#on the carpet I see her shadow as she walks past | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 2 years

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𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫? | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary steve finds out that falling in love can be really, really easy. you find out what it’s like when somebody wants to take care of you [10.5k]

warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, getting together, dustins next-door neighbour!reader, sick fic, hurt/comfort, reader is implied to weigh more than nancy, you’re upset one time and steve goes overboard, small s4 spoilers no major plot details, post s3 pre s4, feat. the lunch club, karaoke, rollerblading, sunbathing

𓆩❤︎𓆪

A vast green jungle, so damp the forest floor bathes your ankles in rainwater runoff. The air is thick with humidity and smells green. Earthy, the sweet scent of petrichor tickles your nose, and-

A shadow distends over the yellow pages of your paperback, dark, eating up the image of the amazon and replacing it with reality – a normal summer's day in Hawkins.

Steve Harrington stands in front of you, his body blocking the sun and its warm glow. The light throws a halo around his head and turns the ends of his brown hair golden.

"Watcha reading?" he asks in lieu of ‘hello’.

"Ever read Journey to the Center of the Earth?" you ask him, leaning towards him invitingly.

You love to mess with him like this, watch his cheeks slowly pink as you bend towards your knees with a demure smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, I did. In middle school," he says, trying his best to play it cool, hands pushing deep into the pockets of his pants.

"Well, it's nothing like that."

The grin he gets when he realises you're messing with him is adorable. He chuckles warmly and pulls a hand through his hair, looking down at the ground and then up at you again with a bashful pinch to his thick eyebrows.

"You're looking for Dustin?" you ask. You haven't seen your young neighbour since this morning. "He ran off earlier with his huge radio thing."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Typical. I paid him fifteen dollars," he says, his frustration clear, "fifteen dollars, Y/N, to fix my Walkman like three weeks ago. Every time I come by he's out. Little shit probably hasn't even looked at it."

You like Steve. He's a great looking guy who's more than nice when he sees you even though you're always pushing his buttons, and his poorly hidden fondness for Dustin is something you find heart-squeezingly attractive. You don't think twice about your next move.

You stand up from your lounger and have to shield your eyes from the sun, tucking your book under your naked arm. "If you want… I have a cassette player I'm not using. I got a Walkman for my birthday." You don't give him an opportunity to say no as you start for the front door.

"Are you sure?" Steve asks. You hold the door open for him, standing at the threshold with a grin.

"Positive. It's collecting dust, at this point."

"I mean, sure, if that's cool. Just until Dustin gets his act together," he says, pushing past you. His hand brushes your hip.

"That's cool," you confirm, walking behind him through your open kitchen and living room. "It's on the left."

Steve pushes into your bedroom. The window's open, breezing around the smell of fresh linens and the hydrangeas in the planter on your sill, shifting the gauzy white curtains.

The suncatcher hanging from the window sprays rainbow kisses over your walls and posters, your laundry basket full of summer dresses and discarded night shirts. The carpet is freshly vacuumed and plush underfoot as you beeline for your desk. Steve hovers by the door before leaning his weight against your bookshelf, eyes taking it in curiously.

"Cyndi Lauper," Steve says, eyes on a big poster of said singer with her iconic orange hair and hat. You raise your eyebrows at him, pleased, and he shrugs. "She's famous."

"You like her?"

"Nah," he says. "But I'll listen to anything. Except Depeche Mode; sharing a player with Robin all summer has sailed that boat."

"Yeah?" you ask, kneeling down in front of your desk to dig through the cabinet underneath. You frown, up to your elbow in bric a brac and forgotten trinkets. "It's in here somewhere."

"Yeah. I mean, maybe not anything. I don't think I have the palate for some of those rock and roll bands. Dustin made me listen to Black Scabbard in the car last week and…"

"Black Sabbath," you correct lightly, pulling out of your cupboard with a relieved huff.

"Right," he says.

You look over your shoulder to find him perusing your bookshelf, his hand running lightly over the shiny glass paper weight you use as a book end. He teases the spine of a hardback book curiously but must feel your gaze, turning to you with a sheepish smile.

"Do you like to read?" you ask.

Steve wrings his hands held at his hip. "Sure, I don't mind it. Bigger fan of movies."

"Right, Family Video must get pretty distracting," you say, walking towards him on light footing to offer the dinged-up cassette player. "She's well loved but she works, I swear."

He takes it from you, fingers brushing the backs of yours. "Thank you."

You shift from one foot to the other — because oh my god there's a boy in my room — before smiling with teeth. You stop. "You're welcome. Want a drink?"

"Uh…"

"I've got pink lemonade."

"Oh, then definitely."

You lead him into the kitchen and install him at the kitchen table with two empty glasses. The carafe of lemonade is beautifully cold from the refrigerator with slices of lemon and strawberry bouncing around the top as you pour it. The condensation wets your fingers.

Steve looks handsome and maybe slightly silly behind your homely oak table, all clean cut and well dressed. You feel bare beside him in your tank top and flowy midi skirt, too much skin.

"Are you hungry? I make a mean BLT," you say, bringing your feet up onto the chair, knees digging into the table.

"I'm good, thanks," he says.

"Are you having a good time of it at FV? They denied my application, but that's 'cos Keith has a vendetta against me for wiping out his score on the Palace's Tempest."

"You're a Tempest girl?"

"Everybody plays Tempest," you say.

Steve gives you a look. "Nerds play Tempest."

"Fine, every nerd plays Tempest," you allow, rolling your eyes. "Lemme guess, you're a Centipede guy. No, worse! You play Pac-Man. I can tell."

His silence is enough to make you giggle in triumph, elated to have sussed him out so quickly.

"How did you know that?" he asks finally.

"You called Black Sabbath 'Black Scabbard'. You're not a nerd."

"I could be."

"But you're not."

You share a steady look over the table. His eyes are bright with mirth, a sleek brown like fresh brewed coffee. You love the shape of them, deepest with the round under eye blanketed in straight black lashes. A red polo stretches across his chest. You find your eyes drawn down the length of his arm to his hand where he's drawing circles around the rim of his glass. He takes it into his hand and you watch his wrist bend, his arm flex as he brings the cup to his lips and a drop of condensation drips onto the table mat.

"I don't look the type?" he asks after a rough swallow. He sounds almost incensed.

"No, of course you don't. King Steve," you croon.

He crosses his arms across his chest and leans back, looking you up and down showfully. "Neither do you."

He's all charming smiles as he raises his chin and shakes his head, lips stretched up in an open-mouthed smile.

"Tempest," he mutters in bemusement.

You burst into laughter, quick to defend yourself when there's a pounding knock at the door. You're still laughing as you stand, calling to Steve as you walk to the door, "Tempest isn't even that nerdy! It's the Dragon's Lair dorks you need to watch out for. Oh, hi baby. What's wrong?"

"You haven't seen Steve, have you? His cars outside," Dustin announces, standing under the porch with his wild curls stuffed under a hat, his pulley cart ditched halfway between your yard and his.

"He's in the kitchen. You want some lemonade? You look frazzled," you offer, brushing your hand over his sunburned shoulder lightly as he scoots right past you.

"Thanks, Y/N." Dustin strides into the kitchen with purpose, glaring at Steve pretty heavily as he takes your seat at the table. "Why are you here?"

"Fucking charming. I came to see you, Henderson, but you're never home. Too busy finding secluded knolls to radio your girlfriend and play karaoke."

"Dick," Dustin says, though he defrosts as you fill a glass for him.

"What do you want?" Steve asks him.

"Why do you assume I want something?"

"Don’t be coy, you're not Madonna. It's tacky."

"Dick," Dustin says again, glaring.

"Dustin, do you want something to eat? You shouldn't go out in the sun all day by yourself, you know? What if you get heat stroke?" you ask.

Steve gives you a strange look like he's puzzled with you. You smile back at him, hand coming down on the back of Dustin's chair easily.

"Steve, I need a ride to Mike's," Dustin says, completely ignoring you.

Steve kicks him under the table. "Manners."

"Can I please have a ride-"

"To her, dipshit. Jeez, what's wrong with you? She asked if you're hungry."

Dustin beams at you innocently, soft cheeks rounding. "No thank you Y/N you're a godsend and I appreciate you very much," he says all in a rush, turning back to Steve, the act entirely dropped. "Now can we go?"

"Christ, fine. I'm gonna get you one of those rewards cards for being a shithead. This incident would be a double stamp, by the way."

"Uh-huh," Dustin says.

The younger teen chugs his glass of lemonade and spins off, calling a thank you over his shoulder. Steve gets up to follow him, your old cassette player held carefully in his hands.

"I'm sorry about him."

"Don't be. I've known him his entire life. He's in a phase," you inform him with a small grin, shrugging as if to say, what you gonna do?

"Long phase. Thank you. For the player and the lemonade."

"You're welcome," you say warmly, walking him to the door.

Dustin's already in the passenger seat, having taken his pulley cart back inside. He makes a hurry up motion from behind his window and Steve mutters expletives to himself, giving you one last smile before he trudges off.

The two boys wave at you through the windshield. You wave back.

When Steve's car has winked from view you take your lemonade and paperback outside again to lie under what's left of the sun. You try your best to fall back into the jungle and conjure its sights and sounds, only you keep finding your thoughts wrapped up around a certain boy's laugh and the face he makes as he does, that startled grin, a fist half raised to his mouth.

"Y/N!" A familiar teen voice accompanied by battering knocking at your front door.

You pull it open, still in your pajamas, hair a mess. His knocking had woken you up. You'd had about ten seconds to check you hadn't drooled too violently in your sleep before he was calling your name, and so you hadn't bothered getting dressed.

You wish you had. Dustin stood at the door with Steve Harrington behind him, a happy smile on both their faces.

You try not to flinch as you throw an arm across your chest subconsciously. "Hi?" you ask. "Is everything okay?"

Dustin's dressed for the beautiful weather in shorts and a shirt with sleeves so short it may as well be a tank top, a hat perched familiarly over his cute curls. Steve is dressed in a tormenting pair of jeans paired with a denim jacket. Double denim. He looks hot, physically and figuratively.

"Do you wanna come skating?" Dustin asks urgently.

You blink at him, pulling the edges of your strappy vest down to cover your navel, plaid bottoms low on your hips – you're a mess.

"Skating? I don't have one."

"A skateboard?" Dustin asks, shrugging. "Bring your rollerblades."

You err at the door, leaning your weight against it as you think. "When?"

"Now!" he says.

"I don't want to hold you up," you say, aimed more towards Steve than Dustin.

Steve smiles, hooking cheeks pink with the heat, and is about to talk when Dustin says, "He made me come ask you, he's fine to wait."

You bite back a smirk at Steve's deer-in-the-headlights expression and nod happily. "Alright. Twenty minutes and I'll be ready. If that's okay?"

"Totally," Steve says.

You close the door most of the way and catch a look over his shoulder, finding his pretty friend Robin in one seat and a gaggle of Dustin's friends in the back.

You hear a sharp thwarping sound as you spin away followed by a "What the fuck, dude?" from Dustin and hope that he hasn't tripped over one of your flower pots. You get ready and spend at least ten minutes worrying after your appearance in the mirror before grabbing the skates and jetting into the kitchen. You gather as many impromptu snacks you can find and shove them into a grocery bag, struggling to lock the door behind you in want of a free hand.

Steve jumps out of the driver's side to open the side door for you. You smile gratefully and dump the snacks and your skates in the footwell before climbing in, an empty seat between you and Dustin’s redheaded friend.

You're saved from the awkwardness of seeing people you've met but don't quite know by their ongoing debate, something about which Bruce Springsteen song is best.

“It’s obviously Dancing in the Dark. I don’t really know why we’re still talking about this,” Robin says from the passenger seat.

“You’re just saying that because it’s his most popular,” the girl next to you says.

“Things are popular for a reason.” Robin shrugs.

“Yeah, Max. Plus, popular or not, it’s his best.”

Max scrunches up her entire face. “Better than I’m on Fire?”

There’s a long pause where each child deliberates. Dustin and Mike dissolve into fierce looks.

“Nobodies talking about Born in the USA,” Steve says into the quiet, eyes on the road but head tilted back.

“Shut up, Steve,” Mike says, looking as exhausted as he usually does when you’ve seen him coming in and out of Dustin’s. Though it's been a while, he hasn't changed. Perpetually done with people's shit.

“Disrespectful,” Steve murmurs. His eyes flash to the rear view, catching you red-handed as you stare at him. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“About Springsteen."

You consider him, his smile, his gaggle of cruel children. “I like Born in the USA,” you say nonchalantly.

“That’s two points,” Steve says triumphantly.

The skatepark is pretty busy because of the good weather. You and Steve end up unpacking your snacks onto a blanket Robin lays out whilst the boys go look for their friend Lucas, who's supposedly already here.

Max doesn't seem pleased with this revelation, sitting down heavily by Steve's picnic basket. Steve offers her a PB&J from the basket and a cold caprisun and she perks up, but not a lot. You want to spend time with Steve, you're not disillusioned into thinking you're anything but a flower under his attention, blooming and wanting, but Max's sad eyes get the better of you.

Too late for introductions, you dive straight in. “What’s in the Walkman?” you ask, nodding at the player sticking out of her jacket pocket, the foam padded headphones around her neck.

“Wild Things Run Fast, Joni Mitchell.” It sounds like a question.

You’ve struck gold immediately. “I love Joni Mitchell! Have you heard her new stuff?”

Max seems alarmed and happy at once, red messy braids swaying as she lifts her chin. “I mean, only what they’ve played on the radio.”

“Her album came out this October, Dog Eat Dog? I have the cassette if you wanna borrow it. It’s amazing.”

“Really?” she asks. She’s peeling the crusts off of her sandwich, one side at a time, dropping them into the small pile of discarded Saran Wrap.

“For sure. You’ve heard Shiny Toys?” Max nods. “It’s all as good as that one. Seriously.”

“Awesome,” she says, taking a huge bite of her sandwhich.

You realise you might’ve come on a little strong and try to backtrack into cool territory again, hand brushing Steve’s ankles as you lean away from the poor girl, smiling sheepishly.

“My mom loves Joni Mitchell,” Robin says.

“Robin," Steve chides lightly.

“What?”

You and Steve share a look that’s so familiar it gives you pins and needles in your hands, something small between the two of you clicking into place. Or at least that’s how you feel.

Max has almost finished her sandwich by the time Mike returns. “Are you ready?” he asks her.

She clambers onto her feet and grabs her skateboard from behind Steve. The two walk away, a distance from Dustin and Lucas, who both seem to have acquired a pair of skates each. Dustin in knee pads and a helmet, Lucas without.

“Why would you say Max listens to mom music?” Steve asks incredulously once they’re out of hearing distance.

Robin shakes her head, similarly incensed. “I didn’t say that.”

“There were so many other things you could’ve said, Robs.” He sounds less mad and more pitying.

"I didn't say that! I said my mom listens to her. She does!"

"Don't take offense. Robin got dropped as a baby," Steve says to you offhandedly.

You know the best course of action here and you take it – in what world would you make an enemy of a boy you might like's best friend who is a girl? Not this one. Plus, Robin seems super nice.

"I'm not offended. My mom loves Joni too," you say cheerily, smiling at Robin, unabashed.

You're slightly disappointed when she looks away towards her lap, until she says, "Projections a bad look on you, Harrington. He has, like, a flat head," she tells you.

Steve starts yammering loudly. "Shut up! My head's perfect, you're being ridiculous. Perfectly round and ordinary, thank you."

"Yeah, I'd definitely say your head's perfectly round," you agree through giggles, reaching for your skates.

You have a funny feeling that a silent conversation is happening as you slide off your shoes and into the skates, lacing up tight, but when you look up Robin's sifting through the accumulated snack pile and Steve's looking the opposite way, towards the kids.

You clear your throat. "Are you guys gonna skate too?"

"Steve is."

"I didn't bring-"

"He's borrowing mine. It's too hot, I can't skate. And I don't have the coordination, anyway."

Steve looks at Robin, at you, Robin again. "I'm not good," he says. You take it for yes.

Steve gets on his skates and straps out of his denim jacket, exposing the distracting lengths of his arms. He's better than he gives himself credit for, steady on his feet. He knows how to stop and start, and you smile to yourself when the two of you skate off towards Dustin and Lucas, following their journey around the skate park, careful to stay clear of the bowls and rails.

"You're good! You said you weren't good!" you say to him.

"I'm not good."

"You're doing great!"

He smiles gratefully, the expression at home over his warm features. He's not really a very smiley guy, you've realised, his lips often pulled up into a grimace or a cruel approximation of a smile, sarcastic. It suits him. You go to say as much, eyes eating up every little detail of him.

"Hey Steve? You should-" and your foot pops over a rock.

You shriek and throw your arm out towards him. Steve catches you with impressive strength and speed as your leg buckles. You've quickly righted yourself and he brings you to a slow but not quite stop. Stopping on skates is easier said than done, especially old skates with the front guards already worn down.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You've taken his hand without thinking, the two of you widening apart and then coming together like the eclipse of a blinking eye.

You pull your hand away apologetically, the warmth of his palm lingering.

"I'm sorry!" you say.

"Don’t be. Last thing I wanna do is have you crack your head open on my watch. I’m glad you didn’t wipe out."

"Thanks to you."

You slow and stop. Steve does the same, the two of you clumsy for different reasons. He watches as you calm your racing heart.

"Shit, I really thought I was gonna fall. You're a lifesaver." You stare straight into his eyes, their sunlight honey brown, smiling with complete genuineness. He's more than pretty. "Thank you."

Steve swallows and his smile is warmer, somehow, impossibly warmer. Maybe it's the beautiful weather, maybe it's the beautiful boy. You suddenly feel very, very hot.

"I think I might need to sit down."

"Oh, shit," he says, reaching for your arm. You're about to correct his touching – you're not dizzy, just a little nauseous. Only, his hand. His fingers clasped around your elbow, his face fiercely protective.

You let him guide you back to the picnic blanket. One hand around your elbow, the other behind your sun-warmed back, and somehow his hand is the hottest spot.

"Are you okay?" Robin asks, shielding her eyes from the sun. The book in her lap slips shut as she straightens.

"She's okay," Steve says. “Too hot. Budge up."

Robin moves over on the blanket and throws the basket open. Steve reaches in for a capri sun and passes it to you. It's lukewarm, though the day is so hot it's a relief to drink it.

"Steve's really good," you tell her after a noisy suck, the orange plastic straw stabbing your lip. You frown down at it.

"I saw you guys whizzing around. Public menaces, both of you," Robin says, though she smiles as she does. You know she's joking. You don't want to think it in case it's not true, but you feel like maybe she wants to be friends.

"We prefer speed demons," Steve says easily, still kneeling at your side.

"They should lock you up."

You snort and almost squirt juice from your nose, spluttering and coughing as you bend at the waist. Steve pats your back less than gently and then more so as you move your hand towards him.

"I'm okay," you cough, embarrassed at how you must look hacking your lungs out.

Steve's hand, again on your back, rubs a stern line. "Chill out, Y/N. You can't die before dinner."

"We're getting McDonald's," Robin supplies.

"Don't tell the kids," he says, smirking.

He's still rubbing your back. You suspect you might agree to anything while he's this close.

"You sound like such a dad when you say shit like that."

Steve scowls at Robin's words and pulls his hands away, crossing them over his chest. "Don't say that. Babysitter is more than enough, don't you think? Y/N?"

"An older brother?" you suggest to Robin's extreme delight.

She laughs. Steve scrubs at his face with both hands until his eyes are red.

Robin's sick and Steve's going crazy by himself, manning the desk at FV with almost no energy and even less enthusiasm. A week since he'd held your hand and he can't seem to stop thinking about it.

He catches himself staring at his own empty palm and clenches his fist, bringing his eyes back to the door in case someone walks in and he has to pull off the headphones of your borrowed cassette player.

Steve had discovered a forgotten cassette inside, listening to it out of curiosity the night you'd given him the player and then every night since then. He felt guilty about keeping it without saying anything but he was only borrowing it, he reasoned. He'd give it back when Dustin fixed his skipping Walkman.

The tape was Van Halen II. And Steve's not stupid, he knows who Van Halen are, but he's never sat and listened through any of their full albums. Now he can't stop, constantly rewinding back to the same song, over and over.

He does so now, fingers clumsy and too big over small buttons until the first line kicks in, powerful and high energy like a burst of fresh air.

Have you seen her?

So fine and pretty.

He grins as it plays, thinking of you instantly. Your smile and your legs, the wind whipping at your skirt and exposing stretches of skin he can't stop remembering. You on your rollerblades, the second time after an emergency PB&J, skating in front of him without looking behind you.

"Don't let me crash into someone, okay?" you'd asked, swaying from one side to the other as you shifted your weight.

"It'll be too late to stop you if I see someone! Turn around!" he'd demanded, though his fondness had peeked through.

You'd thrown your hands out. "You'll have to steer me!"

And so he'd grabbed your hands and you'd laughed like a fool as you skated together, squealing through close calls and bumpy ground.

He thinks of your hands in his, their weight and size, the magnetic pulse he'd felt between them, how happy you'd seemed to be with him.

He was harbouring a crush on you. Too old to deny what it feels like to want a pretty girl, Steve wonders if this is entirely a good idea – letting himself like you when the possibility of rejection feels high. You are, as Dustin had promised him, out of Steve's league. "Don't try your luck, dude."

Steve thought for a second that his thinking about you had summoned your image, your easy walk and the elegant way about your hands and how you held them, in a blue dress with matching strappy mary-jane's, white socks with the ruffle tops. He blinks. No way he could think up anything as pretty.

You push open the door and grin from across the room, a large tupperware of some type in your hands. His eyes move up from your fingers where they clutch plastic, your wrist, your arms. The puff sleeves of your dress are short and cuffed, similar to the matching ruched neckline that shows enough to make him swallow. A necklace lays in the valley of your chest, a silver chain with a blue flower at the end, small but thick. Five round petals, a cutout missing that shows a circle of your chest beneath.

"Steve," you say, like you'd been in mid conversation. "Please tell me you have a sweet tooth."

He pulls the headphones from his head and leaves them around his neck, fixing his hair as casually as he can when he says, "Sure, I like candy."

You set your container down on the counter and crack it open, the rich, buttery smells of its contents quickly filling the room.

"I made penuche for Dustin's mom's birthday, but I made so-" you drag the word out, lips a gloss-sticky 'o', "much of it. I can't eat it all. And she said I wasn't allowed to give it to Dustin 'cos he keeps using the f-word."

His laugh is startled but genuine. "Not the f-word."

The fudge is a light brown, almost pink in the neon tinted lighting. It smells divine, and he's saved from an internal debate about what's cool when you push the tub towards him. "Do you like fudge?" you ask him.

He takes one and you take one, and he tries not to look at you as you eat, or when you scratch gloss and a crumb from the corner of your mouth.

"You’re a modern Martha Stewart," Steve says happily.

"Only on special occasions. Where's Robin?" you ask, elbows braced on the counter and leaning in.

"Sick. Apparently."

"Apparently," you repeat, grinning. "What, she didn't look sick?"

"She talked to me on the phone. She sounded sick," he concedes. "Good things it's Thursday."

You look around the completely empty store. "This is what it usually looks like on a Thursday?"

"It's Hawkins. Half the people here get their VHS from the library, the others drive out to Blockbuster. We get about as much foot traffic as an ice cream stand in September."

"It's 'cos you take too long to get the new ones,'' you say. "No offense."

"The tone of someone personally victimised by a Family Video wait list."

"You got me. I've been trying to get the Breakfast Club for two months!" you complain, scratching your chest lazily.

Steve crosses his arms over his chest until his hands are hidden, rolling his eyes. "Oh, so this is bribery penuche."

You blink at him and then your lips part in horror, pretty eyes widening. "No!"

"It totally is. You're trying to butter me up," he says, suave tone disrupted by the need to giggle at his own pun. "Y/N, how could you? Here I thought we were starting to be friends and you're using me for my video store?"

His mock horror puts you eat ease when you realise he's joking. "I really wanna see that movie," you say dejectedly. You reach for another piece of fudge and bite it in half, your chewing morose. "It feels like everybody saw it at the movies but me."

"Of course they did. Why didn't you?"

You glare at him. "I was busy!"

"For the month it was in theatres?"

"Yes!" you defend yourself from his teasing. "I have things to do!"

"Like what?"

"Like school!"

"Everybody has school."

"You're picking on me after I brought you candy. This is so cruel." You don't sound like you've suffered any cruelty. Steve might say you're really enjoying yourself.

"Sorry, sweetheart."

You glare at his insincere pet name. "Whatever. Oh, hey, how's she treating you?" you ask, eyes on the cassette player. "Steve, you have my Van Halen tape! Thank god, I thought I lost it."

"Right. Sorry, I meant to give it back," he lies.

You shrug your shoulders. "Keep it however long you want to. It's good, right? Which one's your favourite?"

He pulls the headphones out and rewinds back before setting the player in front of you. You raise your eyebrows at him but click play, and the audio starts abruptly, loud and mid quality.

Yes, it's love in the third degree.

You grin, head bobbing, eyes flitting to his with approval written all over your face. You don't seem to hesitate before you sing along under your breath, high pitched but quiet.

"Ooh, baby baby. Won't-cha turn your head my way?"

He feels a little enchanted by you, that same magnetism he'd felt between his hands, can't believe how pretty you are and how sweetly you move. You laugh at yourself as you sing the next line, an intense, almost theatrical look upon your face. Like you're swooning.

"Ooh, baby baby. Ah come on! Take a chance, you're old enough to-" You flare your eyes at him and nod, mouth open encouragingly.

He won't join in, no matter how electric he finds you. You roll your eyes and your shoulders roll in a half-dance as you hum along to the chorus.

Dance the night away.

"You're no fun, Steve," you complain, giggling.

"You're enough for the two of us."

You peer over the counter, still moving with the music as you ask, "What were you doing? Before I came in?"

"Looking through the computer at what's late being returned. Riveting, extremely hard work."

"Do you get, like, secret intel on what new movies are coming in?"

"Sure we do. Wanna see?" he asks.

You creep around the counter and stand by his side. He scrolls through the system and translates acronyms for you. "This is the coming in," he says, drawing a line down a list of movie names. "These are what's being moved back to the headquarters."

"Headquarters," you repeat, leaning in to see the screen more clearly. You browse the new titles idly, slipping closer and closer to the computer.

"You'll burn your retinas."

"Invaders from Mars, Youngblood, Black Moon Rising," you list thoughtfully. You turn on your heel. "I don't know any of those. You got a chic-flicks section?"

You're really close. Steve looks at you, this close, this pretty, his hands itching to touch you. He leans in and your arms fall to your sides, the space between you growing ever smaller.

"We do," he says slowly, eye to eye, almost daring you to look at his mouth instead. He wants you to. He wants to look at yours.

You're steadfast, not impassive but certainly unreadable as you say, "Show me?"

Steve reaches for the mouse behind you like he was always intending to, hiding any smugness he feels when you exhale noticeably. You turn back around, his arm brushing over yours as he sorts through the tag system to show you "ROM-COM INCO".

"These are all the ones we have coming in. You know any of those?"

"Hannah and Her Sisters. I saw that one."

"Finally had some free time?" he asks wryly.

"Shut up, Steve."

"You know… I can keep the Breakfast Club for you. Next time it comes in."

The smile you give him is blinding. "Thanks, Steve."

"Yeah, no problem." He hopes the sudden increase in temperature is mutual.

Your backyard is a field of flowers. Maybe dramatic, but Steve's never seen so many, a heavy green spotted in chartreuse, vermillion, bright oranges and pink-white. You lay on a towel in the grass surrounded by them, the sun lighting you up, your skin glowing and perfect.

You're in black, spandex type shorts and a bikini top. Steve feels like a perv for looking, so he clears his throat. You don't budge.

He creeps closer. You're in headphones listening to your Walkman. He can hear the music from where he stands at your backdoor, so it must be loud. He stands over you and hopes his shadow will wake you up. When it still doesn't he gets concerned, kneeling down carefully with his knees digging into your towel.

"Y/N. Hey," he says.

Still nothing.

He pulls your headphones off gently, looking over your face in worry. You must be sleeping.

"Y/N, you shouldn't sleep out here. You'll get sun stroke," he says. He strokes your arm though he shouldn't. He can't help himself, his fingers pressing into the crook of your elbow.

You blink awake and then slam your eyes closed. Steve adjusts himself to block the sun from your face and you manage to pry your eyes open, confused.

"Hello."

"Hey," he says. He can't help the fondness that plays over his smile.

"Shit." Your eyes go wide and you cover your chest with your arm. "I'm naked."

"You're not naked," he says.

"I'm naked. Stop looking at me."

Steve turns away obligingly.

"Stop laughing at me, Harrington."

"Is there anything I'm allowed to do?" he asks, though he does stop laughing.

"I'm so embarrassed. I was sunbathing and I must've fallen asleep."

Steve lets his eyes stray to your naked thigh. He stares at your skin, follows a stretch mark upwards and then swiftly peels his gaze away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a total perv. I can go wait in my car."

"You're not a perv. I'm being a priss. Sorry. I know I'm not, like, a model and I wasn't expecting to have this much skin on show. I don't look like Nancy Wheeler."

You sound more nervous than Steve has ever heard you. Worse, you sound dejected, though you've tried for nonchalance. Steve stares at you until you raise your chin, your fingers pinching meanly at your thighs.

"You're messing with me," he says.

"What?" you ask, incredulous. "I'm not messing with you."

"You gotta know you're beautiful. That's, like, a stone cold fact. A hard truth. You're beautiful. Who cares if you don't look like Nance?"

You sigh, though it's not very believable when you're smiling so much. "She's really pretty."

"So are you."

"You know what I mean, Steve. She's… small."

"She's a small woman," he agrees. "That doesn't make her prettier than you."

"You're sure?" you ask quietly.

Steve means it a hundred percent when he says, "I'm sure."

The two of you sit there for a few seconds. He can hear your breathing and he's wondering if you can hear his.

"What are you doing here?" you ask.

Your hand is still held across your stomach but you're thankfully looking more relaxed. Steve meant what he said, you're beautiful, he couldn't care less that you're taller or that you weigh more than his ex. You're fucking pretty, and seeing you all laid out and sun kissed has made him kind of crazy.

"Steve?" you ask.

"Oh. I brought you The Breakfast Club. Just got it back in this morning," he rushes to say, grabbing the VHS tape from where he'd left it on the ground. The Family Video spine is glaringly ugly compared to you and your flowers.

"Woah, thank you!"

"You're welcome. It's under my name though, so don't keep it late. Can't disprespect the FV name. I'm going for employee of the month."

You giggle. "You are? Are you the top contender?"

"Nope."

You laugh some more, the sound delicate and sweet as spun sugar, in Steve's humble opinion.

"Not that my fellow employees try any harder, but Keith just picks himself every month for the free credits."

You rub your fingers across the front of the box. "I won't be late. I mean, I'll watch it today, I've been so excited to see it."

Steve stands up. "Sorry to disturb your idyllic sunbathing."

"Idyllic," you murmur, smiling. "You're good, Steve. Thank you for the movie."

"You're welcome. I'll see you later?" he asks, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, slowly backing away.

"No," you say. He raises his eyebrows and you look sheepish but not shy when you continue, "Do you wanna stay? Watch the movie with me? I have stovetop popcorn and soda and everything."

"What about the great weather? You don't wanna waste it."

You force your hands between your thighs and hunch forward slightly. "I do wanna waste it. I mean, I've had enough for today, don't you think? I'm a half hour from heat stroke."

"You're looking pretty warm," he says. Anything to take you up on your offer without sounding too interested.

You're trying not to give Steve the side eye. Trying, but he's very attractive and very close, and he keeps making funny jokes. It's annoying how hot he is.

Steve has slouched back and his jeans have slowly edged down, exposing the flesh of his hip. Not that you've noticed, or anything.

You cram a big handful of popcorn into your mouth and flick your eyes back to the screen. You'd really wanted to see this movie but Steve keeps capturing your attention, again and again, over and over. You can't believe you'd asked him to stay and he had, can't believe he brought the VHS for you in the first place.

That's a dedicated employee right there.

You shuffle closer to him under the guise of sharing your popcorn. Your shoulders touch.

"Thanks," he says. His thigh hits your thigh as he takes a handful.

"Steve," you say softly.

"What?"

"I don't feel well. I think the sun killed me."

He throws his arm around the back of the couch and twists, careful not to upend the popcorn bowl as he looks over you searchingly. You've seen Steve play caretaker before, but being under his watch is different. He's almost a different person as he checks you over.

"You feel sick?" he asks. He holds his hand out between you, his knuckles at your eye level. "Can I?"

You tilt your head back and close your eyes. Steve presses the back of his hand to your forehead and pets down softly, feeling for your temperature.

"You're still really warm. Let's get you cooled down."

Steve springs up and knocks the bowl. You blink, slightly disoriented as he disappears into the kitchen, picking up spilled popcorn off of the couch and eating it with slow chews. Now you think of it, your arms hurt, too.

Steve returns and sits on the edge of the sofa, a bag of peas in his hand. "I raided your freezer. Lean your head back."

"I'm fine," you say, but tilt your head back anyways, gasping when the cold hits you.

"You might actually get heatstroke. Do you know how dangerous heat stroke is? You need to cool down. Where's the A/C?"

"It's on."

Steve feels along your cheek gingerly. "I can't believe you fell asleep outside. What's that about?" He pauses. "Are you sleeping okay?"

"I'm sleeping fine."

"Are you sure?"

His wrist turns and you feel the pad of his fingers rather than the back, the palm of his hand as he cups your face.

You peek through your lashes at him. His eyebrows are pinched and his bottom lip juts out in a concerned pout.

"You can tell me."

The way he says it – well, you imagine you could tell him anything. He sounds warm and worried. This close you can smell his cologne, something heavy with sage, a little bit of lilac hidden under unmistakable bergamot. It's all so comforting and the sun has loosened your tongue.

"Maybe not so much. It's… it's hot. You know? And…"

"What?" he murmurs. Your heart skips as his thumb rubs over your cheek.

You close your eyes like your confession might take form. "I'm kind of lonely, lately," it sounds like a question, "and it's- it keeps me up sometimes. I don't know, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud."

"It doesn't sound stupid."

"No?"

"No, I get it." He pulls away but doesn't move too far, his hand still holding the freezing peas to your forehead, the other brushing against your arm as he drops it in his lap. "These days Dustin doesn't leave me alone. I don't want him to, either. The same with Robs."

You let your head loll to the side. Steve doesn't look shy or scared to tell you, talking almost matter of fact. "But my parents were never home when I was in high school. They still aren't. I felt it more back then."

"Yeah. I don't know. I never see anybody. Besides Dustin," you say. "We have him in common."

"You see me."

"When I'm annoying you at work."

"You don't annoy me." He's stern though he abruptly turns into a conspirator whispering secrets. "Robin's fuse gets shorter with me everyday."

"How come?" you ask, co-conspirator.

"I can't stop watching the door."

You lift your head. Steve takes back his bag of peas and feels along your forehead, now cold enough to ache.

"Here, hold these to your chest. I'd do it for you, but…"

You take the peas and hide a terrible smile, heart racing between your ears. Your nausea has flipped completely into butterflies and they're rabid, knocking at your abdomen insistently.

You're trying to think of a way to make him say nice things again when there's a knock at the door.

"Dustin," you both say.

"Jinx, buy me a soda," Steve says.

You glare at him and he laughs all the way to the door.

"Why are you always here? Where's Y/N?"

"She's got heat stroke."

"I don't!" you call hoarsely.

"You sound like you do," Dustin says. "Can one of you give me a ride?"

"She has heat stroke."

You climb onto the back of the sofa to look down the hallway. Dustin stands at the front door with a huge piece of engineering in his arms that you don't understand, wires and ciricuits and things.

"Remeber when you used to bike everywhere? What happened to that?" Steve asks, sounding majorly pissed. You can't work out why he's so frustrated but it makes you laugh again.

The two boys turn to you with twin looks of confusion.

"I can't bike there, genius. This won't fit in the basket."

You laugh again, twice as loud.

"What's wrong with her?" Dustin asks, shaking his head.

"What don't you understand about heat stroke?

"Potential heat stroke," you interject.

"She fell asleep in the sun. I don't know how long she was out there her brain might be totally jellified, dude."

"You should take her to the hospital."

You clamber onto aching limbs and walk until your behind Steve, reaching for his elbow automatically. "I'm fine, babe. What's your doohickey?"

Dustin smirks and pulls the weight closer to his chest. "Prototype."

"For what?"

"Top secret."

You giggle some more, wobbling with the force of it. Steve sighs and wraps his arm around your back, his hand under your arm to grip you at the ribs.

Dustin gets wide eyes like a looney tunes character. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," Steve hisses. "Look, let me set Y/N up with the works and I'll drive you where you want to go, you brat."

Dustin drops his suspicion, having got what he wants. "I'll wait in the car. Feel better!"

"That's three stamps on the shithead card, shithead!" Steve calls after him. The two of you watch his retreating figure and then Steve is manhandling you (not too roughly) down the hallway and back onto the sofa.

"I'm not dying, Steve."

Steve puts your popcorn bowl in your lap and the frozen peas back on your chest. He fills your glass either the warming carafe on the coffee table and then bends down to talk to you, entirely too intense.

"Are you good?" he asks.

"Perfect. I don't even feel hot anymore."

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, okay. Listen, I'm gonna go drop Dustin off, and then I'm gonna call you to make sure you're not dead."

"You don't have to do that, Steve," you say, moving down into the couch, a cushion falling over as you do. He straightens it out, cups your face in his hand so fast you think you've imagined it and then squints at you.

"Don't die of heat stroke."

He starts to walk away and you're startled. Unfairly, you don't want him to go, and you call, "Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"What about The Breakfast Club?"

He grins at you, a lazy, King Steve kind of smile. "I was always gonna leave that here. So you can come 'annoy' me at work when you return it." He pulls a hand through his hair and gives you a once over and then spins on his heel. "Make sure you answer when I call!"

You lose sight of him as he leaves, the couch backing too tall. He shuts the door kindly and you can just about hear the crunch of gravel as his car pulls away.

"He was definitely flirting with me," you say to yourself, pouring a sweet handful of popcorn into your mouth. You're smiling so wide it's hard to chew.

Dustin bursts into Family Video with his small entourage, Mike and Lucas, and an urgent look on his face. Steve quickly stops his facade of being busy when he clocks them.

"What? Need to borrow ten dollars?" he asks, rolling his eyes.

"Actually, it's about Y/N," Dustin says.

Steve stretches across the desk on his elbows.

"What about her?" he asks, suspecting a waste of time.

"She was crying her eyes out in her backyard last night."

Steve blinks, feeling a pit open up in his chest. "What? Why?"

"Well…" Dustin says. "I didn't ask."

Steve pictures your pretty face crinkled with tears, sitting on the paving stones outside your house. He wonders what would make you cry, sob, whatever it was. You'd confessed to being lonely though he sort of hopes that the feeling has ebbed now that he's calling you every day. At first, under the guise of checking up on you, but, I don't think I'm at risk of heat stroke anymore Steve. It's been a week and a half.

Better safe than sorry.

"Nancy said she saw her outside outside Bradley's Big Buy last night looking miserable," Mike adds, in one of his worst outfits, a mismatch of colours and long socks, a visor that Steve once tried to bribe Dustin to destroy on a hot day with his magnifying glass. The small burned spot perseveres at the caps edge.

Steve feels weirdly proud at their concern and better, their detective skills. The three of them look like they could solve crimes, a mystery gang. Lucas is the only one dressed well in Steve's opinion, though that might be because he's in similar fashion, a nice polo and blue jeans.

"You don't know what's wrong with her?" Lucas asks.

His pride wanes. "Oh, you guys are here for gossip?" he asks scathingly.

"No!"

"You're her boyfriend, right?"

"Not-" Steve swallows, "exactly."

Robin, who had been listening from her stool a few feet back, strides over and falls into place by his side, braced by her elbows.

"If Steve were her boyfriend, we'd know why she was crying," she says, earning a round of boyish chuckles.

Steve nods and then understands her meaning, feeling stupid for assuming Robin would say something that wasn't mean while at work. "Fuck off, I'm a good boyfriend."

Four sets of eyebrows raise.

"I am! I'm romantic."

"You smashed our trellis and dislodged a drain pipe," Mike says.

Steve pins the dark haired boy with a smarted look.

"Sorry, is that not romantic? Sneaking out to see a girl?"

"Sneaking in to a young woman's bedroom," Robin says dryly.

"Pervert style," Dustin agrees sagely.

"Jesus Christ." Steve turns away from his band of adopted heathens and takes the phone into his hand. "I'm gonna call her."

"And what? Tell her we were spying?" Dustin says.

Steve holds the cold plastic to his neck. "Were you?"

"Girls lie about their feelings, anyway. You're never gonna get a straight answer," Lucas says morosely. "Trust me."

He slams the phone down. "What am I supposed to do?"

They stand in a heavy silence. Steve can feel a headache clipping his heels, approaching fast, stress and a sharp worry for you. He really doesn't see why he can't call you and check in.

"Something nice?" Robin suggests, picking at her nails.

"Like what?" he asks. Though, as soon as he says it, he already has the beginnings of an idea. Whether its a good one or not is anyones guess.

Somebody knocks the door and all you can think is, oh god why me?

You're in a bad approximation of pajamas - your comfiest and yet your sloppiest, old and worn and unattractive. Fresh out of a stress-cry shower, you've only just managed to catch your breath.

It's like you told Steve, everything lately feels so lonely. You'd gone grocery shopping by yourself and had known without a doubt that you were moving unseen through the world. Something about deciding between TV dinners. Nobody knew where you were, what you were doing, or where you were going. The only people seeing you were the storegoers of Bradley's Big Buy and your disgruntled cashier. You doubt you'd made a good impression.

It was maybe a silly thing to feel overwhelmed by, but you felt it anyways. Sick with loneliness and then panic. A thousand what ifs had filled your head; you couldn't stop thinking, what if it's like this forever?

What if I feel this lonely forever?

You'd finished grocery shopping with a peculiar numbness weighing you down and then you'd gone home to cry in the garden, comforted and horrified by your flowers. They were pretty and you'd planted them and it didn't matter, you were still alone. A ladybug had crawled over the nearest planter and you'd watched it until you calmed down, knees crossed and elbows digging into your thighs, pins and needles in your hands.

Another insistent knock. You consider ignoring it and curling up into a ball. Something hooks you out of it. What if it's Steve?

If it's Steve, you're gonna feel very embarrassed about your appearance. You check your reflection in the sheen of a photo frame and sigh, rubbing your face with one hand as you open the door.

Steve stands a few feet away, leaning against the side of his car with a pair of shades slipping down his nose. He takes them off.

You're so happy to see him you forget your rumpled outfit.

"Hi," you say, half-shouting to cover the distance.

"Hey beautiful!" Steve shouts, properly, loud and unabashed.

The door digs into your tummy. You don't know what to say. His compliment flusters you from the get go.

"Hi," you say again, laughing under your breath.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"Somebody told me you weren't feeling well!"

You frown, thoughts racing, and suddenly summon the image of your nosey young neighbour. You take a step back instinctively and Steve must see it because his face goes stony.

"I'm sorry, I know you probably didn't want me to know. But- when I found out you were upset, I couldn't ignore that. You'll have to forgive me."

You try pushing the smile off your face with your hand and stand there scratching your top lip. "No. No, it's okay."

He raises his eyebrows and takes a few big steps towards your house. You step out onto the porch and he closes the space between you, holding his hands out. You take them and he envelopes you, warm hands pulling you along and up the path.

He walks backwards. "Don't let me crash into someone, okay?"

A memory. The two of you hand in hand, ground flashing under your skates.

"Okay," you say weakly.

He squeezes your hands and drops them, a foot from the car. "Stay," and he doesn't finish, turning away from you. He opens the passenger door, the door behind and then the trunk.

The smell is beautiful. A floral wave.

The sight is something else. A carpet of bunches, bell-shaped freesias and carnations, roses in darkest red, chrysanthemums, dahlias, tiny orchids and irises; gorgeous purple irises with white centred petals buffeted by frilly sweetpeas.

"They didn't want to give me the buckets but I told them I had a really pretty girl waiting for me, and if they suffocated in the heat then I was gonna drive right back and complain loudly." He stands by your side and nudges you. "Break out in tears."

"That's a lot of flowers," you mumble.

"Half the store. The other half's on standby."

"Standby?"

"I worried you might not have the space."

"I won't."

Your gaze flits over soft petals and light green stems, thorns and leaves and greenery, baby breath tucked in by plastic wrapping.

"Why did you do this?"

"You…" he laughs at himself. "Okay, so. The day you had heat stroke-"

"I didn't have heat stroke. I had heat exhaustion."

"Semantics. You were lying in the backyard. Just… sleeping. I was waiting for you to look up and see me, and I couldn't- I still can't get the image out of my head. You looked unreal."

You feel hot all over as he searches for words. He's smiling wide as he talks, like he can't believe how happy he is. It's infectious.

He shakes his head. "Anyway, I know you like flowers. Obviously. So."

"So you got me a florists?"

"Half."

You hug your torso. The idea that somebody would do this for you, that Steve would do this for you, is so alien you can't comprehend it.

"They're for me?" you whisper.

"For you. All of them."

You look at him, the flowers, him again, and start to laugh. You throw your hands up to your cheeks and giggle like a little kid.

"Why are you laughing?" he asks, an undeniable affection in his curiosity.

"Why would you do this for me?" you ask in a similar tone.

He purses his lips and shrugs. "You could've called me. I want you to know that."

You scrub your hot cheeks and shift from foot to foot. "I was being silly."

"It's not silly. It's not stupid. And even if it was, I still want you to call me. These are 'call me' flowers. Call me first."

You wrap your hand around the top of the door and lean in for a look at the sea of flowers. Pollen sticks sweet in your nose.

"Do you like them?"

The smallest hint of insecurity. You can't stop laughing, joy warping every word. "Yeah, I love them," you say over your shoulder, feeling as though you've become nothing but a vestibule of breathless wonder.

"I didn't know which one was your favourite."

All of them, you think. Not sure you could pick one, your eyes bump from bouquet to bouquet.

You try to blink them away but tears form quickly, lashes heavy with them as you stand up straight and wipe under your eyes with the back of your index finger.

"Thank you, Steve."

"You're welcome." Steve comes up behind you and takes your shoulder into his hand, thumb rubbing roughly over your shirt. "C'mon, don't cry. I got you all those flowers because I don't want you to cry, not to make it worse."

"They're really pretty," you say, strained, pushing the bottoms of your palms into your eyes to stop from sobbing. That would be dramatic, you argue with yourself, so dramatic, but this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you.

"Shit," he mutters.

You tense up as his hand moves across your back to grip your other shoulder and he hugs you to his chest, left hand stroking the length of your upper arm, encouraging your hands from your face.

"You're okay, baby," he says.

You sniffle as his right hand climbs your shoulder to cup your neck. He pulls your face to his mouth and presses a kiss into your temple, warm and tingling, firecrackers under the skin. You turn your face to look at him and he pulls back, his chin jutting down.

The shape of his lips lingers on your forehead, a burn. White hot.

Steve wipes the tear tracks from your face with the side of his hand.

"I know what'll cheer you up," he says.

You miss his touch as soon as he's gone. He leans over the passenger seat, the chair and its footwell both bursting with flowers, and turns on the radio. You watch him click to the cassette player. He turns the volume up high and then pulls out.

Slowly, the song builds into a zinging guitar.

"Oh my god."

"Have you seen her? So fine and so pretty," Steve sings with no hesitation. You're startled by his confidence.

"Fooled me with her style and ease," he continues, holding out his hand.

You take it, listening to him fight his way to the right pitch, his voice cracking.

"And I feel her from across the room-" He takes your second hand, gaze electric. "Yes, it's love in the third degree."

He tugs at your hand, nodding until you join in.

"Ooh, baby, baby," you sing weakly, searching for footing.

"Won't-cha turn your head my way?" he begs.

"Ooh, baby, baby," you both sing, Steve with more passion, pulling your arm one way and another in an awkward dance.

"Come on, take a chance, you're old enough to," and here's where you both go weak and high and enthused all at once, glad the stereo's up so high you can't really hear it when you both shout, "dance the night away!"

It's not quite night yet. You've a lot of dancing to do if you're gonna listen to Van Halen's instructions, the sun a half-disk of gold on the horizon, the sky raspberry pink bleeding up into darkening indigo.

Steve grins at your growing enthusiasm and twirls you around. You only allow him this, too afraid to step on his toes as you come to a stop.

He hums along and you clutch his hand. You covet the other where it's held to his chest, pushing your fingers through his. They fit together perfectly.

"Am I ever gonna get that tape back?" you ask.

"No," he says, laughing loudly. "No way. I love this song."

"I love this song too. That's why I bought the album."

"You said however long I wanted!"

"I didn't think you'd stick around this long," you confess.

"I did," he says. He leans down, stops. "Can I kiss you?"

You nod and beat him to it, hand at his collar as you step on your toes and press your mouth to his. You're both smiling, your eyes closed tight and your lips tight together until he pulls back, pulling his hand from your brushing grip to stroke the side of your face, rough in his rush.

When you come back together it's slower, your lips parted mid-giggle as he moves in. You sigh, a high-pitched and embarrassing sound from the back of your throat that's quickly swallowed by his ardency.

"Stop laughing at me," he admonishes playfully.

"I'm not! I'm not, I'm really happy," you defend yourself, setting back on your heels.

You've forgotten all about your pajamas and the icky feeling in your chest. With Steve's palms to your cheeks like this – like you're something worth being cradled in careful hands – you can't feel anything but happy.

"I don't have enough vases for your flowers," you apologise as he chases you down, dropping kisses over the corner of your mouth and the apple of your cheek.

"Good thing I begged for all those buckets," he says, brown eyes squinting with the force of his cherubic smile. His pert nose flares with a silent laugh.

"Good thing," you agree.

He holds you by the shoulders. "Good thing," he says again.

You descend into another round of laughter that leaves you panting for air, your head dropping into his chest. "A really good thing."

"I didn't go overboard, did I?" he asks, petting the nape of your neck.

"You did."

"Sorry, I-"

You wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him as hard as you can. He groans lightly as he encircles your shoulders, the tip of his nose a butterfly's wing against your forehead, impossibly light and skipping, back and forth and back again.

"I'm gonna make you flower shortbread," you say eventually, soaking in his warmth, his closeness.

"Yeah?"

"I swear. And more penuche. What's your favourite? I'll make you whatever you want. What do you have a sweet tooth for?"

"Could I get another kiss?" he asks quietly.

You tilt your head back and wait. Steve isn't quite smiling though his eyes boast an emotion you're afraid to name, unbearably fond.

"Are you gonna kiss me again?" you ask into the gap.

"In a sec, just… let me look at you," he says, hand cupping your cheek.

You blink back a stinging wave of tears and smile, tracing over his features greedily.

"You're beautiful," he says.

It’s funny. You were thinking the same thing about him.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thanks for reading!

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things

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wileys-russo · 3 months

Text

in the shadows II a.putellas x sister!reader

based around this request here - haven't decided if i like or hate this yet? but here we go! in the shadows II a.putellas x sister!reader

"mija! can you get the door please?" you heard your mami yell out from the kitchen as the knocking first sounded. "why? they have keys." you called back, quite invested in the latest episode of your favourite drama.

"just get it por favor!" you rolled your eyes and flicked the tv off, hauling yourself off the sofa you'd been lazing out on with a grunt and a stretch.

"vale! i'm coming jesus christ." you groaned as the knocking continued, pulling the door open with a deep seeded scowl of annoyance.

"i hope the wind changes and you are stuck like this, permanently ugly." alba teased, pinching your cheek and pushing past you making a beeline for the kitchen.

"alba!" your eldest sister huffed, being left with all of their luggage as you rolled your eyes. "gracias pequeña." alexia sighed as you helped her bring everything inside, kissing your head and pulling you into a hug. "hola." you mumbled into her shoulder as she echoed back the greeting.

"alexia!" you groaned as you tried to pull away only for her to hold on tighter. "no i never get to see you anymore, i am making up for lost time." your sister stated firmly as she started to walk toward the kitchen causing you to stumble as you were still held captive in her arms.

"you are so needy, i saw you like two weeks ago!" you struggled in her grip, truly no match for her strength. "you once used to love and appreciate me, worshipping the ground I walked on and following me everywhere always wanting me around, i remember those days." alexia sighed dramatically, gently smacking your cheek with her hand.

"get off!" you huffed, eventually pushing her away only to be pulled backwards into yet another hug. "are we sure she is not adopted mami?" alba asked, wrapping your arms around you as if you were wearing a straight jacket and holding them firmly behind your back as you wriggled to break free.

"sí she hates affection, like an alien." alexia joined in with a smug grin as you tried to kick and hit your sisters shins. "how do you have a girlfriend? so miserable and angry all the time, maybe we should give her a medal for putting up with you." alba teased, kissing your cheek as you huffed and struggled to break out of her grip, a head shorter than her.

"she still cannot get free, so cute." alexia joined in, cooing and pinching your cheek as your teeth snapped at her. "oh the biting phase is back, watch out." alba grinned as your legs lashed out wildly trying to connect with either one of them.

"i'm only like this around the two of you because you never leave me alone!" you grunted, bucking and kicking hopelessly much to the amusement of your older sisters who had always found pleasure in teasing and picking on you.

thats not to say they would ever allow anyone else to push you around though, that role firmly occupied only by them and they'd been fiercely protective of you your entire life in every other aspect.

"vamos, let your sister be." eli waved to the two of them with a disapproving look. you were let go and immediately launched at whoever was closest which in this case was alba, chasing her into the living room.

"do not break anything!" eli yelled out as a war cry was heard and something crashed to the ground, thumps and grunts echoing as the two of you rolled around wrestling like children on the living room carpet.

now a few days before christmas you were all due to spend the holidays together, cramming back into your family home which always lead to some sort of squabble between the three of you when you were forced to live on top of one another for the week.

"go make sure they do not kill each other please." your mami sighed a few moments later when you and alba were yet to return, alexia pushing herself up and setting off to find wherever the two of you had dissapeared to.

your relationship with both of your older sisters despite the teasing and the age gap was always incredibly close, and had only seemed to get better now none of you lived together anymore, alexia busy with her football career, alba with her job and you with law school.

well, you used to be.

"-no you need to tell her. we cannot keep this up forever!" alexia paused by alba's bedroom door which was slightly ajar, frowning at the hushed voices coming from inside.

"not forever! just not over the holidays, you know mami is already stressed with everyone coming over and she always sends herself sick and crazy preparing and cooking and cleaning. its not the right time alba!" you whispered back with a firm shake of your head.

"when will be the right time? you have made excuses for weeks now and you are making me lie because you're living with me instead of at school. someone will find out and then i get in trouble for not telling anyone you dropped out!" alba warned sternly as alexia's eyes widened and you both jumped as the door flew open.

"you dropped out of law school?" you withered under the piercingly sharp glare of your eldest sister as alba hurried to close the door again.

"ale-" you started but fell silent at yet another angry look flung your way. "when? do not lie to me." your sister warned firmly as alba sat back on the bed with you.

"five months ago." you answered honestly, even alba's eyes now bugging out of her head and she smacked your arm. "joder! you told me three weeks ago. where the hell were you living?" she scolded, both their gazes burning into you.

"with mariana." you again answered honestly. "oh when i get my hands on that girl. she should have known better than to let you drop out, i bet she encouraged it!" alexia scoffed shaking her head.

"yeah well you won't need to worry about seeing her again to kill her because we broke up." you mumbled, gaze dropping to the floor as you picked at a loose thread on your shorts, the ripped denim edges now suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

"oh great! so you drop out of school, move in with your girlfriend, your girlfriend breaks up you and then you move in with alba and make her lie to everyone." alexia laughed but it was a bitter noise which stuck in the back of her throat, your eyes snapping up toward her.

"why do you assume she broke up with me?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper as alexia failed to hear but alba didn't, her frown melting from one of anger to concern.

"ale." alba warned quietly, catching the new look you were sporting as your fists balled by your side. "no! you do not get to defend her and coddle her alba. everyone makes excuses for her!" your eldest sister warned sending the brunette beside you quiet, but it didn't stop her hand from finding yours, gently forcing it out of a fist and squeezing it supportively.

"you are always going on about how everyone treats you like a baby. well look at how you act!" alexia gestured wildly with her hands.

"you're supposed to be smart. to study and learn and finish school, then get a great job, help people and help make change like you wanted to. you have so much potential hermanita why would you just throw that all away? do you not care about your life? your future? a career?" alexia lectured, voice growing louder as your eyes flickered nervously toward the door aware your mami was only a few feet away in the kitchen.

"alexia i-" you tried to answer her questions but it would appear they were rhetorical as she held up a finger silencing you. "you are going back to school. do you know how much even a year costs? no you don't because you didn't pay for it! and you promised me." alexia hit you where it really hurt as your face crumpled.

when you'd first floated the thought of law school it had been on the floor of her apartment, the three of you laid down on the floor the night she moved in testing out the new white shaggy rug alexia had insisted on buying for the place she'd bought after she signed a new contract with barca.

you hadn't finished high school yet but you hardly needed to try, you'd always been smart, book smart anyway, and you passed through school with ease. much to the infuriation of your friends who spent hours and hours studying for tests you'd finish a half hour early and that was after you'd already gone through all your answers twice to double check.

"how many years is law school?" you'd asked suddenly, both your sisters sending you a perplexed look as you rolled your eyes and snatched alba's phone, your own out of reach on the counter as you googled your question.

"why?" alexia pushed herself into a sitting position to look down at you as alba grabbed her phone back and flicked your ear for taking it.

"just thinking." you shrugged, moving your hands behind your head. "about going to law school?" alba had asked now as again you shrugged.

"maybe. oh! can get we get sushi for dinner?"

for the weeks that followed that night you continued to do your own research, hauled up in your room reading through the different kinds of law, lengths of study, different schools, but all of that came screeching to a halt when you'd looked at the cost.

though you'd tried to keep it to yourself there wasn't much you could get past alexia. alba was much easier to lie to or manipulate as you needed but your eldest sister seemed to have been born with a built in lie detector.

which was part of the reason you'd avoided her so much these last few months for fear of her finding out you weren't in school anymore.

but it was just after you'd graduated when of course the questions started. what would you do now, where did you see yourself in a few years time, what were your goals for the future? and all accompanied by the growing pressure of your families boasting that you were so smart you could go anywhere and do anything.

only, you couldn't do the one thing you actually thought you might be good at.

you'd applied for a scholarship without telling anyone, a last final hope that maybe you could make something work. but when you got the letter back in the mail informing it had gone to a different applicant you'd abandoned the thought all together.

but of course there was one person who saw right through your attempts to evade the questions and the compliments, alexia.

you'd all just finished having dinner after your graduation ceremony, the table of your family and friends loud and rowdy all drinking to celebrate you as you watched on with a smile, your eldest sister knocking her knee against yours.

nodding for you to step outside with her you'd followed, the two of you slipping away to the balcony of the restaurant which given the late hour of night was a lot quieter as you exhaled and relished in the momentary peace.

"so, law school." alexia had started, catching you off guard as the walls you'd had up all night when it came to the questions of your future faltered for a moment. "the scholarship did not go through." again, she was right on target.

"how did you know i even-" you frowned and shook your head in bewilderment as she only shrugged, refusing to disclose an answer. "its the cost nena, sí?" alexia spoke, softer now as you hesitated before nodding and exhaling, the walls tumbling down.

"you have to pay for the first year up front. then the next two years you are put onto a program where you do not pay until you graduate and start to work. like a debt! it gets paid off overtime with interest. but that first year alone, it is too much." you admitted with a shake of your head as alexia only hummed.

"please don't tell mami. she would do something stupid like sell the car or mortgage the house again for a loan, she has already given up so much for us." you pleaded quietly, eyes baring into hers as the taller girl looked away.

"ale please! i am already looking into other scholarships for other courses, other schools, other options." you begged, which wasn't a lie. "no." your sister replied simply as you deflated, looking upwards with a deep sigh.

giving up on the conversation you stood from your chair to head back inside, intending to enjoy one last night of peace before alexia would force you to come clean to your family.

"ay hermanita." your sisters hand grabbed your wrist, nodding for you to sit back down. "no, you will go to law school." alexia corrected as you took your seat, sending her a frown. "ale i already said-" her hand silenced you.

"i will pay for the first year." alexia stated firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument though you were never one to listen to her. "no you will not!" you scoffed, again trying to stand and leave but she tugged you back to your seat.

"alexia." you sighed deeply as her hands found yours and forced you to look at her. "hermana, you are so smart. smarter than me, than alba, than most people i know! you have so much potential it is a waste for you not to use your mind to learn and to do good because of something like money." your sister spoke kindly but firmly, eyes locked with yours.

"you are not going to drop this, are you?" you asked, lips hinting at a smile. "no, you know me better than that." alexia smiled smugly, dropping your hands to pull you into a tight hug. "and you really need school if you cannot even win an argument with me. some lawyer!" alexia teased softly.

"i don't even know what to say ale." you exhaled shakily as your sister kissed your forehead, lips lingering there.

"start with a thank you hermana. we can call it your birthday and christmas present for the next...ten years." alexia mumbled against your skin as your body vibrated with laughter against hers. "thank you, thank you so much."

"but pequeña promise me you will make the most of it. that you will go and you will learn and do great things, greater than any of us." alexia stared down at you as you nodded, promising her with a smile.

the moment was interrupted by alba bursting outside as you broke apart, slinging her arms around both of you with a cheer and a lopsided grin.

"vamos hermanas! time for shots."

"that is not fair alexia. i never asked you to pay." you spoke up again, standing to your feet with a frown as alexia scoffed. "you might not have asked but you also did not do much to fight me on it, did you?" alexia bit back, squaring up and taking a step forward as you refused to back down.

"are you even going to let me speak? or just talk at me, after all i know how much you love the sound of your own voice capitana." you spat, tone now laced with venom.

"vale! i think we should all just take some time and some space to calm down before we continue." alba stepped in, trying to push her way between the two of you sensing it was bordering on ugly.

"and how could you let this happen! you kept her little secret and you did nothing to try and change her mind?" alexia instead turned her anger on her other younger sister who pulled a face.

"alexia you have not even heard her out for five minutes. i have had three weeks of conversations with her hermana, you are not being fair." alba defended you, having reacted similarly when you'd first come to her and realizing her mistake once you explained yourself.

"fair! whats not fair is her giving up the moment something gets hard. you found school easy but not everything will be easy for you! that is what being an adult is, if you want to be treated like one." alexia attempted to push her way past alba who held firm despite being the shorter of the two.

"ale that is enough. walk away, calm down and hear her out afterwards." alba spoke calmly again, though you knew both of them well enough to see she was near to meeting alexia at the same level of anger.

"no! i have never been so disappointed in you, ever. i thought i was investing in you and your potential but if you are so happy to throw it away and drop out of school? fine! but what a waste it was then." alexia spat, glowering at you as hurt flashed across your face.

"you dropped out of school?" all three of your heads whipped to the door which was now open again, your mami standing there with a face like thunder as you shrunk, wishing a sinkhole would form and swallow you up.

"mami-" you started as alba and alexia stepped away from one another, all the anger which had once radiated around the room sucked out in a second.

"no. come!" she pointed for you to step outside as your body deflated and you made your way out of alba's room, the older girl moving to follow but eli held up her hand again.

"you two stay here, fix this." she ordered, gesturing between them before pulling the door closed as her footsteps sounded in the distance. a pause of silence passed where you could have heard a pin drop, before the sound of eli's yelling echoed through the house and both alexia and alba winced at the harsh catalan bouncing from wall to wall.

neither girl spoke a word sat side by side on alba's bed as they listened in to the entire lecture, not hearing you even say a single word back before a door was heard slamming and there was silence again.

sharing a look both older girls left the room, finding your mami dishing up lunch. "eat please." the woman instructed calmly as they both sat down at the table. "where is she?" alba spoke first as eli took her own seat.

"your sister went for a walk." the woman answered curtly, anger still present in her voice as alexia remained quiet, picking at her food and ignoring the looks sent her way by her sister across the table.

lunch being painfully awkward the silence was broken by the sound of the door opening again as you stepped inside, alba the only one to look toward you and noticing your red and puffy eyes where you'd clearly been crying.

"mami." you tried, the woman ignoring you as she continued to eat. "mami por favor, can we just talk about this?" you requested softly, voice dangerously close to breaking.

"mami please, at least look at me." you all but begged, voice cracking as alba tore her own eyes away unable to watch as yours filled up again with tears.

but when again you received nothing in return you deflated even further, shoulders slumping as you dropped your keys on the counter and silently made your way to your childhood room, door closing with a gentle click.

"mami." alba frowned, the woman pushing her chair back with a scrape, collecting their empty plates and wordlessly walking to the kitchen.

"mierda!" alexia swore as suddenly alba kicked her under the table with a glare. "puta." the older girl spat back rubbing her shin which started to throb. "this is all your fault, big mouth." alba huffed, pushing back her own chair and heading for your room.

but as hours passed she was unsuccessful in trying to coax you out or to let her in, your door remaining locked and the entire family on edge, a frosty silence falling throughout the normally bright and joyous home.

alexia seemed unfazed, laying on the lounge watching the barca men play, arms crossed and a placid look on her face. "ale!" she looked up at the call of her name. "i'm going to the store mija." eli informed as her daughter nodded, the older woman out the door before she could even blink.

"what?" alexia sighed as alba appeared again, blocking her view of the tv with arms crossed. "you know what." her younger sister retorted. "how is this my fault? she is the one who made all the mistakes, mami was going to find out eventually anyway!" alexia defended herself as alba rolled her eyes and grabbed the remote, flicking off the tv.

"alba!" "alexia!" her sister mocked in the same tone, taking a seat beside her. "well if you won't hear her out, i will talk." and with that she spent the next ten minutes explaining everything alexia had failed to hear from you, the blondes stony features softening.

"oh." was all she managed to get out. "oh!" alba repeated sarcastically, shoving the older girl.

"see? now do you see why this is your fault? you didn't give her a chance to speak and you did not see her when she came home before ale, you did not see her break when mami ignored her." alba shook her head.

"you need to fix it. and today! we cannot be like this over the holidays." alba warned as alexia nodded in agreement, at a slight loss for words for once.

when again alba was met with silence as she knocked gently and called out your name, alexia took over and opened your door using a butter knife to easily pick the lock. but when the door popped open, they were only met with an empty room and an open window.

"i know where she will be."

"alba leave me be por favor i am not in the mood." you warned with a sigh, hearing the footsteps approach you from behind. your body tensed as they stopped beside you, the taller girl taking a seat on the sand but taking caution to leave a reasonable gap between the two of you.

"no way." you scoffed quietly, moving to stand and walk away before alexia grabbed your wrist. "please. i am not here to argue or to yell, just to listen." the blonde promised softly as you tugged your hand free and gave her a cautious look.

"i promise hermana."

not finding the same burning anger from before present in her eyes you took a seat again, scooting a little further away and tucking your knees to your chest as the wind picked up a little.

"did you pick the lock?" you broke the silence first, refusing to look at her as your eyes remained locked on the horizon. "sí. did alba show you how to sneak out?" alexia asked, also staring out at the water with a slight smile.

"years ago." you answered, having been caught once by alba when you were trying to get out the front door to go to a party she for once had taken pity on you, showing you how to safely climb down the side of the house and out the back gate when you were just fifteen.

granted she did also use that particular instance to blackmail you into doing her laundry for a week, so really pity may have been the wrong word to use.

"good, i showed her first." alexia smiled properly now, pulling her hood over her head in an attempt to block out the wind whistling sharply through her ears.

"so. alba told you?" you again broke the silence which fell, eyes dropping to the ground as you traced patterns in the sand with your fingers. "i would like to hear it from you." alexia spoke, her stomach knotting up at the memory of the harsh words she'd slung at you hours ago.

"you weren't completely wrong, school was hard, really hard." you started with a sigh and a frown, focused on the sand beneath your fingertips. "none of my friends are studying, they all chose to take gap years and travel, together." your tone shifted, a slight bitterness to it.

"leaving you behind." alexia spoke softly, glancing toward you as you nodded. "i just-" you started, clearly struggling to get your words out. "i don't not like school, its hard but i want to be a lawyer, i think." you continued, shaking the sand off your hand.

"all of my teachers speak about how much of a commitment law is once you are licensed to practice and once you start in a firm." you looked back out to the ocean, well aware of your sisters eyes boring into the side of your head.

"i have to do two hundred hours of placement minimum, a hundred hours each year after the first. and i just...i am only twenty one alexia, i like learning about law but i do not want to be a lawyer right now." you admitted, chin resting on your knees as you fingers picked at your shoe laces.

"so you dropped out." alexia had only already put the pieces together but wanted you to know she was listening. "yes. but they hold my place in the course for a year, that is the bit that nobody ever lets me explain." you murmured, voice barely above a whisper and almost snatched away in the wind.

"oh pequeña, i should have let you speak." alexia mumbled, guilt wracking her body as you hummed. "i am so so sorry hermana you were right not to tell me, i just messed everything up." alexia sighed deeply, rubbing her face tiredly.

"yes you did. mami won't even look at me!" you puffed air from your nose, stabbing the sand angrily with your finger. "we can fix that, i will fix this." alexia promised, taking her chances as she moved to be right by your side, relieved when you did not make an attempt to move.

"i have a job you know? thats what i've been doing since i left, just working and saving." you confessed, still stabbing at the sand and refusing to look at your sister.

"i work reception at a dental clinic, not far from your apartment actually." you chuckled a little at that though you were never too worried about running into her. you knew her training schedule too well and the chances of the alexia putellas stepping foot in a public dental clinic was slim to none.

"i am going to save up enough to pay you back, it will take time but i will pay it back, all of it." your face hardened again which didn't go unnoticed by your sister who frowned. "pequeña-" she started, a hand coming to sit on your knee which you pushed away.

"no, you cannot change my mind. i am not having you hold it over me for the rest of my life alexia. i wish i had never said yes!" you warned, finally meeting her eyes though it broke your sisters heart to see the obvious pain and trouble swirling behind them.

"hey i wont-" "you already did alexia. or have you gotten so old you fail to remember conversations a few hours ago? if you can even call yelling at me a conversation." you reminded sharply, frown set back into your face as you shuffled away from her slightly.

"i am not old." was all she retorted back in offence, causing a small snicker to escape from you as your features softened slightly. "you're basically thirty, that is halfway to sixty." you mumbled, hint of a smile on your lips which dissapeared as quickly as it formed.

"i am twenty nine." her arm stretched out to shove you lightly, eyes on the horizon and a smile on her lips. "still old, should be in a museum." your own arm shoved her back, sharing a quick glance of amusement momentarily.

"know what will be in the museums? all of my trophies." she smirked as you rolled your eyes. "they will need to pry them from mami's cold dead fingers first, or get to them before alba sells them all on ebay." you joked, the frostiness from before beginning to melt slightly.

"i should make a list, she really will sell them." alexia sighed with a shake of her head. "probably already has, or some of your smelly boots and match shirts." you smiled, your sister shaking her head beside you.

"i do not want you to pay me back hermanita." the conversation shifted as you now sighed. "ale-" you tried but she cut you off. "no. at least not yet, if you really want to i cannot stop you. if you decide to go back and you become a big fancy lawyer we can talk about it then, but promise me you will not use your savings from the last few months." alexia warned firmly, your head turning to look at her.

"promise me." she repeated, holding out her pinky. "really?" you gave her a look. "sí, unbroken agreement." she wiggled her finger as you sighed and gave in, locking your own with hers as you both leaned in to kiss your hands.

"i really am so sorry pequeña. i said some very nasty things, i did not mean them but i still said them and that wasn't okay. but i love you very much and i did mean it when i said you are smart, so so smart." alexia again moved closer as you kept her gaze.

"but your life should be yours to do with it what you want, and if that is not law that is okay. you could do anything! the world is yours if you want to take it." alexia smiled sincerely which you finally returned, settling her anxiety.

"i think i am going to travel for a little bit, see more of the world." you spoke up, alexia nodding as you both looked back out to the ocean, your head falling to her shoulder. "you should, it is beautiful. so long as you come home afterwards!" she nudged you with a grin.

"maybe, i might fall in love with the world and never want to come back!" you teased as your sister scoffed. "there isn't a corner of the world where you could hide from me hermanita." she threatened playfully, a gentle hint of insecurity in her voice.

"i would always come home. i'd miss alba too much!" you shrugged, alexia pushing you with a glare. "what? we had all those years at home together when you were off playing football to bond, you're second on the list now, maybe even third if we're including mapi." you grinned, your sister pulling you into a headlock.

"i am always number one, i even have it on a trophy!" alexia reminded with a smirk as you struggled to pull away. "i was six when i gave that to you!" you protested, flinching as her fingers dug into your ribs eliciting a loud laugh to fall from your lips.

"you used to follow me around everywhere, my little shadow." the blonde smiled fondly and let you up as you huffed and fixed your hair.

"i didn't know any better!" your eyes rolled as you halfheartedly punched her shoulder. "and besides you hated it! you used to always tell me off and yell at me to go away." you chuckled at the memory.

"now its you yelling that at me, full circle." alexia mocked, pinching your cheek and draping her arm over your shoulder pulling you into her side, a comfortable silence falling once more as you both watched the waves crash.

"do you remember when you tried to drown me here?" you spoke up, a smirk ghosting your lips. "i did not try to drown you!" the older girl protested sending you a glare.

"you dragged me out past the waves and threw me in, before i knew how to swim!" "sí, and what happened? you learned to swim, you are welcome." "that was not a thank you."

"so what happened with mariana?" alexia questioned curiously. "nothing." you shrugged lightly, the look of disbelief having you roll your eyes.

"if she cheated or she hurt you or she left you or anything, i will take mapi and we will take a baseball bat and we will-" alexia started to explain as you pushed her hands down where she had started to demonstrate just what the baseball bat was for.

"no! nothing like that. when i moved in with her after leaving school things just sort of...fizzled. i think we just saw too much of each other and we decided we were better off as friends, we still talk sometimes but not very much." you confessed honestly as alexia pulled you into another hug, kissing the crown of your head.

"vamos pequeña we should head back. i need to speak with mami, i will fix my mistake." alexia promised as she pushed herself to her feet, holding out a hand to help you up.

"alexia!" you huffed as she started to pull you up but let go, sending your body tumbling ass first into the sand with a grunt. "you always fall for that." your older sister snickered, turning and starting to walk away.

"puta." you mumbled under your breath, standing up and brushing off the loose sand before catching up to her. "never gets old." alexia sighed happily sending you a smirk as you shoved her, the two of you falling into step.

"know what is old though? you." "joder, i am only twenty nine!"

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso community #woso imagine #woso blurbs #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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danikamariewrites · 6 months

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i took a look at my room and started fantasizing ab azriel as usual. And it got me thinking ab his room aesthetic blended w his mate who is super girly. Like pink covers, satin pillows, baby pink everything. And imagine az with a mate who moves into his room and starts to bring in her own stuff, and he one day walks in and his dark room has pink bedsheets with the cutest stuffed animals. And to the right side of his bed are the weapons he uses to kill enemies. Like the sudden change in aesthetics is comical. He doesn’t even mind he just loves it, he’d ofc never let anyone else in his room, but his mate? yeah she can do whateverrr she wants in here. Could I please request this? Maybe the ic walk past his room and sees pink cutesy girly stuff and their jaw drop

Combined Aesthetics

Azriel x reader

A/n: I think this is so adorable. He would love the pink and all your stuff in his room and have heart eyes every time he sees you sitting on the bed that’s now the bed you share 😍

Warnings: none

You and Azriel have two very different aesthetics as you lovingly pointed out at the start of your relationship. While he gravitated more towards darker and minimal decor you preferred colorful and cozy.

At the start of your relationship Azriel mostly stayed the night at your apartment. He said he was comfortable there, plus he liked all your little knick knacks and decor. Your place felt like home to him. It’s a safe space for him and he feels at peace with you. A warm feeling always rising in his chest when his with you.

Even though his home is with the IC and his permanent room is at the River House with everyone else he can’t help but think of you as home. The first time you stayed the night in his room was when you met the IC. Azriel invited you over to finally meet his family who you became instant friends with which made Azriel very happy to see his two worlds no longer be separated.

Cassian grilled you immediately about your relationship of course. You joke back and forth with him and Rhys making Azriel smile. You and Nesta clicked instantly as well. And you were planning on spending time with each of them already. And of course Nyx stole your heart. The little boy clung to you instantly, wanting you to play with him all night.

Once dessert wound down the two of you headed up to his room. Azriel stopped outside the door gripping the handle so hard his knuckles turned white. You rest your hand on his to get his attention. Az looks at you like he forgot you were there for a second.

He felt like a teenager bringing a female to his bedroom for the first time and mother above did it feel nerve wracking. Az wasn’t nervous for you to stay the night. Truthfully he was embarrassed by how bare and dark his room is compared to yours.

“Hey, you ok baby?” He nods, “Yeah it’s just…I want you to feel at home here.” You sweetly smile up at your boyfriend. “Of course I will Azzy. It’s your room how could I not?” He nods stiffly and pushes the door open. You walk in first, Az follows and turns on the lights.

You stop to take in your new surroundings. Your heart broke at how empty his room is. You knew Azriel was minimal about how much space he takes up, but even in his own room? His personal space? It felt a little cold like his shadows.

The floor was wood, no carpet anywhere. Just a large velvet arm chair and foot rest by the fireplace. A simple clock on the mantle. Thick black curtains cover the floor to ceiling windows and balcony doors. His bed was simple. A black duvet with two pillows resting against the headboard. You were positive that if you pulled the cover back you’d find black sheets as well.

Tears pricked your eyes. You know the reason why too. Which broke your heart even more. It was the same reason why it took you months to convince him to have a section of your closet and a drawer in your dresser. Azriel never wanted to be a burden and take up too much space.

It had been minutes since you moved. Azriel was starting to get concerned. He turned you by your shoulders, instantly becoming concerned by your tears. You answer the heartbreaking look on his face with your own question, your voice coming out small, “why don’t you have anything?”

Azriel just shrugged. You pulled him into a tight loving embrace. Az rubs small circles on your back. “It’s ok love. I have enough. I don’t need material things, not when I have you.” He gently brushes the pad of his thumb across your cheek to wipe away your tears.

You nod giving him a small smile. “I love you so much Az.” “I love you too sweetheart.” He kisses the top of your head, leading you to bed.

——

A year later Azriel asked if you would move in with him. The mating bond had snapped and been accepted and he couldn’t handle the distance from you. Besides, you wanted out of your tiny apartment. This was just a stepping stone until you got a house for yourselves.

“Make yourself at home love. This is your room too, put anything wherever you want.” Your eyes light up at the opportunity to make Azriel’s room homey.

You put your two snow globes from the Winter Court on the mantle next to some other souvenirs you picked up from your travels. You even found stuff Az got from missions in a closet, adding it next to your stuff. A marble vase now sat on a low laying table in front of the hearth. And your pink fluffy arm chair sits across from Azriel’s velvet one.

When he helped you move it in he asked if you wanted to buy matching chairs to which you said no. You love the vast difference in style and want to keep it that way. You said mismatched items made his room feel homey. You wouldn’t say no to buying a carpet though.

A month later Azriel came home from a mission before dinner. He wanted a bath and a nap. Opening the door he found you snuggled up in his large arm chair, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket reading a book.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the ridiculous amount of decorative pillows on the bed along with a new duvet, the plush doll from your childhood and the stuffed animal he got you.

You stared at him apprehensively, not knowing if he’ll be happy with this drastic change of color. You never wanted to disturb his space but you couldn’t have the bed so bare. It made you sad.

Azriel walked over to the bed running a scared hand across the white fluffy duvet. His hazel eyes finally met yours and relief flooded your features. Azriel is smiling at the new change. “It’s like your apartment. I loved everything in there, it was homey. I’m glad you got this.” You clapped your hands in excitement, “Yay! Oh and you’re going to love the bathroom. I got new products and added a few candles. Oh! And new towels!”

He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips as you led him into the bathroom to point out what you purchased.

——

While Azriel was in his meeting with Rhys you were cuddled up in your chair waiting for him to come back. You had been sitting in his lap while he worked and desperately wanted his warmth back. Now that winter had settled in you were constantly shivering.

Another chill runs down your spine as you unwrapped the blanket from your shoulders. Padding across the bedroom you head down to the kitchen for some hot chocolate, leaving the door ajar.

Cassian whistled while walking down the hall to his room. He glanced sideways into you and Azriel’s room, stepping a few more paces Cassian freezes quickly, turning around and rushing back to poke his head in. The Generals jaw drops as he takes in the brightness of his brother’s room.

He was never really allowed in Azriel’s room. His brother liked to keep his life private and Cassian respects that. However…the door is open and he isn’t going to miss his one opportunity to look around. After finding the pink sheets, the flowery soaps, and vanilla candles Cassian smirked to himself as he took one last look around before leaving.

Turning to face the doorway he jumped at the sight of Azriel. His shadows flowing angrily around his shoulders and an unpleasant look on his face. “What are you doing in here?” Az asks in a dark yet oddly calm tone. Cassian began to stumble over his words trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t get Truthteller chucked at his head.

Azriel moved swiftly, grabbing Cassian by the collar of his leathers. “This is me and my mates room. So why are you in here?” He asked again with a more gruff voice. “I-“

“Az?” Your voice breaks him from his anger with Cassian. Your mate whips around to face you, letting go of Cass. “Hi my love. I was just asking Cass what he’s up to.” “Oh,” you say tilting your head curiously. “What do you think of the new room Cass?” You smile up at him hopeful.

“Uumm,” Azriel nudged him. A reminder that if he was rude Azriel would kill him. “I love it.” He says genuinely. “I always thought Az could use some more color and fluffy stuff in his life.” Cassian shoots Azriel a shit eating grin that you miss as you go to put down your mug on the table.

Still looking at Azriel, Cassian continues speaking, “I love the contrast between Azriel’s weapons just layin’ around and your pink sheets.” Azriel pushes Cassian out, slamming the door in his face. Cassian’s howling laughter reaches your ears through the thick wood.

You give Azriel a questioning look. “He had to leave, things to do and all that.” Az says. You nod and giggle seeing through his silly little lie.

“I’m still really cold, can I sit on your lap again?” You give him a small pout which Azriel melts at. “Always my love. I could never let you be cold.” Az sits in his arm chair holding up your fuzzy blanket, ready to wrap you in it. You settle into his embrace and he leaves small kisses across your forehead. If you two could stay like this all day you would be content.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar azriel #azriel #azriel x y/n #azriel x female!reader

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amusingmusie · 3 months

Note

The Demon! Nel asks have my brain exploding with cheesy ideas, I swear. She'd make fun of his hair cut, and he'd spend an inordinate amount of time making his little shadow trip her every time she walks down stairs.

She'd have his demonic brain so divided that he'd probably phase himself across hell just because she was talking to someone other than him. Alastor being very "I'm uncomfortable when you're not about me" with Nel is my favorite!

My silly little idea:

"What are you doing here." Her voice dripping with annoyance as the sinner she had been discussing the acid rain forecast with launched away from them in a desperate attempt to flee from swirling mass of black and green that just manifested itself behind her.

"Oh, what a surprise! I didn't see you there, my sweetest of evils. I have some business in this part of Hell and really, I can't be late. And now you're in my way, you do so enjoy being a huge inconvenience!" (There's no reason for him to be there. He just literally yeeted himself so hard and fast across the map to interrupt their conversation. He'd be panting if he wasn't gritting his teeth together so hard.)

For you, anon :))

THIS IS FOR FUN ONLY AND NOT CANON TO YOURS TRULY

Five O'clock Somewhere (But Not Here)

Nel heads to the bar to get a damn drink, grumpy as ever and in desperate need of cheap booze. It won't get her drunk, but it will allow her a reprieve from Alastor's insidious presence that seems to trail her wherever she goes in this shitty building. The Hazbin Hotel is a fitting name for such a rundown crapshack, though she feels that the Shithole Inn would work just as well.

The second she crosses from red carpet to green floorboards she can taste newfound freedom- until there's a hum of radio static that pitches in her ears, causing her to hiss and scowl as a familiar shadow materializes right inside of her personal bubble.

Alastor pops into existence practically on top of her, eternal yellow grin widening as his crimson eyes crinkle in pure malicious delight.

“Sweetheart! There you are. I noticed a lack of your terrible black cloud tainting my radio tower and just had to find you- I can’t have you running off on me.” A clawed finger reaches out to bop her nose, but she dodges out of the way with a growl. “I see you’ve decided to curse the parlor with your dreary disposition instead. How delightfully horrific!”

“The only curse here is you.”

There’s a loud incorrect buzzer that sounds from his staff. “Wrong, I am the host of the hotel! So close.”

“Host, pest, plague, same difference to me,” Nel snaps before attempting to brush past him. “Move your boney ass, I’m getting a drink.”

“This early in the day?” Alastor steps right back in front of her to block her from escaping. “Why, it’s hardly past noon.”

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“Well, if you’re so insistent that it’s a drink you’re after, I’ll prepare it for you.”

“Jesus, the fucking bar cat is right there!”

Said bar cat flips her the bird as he downs his fifth whiskey of the hour. As much as it stings her pride, Nel attempts to smooth things over by awkwardly quirking up the side of her lips in a strained smile- she needs an ally here.

Husk blinks one droopy eye at a time, decides this shit isn't worth it, then grabs his precious bottle and shuffles away from the bar out of the lobby.

Well. Shit.

The radio asshole laughs down at her, “Scotch on the rocks, dear?”

“I’d prefer a lobotomy.”

Using his microphone to herd her towards a worn bar stool, he hardly bats an eye as she tries to snatch it out of his hands. “Perhaps over dinner this evening, if you’re a well behaved little harpy."

Nel refuses to reply; she groans and lays her head down onto the sticky bartop, gluing her bangs to the sugar-stained wood.

Eternity has never seemed so fucking long.

#my asks #the pookies #first time posting demon Al #first time posting Husk too #and in third person #a drabble!#demon Nel

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lala1267 · 10 months

Text

His pretty baby.

Summary: A young girl named Carmen ends up asleep in Elvis's lap in a library.

Warning: age gap.

Notes: DADDY ELVIS😫😍

Carmen. Her name was Carmen. But it was never really said out of other people's mouths. She was never really there. Although her precious caramel goldilocks hair and her marble hazel eyes made her out to be well spoken, she was just a girl that lived in the shadows of others, just a girl that found peace in the white noise. Her lininen curls, her cartoon eyes, her button nose, her frilly socks, her checkered school skirts, all cascaded or even disguised her shy personality. She was naive, innocent, and most of all, dumb. She would sit in class, squinting her eyes and tapping her pencil against the glazed wooden desk, searching every part of her brain for an answer to the thick test that blurred her vision. She would do anything that anyone would say. She would talk with the old creepy men instead of run, she would attempt to hug a tiger instead of watch it from afar, she would probably jump on thin ice instead of walk, she would attempt to walk on the tight rope instead of staying in the audience. She was that kind of girl, clueless and dumb. She could be in a very important discussion, but if a pretty butterfly flies past her, her eyes would follow like a magnet. She always had a thing where she would tend to get distracted easily. But you couldn't blame her for her childishness. She was only 17, after all.

A warm summer evening

Warm summer breeze blew through the windows and past the thin white curtains. Hot sun beams shined through the glass window and onto the living room carpet. The sound of Carmen's mother making supper could be heard. Dishes clanging, and cutlery ringing like a melody. Carmen sat perched up on the living room sofa that had scribbled lines of crayon all over it due to her siblings that were still toddlers. The sound of her siblings giggling and running around echoed throughout the busy house. The sound of the dog barking and her father making business calls were all overwhelming. But it didn't manage to pry her doll eyes from the small television that was placed opposite the couch. She looked at the white comp sequin jumpsuit ghost that danced and sang on a large stage that shined in the stage lights. Elvis Presley. Carmen's hands fiddled, and her teethe grinded as she watched the handsome man.

"Carmen! How many times do I have to tell you!? Your food is ready! No one listens to me in this goddamn house, i do everything and no one helps me....." and she goes on.

Her mother's shouting boiled Carmen's blood like a kettle but she just kept it bottled inside of her locked heart, like she did with all of her feelings.

Carmen eyes shut and opened again before she got up and made her way into the kitchen. She sat herself down at the dining table and began to eat her meal.

Friday: after school

Carmen stopped by a local library after school. She walked around the Isles, carefully examining each and every book, picking and choosing with her wandering eyes. Her checkered skirt stopped just in the middle of her thighs, extenuating her sun-kissed legs. She wore a button-up white t-shirt and a tie. Long white socks ran up until the top of her calfs. She wore a pair of white and red saddle shoes.

Her small fingers ran along the sides of the books that were neatly placed on the shelves. Her concentration was broken when a lot of voices sounded at the entrance of the library. It sounded as if a crowd of people just entered or left.

"Can you please all exit the library."

A female voice said loudly.

'Probably not for me' Carmen thought to herself. The sound of cameras flickering also echoed around the atmosphere. But the commotion was brought to a stop when the sound of the doors closing was heard. Carmen turned around to see what was going on but she saw nothing, not a single person.

"What the..."

She whispered to herself as her brows furrowed and her eyes scanned the empty library. Where did everyone go? It was like a dream but except, it wasn't. She slowly turned back around to carry on scanning the books although she was still very confused.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of a book that looked somewhat interesting, but it was on the top shelf. She was only 5,4. She let out a loud sigh as she craned her head to look all the way up to it. She went on her tiptoes and reached her small arm as far as she could, but she had no luck. She tried again. This time, she grabbed onto one of the shelves for support. Suddenly, the smell of a musky, woody, manly cologne invaded her nostrils. Her nose twitched at how strong the smell was. Just then, a large male hand grabbed the book that she wanted with ease. The fingers of the hand were decorated in big shiny rings that were each individually studded with a different kind of expensive rock. She followed the hand and turned around. Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped as she saw the one and only Elvis Presley standing right in front of her. He wore a lavish silk shirt that was decorated with coulerfull patterns and black flared trousers that were studded with gleaming rhinestones. A large gold belt made itself comfy on his hips as a pair of his signature sunglasses rested on his nose bridge. The initials "E.P." were studded on the side neatly. His black velvet hair hung over his face perfectly. Carmen stood there shyly, staring up at him in awe whilst he towered over her like a building.

"I'm guessing you want this?"

He said in his deep southern drawl as he held the book up infront of her. Her words were ripped from her voice box and her brain was foggy. She couldn't talk or even process what was happening. She nodded slightly before she took the book with her trembling hand. She looked at the book before shifting her eyes back up to the unethereal man that stood infront of her. His brows furrowed and a slight grin formed on his plump lips.

"I thought I rented out this place, what are you still doing here?"

His eyes stared straight into hers. She managed to form some words from the dephs of her soul.

"I dunno."

She said quietly as her shoulders shrugged. She brought her hand up to her mouth. She began to bite her nails.

"You don't talk much do ya."

Elvis said. His smile quickly disappeared when he noticed her chewing her nails. He brought his hand up to hers and slowly pulled it away from her mouth.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't bite ya nails, it ain't good for a lil girl like yourself."

He said as he rubbed her small hand with his thumb. He looked down at her hand and then back up at her.

"You don't have to be shy baby, I ain't gonna bite."

He said reassuringly as he looked into her bambi eyes. She just stood there, trying to not ruin her only time of meeting Elvis.

"Why aren't ya out playin' with your freinds or something?"

He asked as his hand was still wrapped around hers.

"I-i like reading."

She said quietly.

"Well, you must be Intellegent then."

He said with a smile on his face. If only he knew how wrong he was. She was the polar opposite of intelligent, she was anything but intelligent. She let out a slight giggle at his comment.

"What's so funny, doll?"

He asks with a grin on his face. Carmen looked up to him.

"I'm not intelligent."

She says, this was followed by a round of giggles. Elvis smiled and chuckled slightly aswell.

"You're cute."

He says, still chuckling slightly. His hand was still latched onto hers.

"What's your name honey?"

He asked. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear before answering his question.

"Carmen"

She said quietly. Elvis smiled as his eyebrows raised.

"I ain't never heard that name before, but it's nice. It suits ya."

He says. Carmen smiled and blushed at his comment.

"You blushin' already, if anything I should be blushin', you are the pretty one!"

Elvis says as he laughed. Carmen giggled along with him. She was so cute.

"Why don't ya come and sit down with me? I wouldn't want you to be alone now."

Carmen's heart suddenly pounded faster against her ribcage as she scavangered for her words.

"Oh, uhm, s-sure."

She said quietly. A large smile formed on Elvis's face as if he had achieved something. He gripped her small hand before escorting her to a seating area that was in the corner of the library. She sat down on a chair as he sat down next to her. She placed her book on the glazed wooden desk that was in front of them. She looked up into his glimmering eyes as he looked down at hers. They talked and talked until eventually Carmen became comfortable with him. The more she listened to his calming southern voice, the more she fell in love with him. She was laughing like a child and talking like there was no tomorrow. Elvis looked down at her small body, which was inches away from him. He looked back up at her.

"Why don't ya take a seat on my lap? It's more comfortable."

He said with his signature smile. Carmen looked at his lap and then back up at him. She smiled.

"Sure."

She said happily before she climbed into his lap. He held onto her thigh with one of his hands. He wrapped one of his arms around her body so that he could hold his book.

"Ya comfy baby?"

He asked as he looked into her eyes. She nodded with a wide grin. He looked back down at the book and opened it whilst still keeping Carmen cosy on his lap. He began to read outloud, and he read to Carmen. She smiled as she listened to his soothing voice. His voice was music to her ears. She looked at his hand, which turned the page occasionally. She loved his large rings that decorated his long fingers. He had large veins running through his hand. She slowly felt her eyelids begin to close, and she tried her best to keep them open. His voice was putting her to sleep. His cologne, his warmth, his voice, his touch, was all too pleasant for little Carmen. Her body gradually leaned onto Elvis until she was sound asleep, resting her head on his chest. Elvis chuckled slightly before placing the book down and wrapping his arms around her. He stroked her body and played with her golden hair. The start of a true love affair.

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wndaswife · 1 year

Note

“This will be the last time you lie to me” promt with Wanda

wanda maximoff & fem!reader

tags: fluff, age regression, mommy kink, mommy!wanda maximoff, little!reader. MINORS DNI.

word count: 622

a/n: i originally read this as an angst prompt, but imagined something a lot cuter instead <333

“Y/N, you wouldn’t happen to know where the cookies for dinner tonight are, would you?” Wanda chimes as she’s reaching up on the highest shelf of the kitchen cabinets.

You shift on the couch, lifting your head from the armrest to peek above the horizon of the couch to look at mommy closing the kitchen cabinet. You continue sucking on the tip of your thumb and slouch back down onto the couch, cuddling your little unicorn stuffie against your chest. “No, mommy, I don’t know where the cookies are,” you muttered and turned your head back to the television.

Wanda walks towards the couch and you shrink further down. “Baby…” she starts, and the shadow of her body casts over the carpet ahead. A hand reaches down and is placed on your forehead, Wanda’s thumb running down the bridge of your nose. Her hand moves down to your chin, and with her thumb and forefinger wrapped around it, she turns your head and makes you look up at her. “Are you sure you don’t know where those cookies went?”

Your lips bunch together as you contemplate telling mommy the truth. Wanda’s eyebrows raise curiously as she looks down at her babygirl.

You finally insist, “Baby don’t know where the cookies are.”

“Baby doesn’t know where the cookies are,” Wanda corrects and nods. You nod in response and puff your cheeks out. She watches as your fingers play with Princess Rainbow’s sparkly horn as you begin to fidget nervously.

Tipping her head to the side, Wanda exhales. She does it in a way that has your attention because she only does so when she’s tired or disappointed. Wanda rounds the couch to sit by your feet. Through the blanket wrapped around your tiny body, she rubs your shin with her palm idly while she watches your cartoon on the television.

“Well, you know, puppy,” she sighs, “when mama’s friends come over for dinner and see that I haven’t made them any dessert, they’re going to be very angry with me. They’ll think I’m a terrible host and a bad friend.”

Heavy waves of guilt come over you and your lips loosen from around your thumb.

“Is mommy a bad friend, baby?” Wanda inquires and looks over to you.

You burst up from your seat on the couch and wrap your arms around her, burying your face in her cheek and hugging her tight as you shut your eyes. “No! Mama is not a bad friend, baby ate mommy’s cookies!” you confess, squeezing her tighter.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Wanda coos and turns to hug you back. “My sweet babygirl. Thank you for being honest with mommy.” She kisses your squished up little face as you continue nuzzling against her. You place Princess Rainbow in mama’s lap for her to cuddle. Mommy hugs your unicorn stuffie with her other arm.

When she pulls away from you and you rub at your eyes with your fisted up hands, Wanda stands from the couch and heads into the kitchen. She returns shortly after with your pink and white pacifier rimmed with the shape of a bear. With one hand cupping your cheek, Wanda lifts your head and pushes your paci’s nipple past your lips. You start sucking immediately.

“There we go. Only good girls get their paci. This will be the last time you lie to me, princess, you must know that mommy loves you no matter what,” Wanda tells you and pulls you in for another hug.

“I love you, mama,” you muffle against her chest, still sucking at your paci.

Wanda lifts you from the couch and tucks your stuffie into your arms. “I love you too. Now, come help mommy make more cookies before dinner.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #1k celebration ♪( ´▽｀)

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lively-potter · 3 months

Text

— moon struck ; jjk ; two

— moon struck ; jjk

— genre ; strangers to friends to lovers/kinda grumpy x sunshine/smut/fluff/angstwithahappyending 🥹

— warnings ; body insecurities ( mentioned ), eating disorder ( in the past but mentioned ), oc deals with a severe amount of anxiety and panic attacks, violence, smut ( later ), FLUFF, love struck jungkookie 🥹

— find me on Wattpad ; @/LivelyPotter

— word count ; 1.4k

— part one

— my masterlist

— 2024 © @LivelyPotter

river's pov; five pm "Bye, Sarah! Bye, Mrs. Goode! See you tomorrow!" I waved, voice a higher pitch due to nervousness.

Moon gurgled happily within my arms as I clutched onto her for comfort, my cheek falling onto her little head as Mrs. Goode and her daughter waved goodbye with matching wide smiles.

Shivers tumbled down my spine when it was only Moon and I inside the room.

I had hoped that by this time the rest of the parents would arrive after Jungkook did. But, as always, Jungkook would be here in time. At exactly five o'clock.

Oddly enough, the rest of the kids' guardians came early to pick them up due to a football game at Ashley Waters High.

It was at this moment I realized that today, the good lord was most definitely not on my side.

With a resigned sigh, I closed the entrance door and walked back towards the playroom to gather Moon's things and pack them back into her diaper bag her dad packed and left with her the days she was here.

Setting Moon to play on the soft carpet with some soft toys, I folded her stained clothes which she had dirtied when playing with her food earlier, wrapped them up in a paper bag, and slid them into the sleek black backpack that had the moon phases on the front below the zipper.

"Gah!" The shrill that left Moon's lips had me jumping when she threw a white fluffy bunny off her lap to grasp the purple one.

I giggled to myself and crawled towards her to hand her the bunny. "Here, little Moon."

She sent a gummy smile up at me before her mind and attention were taken over by the toys in front of her.

Seeing she was now taken care of, I hummed to myself, putting her other toys and snacks inside the bag before zipping it shut.

My shoulders slumped in relief once all of Moon's items were in her bag. I always felt awkward and hesitant to go through another person's bag — permission given or not. It was still awkward for me.

I dusted off my pants and pulled my long hair back into a high ponytail, feeling tiredness creep into my joints. Babysitting energetic kids while surviving on five hours of sleep would exhaust a girl.

Stifling a yawn, I laid on my tummy in front of Moon's little feet and played with her toys for her as she laughed — clapping her teeny hands together.

"A-gan!" She demanded, cutely outstretching the purple bunny.

"Okay," I giggled, feet kicking back and forth in the air. Time passed as I pretended to make the bunnies dance.

I was so involved in making Moon happy that I failed to realize a looming dark shadow swallowing my frame — watching intensely.

That was until Moon looked over my shoulder and screamed shrilly — little tears of joy already pricking her wide doe eyes.

"You girls having fun?" I felt my heart drop out of my bottom at the sound of Jungkook's husky, orotund voice.

I felt that familiar ball lodge itself in my throat as Moon whimpered happily and scrambled up, the little ruffles of her little pink dress shifting around her tiny knees.

"Da! Da!" She shrieked happily, and waddled past my tensed, frozen limbs to cling onto Jungkook's pants.

I forced back a whimper of my own, this one of fear, and slowly turned my eyes to stare at his black Balenciaga combat boots.

Moon tugged at his dark jeans and pouted, sniffles coming from her throat, "Up! Da, Up!" She demanded in her cute voice, wanting to be picked up and cuddled.

I felt his stare pierce through me, and I shivered and shied away. It was like I was naked — and he could see entirely through me.

I didn't like that.

It was an odd, uncomfortable feeling. And I did not like odd and uncomfortable things.

Jungkook's hands came down and grasped Moon's little waist and hoisted her up to cuddle against his robust, toned chest.

I avoided looking in his direction as he mumbled sweetly to Moon — greeting her happily after being away from her the whole day.

I scurried over towards the cubbies and withdrew Moon's diaper bag — knowing he was looking at me.

Panic bubbled up inside me as he drew closer, tugging at the white tank top and white button-down shirt he wore overtop.

I quickly took a glance down at his black studded belt and felt my breath catch.

In the blink of an eye, he was standing right in front of me, Moon happily and quietly resting in his huge tattooed arms.

Keep calm, River. Please don't make a fool of yourself.

For dingleberries sake!

"Thank you for watching over her for me," he spoke softly as if he was afraid to say the wrong thing. "She always has fun here." He chuckled, eliciting a gurgled laugh to leave Moon.

It only made my head sink lower.

He made me feel like a child again. Small, weak, and so submissive.

"No problem!" I squealed dumbly, fumbling with my arms as I wrapped them around myself and met his eyes shyly.

"I...I love spending time with her." I admitted in a low whisper, feeling a tiny ounce of proudness rushing through my veins.

His boba-like eyes gleamed happily when they met mine and his breath seemed to catch in his throat as he willed the eye contact to continue.

The soles of his boots squeaked on the linoleum floor as he shifted his feet.

The sound made my eyes fall to the floor and I jerkily held out the handle of Moon's bag.

I opened my mouth, but no words would leave me. My limbs seemed frozen, and I couldn't move.

His stare stuck me in place and didn't allow movement.

"Thanks," he rumbled and reached forward to grab the bag.

His huge warm tattooed hand brushed against my tiny one, making me gasp and jump back from the contact of his skin sizzling against mine.

My heart rate amped up and raced inside my chest.

Dingleberries! What was that?

I peeked up in time to see Jungkook's jaw rock back and forth as he opened his mouth, before snapping it shut. He licked at the silver hoops through his bottom lip, naturally drawing my eyes to his lips.

I blushed at the otherworldly handsome man in front of me and inched back.

He was scary, but dingleberries — he looked so perfect. Like he jumped out of my fantasies.

"...I better get going." Jungkook broke the silence and stared down at my frame which he dwarfed with his huge muscular build.

Moon had already fallen asleep during our awkward, yet intense encounter.

"Yeah," I whispered back, wrapping my arms around my stomach.

Jungkook let out a grin.

His boba doe eyes watched me and observed my figure before he stepped away and slowly left the room, not forgetting to look over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure I was there.

Where else could I go?

I was still frozen, rooted, and unable to move until he was well away from the daycare center.

***

third pov ; jeon jungkook ; six thirty pm

Jungkook couldn't help the boyish smile that was on his face as he and Moon watched yet another episode of Paw Petrol before Moon's bedtime.

All that was on his mind, at this moment, was River.

She had spoken to him!

She looked like she could have fainted before him, but he talked to her!

Jungkook felt his toes curl in excitement at the future possibilities. He knew she was intimidated by him, most people were, but he hoped in time, that she would look past his domineering aura — apart from the bedroom, that is — until he could show her that he was nothing to be afraid of.

His aunt and mother always told him that he was just a big ass teddy bear on the inside.

His hand tingles at the memory of him purposely brushing his skin against her little tiny hand — and fuck, her skin was so silky soft.

Jungkook nearly growled at the remembrance of her jasmine and laven scent wafting off her little womanly body.

Moon tugged at his shirt, dragging him from his thoughts to show him her favorite part of her show.

"I see, baby." He assured her beautifully adorable daughter, placing a kiss on her little head as she splayed out on his chest.

As he rocked Moon to sleep, Jungkook could only wonder what tomorrow would bring.

Would he finally get to talk to her again?

Or was it just a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? author's note ; ✨ I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I love jungkook, river, and moon sm 💜✨

#wattpad #bts fanfic #dilf jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x oc #moonstruck #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook au #jungkook smut #bts army #jungkook fanfic #moon #jungkook #jeon jungguk #bts jungguk #wattpad fanfiction

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michelleleewise · 1 year

Text

Blue Dhalia

Pairing: Avenger Loki x jotun Female reader

Warnings: self deprecating thoughts, nightmares, angst, self hatred, poor self image, abduction, swearing, mentions of alcohol

Summary: you believe you had made some progress with Loki, as the team comes to you with a plan....

A/n-graphics by @harlequin-hangout. This next part inspired by my dear friend @vbecker10 's story "shadows of the Past." Thank you so so much!!! 💙

Part Five -- Part Six-

Loki lossened his tie, sliding the knot down sighing as the elevator climbed up. He hoped deep down you had already left, off to galavant around the universe with that complete idiot. The less he saw you the better. He had spent too long trying to move on from his past to be reminded of it everyday. Every time your soft skin touched his, the way your dark ruby eyes searched his, the deep blue of your skin reminding him of flowers in spring....he shook his head, trying to clear the images as the elevator dinged.

He walked out, sliding his jacket off freezing seeing your small form, lying curled in a ball by his door, a thin layer of frost on the carpet and wall around you. Furrowing his eyebrows he quietly walked past you, peering into the sitting room seeing no one. Did they leave her here he thought, looking back down at you. He opened his door, tossing his jacket on a chair, coming back out to the hallway he quietly opened your door before leaning down, lifting you into his arms. Your face nuzzling into his neck as he angled you through the door, careful not to wake you.

"Loookkiiii..." you groaned, pressing yourself further into him making him look down at you, your eyes still closed, your long eyelashes brushing gently against your cheek, you were dreaming. "Yes darling, I'm here." He whispered, shifting you in his arms to get you into the bedroom. "D...dont....go...." you sighed, rubbing your cheek against his chest making him smile. "I'm not leaving." He whispered back, walking to the side the bed, slowly lowering you down adjusting your head on the pillow as you rolled to the side hugging it. He walked to the closet, pulling a thin blanket out shaking out before gently laying it over you hearing you hum.

He carefully slid his hand under your pillow, genlty pulling your gloves off, stepping back setting them on the nightstand he looked down at you. "N..no...I don't want to..." you mumbled furrowing your eyebrows. "You don't want to what y/n?" He whispered leaning closer "mmm don't...I can't..." you mumbled again. "What can't you do?" He asked watching you grip the pillow tighter "cant..leave loki..." you sighed, bringing your knees up. Loki stood there staring at you you didn't want to leave him? He thought hearing a soft snor come from you. He reached his hand out, hovering over your head he hesitated before gently pushing your hair back with his finger tips "you can stay y/n, as long as you like." He whispered seeing you smile.

He walked to the door, checking the temperature as he switched the light off, glancing back at you before walking through your living room, stepping into the hallway carefully closing the door, his head jerking up hearing the elevator ding.. "Brother, there your are." Thor said smiling "sshh! Keep it down, y/n is sleeping!" He hissed as Thor stopped in front of him "my apologies, I only wished to ask if you would care to partake with me?" He asked holding up a small flask. "As long as you are quiet." Loki snapped, walking into his room, thor following closing the door behind him.

"Why didn't y/n go with your friends?" Loki asked slipping his tie from his neck "she did not want to, Mantis believes she needs more time to adjust, away from..." Thor trailed off sitting on the couch as Loki took the chair in front of him. Thor took a drink from the flask passing it to Loki "Norns I miss that." Loki sighed taking a large drink. "Tell me brother, I thought you hated our visitor. Would it not be better if she left?" Thor asked as they passed the flask back and forth "I...I do not hate her Thor." Loki said rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Then what is it? Because I knew she likes you, quite alot." Thor said wiggling his eyebrows "don't be a child Thor, she is simply enamored with me, that is all." Loki snapped taking another drink. "Mm..I don't know, you didn't see the way she looked when you left earlier." Thor said smiling.

Thor leaned forward pressing his elbows on his knees "Loki, all I am saying is maybe give her a chance." He said looking at Loki "she is a sweet girl, and you deserve to be happy." He said. "Thor..." loki groaned sitting back "ok, ok...I will stop, just...think about it yeah?" He said sitting back. "I shall...consider what you say." Loki said taking another drink. "Come brother, let's go play that game where you throw those sharp things at the board on the wall." Thor said standing up "it is called darts you oaf, and you know I will best you." Loki smiled standing up "we shall see after a few more drinks." Thor said nudging his side making him groan "lead the way." Loki said following Thor down the hall to the elevator glancing at your door as they walked past, remembering the look on your face as he left earlier, the ding bringing him back to now as he walked in, pushing the button to go down deciding he did have a lot to think about.

You sat at the counter, sipping your tea thinking about the last few days. Since the night you fell asleep in the hall and woke up in your bed Loki had been...softer was the best way you could put it. He talked to you more, granted it still wasn't very often but it was something. Occasionally you would catch him looking at you before he gave you a small smile and looked away. He seemed more patient, less angry. You weren't sure what happened but you didn't care, you loved spending time with him and would gladly accept any he offered.

You set your cup down, a smile spreading across your face remembering the other day as you sat on the couch looking at a book he had leant you when he came over, leaning over the back as his long arm stretched over you, explaining a certain part on the page. His long fingers following the words, his deep voice in your ear making your face heat up feeling his breath on your neck, looking up into his deep emerald eyes seeing him smile. You had never felt like this before, atleast that you could remember, but all you knew is you wanted to spend every minute in his company.

You heard the elevator, bringing you from your daydream as you got up, running to the hall. Loki had left yesterday on a mission and was supposed to be back today or tomorrow at the latest, deflating seeing Thor steeping out smiling. "Ah y/n, glad your awake, I need to speak to you." He said walking down the hall, stepping back seeing another man with him "its ok, this is Steve, do you remember him?" He asked as you looked him up and down "is he the one with the shield, with the star?" You asked seeing Thor nod "yes, he's the leader of the team." He said, clapping the man on the back. "Y/n, listen is there a way I could talk to you for a second?" The man asked as you nodded, leading them to the couch "i..is loki ok?" You asked sitting in the large chair by the window "oh yes, hes quite alright, he should be back tomorrow." Thor smiled sitting down.

"Listen, y/n the reason I wanted to talk to you was we just received Intel that HYDRA is operating a new base near by and we need your help." The man said as you looked down fidgeting with your gloves. "H...how can I help? I was only a prisoner, I don't know anything about them." You said looking between them. "Well see, that's the thing. They're still looking for you." He said looking at Thor "and we were hoping you could lure them out." He said looking back at you. Your heart sped up thinking about what they had done to you "y/n, it would be a simple in and out, and we'll be there to make sure nothing happens." He continued as you looked at Thor "w..will Loki be there?" You asked feeling your anxiety rise "no, we have to do this now and he will not return in time, but I will be there to ensure you are safe my lady." Thor said smiling again.

You looked to the floor, the thought of being trapped there again...the small cage you were kept in...the hunger you felt when you "misbehaved"...the heat..."i...umm...I don't know." You said shakely hearing your voice crack "please y/n, this is our only shot at this." The man asked watching you. "A..and I'll be ok...they won't take me?" You asked digging your fingers in your palm "no, they will not take you." The man said stenrly. "O..ok, I guess.." you trailed off as the man jumped up "Thank you y/n, we leave in 20 minutes, I'll get the jet ready." He said running to the elevator. "Do not worry y/n. Everything will be fine." Thor said standing up. You nodded, standing with him as you both walked to the elevator seeing him push the button.

You walked out where the jet was, seeing the other man in his bright blue uniform, his shield on his back waving you both over. You walked up the ramp, looking around sitting down in the closest seat "ok strap in, we'll be there in just a few minutes." The man said walking to the front as Thor sat down next to you. You looked up at him seeing him smile again "you do that alot." You said seeing him furrow his eyebrows "do what y/n?" He asked "smile...you smile alot." You said hearing him laugh "I guess I do." He said looking forward. "Where we are going there is alot of activity. We are going to have you walk down the street, getting their attention. We are confident one of them will follow you and we will capture them." Thor said, your stomach flipping as the jet took off.

You weren't sure how long you sat there when you felt the jet touch down. "Ok y/n, has Thor gone over the plan?" The man asked walking back to you "yes, he did." You said standing up "any questions." He asked hitting the button for the door "no...I don't think so." You said as you walked down the ramp "I will not be far y/n." Thor said coming up next to you. You took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around your middle you slowly walked towards the center of town, glancing over your shoulder seeing the ramp close. "It's ok y/n, you can do this, put this in your ear so I can hear you." Thor said patting your shoulder handing you a small black device as he walked ahead of you, making it to town before you.

You made it into town, slowly walking down the sidewalk you put the device in your ear hearing thors voice "can you hear me y/n" he asked making you glance around "y..yes, where are you?" You asked walking down the sidewalk "I am across the street, your doing fine just keep going." He said as you looked ahead, seeing a few people staring at you making you shiver. You turned, looking into the window of a shop when you heard a loud boom behind you, looking back seeing a ball of fire and smoke across the street "run y/n..." Thors voice crackled in your ear "it was a trap, get back to the jet!" He yelled as you turned around, ready to run when two large hands grabbed your shoulders

"well well, hello snowflake." The voice sending a shock through you, freezing you in place as you looked up seeing the man in the white coat "I've missed you." He purred griping your arms tighter, looking over your shoulder as you felt a jolt of pain in your neck, your vision blurring as your knees weakened "don't worry snowflake, we'll be home soon....take her." He said as your body went limp, feeling someone lift you up as darkness consumed you.

Thor stormed off the jet, Steve running to catch up "you told me she would be fine, you assured me.." Thor said wrenching the door open stomping down the hall. "I thought she would be!" Steve yelled behind him as Thor hit the button for the elevator. "Yes well, what are we going to do now?" Thor asked stepping inside hitting the button "we will find her Thor, don't worry." Steve said standing next to him. "What if something happens to her?" Thor asked looking at Steve. "It's going to be ok, we will get her back, I swear." Steve said sternly "easy for you to say, you do not have to explain this to Loki." Thor sighed rubbing his temples. He walked out of the elevator heading to his room, he had no idea what he was going to tell Loki and less then a day to figure it out....

@mochie85 @lokisgoodgirl @springdandelixn @kinky-faerie @xorpsbane @midnights-ramblings @simping-for-marvel @holdmytesseract @kkdvkyya @slpnbty2001 @lokixryss @vane28282 @violethaze @coldnique @aniar4wniak @nate-ate-hate @buttercupcookies-blog @brattymum96 @dukes2581 @your-taste-on-my-lips @mybabyh @blog-the-lilly @irishhappiness @sinsandguilt @filthyhiddles @lovebyloki @kikster606 @javagirl328 @misunderstoodself @highkeysimpingforloki @eleniblue @commanding-officer @athalialaufeyson @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokiandbuckysdoll @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @high-functioning-lokipath @kittiowolf210 @slytherclaw1227 @joyfullymassivewhispers @wolfsmom1 @libbybeaz @lokikissesmyforehead @goblingirlsarah @thomase1

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elena-mayfair · 2 years

Text

Through the Nightmare

Paring: Morpheus x f!reader, Sandman x f!reader Warnings: swearing, blood, adult themes, horror images, possible triggers Summary: You are a sorceress and exorcist dreaming nightmares every night and at the end of every and each of them you end up in the Dreaming and you see him. One night after revealing himself to you he showed you his world and asked for your help. Now the time has come to keep the promise that you gave him. Word count:4.5k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors

Part one: Lost in the dream Part two: Back in the dream Part three: Through the Dreaming Part four: In the Waking World Part five: Before the Nightmare

***

"I work alone" these were the last words she said before entering the building. Alone. Morpheus refused to stay in the hotel room, he did not ask her to keep her company, did not argue, just walked with her all the way up to the entry door. Once there, she did not look at him, did not bestow a smile on him, did not utter a word, and neither did he. He just quietly observed her as she used the key and locked the door behind her. He thought to himself that perhaps he should give her some words of assurance, utter simple good luck, or be careful perhaps, after all, humans needed that. That stayed in his thoughts only. It was because of his actions she was here. He put her in this scenario. She was right, he could choose someone else, he could find John Constantine, who served him well in the past, and yet he choose her. Standing under a stone archway near the building she was in, he couldn't help but wonder about his decisions. And yet, he had to know...

"I want to see what she is doing," he spoke to his raven.

"Boss, are these doors stopping you from entering?" Matthew asked sarcastically.

"That was not a request." with that statement Matthew spread his wings and flew up into the sky. Morpheus could see her clearly through his raven's eyes.

Y/N was walking around the apartment with the speed and grace of a wild wolf, the kind that he had seen in the woods ages ago. Her delicate and fluid moves reminded him of woodland nymphs dancing in the moonlight, her sudden gazes and sharp head turns brought memory of a hunter stalking his prey. Even though the light in the apartment was turned off she seemed to see everything with perfect clarity. She moved from one corner to another corner of the apartment and placed protective crystals in each and every one of them. Pyrites, known for their ability to defuse destructive energy. "She knows what she's doing," he thought and observed how she removed the carpet from the floor to make sure that marked sigils are still there. Devils trap, an ancient magical symbol used for trapping demons in place. He had not seen this symbol for centuries. She carefully checked every line twice, making sure that the white paint is intact. With one swift move of her hand she placed the carpet back in its place, it was a small yet so interesting display of magic. She placed salt lines in every doorway and on every window, he had to order Matthew to fly away so she could not notice him. Yet for a moment she stopped and looked outside the window, carefully scouting the night sky and tree line. He decided that she could not see him. She marked the last salt line and retrieved a gun from behind her back. This took him by surprise. She must have hidden it earlier by the waistband of her jeans but he didn't notice. "How could I have missed it," he thought. Y/N unlocked the gun, reloaded it, checked the chamber, then tucked the weapon again behind her back. Lastly, she reached her hand into her neckline under her blouse and pulled out a necklace on top. He ordered Matthew to fly closer and saw that in her hand she held an amulet, a pentacle, and an amethyst, joined together. She squeezed the amulet tighter in her hand before letting it fall slowly back on her neck. She was ready. She backed away into the shadows and took a waiting position. Like a wolf crouched in the shadows waiting for its prey. In the darkness of the room, the only bright spots were the silver necklace on top of her black blouse and her shining eyes.

"Boss? You want me to get closer?" he heard Matthew's voice even though the raven was far away from him.

"No," he replied without saying any words out loud. With a corner of his eyes, he noticed the couple entering the building. The man looked proud, and the woman looked frightened. "Stay where you are," he added.

As the boss ordered so Matthew did. Not a long moment passed when the sound of the door lock opening made Y/N's eyes narrow and her position changed, ready to attack. She slowly pulled her gun from behind her belt and huddled in the shadows, waiting.

"The night was lovely," the woman, Christen, said with forced politeness. It always amazed Morpheus how easily humans lied to each other, how effortlessly they played their roles against their will.

"I want a drink," was the only thing the man said. All three Matthew, Morpheus, and Y/N saw him directing himself in the opposite direction from the one she was in. It was a waiting game. In the room she was in it was still dark. Purposely she selected the living room, based on Christen's letter mister Jackson, or at least the demon in him, played the role of career man. And what else career man can do after returning home other than drinking some fancy alcohol in his fancy chair while watching the news and making plans for the growth and expansion of his fancy business? So she waited.

"I'll get you one," Christen said "You go and relax hun" nervous blab came out.

Morpheus saw Y/N move herself up quietly, he knew it was a bad move from Christen's side, and so did she.

"Hun?" The demon stopped in mid-step "Hun? Are you fucking joking right now?"

"I don't know what you mean," Christen tried to shrug it off.

"Hun?" the demon laughed and what came out of his mouth made Christen shrink down a bit, "What did you do?" he growled

"I didn't do anything!" she defended herself "I just wanted to be nice!"

"To be nice?!" he took few steps towards her and grabbed her by the throat, he pulled her up in the way that she could no longer touch the ground with her feet and brought her crying face to him "And since when exactly you are nice you stupid useless blood bag?"

Morpheus saw Y/N securing her fingers on the gun while at the same time with her other hand reaching out for the knife. The waiting game was over, he knew that she didn't want to risk a woman's life, she rather risks her own. At the same moment when Morpheus ordered his raven to knock on the window to get the demons' attention Y/N jumped out of the shadows and threw her knife at the demon's back. She was no longer a wolf, she was a viper, attacking his oblivious prey.

"Hey! Fuckface! Leave her alone!" she taunted. She stood in the living room doorway, luring the demon in. The creature slowly released his hold on Christen's throat and turned itself toward her. He reached out and pulled the knife out of his shoulder.

"And who the fuck are you," his eyes burned red.

"I am Karma you ugly son of a bitch," she grinned at him.

Morpheus was observing it all with admiration and curiosity. To him she was so fearless at that moment, willingly putting her life in danger in order to save an innocent woman. At that moment, he realized that for her it wasn't because she had made a promise to help him, but because she had made a promise to herself to help this woman.

"Come on you ugly fuck, let's dance!" she taunted him even more.

And so it did. Upon seeing the carvings on the knife, the demon dashed toward her. Its speed was too great for a mortal, its agility too formidable for her to resist. But she did resist. She danced and whirled around him like the demon itself dodging his attacks and blows. Every time he tried to grab her she dodged, every time he tried to strike her with a knife she evaded him. She tried to draw him into the trap she had set. Not to kill, not to exorcise, she had to trap him. So she danced around him like a she-wolf dancing around her lured prey for several long minutes. Morpheus knew that for a mortal, a few seconds of such a dance with a demon seemed like an eternity. He saw Y/N weaken. The demon swung and cut her arm with her own knife.

She hissed at him and rolled backwards. She wanted him to follow her, and he did so right into the trap. Pretending to be defeated huddled on the ground she viciously waited for his final attack but it did not come. The demon raised his knife hand upward, took a swing but his hand hung in the air. Confusion painted itself on his face when he saw Y/N peering at him with a devious smile and satisfaction in her eyes. It was only at that moment that he noticed her outstretched hand and spread palm facing him. She smiled venomously and pushed him backwards with her power, straight into the trap she had set.

"Witch," the demon gritted through his teeth.

"You know, I really do not like this word," she rose to a standing position and pointed her gun at him, "It has a bad ring to it, "she sassed and fired her gun.

The demon only laughed at her with hoarse growl.

"Gun?! Really?!" he taunted "I'm a demon you stupid bitch! Gun can't hurt me!!"

Morpheus watched as Y/N's took several steps toward the demon. Her movements smooth and confident, there was not a trace of fear in them. A sinister smile adorned her face, betraying that she knew something the demon did not. Her eyes narrowed, satiated, she had him exactly where she wanted him. She approached him at arm's length and looked at him menacingly.

"I know," she said quietly, "But it can trap your sorry ass." with a smooth motion of her hand, she pulled the rug out from under his feet with power, knocking him over in the process. The devil's trap was revealed. The demon growled at her dangerously. "Oh stop with the growls, they are ridiculous!" she laughed at him "This is how it's going to be," she crouched down and stretched her open hand in front of her, making her knife obediently fly to her, "As you see, devil's trap," she twirled the knife in her fingers, "that bullet in you, enchanted, so if you were thinking about leaving this body, don't bother" she grinned at him.

"You killed this body," he said, the tone of his voice becoming more cautious.

"Do I really look I care?" she raised her eyebrow.

Morpheus was observing all this through his raven eyes in amazement. Eons of existence had made him stop noticing the complexity of mortal creatures, the delicacy of their existence, the strength of their being. He stopped noticing the beauty of mortal life. He watched Y/N with bewilderment, so merciless and yet so kind, so gentle and carefree and yet so threatening, her life could have fled at any moment but at that moment, at that moment he knew Y/N felt more alive than ever.

"What is the point of all of it," Demon asked "Just exorcise me and let's be done with it."

"Oh, wouldn't you want that," she made a dismissive gesture with her knife "I've got some questions for you."

"Do you now?" he growled.

"There is a rumor on the street that one of you sons of bitches has something that belongs to one of the Endless," she started "I want to know which one."

"Oh come on Witch!" he emphasized the last word "You do not actually expect that I'm going to tell you anything!"

Y/N extended her hand in front of her and turned her wrist slightly. The demon immediately fell to the floor and recoiled in pain catching his guts.

"Actually, I do!" she smirked at him and stepped closer positioning herself right at the edge of the circle of devil traps, "Dreams helm, who has it!" she said with a commanding voice.

"Don't know what you're talking about!!" the demon knelt down and shrieked in pain.

Morpheus watched her display of power with fascination. She only grinned wider and twisted her wrist a little more. The demon wailed in pain and the infernal sounds echoed throughout the room.

"Morpheus. Helm," she demanded, "Name."

"Never heard of it..." the demon started but before he could finish Y/N stretched her other hand in front of her causing the demon's body to convulse.

"Name," she demanded.

"This is not how we do things, your kind, and mine, " he choked out, "I possess and you sent me back to hell."

"Oh I'm changing the rules, " she smugged "You going to give me the name and I will kill you."

"You cannot kill me," he reeled in pain.

"You wanna bet?" she grinned and twisted both of her hands slightly.

"Stop!!!" the demon wailed pleadingly "Fine! Fine! I'll tell you! Just send me back to hell already!"

"Go on,"

"It's Etrigan! He's got Dreams helm!"

She twisted her hands making his body twitch again. The drool rolled out of the demon's human mouth, blood began to flow from his eyes and mouth but she did not stop pressing. Morpheus calmly observed her mercilessness, watched her power, the power he hadn't seen in millennia. The power that should have ceased to exist long ago.

"I've...told...you...," he was choking on blood.

"You lied. I hate liars." she replied calmly "I know Etrigan, I know you are lying. Tell me who has Morpheus's helm!"

"So you could run back to him and tell him?" the demon suddenly rose his bloody eyes at her and smiled horribly "Tell me, Witch, what did he promise you that made you do his bidding?"

A shadow of surprise flashed across Y/N's face upon hearing the demon's words. Her pressure on his mangled body eased enough for the demon to rise to his knees and look at her with his deformed bloody face.

"You from all people should know that dreams do not come true," he laughed mockingly and followed with his eyes to the window, "Dreams' puppet on the strings. He already knows who you are, bitch."

Seeing this, Morpheus ordered his raven to retreat immediately but it was too late. Through the raven's eyes, her gaze met his. A mixture of rage and disappointment stirred in her eyes. Before he had time to retreat Y/N's smirked and with a smooth movement of her hand created a wall of blackness dividing him from her, blocking his view.

"I am no one's puppet" she gritted through her teeth and pressed the demon to the floor with all her power. Its body opened with a thousand wounds, blood began to ooze onto the floor in continuous streams, while the demon inside the human body began to burn. As if in the distance she heard the woman's terrified screams but she ignored them. All her power was focused on the demon and only it. Furious, betrayed, she vented all her anger, all the frustration she had been bottling inside her for months on the bleeding human body and its demonic parasite.

"It's Choronzon..." the demon grunted out and blood splattered from his mouth "His name is Choronzon..."

"See, that is what I call cooperation," she smirked and amplified her power on the demon tearing its form from the inside piece by piece.

"You have to send me back to hell..." she heard but a sound coming out of the hole where there used to be a mouth. "You...can't...kill me...Lucifer...you can't..."

"Watch me," she smirked and abruptly spread her outstretched arms in front of her. The demon rose several feet above the ground...

"Y/N Stop!" she heard a distant commanding voice. Morpheus stood in the doorway of the room, his eyes focused on her. Her power enthralled him, almost with the same force with which her unbridled anger saddened him. "I command you to stop!"

"Listen to your boss witch," she focused on the growly noise in front of her. These were the last sounds that he made. She twisted her spread arms and ripped him into pieces. The human body exploded splitting the blood all over her, the demon vanished.

Morpheus watched her bloodied tired figure breathing deeply, with calmness, as if something horrible had just escaped her body. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. Anger and disappointment gave way to satisfaction and amusement. She smiled warmly at him.

"See?" she smirked, "I told you that I will get you his name" she took two steps towards him but her knees collapsed beneath her. She was exhausted. She has kept her promise...

***

You really wanted to keep your posture but you had to admit to yourself, that you exhausted your body more than ever before. You took two steps toward Morpheus and you felt your knees bending under your own weight. "Fuck!" you swore in your thoughts attempting to stand straight but your legs refused to obey you. The feeling of relief came out of nowhere, just a swift gentle wind around you and suddenly you could stand up straight again. You felt Morpheus's solid yet delicate hand on your lower back, while his other placed your arm over his shoulder. That brought chills down to your spine and somehow terrified you more than the demon you just killed. His eyes were staring at you relentlessly with a mix of care, sorrow, and something else, something that you could not name. His marble face was so close to yours, that you could feel his breath calming your skin, bringing the scent of an endless green field and mountain breeze when suddenly you realized...

"I have demon blood on my face, have I?" you asked shyly. He only smiled slightly with his barely visible smile. "Oh god," you buried your bloody face in his shoulder embarrassed, "Oh god!" you gasped upon seeing bloody stains on his perfectly black coat.

"Don't worry about it," he said quietly, "You killed him..." he looked at the remaining parts of the host body.

"Yup!" you were proud of yourself "and I got you the name! Cha...Cho..." you struggled "Charizard!"

"Choronzon," he corrected you.

"That!"

"You should not have done that," he stated quietly.

"What the fuck you mean I shouldn't do that!" you frowned "he was a demon, and now there is no demon! One point for me, zero for Hell!"

"We should go," he stated again. You were starting to hate his commanding tone. He gently tried to direct your useless body towards the door.

"Wait..." you placed your hand on his chest not thinking about it twice, "I need a moment." you tried to stand on your own feet. Morpheus reluctantly moved his hand off your back making sure with his eyes that you would not fall. "I'm good," you tapped his chest gently, "I'm good..." you added more to yourself than to him.

You slowly approached Christen who was limping against the wall in terror. You extended your hand to her and her gaze followed looking first at your hand, then at your bloody smiling face. Christen grasped your hand and allowed you to help her stand on her own two feet.

"I'm sorry for what you had to witness," you started "I will admit that I used your case for my own gain. I needed that information," you explained, and upon seeing her nodding slightly you continued "You will be safe from now on. I find no word in me to express how sorry I am for the horror that you had to live through. But it is over now. You and your son will be safe. You survived the years of terror with him, you will survive this. You are a strong woman Christen. You will be alright," you held her hands in yours and spoke with a calm assuring voice.

"But how," she uttered with a shaking voice, "How do I move forward?"

"It's simple," you smiled genuinely, "You just have to believe that dreams, real dreams, do come true." you released your hands and looked back at the Dream with a smile on your face "We can go now."

He approached you and placed his hand back on your lower back but instead of directing you towards the door he reached down to his pocket and took out the pouch of sand.

"Dream I don't..." you stared but the way he looked at you made you stop mid sentence.

"Your body has been through enough today," he said calmly.

You saw him reach into the pouch and pull out a handful of sand. He let the golden grains sift through his fingers. To you, it looked like he let himself feel each and every one of them. He waved his wrist gently and the golden spirals wrapped around you, surrounding you with dancing sand on all sides. As it danced, whirled, twisted, enveloping you in golden dust, it transported you back to your hotel room in the blink of an eye.

"Magical..." you whispered. You wanted to move but you realized that his hand was still placed firmly on your back, "I've got your perfect coat all stained with blood," you tried to defuse the tension.

"You're hurt," he replied ignoring your previous statement.

"It's not mine," you looked down at yourself and noticed that you are covered in blood. You thanked yourself for taking spare clothes with you. You looked up at Morpheus standing still just an inch from you, "Did anyone ever told you that you have severe trust issues?" you smirked.

He only looked down on your slashed arm and back at you.

"I've had worst," you said, "trust me." you released yourself from his hold and moved to your bag for a first aid kit and spare clothes. You desperately needed a shower. "What now? We've got a demon name, what's our next step?" you asked.

"I'm going to Hell to retrieve my helm," he answered with as much ease as if he had said it would rain tomorrow.

"What?!" you gasped, "What do you mean, you going to Hell?! Like physically going to Hell, as in...as to Hell?!"

"My sand can take me there," he explained calmly.

"Hold on!" you dropped your first aid kit and your clothes onto the bed and walked towards him, "Here me out! You do not have to go to Hell!" he looked at you with curiosity and rose his eyebrow, "I know, I know, trust is not your strong suite and believe me we will talk about this, but if you would, if you could trust me again," you continued, "I could bring the demon to you!" you offered.

"You displayed remarkable power today," he noticed.

"Great!" you clapped your hands satisfied that he agreed even though he did not, "Summoning a demon is much easier than going to Hell and finding it don't you agree?" you smiled brightly, but when he did not reply you simply stated, "We gonna do some summoning and you will have your helm in no time! And now, forgive me my Lord, but I desperately need a shower."

***

~~Week later~~

You thought that you saw weird and unexplainable things in your lifetime, after all just a week ago you shredded a demon out of existence, but seeing Morpheus, the anthropomorphic personification of a Dream itself, sitting on your couch, in your apartment, causally sipping a tea from your favorite cup was the weirdest thing of them all. Somehow you convinced him that summoning a demon is better than going the Hell, and made him agree to your plan. Now, he was relaxing on your couch while you were peppering yourself and your surrounding for the summoning ritual. "Causal Sunday afternoon," you thought to yourself, "Litteral personification of a Dream and Witch preparing for summoning the demon."

"You're smiling," he noted. He seemed so relaxed in your presence, so humane, so normal, that for a moment you forgot who he really was.

"Nothing, it's just funny you know?"

"What is?"

"This!" you pointed out on the devils' trap, candles, herbs, everything around you, "You, me! This! It's kinda funny you know," you smiled.

"You do not seem to be uncomfortable," his lips twitched slightly.

"Neither do you," you smirked, "Alright! I'm done! Come here" you order him. He placed a teacup on the table and stepped closer, placing himself next to you, "Take my hand," you ordered but upon seeing his gaze you explained, "I know the demon's name, you know your helm which I have never seen. Combine these two, we have a stronger spell," he took your hand and locked it in his. "Now just relax, breath, and focus on your helm," you instructed and started an incantation.

Ad ligandum eos pariter eos coram me! Et ad congregandum eos coram me! Ad ligandum eos pariter eos coram me! Et ad congregandum eos coram me! Ad ligandum eos pariter eos coram me! Et ad congregandum eos coram me!

You were expecting the candlelight to go off, herbs to burn down and demon to show up inside the devil's trap. Instead, you felt the ground shaking underneath your feet, tipping over the teacup, throwing your books off the shelves. You closed your eyes, squeezed Morpheus's hand, and focused all your power on the spell.

"Come here you stupid fuck!" you swore.

"But I am here..." you heard a gentle kind voice in your head. You quickly released Morpheus's hand and opened your eyes.

The ground shaking stopped, the spell was broken, and what you saw before you made the blood freeze in your veins. A picture of utter devastation and destruction unfolded before your eyes. The sky above your head was black and thick with smoke and the ground beneath your feet was scorched, dead. Before your eyes stretched a wall made of human bodies, deformed beyond recognition. In the middle of the wall was a narrow passage, a gate, surrounded by fire on both sides.

"I don't think we are in Kansas anymore," you gasped.

"No," Morpheus took two steps forward and positioned himself in front of you, hiding you behind his back, protecting you, "We are in Hell."

~~***~~

Authors note: Part six is done! Oh my lord, I had so much fun writing this chapter! Switching POVs, adding long awaited, at least by me, bloody horror element. It was awesome to write this! And now...what will happen now since we are not in Kansas anymore :) I hope you will like this chapter as much as I do :) I want to take a moment to thank you all again for all of your comments, likes, reblogs, and messages. You guys are truly amazing! You really have no idea how much this story, and all that happened after I published the first part, how much all this means to me. All I can do, as an expression of my gratitude, is deliver the best chapters I can possibly write. Sadly, I must inform you, that from now on I won't be able to publish as much as I did during this week. I had some time off work and I've been able to write every day. But sadly vacation is over, real life is calling, and I have to go back to work. Since I will have much less of free time I won't be able to publish daily. But I think I can do two chapters per week :) I really really want to continue this story with my renewed drive for writing. At last, as always, Dear Reader, thank you for reading :)

~~***~~

Tag list: @mycrazyfandom @unavoidabledirewolf @calicoevening72 @mata0-0mata @uzumaki-mj @thegreatestsandwich @parabatai-winchester @munsonmunster @consistentreader578 @jupiterclipse @fangirlmary @clown-princesa @witchxlove @galaxypox @dilfsandtherapy @hjalmarofrivia

Part seven: Through Hell

#morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman #Morpheus imagines #the sandman imagine #Morpheus x you #Morpheus fanfiction #Morpheus fic

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panda-writes-kpop · 5 months

Text

my friends aren’t far, in the back of my car, lay their bodies

A/N: guess who finally got the inspiration to start editing instead of just writing every idea that comes into their head!! so so so excited to see everyone's reaction to this since I enjoyed writing the original (bloodsucker, famefucker) so much 🫶 song title taken from Billie Eilish's bellyache and other inspiration is drawn from bury a friend by Billie Eilish! Now, I will go back into my little cubby hole and attempt to edit more fics without creating more WIPs (self-control is non-existent in this household 😌)

TW: Heavy gore, lots of blood, main character death, magic that functions as I wish, hallucinations(?)

Word Count ~ 4.7k

( <- Previous Part | Next Part -> | Series Masterlist)

Summary: Strange visions haunt you as you're forced to confront your reality - your close friend is dead, your other friends are in serious danger, and there's some weird secret that everyone's keeping from you.

♡ Masterlist ♡

The wind blows through your hair and clothes as you wait for a train back home. You had been staying with some family for the semester, and it was finally time to return back home to your beloved bedroom. You missed the peeling paint in the living room and the smell of chlorine from the neighbor’s pool.

You wince as the smell infiltrates your nostrils. Okay, maybe chlorine wasn’t the best nostalgic scent, but it was a part of your childhood.

“Are you waiting for a train?” Chou Tzuyu, the pretty elven girl-next-door, stands next to you.

“I am… but your train?” Curiously, you tilt your head at her.

Her train home is the opposite way?

“I’m not going home, not anymore.”

Although the physical train is nowhere to be seen, a mental train runs through your mind as the events of the past few hours hits you.

The party. The blood. SuA’s fangs. Purple magic?

“What happened to you?” You grab her hand and squeeze it tightly.

Her hands were cold, as if every bit of warm had left her body.

“I…” She pauses with a confused look on her face. “I don’t remember. I was in my dorm room, and then I remembered that I had a train to catch.”

“You don’t go home, except for breaks,” You gasp as you immediately let go of your hand, “don’t tell me that you’re-“

“I’m what?”

She turns to look at you, and you have to bite your lip to hold in the scream. Tzuyu stands in front of you, but it’s as if every bit of life has left her skin, eyes, and hair. Her voice is the only thing that resembles her, the rest is utterly foreign to you.

The bleakness in her eyes terrifies you the most. Focus and determination were usually nested in her eyes, but the lack of any emotion was horrifying. The coldness in her mannerisms, the lack of anything remotely human… what had happened to Chou Tzuyu?

Well, it ended in death, whatever it was.

“Tzuyu!”

You sit upright on the sofa, and your sudden movement causes you, as gracefully as possible, to face plant on the floor. You prefer the taste of coffee or tea over wool carpet, but anything was better than what you were just dreaming about. After removing your mouth from the carpet, you roll over and burn your eyes when they focus on the LED lightbulb installed in the light fixture.

After you blink away the light and spit out the taste of carpet from your mouth, the shadow of someone standing over you disrupts the light beams from continually hitting your face.

“You look like shit.”

Although she’s covered in darkness, you can see the shit-eating grin from a mile away.

“I feel like shit, and I had a shitty dream too.” You rub your head before sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Ten in the morning-“

“Oh shit-“

“-on November 1st.”

“Oh shit!” You immediately come to your feet as a wave of dizziness comes over you.

Handong grabs your arm before you can go back to the ground.

“Easy there, you lost a lot of blood.”

“Thanks,” You mumble as you both walk to the couch, “can you tell me what I’ve missed? I’m assuming it’s quite a bit, since you mentioned that SuA-“

“-Yeah, I’ve got some things to explain., but I need you to fill in the gaps.”

You sigh before shaking your head.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Did you hear that scream? I think someone next door had too much to drink-“

Gahyeon’s shrieks wake the house before she can finish her musings.

Menacingly, SuA stands over your body with a lovesick look on her face. Gahyeon had seen that look before when the two of you were dating, but this was different.

There was sharp malice like a thousand daggers reflected in her eyes, and her gaze was forever stuck on your form as she leaned down and tried to take another bite out of you.

Before she knew it, Gahyeon’s claws were digging into SuA’s neck with no mercy. Gahyeon usually had control over turning into her fox form, but after seeing you bloodied, bruised, and near death, there was no more self control.

She didn’t stop scratching or clawing at the flesh until SuA’s screams were silenced, and even then, a few more were needed to make sure that she’d never hurt you again.

By the time Handong had came into the kitchen, only a few moments later, SuA was mauled beyond recognition, and Gahyeon was nudging you softly with her snout.

A soft whine comes from the animal as Handong gags at the site in front of her.

“Gahyeon? I heard you and-“ Yoohyeon gasps as she stops right behind Handong, “oh shit!”

“Gahyeon?” Your voice, soft, and your eyes, full of disbelief, stare at Handong.

You want to believe that you were the one to kill her, that everything had been your fault, after all… but it wasn’t that way. You’d dragged your friends into this, and now they were paying the ultimate price.

Everything was your fault, but you weren’t paying any of the price.

Poetic as shit.

“What about Minji and Siyeon?” You trail off before shaking your head.

“I’m not sure, but I’m just glad you’re safe.” Her hand rests on your arm as you sigh.

“I think I can put Minji and Siyeon aside for a moment. I need to support my friends. Where is everyone else?”

Handong gives you an unsteady look as your eyes narrow.

“Where are they, Dongie?”

“Yoohyeon went out looking for Minji, if that’s what you’re asking.” She quickly stands up from the couch and her strong grip takes you along with her. “She refused to get involved with anyone else until Minji was accounted for. It’s sweet to see how they still care for each other.”

You stare at her, dumbfounded, as you’re dragged into the kitchen. A shive rides along your spine as memories of SuA’s murderous attempt.

A bloody smile. A wooden spoon. A red fox?

You briefly recall a fox coming to comfort you in between the attack and the binding, but you can’t remember why you blocked this out earlier.

Was I in denial?

“Gahyeon and Dami.” You force your arm from her grasp as Handong bites her lip and leans against the counter.

“They’re being detained and tried by the school council tomorrow with the possibility of expulsion and real legal implications.”

Your head snaps to Handong as you quickly close the distance between the two of you.

“Huh?”

“I didn’t want to tell you because you’d-“ She pauses as you run off to find your phone, “overreact, as I expected.”

Handong grabs your coat as you quickly dial a phone number you haven’t texted in months.

“You’re not going to stop me?” You tilt your head at her as the phone rings in your hand.

You quietly thank her for the coat as you do an awkward one-hand dance to get it on while holding the phone.

“I’ve learned better. Where are we going?”

With a click, the phone connects.

“Clove, what’s up? I’m busy at the moment-“

“Ryujin, I know you’re at the hospital with Siyeon. Text me the address and I’ll be there in thirty.”

“You could start with hello, you know,” Ryujin chides you over the phone before scoffing, “How will you get here so fast? You don’t have a car-“

“Every hospital in this city is within a 10 minute bus or train ride from campus. I’ll see you when we get there, Jinnie.”

“Don’t call me that, Clove-“

You hang up on Ryujin before she can yell at you as a soft smile spreads across Handong’s face.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were siblings.”

“Everyone did,” You slide your phone in your coat pocket before heading for the front door, “that’s why we were best friends growing up.”

“What’s the plan here?”

“I’m going to try to piece together what fucking happened, and then I’m going to acquit my friends before they have to defend themselves in front of the council.” You explain as you slam the door open. “You coming or not?”

“For the record, this was a stupid idea,” She grumbles, “but I made a promise to someone that I’d keep watch over you.”

“Gahyeon?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as Handong chuckles to herself.

“God, you are as oblivious as Tzuyu said.”

Your heart drops to a pit in your stomach at the mention of her name, but you gracefully show her a smile as you nod and close the door behind Handong.

Tzuyu, what happened to you? What happened to everyone?

“It’s a four-leaf clover!”

You hold the plant you happily plucked out of the ground about three inches from Ryujin’s face, who immediately recoils and coughs aggressively.

“Watch it!” Her eyes soften once she sees your fascination with the clover. “You love those things, but they’re everywhere. What makes them so special?”

“I… don’t know. I just think they’re neat, Jinnie.” You shrug before holding the clover close to your chest.

“Okay, if you’re going to continue to call me that, then I’ve got to find something to call you as revenge.” Sparks fly in her eyes as she silently brainstorms.

“Pabo isn’t a nice nickname.” You tease as her mouth hangs open in surprise.

“How did you know I’d pick that one?”

“Just a guess.” Your gaze turns to the clover, but Ryujin’s gaze focuses on you and the clover.

“I’ll find something for you, don’t doubt it!”

After a small mix-up with the receptionist, you find yourself walking down the hospital hallway. Handong quietly walks in your shadow, and you find yourself missing the companionship of your other friends.

You did enjoy being around Handong, but sometimes, you felt as if she would’ve fit in better with Minji, SuA, and Siyeon. Dongie would graduate a year before you, Dami, and Yoohyeon would, and it made you wonder why she chose you. Was she really here for you, or was it out of moral obligation?

“Minji and Siyeon chose their sides, as we chose ours,” Handong reassures you while holding on to Gahyeon, “and I don’t miss the drama, the fights, and the black-out parties.”

Was that the truth, or was there more she didn’t say? Like Dami, her words didn’t fully express her opinions. You didn’t miss the soft sighs or sad looks whenever anything about the other three girls was brought up - she missed everyone being together more than she let on. Under the guise of sarcasm and self-defense, Handong was vulnerable, just like the rest of you. You wanted her to feel comfortable with you, for her to put down her walls with you, but the two of you hadn’t had a deep conversation until that fateful night.

Remorse was the only word that could describe Handong at the moment, and you felt bad for dragging her along. She was here out of moral obligation, once again, to one of your mutual friends.

You wouldn’t blame Handong if she never wanted to see you again after this mess was over, or if everyone else in your friend group did the same.

“The door’s on your left.” Handong calls out as you come to a halt in front of the door.

You pause as your hand rests on the door. You were, in every sense of the word, opening Pandora’s box. Siyeon might cuss you out, try to kill you, or never talk to you again.

In any case, you had to find out something, even if it was confirming how much she hated your guts.

“I’ll be outside.” Dongie crosses her arms and leans on the left side of the doorframe as your eyebrows furrow.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m going to try and contact Yoohyeon, see if she’s found anything.”

“Sounds good,” You push the door open, slightly, before closing it again, “Dongie?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me you’ll put yourself first after this mess is over.”

“I am, trust me.” Her eyes scream honesty, but you can sense a bit of unsureness in her voice.

You don’t want to push her anymore, but you hope you’ve planted a seed of an idea in her head. With a small nod, you take a deep breath and open the door, expecting the worse.

“Hey,” Siyeon, from the hospital bed, softly calls out to you, “Your neck-“

“You look like shit-“ Ryujin stops pacing by the window and gives you a small glance before continuing to pace.

“Funnily enough, you’re the second person to tell me that-“

“Did SuA actually make it to you?” Tears threaten to fall from Siyeon’s eyes as you find yourself taking a nearby chair and pulling it by Siyeon’s bed.

“She did, but I survived.”

Once you take a seat, Siyeon attempts to stand up, but the cast on her left leg keeps her bound to the bed. Her leg is hung above the bed by a small contraption held by two metal wires attached to a device on the ceiling.

Although you’re sure you don’t look much better, Siyeon looks like she’s been run through the washer and then thrown down a mountainside before being dunked underwater ten different times. Her messy, short blue hair clings to her forehead with a sheen of sweat that hasn’t been cleaned up yet.

“Siyeon, I’m afraid this isn’t a friendly call-“

“-I know, I’m the last person you probably want to see at the moment.” She bashfully looks away as Ryujin carefully eyes the two of you.

“That’s the last thing on my mind, I promise you,” You hold out your hand to her as an olive branch, and she quietly takes it after a moment of contemplation, “I just want to know what happened between you and SuA.”

“It started because of a phone call. I walked into our dorm, after finishing my last class of the day, when I heard her talking to one of her vampire friends. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, she’s usually on her phone when she’s not doing homework, sleeping, at class, or at a party, but she was talking about you.”

“What’d she say?”

“Clove, she wanted to turn you.” Ryujin stops moving as her icy glare pierces your skin.

“Turn me? Was this for revenge, or because…” You pause as you try to connect the dots with your own experience.

As your mouth opens, SuA makes a quick maneuver towards you and pins you to the nearest wall.

“You know,” She gasps for air as she eyes your neck, “we could’ve done this the easy way while you were sleeping.”

“It wasn’t revenge or to make you miserable,” Siyeon explains, “she wanted you two to be bonded together, body and soul. You were to be a vampire spawn, utterly dependent on her for food and everything else.”

“What the fuck!” Your head spins with the revelation as Ryujin comes to your side.

“Breathe. I know this is shocking news.”

“You think?” Your head snaps in her direction as she takes your other hand in hers.

“We can take a minute, I can grab you something to drink-“

“-No, this isn’t about me.” You push your personal feelings aside, just for a moment, as you continue to press Siyeon. “What happened next?”

“I tried to be the voice of reason and tell her that it was a horrible idea, but Minji was so much better at those sorts of things. Without her there, things got heated… and physical. I didn’t realize how loud we were, chasing each other around and throwing things, but it all came to a head when an elven girl came to the room.”

“Was she tall, had brown hair, and was a classic, elven sort of pretty?”

“Yeah, that’s who it was. A freshman, I think? Must’ve been the same age of Gahyeon…” SIyeon muses to herself as your mind races with the realization that your dream was a reality.

Chou Tzuyu was murdered.

“SuA was so heated, she wasn’t thinking straight, and I realized later that she hadn’t touched any of her pre-packaged blood in the fridge. The bloodlust, combined with her anger, must’ve caused her to lose control and I-“ Siyeon starts to cry as you squeeze your hand, “I tried to pull her away, but SuA threw me across the room. My leg took the brunt of the hit, and I couldn’t move because I thought I was concussed. I had to watch- I had never seen SuA like that.”

“Did Minji come back? Who brought you here?”

“Minji won’t reply to my calls, and campus police have put out a missing person report. If she’s not found in another 24 hours, the report’s going out to the media and city police.” Ryujin hands you her water bottle, and you take a quick swig of it. “I had tried calling Siyeon for hours and I couldn’t get a hold of her, so I stopped by her dorm and found the girl, dead, along with Siyeon.”

“Her name was Tzuyu.” You softly say as your tears freely flow along with Siyeon’s. “She was bright, strong, beautiful, kind-“

“God, you’ve had a rough forty-eight hours, huh?” Ryujin sits on the edge of the arm rest of your chair as she leans in to give you a side hug. “I’m here for you, always.”

“I’m here for you too, you know,” Siyeon sniffles as she looks at the two of you, “werewolves are loyal creatures to those they care about.”

“You still care about me?”

“I never stopped.”

Siyeon quickly embraces you as you break down sobbing in her arms. Ryujin softly pats your back for a minute, but Siyeon manages to pull her into the hug as well.

“Will we be okay?” You ask against the fabric of Siyeon’s hospital gown.

“We’ll figure out a new normal, I promise. I think we all have some things to discuss once this mess blows over.”

Your sweet moment is interrupted by flickering lights and a shrill scream in a nearby hallway. Ryujin bares her teeth and rushes into the hallway as you try to comfort Siyeon.

“You’re going to be okay, Ryujin is one of the strongest werewolves I know.”

“I know, that’s why she’s the campus pack leader despite not being a senior member,” Siyeon pauses to wipe her tears before brushing her hand against your face, “how did you two meet?”

Silence overtakes the area as a low growl can be heard in the distance. The sound of a body crashing against the door causes you to pull Siyeon further into you as she mumbles in a mixture of mental and physical pain.

The lights completely shut off, and you’re left in darkness as Siyeon’s heavy breaths tickle your neck.

“We were childhood best friends,” You softly mumble as you hear loud footsteps approach the door, “and she gave me the nickname ‘Clove’ after I fell face-first into a field of clovers.”

Siyeon snorts as a single knock against the door rings out against the silence.

Bang!

“Was it her fault?”

Bang! Bang!

Two knocks against the door, louder this time, cause Siyeon to wince. You find a sense of odd calmness in this all, as if death does not and cannot phase you anymore.

“Absolutely. That little fucker tied my shoelaces together before I could do anything.”

You can’t see her face in the darkness, but her laughter reassures you that you’re doing your best to keep her focused away from whatever is going on outside of the door.

The lights turn on suddenly, and you blink away the light after letting go of Siyeon. She calls out to you, but her words are interrupted when the door opens and two figures stumble in behind you.

You immediately turn around and gasp when you recognize the two faces, but they’re not the same people you were talking to before.

“The door was jammed!” Yoohyeon raggedly breathes in before collapsing onto a nearby hospital chair.

Her hair is an absolutely mess, sticking out in every direction as if she took part in a failed science experiment, and her clothes are covered in cuts and leaves. You can tell she’s got one hell of a story to tell, but you’re more interested in the tale of the person next to you.

“Minji?” Siyeon softly whispers, as if her name would shatter the sacredness of this place.

“Siyeon, I’m sorry,” JiU closes the door behind you and rushes to her bedside, “how are you feeling?”

If you hadn’t backed away from the bed, you’d have been run over by her attempt to get to Siyeon. You sigh before crossing your arms and walking towards Yoohyeon.

“I’m okay, I promise,” Siyeon grabs JiU’s forearms as JiU gently sets her head against Siyeon’s head, “but I think you have some explain to do.”

“You think?” You scoff before handing Yoohyeon a water bottle. “I’m glad you’re okay, Yooh, but please take someone with you before running off in the forest less than forty-eight hours after a murder.”

“Trust me, I learned my lesson. Humans are not meant to get into fights with forest gnomes, especially ones who are overprotective of the Queen that they kidnapped.”

Your facial expression twists into confusion as you look between Yoohyeon and Minji.

“Do I get an explanation on how this all relates to SuA’s attack after the party, or whatever just happened outside of this room?” You rub your temples with your hands in order to make sense of the scraps of information you have.

Forest gnomes that kidnapped Minji? Queen of the gnomes? Yoohyeon shows up looking like she got dragged through the whole forest twice?

“What happened outside of the room?” Minji mirrors your face of confusion as Siyeon stares blankly at Minji.

“The flickering lights, the sounds from the hallway… you heard none of it?”

“There wasn’t anything like that nor was there anyone in the hallway… it was almost like the place was completely deserted.” Yoohyeon explains as you fail to understand what just happened.

“You didn’t see Ryujin or Handong?”

“They were here?” Yoohyeon stares at you, in shock, as you slide into the chair next to her.

“I’m getting tired of weird shit happening to me.”

“Me too, but I think Minji would be best equipped to explain this one.”

“I, ah-“ She nervously rubs the back of her neck after letting go of Siyeon, “I had an idea that SuA was going to do something. That’s why I came to the party. I wanted to speak with you, but Yoohyeon forced me outside before I could say anything.”

“All you said was ‘I have something important to tell them’,” Yoohyeon mockingly says, “and there was no reason behind it!”

“Yooh, let it go, it’s in the past,” You squeeze her hand in support as she attempts to fix her hair with her free hand, “what happened next?”

“After leaving the party, I ran into Dahyun while walking back to the dorms. She said she was looking for Tzuyu, but she couldn’t go into her dorm building because there were campus police swarming the building.”

“Hold on, Dahyun was looking for Tzuyu? Tzuyu was at the party-“ Your heart sinks to the floor as your mind attempts to build a timeline of events.

SuA attacked Siyeon and Tzuyu sometime earlier in the day, which means that someone else was

“-Unless someone made a mirage of her. Think about it, she was pretty distant and didn’t participate in anything. I know she’s quieter than most, but she does like to do stuff.” Yoohyeon explains.

“Dami always said that mirages only imitated people, and only high-level spell casters could create or authorize talking or moving mirages.” You fondly remember the conversation from earlier this year, in which she had explained to you in strong detail how mirages worked.

You failed to understand any of it, but she was happy to have an audience to listen to her rambles before an exam, so you were happy. There would be little that you wouldn’t do to make her happy.

And yet, she put herself in a compromising position for you.

“SuA, a few days before this all happened, mentioned seeing a professor in the field of spell casting for some help on homework.” Minji adds to the conversation as you bite your lip in anticipation.

“And we’re back at this being the fault of a dead woman.”

“SuA’s dead?!” Minji and Siyeon both exclaim as your eyebrows nearly jump to the ceiling.

“Yeah, you two missed a lot. SuA nearly killed them, and Dami had to bind her soul to theirs to keep them from dying. Funnily enough, they actually did die-“ Yoohyeon tries to explain before someone interrupts.

“-Dami bonded your souls together?” Siyeon asks as an unreadable emotion crosses her face. “I never figured her to be that bold.”

“Wait, I died-“

“-For forty-two seconds, in which I was crying for thirty of those seconds-“ Yoohyeon corrects you as you stare at her, dumbfounded.

“-What the fuck is happening?” You let go of Yoohyeon’s hand before huffing and standing up. “You know what? I need a minute.”

“Wait-“ Yoohyeon attempts to grab your arm, but you swat her away with ease.

“Don’t, just stay here and catch them up to speed. It’s all too much, and I just need a second to think-“

“Wait, I still haven’t explained th-“ Minji’s pleas are the last thing you hear before you slam the door closed behind you.

You place your back against the metal door before sliding down to meet the floor. Currently, you wish you could time travel to three days ago, when none of this was your problem.

But you can’t, and it is your problem, so you have to figure out what to do next.

Okay, so I know that Gahyeon was the one to kill SuA, not me. SuA had been planning her attack for days and no one said anything. Tzuyu was murdered earlier in the day, and SuA, without any magical experience, managed to make a mirage of Tzuyu that could imitate her mannerisms and speech to perfection. Minji somehow knew what was going to happen and tried to warn me, but Yoohyeon thought that she had ulterior motives and shooed her away.

During the earlier attack, Siyeon was injured and was not found until much later by Ryujin. Ryujin brought her to the hospital and filed a missing person report for Minji. Handong stayed with me as Yoohyeon went to look for Minji. In-between the house attack and today, campus police came and detained Gahyeon and Dami.

Why Dami? Gahyeon took accountability for the murder, I’m assuming, but what did Dami do?

You pull your phone from your pocket as you notice the pitch-black darkness in the hallway.

I need to find Handong, quickly, because I have a feeling that something terrible will happen if it has not happened already. She never explained why campus police took both girls, and not just Gahyeon.

When you turn on your phone flashlight, you scream at the sight of a body a few feet from you. The corpse is unrecognizable - the best description would be if the inside organs replaced the outside skin of the poor victim. Most notably, you see two small circles, right next to each other, in a spot where you assume their neck was.

Fucking vampires.

You gag at the smell of rotting flesh, although you can’t see the flesh on the person, and you wonder how Yoohyeon and JiU didn’t see them earlier.

They would’ve freaked if they had seen that, right?

You see a large trail of blood leading into the darkness that starts at the body in front of you. Mustering about 1/10 of the bravery that you used to have, you tightly grip your phone case as you venture into the darkness that awaits you.

Adventure awaits, but I’m sure as shit not ready for it.

Interested in being tagged for future parts? Send an ask or reply to this post to be added to the tag list!

#kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #girl group x reader #girl group #dreamcatcher x reader #dreamcatcher au #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher scenarios #dreamcatcher reactions #seomjjit ~ hypnosis

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sebastianstansqueen · 10 months

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Lost In The Shadows: Part Three

A/N: If you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,306

Warnings: Angst, drinking, mentions of death, past abuse, but I think that is all actually

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open//

Tags: @cherryblossomsky - - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2write - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @sebsgirl71479 - @missvelvetsstuff - @hadesownhell - @casa-boiardi - @winterslove1917 - @hallecarey1 - @ash-craze - @barnesxstan - @unaxv -

Y/n paced in the back and forth in the back of the large venue wearing a gorgeous billowing dress, with fluffy sleeves, she chose this dress. “What if this was something I decided on a whim?” She asked Natasha, as she continued her back and forth path.

Natasha shook her head. “Y/n, I love you but it’s a little late to be contradicting your choices.” They did a proposal dinner, and the practice dinner the night before, and now Y/n had butterflies. James had been distant at both events, she knew it was obviously because of what happened at Inferno a few months ago, a lot of his things have already gotten to Y/n’s family’s compound.

“I know, but it’s scary everytime.” Y/n said the excuse is a way to help her anxiety.

Natasha came up to stop her friend from making a track on the carpet. “Y/n, sit down, take a breath, look I can help you run get you out of the states for a bit.” She winked and nudged Y/n.

“I have to do this, I made this choice. I'm going through with it.” She sighed just as doors to the left opened.

“I’ve been looking for the two of you everywhere.” Wanda says out of breath. “Come on, it’s about to start and we’ve gotta get out there.”

Bucky, stood alone at the altar waiting for the doors to open and to see Steve along with whoever Y/n chose as a maid of honor. As the doors open his eyes go up, first Steve walked down with a woman with light red hair, after them is Sam, along with the bartender from Inferno, his brows furrowed, after the two of them it was his young niece, she began to take a few petals and let it fall down on the ivory rug, and then Y/n made her way down alone, her side of the isle contained mainly friends, and cousins but a large chunk of the back on her side were notable families.

The ceremony was normal, we gave the vows provided by the officiant, as we held hands, at the end of that we made our way into a room in the back of the venue to sign the legal document, and after that they moved to the reception, where family wanted to take pictures, with the newly weds. At the end of the reception, both of them changed into more comfortable clothing. Bucky wore white pants with a black button up and Y/n wore a simple short satin dress with a square neckline and an inch or two sized straps over her arms. They walked down the walkway to a white SUV, Bucky opened the door for Y/n to get in first and then him, before he closed it. Y/n sat with her flowers in her lap as the car pulled away with Andy driving. The ride was silent, but as they pulled up to a tar mac, Y/n got out, Bucky got out with his brows furrowed. “What are we doing here?” He asked her.

“We’re going on a honeymoon.” She said as she was already heading up the stairs of the jet, as people grabbed luggage from the trunk of the large car.

Bucky made his way up and into the main seating area, Y/n had already gone somewhere and was nowhere to be found, he sat down randomly, just trying to relax for the first time that day, as the steps were put up, and the engine started Y/n came out from the pilot pit, and sat down. The plane was fully silent, eventually one of the attendants walked up, with a drink. “What is it?” Bucky asked the woman with bright blond hair.

“Don Julio 1942, Mis.Car-Barnes had the plane stocked up with more if this isn’t quite what you want.” She smiled as she spoke, Bucky took the glass she had offered originally.

“Could you, bring out a few of the bottles, and have the staff leave me and Y/n for a little bit.” He told her before she left she nodded a moment later she came out with another woman carrying four options of alcohol, he smiled and took one, he would give this one more try.

He walked up carrying two glasses, and a bottle for them. She had her full attention on her laptop, as she intensely typed and she occasionally typed stuff on her phone, he sat down next to her, puring the two drinks. “What are you doing?” She asked, looking at him with furrowed brows.

“I want to get to know you, at least a little before we're locked in a house together.” He joked lightly, her face reminded of the same.

“James.” She sighed out. “I’ve gotta work, I don’t really catch breaks.”

Bucky shook his head. “Ten minutes and a few drinks.” He wanted to come to an agreement.

She sighed and turned away from the screen giving him her full attention, he closed the laptop with his hand, and handed her the cup, with clear liquid, she threw it back easily. “So are we gonna sit in silence or are you gonna ask me a question?” She arched her brow as she poured another, little bit bigger drink.

Y/n didn’t care at this point she, wanted to get a little wasted on her wedding night, especially after the stressful morning, so, James pulling her away from work provided a good excuse, the burn of alcohol never really bugged her so as she waited for the first question she sipped on the drink and waited for something to start hitting. “Tell me about you, your last marriage I don’t know, I just don’t want to be married to a stranger.” He explained.

“My marriage, to Henry, was.” She thought for a moment, she wasn’t just gonna open up and say that on her last honeymoon in a jet similar to this one going in a completely different direction, there was a glass table and as soon as they landed she had to be hurried to the hospital. “Intense, lots of responsibilities, he was an older man.” Who still had ten times more strength than her at the time of their marriage.

“Okay.” He nodded, taking what little he could from the short sentences. “What do you like to do? Other than work.”

She arched her brow. “I mean, I don’t really know, I used to read a lot, and draw, I like music too.” She shrugged, taking a long drink out of the glass she held. “Tell me about you, I know about the car, I’ve taken a few looks at it since it’s arrived, it looks well done, from what I saw inside and out.”

“You know about cars?” He arched his brow and she nodded slightly.

“Yeah, when I was younger, the family mechanic usually would come to the compound, sometimes I’d find myself in the garage, and he would show me the safer stuff, but yeah I know a thing or two.” She nodded with what she was saying. “I wouldn’t say I’m an expert but I know what I need to get by.”

“I’ve had that car since I was a teenager, I got that as my first car.” He explained why it was so sentimental.

“Why did you move to Indiana?” She asked casually.

“I think, I’ll wait till you're willing to open up more till I tell you about that.” He threw back another drink of his own. “When are we gonna land?”

“I would suggest getting settled in, we’ve been in the air for an hour, we still got another eight.” She smiled out from behind her glass, before drinking the rest.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #mob!bucky x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #mafia!bucky #mafia romance #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia bucky x reader #mechanic!bucky x reader #bucky x mob!reader

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makur0 · 1 year

Note

Omg i miss your wrttings alot and all of them are great! Could i req Dom Arashi trying to pleasure her insecure s/o (fem reader)?? Can be mirror sex and overstimulation pls, sorry this is my first time requesting-

My favorite part~

synopsis — a girl's gotta help out a girl. hopefully you don't mind if she does it in a more intimate way [arashi narukami x fem! reader]

content warnings — nsfw, mdni. soft! dom! arashi, fingering, mirror sex, overstimulation, lot of praise + begging, self-deprecation at beginning so slightttt angst but comfort (there's no mention of arashi's genitals)

author's note — when i said i was going to post more during my break i go slap myself on my bed and proceed to sleep for five days /j. but im crawling out of the hole and hopefully i can go back to my daily-post days (never)

word count — 978

"NARU- IT'S NOT WORTH IT."

The blonde's hopeful smile melted into a frown as her hands filled with the latest cosmetics dropped back down to her sides. Realizing the cloud you brought upon your lover made you quickly raise your hands, shaking them.

"I- I mean why waste it on me?" You laughed shakily. "Save it for yourself."

Arashi pouted, the childish act masking her rising thoughts. "I'm not wasting it on you! And of course it's worth it, you'd look absolutely beautiful!"

You shrugged, genuinely looking doubtful, and Arashi confirmed the brooding thoughts.

You poor thing.

"I-" Faltering, you twisted your hands together. "Actually, nevermind. Go have fun, Naru. Maybe you can call Mika or Sena to try it with you."

Arashi hesitated, but hearing the finality in your voice she nodded feebly and took her bags, silently walking up the stairs to your shared room. And that made you feel worse.

"Dammit..." You cursed softly, dropping your head on the cool marble countertop. "I'm sorry."

Even with makeup, I won't look as beautiful as you without it, my love.

That's just how it is, even if it hurts like hell.

---

"Hey, Naru... sorry for earlier."

After beating yourself up for the past hour, you finally decided to walk up to the bedroom and apologize to her, wanting your weary heart to rest easy. But to your surprise Arashi was sitting at her vanity, carefully applying makeup.

"Mmmm," Humming, she gestured to you to come closer. "Apologize to me by telling me how this blush looks on me."

You nodded, slowly making your way behind her to glance at the mirror, then flushed. Along with the blush, Arashi had new eye shadow and even some eyeliner that made her look at least 10x hotter. 100 time than what you were.

You coughed slightly. "You look amazing, Naru."

Arashi stared at herself a little longer, then sighed. "Of course, I'll never be as pretty as you are. Oh well."

wait. what?

"Huh?" The response came out in a faint squeak, the latter's eyes glimmering in amusement.

She then turned around to you fully, staring at you straight in the eye. "My darling, I said that I'll never be as beautiful as you."

"But-"

"Mm! No buts." Immediately she shot out of her seat and cupped your chin, looking down at you fondly. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever laid my eyes on, baby. That's why I'm so head over heels for you."

Clearing your throat and reddened, looking down at your feet. Arashi glanced to her left, seeing her full-body mirror, and pointed at it. "See? Look how perfect your frame is, I'm so jealous! You have such beautiful curves!"

She walked behind you and faced you towards the mirror, pushing you closer to it and then finally settling you down in her lap as she sat on the carpet. Your face was hidden in your hands, the red skin shining brightly back at Arashi.

Resting her chin on her shoulder, she whispered right into your ear, increasing your blush tenfold.

"I also forgot to say... you're as pretty down there as your face."

"Arashi-?!" Too overcome with shock you stared at her through the mirror, exasperated, missing the hand starting to slip into your waistband. "-ngh!"

Her other hand cupped your mouth as she started rubbing your sex, cooing to you as she had her eyes closed. "You got a perfect face and a perfect little pussy, [name]. It's a shame that you can't see that yourself."

She let out a sigh just as you sang out a whiny, muffled moan, biting back a grin. "Of course, that's why I'm here. Giving praise to your gifts, my love. I already paid attention to your features, so now..." She flicked her arm, swiftly getting rid of your pants and undergarments as she revealed your bright pink cunt to the mirror. "My favorite part."

"Arashi, just-" You shook away your hand from her mouth only to moan loudly as she dug two fingers into your sex, her slender digits bushing against your walls. "P-please-!"

"Come on, my dear," She whispered, giving you puppy dog eyes through the mirror. "Just let me show you how cute you are."

"..." You couldn't keep the stare down for long, because when her thumb flicked over your clit you keeled, mind spinning at the numbing pleasure. Being more sensitive than usual due to a lack of touch from both yourself and Arashi, even a minute in you could feel yourself getting close to your high. Which you did, as she kept finger-fucking you quickly you trembled a little bit as you came undone, panting.

But Arashi didn't seem to stop there, no. Inhaling sharply and digging her face into your shoulder, she quickened her pace on your cunt and relished the high moans you elicited. She had to take advantage of this, she just had to. Catching you at a vunerable state, the thought of ripping orgasm after orgasm out of you was absolute heaven to her. She did feel a bit guilty- you were supposed to be pleased, not her. But surely there could be room.

You couldn't escape your girlfriend's grip- or you didn't even try. Why should you, she's so much stronger than you, no? Besides, having Arashi's fingers dug deep into your cunt, your sopping juices spreading on her and your inner thighs, turned you on more than you liked. A small, sane part of you still questioned why she chose to comfort you in such a lewd way, but your already-brainwashed part took it greedily. Just seeing your already-gone face, your legs twitching along with your bright leaking pussy made you absolutely submissive to your holder.

Besides... none of you had to go anywhere tomorrow. So just let your beloved fuck you dumb and make sure you feel loved.

TAGLIST: @sugarswebarsweb @ibaraluvr @himeru-soulmate

#enstars #ensemble stars #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #enstars smut #ensemble stars smut #arashi narukami smut #arashi narukami #arashi narukami x reader

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enihk-writes · 7 months

Text

[dancing in the dark, in the pale moonlight]

pairing: baek cheon x afab!she/her!reader

summary: fuck that stupid ass job that almost cost you your relationship, am i right?

word count: 5.54k

[01] ║ [02]

content warning: an attempt at the reader's life // reader's injuries are gory (kinda) // mentions of someone (not the reader) being buried alive // misogyny as per the product of the era // reader talks a little on religion and the afterlife

author's note: i started writing this the moment i posted the other part because my brain was still working in high gear and all... i'll have to postpone my other baek cheon fic for a while,,, i wrote topics in that one that are a bit toooo heavy for me rn. i researched on fashion through the dynasties in china for like,, one short segment on the story. so anyways... if my guess is correct hwasan timeline is most likely inspired by the sui or tang dynasty during the 581-907 AD which means that the spirit here is going to be from the qin or han dynasty around 220 AD and most martial artists uniforms come from this era iirc. i feel like i might not actually use this research too closely,, but i had to put this in to tell yall about what i found lol...

[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]

═══════════════

by the time you arrived at the deserted manor, the clock had struck midnight. and in a few moments, the spirit or spirits behind all the bride murders would be making their appearance.

chief...

the vice-captain starts, uncharacteristically. they've always been on the quieter side, never really talking unless they were spoken to. you raise your eyebrows, curious about what got them to speak up.

chief, please be careful.

you smile softly, tussling the vice-captain's hair.

i will.

you look around for a moment. hm, looks like you'd have to put in your best effort tonight, as the oldest since these kids relied on you. with a flick of your hand, everyone on site dispersed to their assigned positions, waiting for their next orders.

you stood all alone outside of the bedroom, waiting patiently for the critters to grow quiet. animals, after all, are said to have a keen sense for things outside of the human realm.

finally, the long-awaited silence fell onto the empty courtyard and you slide open the doors to the room — stepping in carefully. your padded feet barely making a sound as you walk into the carpeted room. from where you stood, you could see the shadows cast by the sparse furniture under the dim moonlight. you hadn't decorated the place, not really seeing any need to.

click.

the doors to the bedroom had been slid shut. you fold your arms behind your back. the spirit should be here soon.

hehehe...

a tinkling laugh swept past behind you in the dark bedroom.

you grip the short blade hidden under your sleeves, honing your senses to pin down the other presence with you at that moment. it was harder than anything you've done before, were you dealing with something far bigger than what you were capable of?

no. you had to snap out of that thought. if not you, then who would get rid of this vicious entity? those kids were still too inexperienced, you shouldn't grow disheartened now.

sighing, you walk around the room, stopping by the open window, looking up at the moon hanging in the cloudless sky.

how peculiar, it seemed the longer you were staring at it, the heavier your eyelids felt. it was almost bewitching, looking at the moon, you wonder if it was a trick of your hearing or was the moon calling you to move closer towards it? and also —

wasn't the room growing awfully cold?

your body reacted faster than your mind did, the blade whistling as it cut through the air to slice at the shadow forming behind you.

an ear-piercing hiss came from the shapeless being, slowly backing away as its features took form in the body of a girl no older than sixteen. she clutched her neck, and though the cut was shallow, she certainly looked like she felt the pain from it.

how dare you cut me!

she yells and lunged at you, catching your neck in her hands as she pins you to the ground, the furniture around you clattering away from the impact. you were sure you could've heard a bone crack in you.

keugh...!

you felt the air leave your body, you tried to breathe but it was hard, with the way her hands pressed down on your throat. how was a dead spirit this strong? your fingers grip the blade tighter, cautiously getting it ready so she wouldn't see.

with a swift action, you stabbed into the girl's side and she retreated to the furthest corner of the room with an almost animalistic growl, all while glaring at you.

you throw the ripped veil off your head, the flowers falling off and your hair coming undone. you stood up, wincing at the dull throbbing in your head, your vision going blurry for a moment — curse your anaemia for acting up now of all times.

you crazy hag! i can't believe you fucking stabbed me!

okay, now that was just straight-up disrespectful.

hag?

oh, so the insane bride-killing ghost that died at sixteen years ago, even before you were born, wasn't the hag — but you were? you were the hag? where the hell was the justice in that, huh?

you roll your eyes and sigh. no, you shouldn't be swayed by your short temper, you shouldn't let the spirit find an opening to attack you. remember — you had to finish the job before the night ended and the spirit got away.

you walk towards the girl in large strides, arms raised above your head, ready to strike her down with the purification sword. you didn't want to think about how much worse it could get if a spirit that didn't know how strong it was found out about its strength. not leaving a trace of their presence after such a gruesome act? you shudder from the thought.

the girl begins to cry.

you tell yourself that this was all an act, but it was hard to convince yourself. especially when the spirit had curled herself into a ball, shaking in fear, her eyes peeking out from her arms to look at you like a scared little girl.

your movements falter.

that was a mistake.

a hazy, clawed hand unfurls from behind her and reached out to slash at your chest, right where your heart lay. you stagger backwards, the cut had been deep enough to have you cough up blood. as your open wounds stained your already red dress darker, the shadow lingered at your feet, seemingly trying to collect your blood.

you tried to move back but you weren't fast enough.

the girl lunges at you again, but this time, her spirit went straight for your core, in a final attempt to possess your body and finish you off, probably.

as you fought to stay conscious amidst the myriad of voices assaulting your mind, you think back to something your master told you in passing when you were still in training.

something about spirits and their last will?

silly girl, every spirit has a last will. and not everyone knows what to do with that will. their grief takes the form of vengeance and i can only hope you know what to do when you ever come across a restless soul like that.

═══════════════

you wake up facing a young village girl.

gasping, you stumble backwards and hit a hard surface. but, it was weird. well more accurately, it felt weird. you were sure you were in a wooden house, so the walls would be rougher, so why did it feel fuzzy?

wait. the girl didn't seem to see you.

you walk cautiously around her, looking at her features carefully. her skin was tan from the time she spent under the sun, it was a little uneven and spotty in some areas. she was just a teenager, and that was kind of expected. you follow her gaze and see that she had been looking at herself in the mirror.

you wave your hand in front of her eyes to get a reaction out of her. she didn't seem to notice.

you blew air to see if she would hear it, but not even a single strand of her hair budged.

defeated, you try to swing your arm and slap her back — only for your whole arm to phase through her body.

ah?

your mouth hung open in shock. your whole arm went through a person, have you truly died and become a spirit?

no. that wasn't it. you reason with yourself.

this was the ghost's doing, and she wasn't here with you right now. this scene unfolding before your eyes, could they be a clue on her, or were they a distraction to fool you?

a horse whinnies on the road outside the girl's window. a barrow wheel squeaks as it turns, the horse's feet clipping noisily on the pavement. you peek past the wooden panes, eyeing the passing residents. their clothes were all plain and coloured in dull or muted tones. the texture looked rough. this wasn't a well-off part of town.

you look at the village girl. her hair was slicked back and tied into a low bun. her clothes were a little worn and a little dirty at the hems. her hands and feet calloused from the years of hard labour.

小燕！

the voice of an older woman calls from another part of the house, wiping her hands on her apron, the girl fixed her appearance one last time before she scurries towards the direction of the voice, while you stayed behind in the room

xiao-yan? as in little sparrow?

my name is actually 春燕 (chūn yàn). my mother just likes to call me xiao-yan at home.

the ghost had been standing next to you, her voice still edged on hostility but was softer now, nonetheless.

your mother?

the person calling to me.

the ghost walks out of the room as you trailed behind, looking past to see the old woman sitting on a chair by the doorway. needle and thread in hand, patching at tattered clothes. her crows' feet settling deeply on her features.

my xiao-yan ah... please be careful on your way out... come home before dark okay? don't make me worry okay?

you worry too much ma.

the village girl, or rather, the human incarnation of the spirit next you chirped as she made her way out the door. you wondered what the spirit was trying to show you, was this her life story before she crossed the bridge into death?

you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to ask more questions. the spirit continued to narrate.

i forgot everything about my time alive, except for this one day.

a sigh.

everything went wrong all in this one day.

═══════════════

you blink your eyes slowly, now walking alongside the village girl and the spirit. to your left you could see the sprawling acres of farmland and the town bustling with life below. looking ahead and past the hanging branches stood a towering gate.

no one had to tell you that this was where the lord's family lived.

the girl was led to the main hall where the lord and lady of the house resided. you and the spirit followed closely behind, passing through the countless maids and attendants working around the compound, it was fascinating seeing how no one could see or sense either of you. two beings who were not a product of this era, your bloody clothes and the ghost's tattered ones, you both stood out like sore thumbs.

it was silent. muted, almost, in the main hall. the lord and lady sat side by side as their son stood by his mother, his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder.

do you know why we have called you here today?

the lord asks, gravely.

no, my lord.

the village girl shakes her head, confusion swirling in her eyes, as she sat on the ground, kneeling before the family.

the lady grows agitated, she leans forward in her chair, opening her mouth to spew a tirade of grievances when the young master of the house gently pushes his mother to lean back in her chair.

let me, dear mother.

the village girl feels her heart race from his smooth and velvety voice. she'd only ever heard about the young master through rumours and quick glimpses through the crowd, so to be this close to him, the other girls from the village would be shaking in envy. she quietly notes that he was much more stunning up close — she must be really lucky today.

perhaps she had been staring for too long because the young man had cleared his throat awkwardly.

miss, i assume you must have heard about my older brother?

she nods, remembering the procession from earlier that year.

yes, may the first young master rest in peace.

the room grows silent to pay their respects to the deceased.

the young man spoke up again.

we are worried for my brother in the afterlife. he died without ever getting wed. we don't really want him to be made fun of by other spirits in the afterlife you know?

the village girl grows confused. she wasn't sure what he was getting at. what has the marital status of a dead man have to do with her?

the fortune teller we consulted has calculated that you are the best marriage candidate for my oldest son. so we want you to get married to him as soon as possible. by tonight if time permits.

with her voice shrill from agitation, the lady of the house sits up, fist shaking in the village girl's face, unable to contain her anger at the young girl's supposed stupidity.

the village girl on the other hand, felt her jaw go slack, she tried not to let it hang open from the shock of her lady's words.

marriage? to a dead man?

she's heard of horror stories of young brides being buried together with their deceased husbands whom they had married before his life expired. but those were supposed to be just stories! not an actual practice... right?

miss, i don't know what you might be thinking. but i assure you that this marriage will not be as morbid as it sounds. take it as any other marriage ceremony, except without the groom. you just have to sign papers and be my brother's bride on official documents! after that, you and your family will be rewarded handsomely for the trouble. this won't take over a day!

sensing the village girl's worrying silence, the young master interjects quickly, wringing his hands trying to close this deal as soon as he can. the faster their family gets this done and over with, the faster his life can continue from this standstill. his thinking was truly like a businessman's.

hearing that her little contribution would be compensated generously, she didn't think twice before agreeing to the suspicious deal. if it was like that then, when she goes home with the money, her mother wouldn't have to work anymore.

well, if that's the case, let's start the preparations now. the faster we get this done, the faster we can all go on with our lives.

the lord finally spoke up and with a clap of his hands, the room was filled with attendants, most of them surrounding the confused village girl. helping her to her feet in hushed tones, taking her away to presumably prepare for the ceremony that night.

the spirit follows the crowd and you hesitate following behind. the whole exchange felt off to you. surely, if you stayed here the family might let something slip, something that would prove your suspicions.

though you didn't have much choice in this matter. the features of the people in the room began to melt and drip, the scene morphing rapidly to the next part of the spirit's memory.

that's right, you had forgotten again. everything you saw was from the spirit's perspective. anything else beyond that was all up to one's imagination. was there really nothing you could do?

you hated this feeling.

this feeling of knowing something is going to go wrong, yet being so powerless to stop it from happening.

═══════════════

imagine having to sit in a tight space with a spirit, and a memory fragment who doesn't know you and the spirit exists. there was only that much space in the palanquin, and your knees touched the spirit's even when you were hugging them to your chest.

sorry about the space...

you try to start a conversation. but the other just wasn't interested, opting to stare at the image of herself — the village girl sitting across the both of you in this tiny palanquin. you look around the boxed space, noting the shoddy workmanship. looks like those nobles were really in a rush to get this done and over with.

the wind picks up and the curtains flutter upwards.

the night scenery was beautiful but—

this isn't the way to the lord's house?

the village girl mutters. and you had begun to think the same. sitting up with your senses heightened, you try to make out where the attendants were taking the girl. the spirit continued to remain unfazed.

something bad was about to happen. wasn't it?

the movements stopped abruptly, and you felt the palanquin being set down on the ground. the curtain slides open, a slender hand reaches out to guide the village girl sitting inside.

don't take his hand...

you try to tell the girl, you didn't like the heavy smell of incense and dirt surrounding the area. but of course, you were nothing more than a spectator to this whole ordeal.

you watch on helplessly next to the spirit as two footmen threw the village girl into the freshly dug-up pit. the fortune teller circles the pit, tossing water into the hole as she chants mantras of matrimony. all while the village girl calls for help, begging tearfully for mercy and her life. the overwhelming feelings of her fear washing over you again and again, knocking the air out of your lungs at each crashing wave, your heart squeezing tightly in your chest.

it seemed as though this just wouldn't end, as you watched the dirt fill up the hole and the poor girl's voice grow tired and hoarse, the pain grew from your heart to the tips of your fingers and dropped down to your stomach, swinging up and down like a pendulum continuously, making you even more nauseous than you already were.

but finally.

finally, the ordeal stopped. the sensations you felt lifting and leaving your body in a heated mass. everyone stayed silent at that moment, letting the sins of what had occurred sink into them. no one spoke, no one dared breathe a sound under the moonlight, lest the spirit of the village girl heard them.

there was shuffling and low greetings of reverence left the people's lips as they all stepped aside for a hunched-over man in heavy white robes to make his way to the edge of the covered-up pit. you could tell from where you were knelt over in pain that he was an exorcist similar to you.

he mummers prayers and covers the ground in talismans written in red ink, bells shaking with each step he took. binding chains reaching up from the scattered talismans to wrap around the spirit taking shape above them. poor girl, even in death, she wasn't allowed to rest in peace.

═══════════════

you blink, wincing at the bright sun shining into your eyes.

the spirit stands next to you, chains holding her down on the ground. you didn't have to look to see that you were both above her grave.

i was so stupid, believing all those lies. my mother collapsed when she heard about what happened to me. she couldn't pay for the house and she eventually died in an alley without anyone finding her corpse until days later when rats had already gotten to her. maybe if they had given her that money they promised to me, i wouldn't have been as angry about dying like this.

the spirit clenched her fists, teeth gnashing together in rage.

as if burying me alive wasn't enough, they called a fucking exorcist to cleanse this area, all because they were scared i would come and bite back at them for doing this to me.

the spirit's voice grows more irritated.

it's not fair! it's not fair! why do they get to die and move on to the afterlife? why did they get to continue to live their lives like my blood isn't on their hands? why did they get to have a happy marriage, a healthy baby watch their children and their children's children grow up to have their own families like my life was just... was just...

the spirit, no — chun-yan, began to cry, her back heaving as her sorrowful wails pierced your heart. she was just a girl. she was just a little girl barely on the cusp of adulthood. how could anyone be this cruel to her? how could the heavens let this happen?

you reach out to hold her in your arms, letting her cry her dead little heart out.

you wished things could be better for her. you truly did, however, what about all the innocent lives she had taken in vengeance? she still has to atone for that action.

it was abit of a shot in the dark, she didn't tell you nor did her memories reveal anything to you. but to free her spirit, you had to fulfil a wish of hers, this was the one and only shot that you had with this. if you got it wrong, you might have to go through a harsher method of exorcism. you hoped it wouldn't go to that stage.

yan-ah.

the girl sniffles.

chun-yan.

hm?

she asks you her eyes watery and tired.

is this the wish you had while you were dying?

you ask, throwing over the red veil slightly tattered at the edges, somehow still in your possession. you smooth the crinkles over the girl's head like an older sister would on her younger sister's big day.

═══════════════

the memory was collapsing.

you look around the dark space around you, taking a while to register that you were back in the bedroom where this whole thing first began. you lean back with a sigh, your head was starting to spin, you were sure that by tomorrow, you would be down with a fever.

chun-yan stood up, making her way to the vanity with a mirror at the other end of the room. she looks at herself for a long time in the mirror. a strong gust of wind blows through the open windows, toppling the remaining standing furniture. the curtains billowed in the currents, hiding chun-yan behind them.

your worries subsided when the winds died down and brought down the curtains with them, revealing chun-yan now dressed in proper wedding attire. a clean and crisp red veil, a long and thick wedding dress made of red silk with golden decorations embroidered into the fabric. the girl's hair was done up in two half buns with fresh peonies and flower buds woven into the thick tresses.

you bite back from making any noise. your heart swelled with a bittersweet feeling. you wished chun-yan's mother, the little old lady who you've only caught a glimpse of, could see her beloved daughter like this too. you rub your nose, sniffling.

...it suits you well.

chun-yan looks longingly at the moon, and then turns her gaze towards you. fidgeting, she asks quietly.

am i going to hell now?

yeah. you are.

your shoulders drop and you look at her sadly. you wished you could give her good news. you wished the world to be more fair, but you weren't god. you were merely someone who built bridges for spirits to cross over to the afterlife, in the end.

because i killed all those people... right?

you nod.

is it going to be scary?

probably.

chun-yan fiddles with her thumbs, picking on her nails.

mother always told me that bad people go to hell. and i became a bad person that's why i'm going there... right?

chun-yan... listen.

you ponder for a moment, you didn't really want to send her off with this heavy feeling.

sometimes, good people also go to hell. and it's because these good people made a mistake... and then another... and then another without stopping or thinking about stopping. and when they realise that they have been doing all these terrible things, they feel bad and if they are willing to atone, i think they should be allowed that chance to change...

you pause.

chun-yan... remember that you are going to hell to repent for the lives you have taken wrongfully. it's not because you were always meant to go there... i think. i hope that's not the case.

what did you want to say, what were you trying to say?

you weren't sure but, you wanted to ease the girl's burden a little.

hm.

chun-yan hummed. taking in your words. it seemed like she had understood something you hadn't. but whatever it was, it must have comforted her.

she stood still, flames growing at her feet. she didn't move or wince from them, letting it grow bigger and engulf her in it. as she disappeared along with the hellfire, she gave you a nod, perhaps as thanks for keeping her memories in your heart. you bow your head in reply, keeping it down until the crackle of the blaze grew quiet.

═══════════════

chief!

good god, who was it yelling so loudly in the morning?

chiiiieeeeffff!

heavens, were they crying? why are they crying like you were dead?

chief... don't die...

even your calm and collected vice-captain? now what was going on?

you try to sit up. emphasis on try, because for some reason you had been swaddled in layers upon layers of bandages. the smell of herbs crushed and rubbed onto your wounds and bruises was overpowering. to put it lightly.

ugh. what's going on.

chief!

the chief is awake!

you're still alive... huhuhuuuuuuu...

a chorus of ecstatic shouting and sobs was heard across the crowd gathered around you. judging by the voices, your best guess was that everyone there was the kids in your unit. seeing how happy they were, you must have passed out after the events of last night. truthfully, you barely remembered stumbling past the doors of the bedroom and into the vice-captain's arms.

all's well, ends well.

now, if the emperor would be so kind to give you a month—

no. a year, off work... you think you would be his biggest supporter. hell, you might even work for free.

but that aside, you think there might just be something you were forgetting right now.

═══════════════

baek cheon had volunteered to keep watch for that night. he barely slept since he came across you in that wedding attire. he was trying not to cry, but he's sure the junior brother sleeping across him must have heard him tossing and turning and borderline sobbing.

it was a little embarrassing to face everyone in the morning with his eyes puffy and face swollen. thank god chung myung wasn't with them this time, or baek cheon would have never heard the end of it.

he sits on a rock further away from where everyone else had set up camp. they were next to a stream, the sloshing of the water and the cackle of the firewood breaking apart soothed his senses. he thinks back to the times he had spent with you when the moon hung high in the sky just like this.

he sighs, leaning back against a tree with arms crossed — his fingers gripping his sleeves as he thinks again about the encounter with you the other night. you looked so pretty in a wedding dress, was he being too delusional when he dreamt about a future where you were wearing that for your marriage to him?

he sulks by himself, feeling jealous of the person he made up in his head, the person that he was sure you were going off to get married to.

he thinks the guy would be a little closer to your height, so that it made sharing kisses easier. the guy might have nicer hair, fluffier and maybe a little matted so you'd have a reason to run your fingers through it. your husband-to-be might have a more childish personality, much like yours so that the both of you would be on the same wavelength. he thinks the guy might also be mature enough, like you were so that you and him would ground each other. the other guy might have nicer skin that was soft and smooth and unblemished. his eyes would be fierce but gentle all at once, the shape of his eyebrows would be thick in a single stroke...

he realised the image of the guy was looking a little too much like chung myung.

tsk. that's no good, he was starting to get even more pissed off and upset.

cheon-ah!

this was no good. he was starting to hear things because of how much he missed you.

cheon-ah!

how was it that he could replicate the sound of your voice in his mind? truly, the yearning of a man in love was so fascinating.

cheon-ah!

baek cheon wonders if he was going crazy for thinking the voice was growing closer to him. poor guy didn't even get the chance to look over before he felt the full weight of somebody colliding with him. his arms instinctively wrapped around the other's waist, his body recognising that it was you faster than his mind would.

you're here?

he asks, bewildered.

baek cheon couldn't wrap his head around how you got to him so quickly. did you really abandon your husband-to-be at the altar like that? for him?

listen to me baek cheon.

the man nods mindlessly, revelling in the warmth of your being so close to his — he was barely listening, let alone registering what you were saying right now.

maybe he should steal in a kiss.

his hand find its way to the back of your head, pushing you down to have your lips meet his. whatever you had been rattling on about died in your throat, muffled sounds of shock morphed into soft sighs. you pull away, moving to sit more comfortably on his lap, legs swinging on either side, straddling him.

holding back a laugh, your arms circle around him, pulling him closer. he hadn't heard a thing you said from having his head up in his own clouds. what were you going to do with this man?

cheon-ah... did you hear what i was saying?

you ask, peppering kisses on his cheek, brushing his hair out of his eyes. baek cheon shakes his head, still very much starstruck.

tsk, tsk...

you tut disapprovingly, pinching his nose, breaking him out of whatever fantasy he was deep into. he looks at you, wide-eyed and a little offended by your gesture. he sulks when he meets your unimpressed stare.

i'm sorry... i'll listen well this time...

he whines quietly. not wanting to lose you to some other man again.

the other night, when you saw me in the wedding dress... it was for an assignment... you ran off before i could tell you about it... my poor baek cheon, tell me you didn't lose sleep over that?

his eyes widen.

an assignment? so... you weren't getting married for real?

the melancholy settling in his bones lifted instantly, his gloomy expression brightened, and his eyes started to sparkle. he didn't care about acting borderline pathetic these past few hours, you weren't getting married to someone else! and that was all that mattered to him right now.

what's going on in that pretty head of yours?

nothing... i... i'm just so happy that i still have a chance...

he mutters the last part of the sentence, hoping that you wouldn't hear it. but you did, of course you did. he can't have let the nature of your occupation slip from his mind now, has he? your squeal of excitement reached his ears, barely registering the flurry of kisses you were raining down all over his face.

cheon-ah! you like me enough to want to marry me? ah! my lovely baek cheon, hehehehe...

you were acting a little strange, he noted. were you ever this affectionate? what's going on?

he catches a whiff of the herbs slathered under your bandages, your forehead brushing past his cheek felt hot in the feverish sense. one closer look at you and he could see your eyes glossing over along with the sniffling you had been trying to hide.

no way... was the great inspector... sick?

you whine, throwing your head back as baek cheon desperately tries to catch you from falling head-first on the rocks. your temperature was rising and your head had begun to spin. no wonder it did, after all, you did run out of the room you were to carry out your bedrest in — without any food in your stomach or any breaks from what happened with the exorcism last night.

you just knew you had to clear things up with baek cheon, the feeling of leaving the misunderstandings in the air, weighing at the back of your mind consistently.

ugh. it was embarrassing to have him see you in this out-of-character state. maybe when you got better, you will have to meet up with him again to talk about your relationship more seriously.

for now though, you just needed him to know how much you liked him back. and that you weren't going to get married to someone else anytime soon.

baek cheon though?

he's going to have to worry about how to explain why you were here to his martial brothers, and also bring you back to your unit somehow. but that was none of your concern, was it? you were already knocked out from the fever catching up to your body.

#enihkwrites #return of the mount hua sect #return of the blossoming blade #return of mount hua #baek cheon #baek chun #rotbb #rotmhs #baek cheon x reader #baek chun x reader #return of the blossoming blade x reader #return of the mount hua sect x reader #3rd ish last fic #im clearing out the hwasan ones i have because i drafted 2 for another webtoon lol.... my hyperfixations move fast #i saw an artist call baek cheon the neighborhood idiot #havent stopped thinking about it since #my beloved #my ideal man is a stupid himbo with nothing going on up there just vibes and prayers and yearning #ugh the end is so sappy i had to take breaks to throw up

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preciouslandmermaid · 10 months

Text

quiet fury in your head [v]

Dream of the Endless x F!Reader / Sandman Fanfiction

Note: I wrote this in a day and it’s pretty short and it’s mostly just PINING. YEARNING. PINING. No use of Y/N. See part 1 for all the tags tbh.

Warnings: None

(Read on AO3) || (masterpost for other chapters)

1789

Dream sits across from Hob and twists the small, black onyx ring that he’s chosen to wear on his smallest finger. Your magic—your dream-weaving abilities given to you by Desire—they thrum with pulsing, hot energy that coaxes down his spine and across his collarbone. It is as delicate as a kiss. It is as burning as molten, hissing magma. Hob glances down the ring.

“I’ve never know you to…” Dream stares at him, impassive, “well, I suppose I don’t know you at all.”

“You do not.” Dream replies stiffly. But the rest of their conversation draws short as a woman enters wearing a golden cloak, her brown hair fashioned in an up-do, flanked by two men holding knives.

He returns to the Dreaming. The leaves rustle with his disconnected mood. It takes him no time at all to find your presence within the Dreaming. You are a magnificent bright light that shifts in color depending on your mood. Today, the color is periwinkle and pensive.

***

You wag your small, white tail. The child—you don’t know her name—pours you another cup of tea. Her stuffed animals blink at her. You often use your shape-shifting abilities to traverse the Dreaming. You think this child would see you as a nightmare if she saw you in your true form. Your pointed ears suddenly perk. A sensation—a familiar smell—sharp, acidic tickles your wet nose. Fear. The child is afraid of something...That isn’t unusual. Children are often afraid of many things—darkness, thunderstorms, being left alone. But this fear is different. A shadow creeps across the floral parlor. You strain to sense anything else. The shadow fades. The child’s dream continues. Something haunts this one. You leap from your chair and sniff around the carpet, though it only smells of tea leaves and the child’s creativity. The child scoops you up in her tiny, thin arms and deposits you back onto your chair.

“No, no Stinky! Our tea party isn’t over yet.” She chastises. Before you can resume your tea party, however, Morpheus arrives and the dream vanishes to some other corner of the Dreaming, leaving you and Morpheus standing across from each other alongside a canal in a city of Moroccan architecture. The murky canal waters ripple as three giant, red koi fish swim past. The air smells of freshly baked bread and cigar smoke. A few Dreamers walk along a stone bridge several feet away. Yet, no one pays you any mind.

You say, “You could call rather than pull me from a dream.”

“This is more efficient.” Jessamy lands on his shoulder.

“Very well.” You sigh, “how can I be of service, King of Dreams?”

“Follow me.”

You fall into step behind him. You admire the stern, tense line of his back and the sharp cut of his cloak. He has not touched you since Desire came to visit all those years ago. You suspect that your shared kiss was merely a lapse in his judgment. An error—one that he would not repeat. You try not to dwell on his absence or his coldness. His aloof nature does not harm your pride. It is safer if Morpheus is untouchable. Badb’s prophecy will not come true if keep distance between you. He will be your undoing. Those were your sister’s words. Her final prophecy. Yet Morpheus treated you as he treated all his subjects. He requested your help from time to time, but that was all. Any fire that once burned between you had turned to ash.

Dream glances to the side and your heart squeezes at the clear line of his profile, his lush mouth, his nose. His arm extends and sand swirls around his feet. His power ripples through the Dreaming—through you. Your teeth clack together as you suppress a shiver. Perhaps the fire still burns within me.

“Do you not like the dresses in your room?” Jessamy asks. Morpheus gave you a room inside his castle complete with a bed and wardrobe. You touched none of it. You laid in open fields when you felt like resting—although you did not sleep or dream. You walked barefoot through the Dreaming, your dark dress carried the rips and tears from Lugh’s spear like scars.

“I wear this to remember and honor them.” You lift the tattered sleeve of your dress back onto your shoulder. And to punish myself. Macha’s generous laughter rang inside your ears. Badb’s crows nibble at your fingertips. Lugh’s spear glistens with the blood of your sisters. I do not deserve the comfort of new clothes. My sisters are dead and forgotten and only my tie to the Endless has saved me from the same fate. Once Dream releases me, I will bury their tokens as Desire instructed me, and only then will I allow myself the pleasure of grief.

“Do you see it?” Dream asks, pulling you from your reverie. You gaze toward the white sands. They roll and shift as if breathing. The Dreaming is alive as he is. A reflection of his power, his creativity. The fine specks of sand tickle your face as they slide across your jaw and cheeks.

It takes a moment, but in the cloudless blue sky, you see the shimmering shapes of floating translucent jellyfish. Their bodies plume outward and then relax like a parachute as they meander through the air. You can feel Dream’s eyes on you, but you don’t turn toward him. You keep your focus on the creations. This is why he brought you here. It’s not to show off. In the past, whenever Dream brought you to a location in the Dreaming, there was always something to be altered, or fixed, or improved upon. This is your service to the Dream King. Your penance for a transgression that occurred over a thousand years ago. Morpheus uses your insight to shape the Dreaming. You see the Dreaming differently than his creations do—because you weren’t made by him—and you see the Dreaming differently than a mortal would.

“Something is missing.” Your fingers twitch at your sides. If you had your dream weaving abilities, you would fix the problem yourself. But, you gave those powers to him as a show of good faith. You no longer ran and hid from Morpheus within the Dreaming. You are compelled to serve him. It was your final command given to you by Desire. Once you were free of Morpheus, you would be free of all the Gods and all the Endless. You would create your own destiny.

You sink onto your knees in the soft, warm sand. You use your finger to draw shapes and Dream’s shadow looms over you. Once finished, you look up at him. His lips purse softly, his fathomless eyes regarding you and your drawings. His eyes meet yours. Electricity runs through your veins like lightening running through a storm cloud. You wish—foolishly—that he might arch his spine and brush his cool, dry lips against yours. You push the thought from your mind.

You say, “Every creature deserves to rest.”

Dream straightens and the Dreaming shifts at his beck and call. A formation of tall, canyon rocks burst through the sand. The jellyfish float around them and land inverted on the orange scraggly rock faces. Their tentacles pulsate upward and gradually slow as the jellyfish stop their cycle of endless swimming. You rise to your feet and brush the hard grains of sand from your knees.

“Do you include yourself in that sentiment?” His rough and pleasant voice envelopes you. You focus on the sleeping jellyfish. You envy their peace and their simplicity. They will live forever in the Dreaming with Morpheus watching over them. You wonder if Dreaming creatures mourn and if they grieve as Gods do. You haven’t interacted with many of the Dreamings’ inhabitants. You keep yourself contained to visiting the dreams of mortals—it helps to keep yourself connected to the outside world and learn how humanity fares without your influence. I know the humans still have their wars, and battles, and strife….they just don’t do it under my name anymore. You doubt the Men of the world remember your name at all. Desire called you ‘forgotten’ and you are inclined to believe them. I wonder if Lugh ever became a saint as he wished. I hope they burned him regardless.

You close your eyes and finally answer Morpheus, “No.”

The warm wind stirs.

“Are we done?” You say before Dream can respond. You don’t want to think of the past anymore. The past has serrated edges. And your heart only has so much room before it starts tearing at the seams. You must keep moving, like the giant koi fish in the canal, otherwise you’re afraid you’re going to break. I don’t deserve to grieve my sisters. Not until their tokens are laid to rest at the Heart Tree and my spirit is free to travel the mortal world and astral planes.

His voice is soft, “Yes, we’re finished here.”

You nod stiffly and turn on your heel to leave him.

“Until next we meet.” He says to your retreating back.

****

Dream watches you leave him with his heart lead-weight at the center of his chest. The Dreaming shudders around him like a sigh. Your tattered dress: I wear this to remember and honor them. Your closed eyes and forlorn expression. You are a creature of grief, and rage, and patience. He has no doubt that you are just biding your time until he releases you.

Yet, as the years pass, Dream is finding it harder and harder to let you go. You will likely never return to the Dreaming once you are gone. And he is selfish. He enjoys your presence here even as he keeps you at arms-length. No matter what Desire said and promised—he cannot trust his sibling. You ensured Desire would not meddle, but who knew what influence his sibling still had on you.

He couldn’t risk it. The bright blue sky overhead rumbles with storm clouds. Dream lifts the collar of his coat and begins his solitary walk back to his castle.

#morpheus x reader #dream the endless x the morrigan #dream the endless x reader #the sandman fic #dream x reader #reader insert #the sandman x reader

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beewolfwrites · 9 months

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Olive Branch - Chapter Six: The Past

(Itasaku, Successful Coup AU) You can find the previous chapters on my masterlist at the top of my account page.

Another chapter! Both this chapter and the next focus on the past through flashbacks, and how the coup came to happen. I know some of the flashbacks are existing scenes from the series, but they will become more original at the end of this chapter and in the next one.

Thank you all so much for reading :)

___________________________

The bedroom was lit only by the waning moon and two candles on the bedside table. Sakura was sitting on the edge of her bed, bare toes against the carpet. She shivered in the evening breeze from the open window, unconsciously picking at the raw skin of her cuticles. All day, she had felt fine. Confident, even. But as the afternoon fell into evening, a dull sense of dread wedged its way into her heart.

It's just Itachi.

She glanced at the window, knowing that he would appear soon.

He's not going to do anything to hurt me.

Even so, the thought of that technique made her skin crawl. Her body hadn’t forgotten how it felt, all those years ago in that pitch black chamber. She had been blinded by darkness, the only guiding light a pair of vibrant red eyes that had easily pulled her into their depths.

A part of her screamed that she was tempting the devil, that Itachi was a member of the clan that slaughtered her parents, that tortured her, and that she had no business getting involved in a plan like this, let alone allowing Itachi to use his genjutsu on her. However, another part genuinely wanted to believe that not all Uchiha were corrupted. Sasuke was her friend, regardless of his family. And so far, Itachi had never given her any indication that he would harm her.

Come on Sakura, don’t give in to fear…

Standing, she walked over to the door. The hallway was cold — colder than it should have been. Upon entering the living room, she drew a sharp breath.

He was already here.

His silhouette lurked in the corner, slim and unmoving, his eyes glowing crimson. For a fraction of a second, Sakura was still trapped in that chamber, caught in the spell of those eyes and unable to look away even as her pounding heart urged her to run away.

But then he stepped forward and turned on a lamp. The light slanted across his features, leaving one half of his face cast in an orange glow, the other masked in shadows. His expression was blank.

Sakura swallowed, taking a steady breath. ‘You're earlier than I thought you'd be.’

‘I made sure to finish sooner than usual.’ A pause. ‘Sakura, do you always sit around in the dark?’

She shrugged, feeling slightly more at ease with the small talk between them. ’It’s a waste to keep lights on when I'm not in a room.’

‘I see.’ He paused again, and she could feel his eyes carefully examining her. ’Are you sure that this is what you want?’

‘I'm sure,’ she said.

He didn't reply. Before she could so much as blink, she saw three swirling tomoes morph into three jagged spikes. Her heart jumped and she stumbled backwards.

Calm down Sakura, he's not going to hurt you…

As the room melted into a blurred trance of colours, she vaguely registered a hand supporting the back of her head and a calm voice reminding her that she was safe. But this was quickly forgotten as she was sucked into a world of red, orange and black.

__________________________

A hot summer wind blows across Itachi's neck as he crouches, clad in full Anbu gear, on the roof of a weapons shop. He watches the scene below with caution. Two men are wrestling on the ground aiming drunken blows at one another. From their attire, he knows that they are civilians. With two hard punches, a tooth skids across the dust.

‘Please, someone!’

A civilian woman waves her arms amidst the crowd around her. Itachi recognises her as the owner of the weapons shop.

‘Police! Anybody!’

Itachi considers intervening, but three familiar chakra signatures are fast approaching, and unlike Itachi, these signatures belong to police officers. Within seconds his father appears on the scene, flanked by two clansmen. They push through the crowd, Fugaku waving the audience away whilst the other two officers grab the shoulders of the fighting men and drag them apart.

One is handcuffed almost immediately. But as an officer places the cuffs around the other man's wrists, he shrugs himself free and swings his fist in a wide arc. It misses, naturally.

‘Goddamn Uchiha!’ He yells. ‘Get the hell out of here!’

The officer catches his wrist and twists it. With his other hand, he grabs the man's jaw, holding his face inches away from his own.

‘Say that again,’ the officer hisses. His Sharingan burns. ‘I dare you. Say it.’

Despite being cuffed, constrained, and face to face with the infamous Sharingan, the civilian man scoffs through a bloodied mouth and a broken nose.

‘Don't give me that shit. You can stop acting so self-righteous. We all know who was responsible for the Nine-Tails attack.’

The officer looks as though he is about to throw the man to the ground, but then Fugaku turns, his own Sharingan activated.

‘Take him to the cells.’ Fugaku's voice is cold and quiet. ‘Now.’

Dragged away by the officer, the man grins, displaying a set of glistening red teeth and gums.

‘Touched a nerve, have I? I believe in karma, you know. You'll get what you're due one day.’

Whispers flutter through the crowd of civilians. Even from his perch on the rooftop above, Itachi is able to catch the gist of their hushed tones.

‘… Acting innocent.'

'Their clan district wasn't damaged nearly half as much as the rest of the village...'

‘Who do they think they are?'

'I guess the Second Hokage was right all along…'

______________________________

In one of inner chambers of the Hokage Tower, Itachi kneels on a tatami mat. His head is bowed out of respect for the four elderly figures sitting on the platform before him.

’It will not work, Hiruzen,’ Danzo comments flippantly. He eyes Itachi. ‘This technique cannot guarantee that the coup will be stopped. Even if it did work and Uchiha Fugaku was held under its influence, who is to say that this would sway the opinions of the other clansmen.’

Itachi grits his teeth. He knows perfectly well the distrust that Danzo harbours for the Uchiha clan. ‘If I may speak, Hokage-sama?’

The Third Hokage nods. ‘Please go ahead.’

‘My father holds a high level of influence over the clan,’ Itachi explains. ‘If he were to gradually stop his plans for the coup, I believe everybody else will eventually follow. If I may make a suggestion, a way to calm the Uchiha would be to provide the clan with a position of power in the village. A place on the council, for example. Or perhaps an equivalent.’

Koharu's outrage instantly fills the room.

‘Members of the Uchiha on the council? I will not hear of it,’ she snaps. ‘It is far too much of a risk. We already know we cannot trust them, otherwise we wouldn't be in this situation.’

‘The Uchiha clan has been a longstanding—‘

‘Hiruzen, please! Do not entertain such a ridiculous idea. The Uchiha clan needs to be dealt with forcefully—’

‘Enough, Koharu!’ The Third Hokage raises his hand and Koharu quietens. ‘The Uchiha are old comrades in arms. I want to try settling things with words before violence.’ He pauses, mulling over the dire situation. ‘Itachi.’

‘Yes, Hokage-sama?’

‘Tell Shisui to go ahead as planned with the Kotoamatsukami. The sooner the better.’

Itachi inclines his head. ‘Very well, Hokage-sama.’

____________________________

Itachi stares hopelessly at the uchiwa fan on the back of Shisui's shirt as they both silently weigh up what little options they have left.

Itachi had been waiting for Shisui at their usual meeting spot – beside the waterfall over the Nakano river. Only, Shisui had been late, and Itachi had discovered him deep in the woodland, horribly poisoned with fresh blood dribbling down the side of his face. Now, Shisui is looking down the cliff side, watching the waterfall as it crashes into the river.

‘It seems we can't prevent the Uchiha's coup d’etat,‘ he murmurs. ‘If internal warfare breaks out in the Leaf, the neighbouring countries will invade and there’ll be another war.’

It was the truth. Somehow, deep down, they both knew it would come to this.

‘I was planning on using Kotoamatsukami to stop the coup, but Danzo stole my right eye. He didn't trust what I was trying to do, and he'll resort to anything to protect the village. He'll probably come after my left eye too.’

Shisui finally turns to Itachi, his expression resolute.

‘Before that happens, I want you to have it.’

‘Shisui—'

Itachi holds back a grimace as Shisui’s fingers close around his left eyelid. There is a squelch of blood and a hiss of pain, before Shisui painfully removes his eye and holds it out in his closed fist.

‘You're really the only friend I can trust. Protect the village, and the Uchiha name. Both of them.’

Itachi extends a hand and reluctantly takes the eye. It’s warm in his palm, and he can feel Shisui’s comforting chakra radiating from it.

‘But I…'

‘This isn't the only thing that I need to give you,’ Shisui says. ‘I'm going to give you a new power too. The Mangekyou Sharingan.’

Itachi freezes. The Mangekyou Sharingan? Such a rare form of the Sharingan with such an incredible cost. He already knows what this means for his cousin, but the thought is too much to bear.

‘Shisui...You can’t.’

‘I'm not going to last long in this state anyway. Take it as a gift. My final wish.’

Itachi doesn’t know what to think. How had things come to this? How had they let things escalate this quickly? His thoughts are all consuming, drowning out everything else.

‘What's with that face of yours?’ Shisui teases him lightly.

Caught off guard by the comment, Itachi’s thoughts grind to a halt. Unperturbed, Shisui places a hand on Itachi’s shoulder.

‘Even like this, I can still see your face easily you know. A worried expression just doesn't look good on you. You must always remain calm. That's what Uchiha Itachi is. I'm positive you can do this, so don't worry. It’ll be fine.’

Itachi lowers his head, squeezing his eyes shut because what else can he do but accept this decision? This awful, awful decision. The eye has become a deadweight in his palm.

’I will carry on your will for the Uchiha clan.’

Shisui gives him a bitter smile. ‘From now on, you may be forced to walk down a long dark path. One that's filled with suffering. I have to apologise that I can't be with you through it all. Still, I hope you don't stray from your path, and keep moving forward as a leaf ninja. I believe in you.’

Itachi clenches his jaw as his throat grows tighter by the second.

‘That is why I'm able to ask you to carry my will,’ Shisui continues. ‘And the Mangekyou.’

He takes a deep breath, but to Itachi it is closer to a sigh of relief. The future is such a heavy burden, and they’ve shared its weight for far too long.

‘Thank you,’ Shisui says quietly, ‘for everything. I guess this is the end of the road for me, but this will pave a new path for you and give you a new power. You can do it. I know you can… I leave the rest to you.’

He pauses, and although it is a mere few seconds, to Itachi it feels like an endless void.

‘If I die, many things will change.’ Shisui backs away slowly. His feet are mere centimetres from the edge of the cliff face, his voice almost a whisper against the roar of the waterfall. ‘I've already left a note.’

The reality of the situation crashes down on Itachi, and the tragedy is too much to bear.

‘Shisui, wait!’

‘Don't try and stop me, Itachi.’

There is a moment of emptiness. A silent second. Then Shisui’s body tumbles over the edge.

Itachi leaps forward, stretching out his arm to grasp Shisui's shirt, his wrist, anything that could be used to haul him up.

‘Shisui!’

Seconds of silence pass before a wet crack echoes. Itachi draws his eyes away. He has seen death. He has seen war and bloodshed. He watched helplessly as his old genin team were slaughtered before his eyes by a masked stranger. But right at this moment, he cannot bear to look.

Suddenly, his eyes begin to burn and sting. Wetness trickles down his cheeks as his vision becomes unerringly precise. The Mangekyou. This is Shisui's gift to him.

‘Rest in peace, Shisui.’

______________________________

Itachi is sitting beside Sasuke on the engawa when he hears raised voices from the entrance of their home.

‘Is Itachi here?! We need to talk! Come on out!’

Itachi ruffles Sasuke's unruly hair as he stands and makes his way through the house. Two Uchiha clansmen are lurking by the front door. One man has greying hair whilst the other is far younger. Over their shoulders, Itachi can see a third man hovering behind.

It is the youngest who speaks first. ‘We get that you've been busy working for the Anbu, and your father tells us repeatedly that he's watching over you.’

‘But we don't plan on treating you any differently because of that," the man with greying hair finishes.

Itachi sighs. ‘Why are all of you here?’

‘There were two people who didn't show up at yesterday's meeting,’ says the elder man. Itachi recognises him as a prominent officer in the police force. But before Itachi can reply, the other speaks up.

‘Why didn't you come?’

The words are laced with accusation and Itachi knows exactly what is being insinuated. He has been under suspicion for a while due to the fact that he avoids attending clan meetings. This isn’t the first time he has been questioned about the matter. His father made it very clear that his avoidance was unbecoming, especially as the heir.

‘I understand,’ Itachi replies. ‘I will be more careful in future. Now, I'm going have to ask you to leave.’

This has little effect on the officers, who openly scowl.

‘All right,’ the eldest says slowly. ‘But first, we want to ask you some questions about something. It’s about Uchiha Shisui, who died after throwing himself into the Nakano River last night.’

Itachi keeps a still expression. Of course, it was only a matter of time before they approached him.

‘And we, the police force, have chosen to launch an all-out investigation.’

‘Investigation?’

The young man is staring at him curiously. ‘If my memory serves me right, you looked up to him as if he were your own big brother, no?’

Itachi feels his chest ache at the thought. Of all the things to remind him of… ‘Is that so? I haven't seen him recently. His death is truly unfortunate.’

The eldest officer reaches into his pocket and draws out a folded scrap of paper. He holds it out to Itachi.

‘This is the note left by Shisui. The handwriting analysis proves that it's definitely his.’

Itachi gingerly takes the note. ‘If there's no sign of murder, why is it that you're investigating?’ His eyes scan over the familiar writing.

'I have wearied of my duties. As it is now, the Uchiha has no future, and neither do I. I can no longer follow the path.’

‘I find it hard to believe that somebody like him,’ the youngest says, ‘a shinobi who would take on any mission for the sake of the clan, would leave a note such as this and then commit suicide just like that.’

There is silence as Itachi stares at Shisui's handwriting. A torrent of emotions flow beneath the surface, but it would be improper for him to display them right now. Instead, he closes his eyes briefly and swallows, ignoring the lump in his throat.

‘It is not wise to judge others based on your preconceptions and by their appearances.’

‘That may be. But we also know that it would be easy for somebody with the Sharingan to mimic Shisui's handwriting.’

As Itachi reads Shisui's note over and over, savouring the last connection he has to his cousin and best friend, the officers continue to explain their suspicions. Itachi barely listens. He knows their true motive for turning up at his doorstep.

‘So,’ the youngest proposes, ‘we ask that you give the note to Anbu and request their assistance in this investigation.’

‘Understood,’ Itachi answers simply. As the three men lumber away from his front door, Itachi’s control slips as his Sharingan activates. His fingers clench around Shisui's note. ‘Why don't you come out and say it? You all suspect me, do you not?’

The three men stiffen and turn, their eyes glowing red.

‘Yeah that's right, you little punk!’

Within seconds, Itachi darts forward and grabs at their throats. It is no strain on his part. They are no match for his impressive strength and tact, and when he is finished with them they lie panting on the ground.

Itachi stands over them, fists clenched white. His resentment for the clan, for his father, for himself for allowing this to escalate, he feels the pressure welling deep inside like a dam ready to burst.

The eldest officer shakily attempts to raise himself from the ground, but he only manages to sit up a couple of inches before his arms give way.

‘Shisui was told to keep an eye on you.’ Blood dribbles from his lips. ‘It's been six months since you joined Anbu and your recent actions and words are more suspicious than ever. Just what are you thinking?’

Itachi watches them with disgust. The words slip out before he can stop them. ‘It's always “the clan this”... “the clan that”... You all inadequately measure your own capacity, and then fail to see the depth of mine. Now, you're lying before me, defeated. Like I said earlier, it isn't wise to judge others based on your own preconceptions. You assume that I am patient, and so you underestimate me. You hold onto the organisation, your clan, your name, but these are all things that limit us and we should detach ourselves from such trivial things.’

Knowing that they will never see beyond the limits of their bias, he watches their expressions shift from anger to bewilderment. But before he can lash out once more, a voice swiftly cuts in.

‘Stop! Itachi!’

Fugaku is standing in the street before them. He is dressed in his police uniform, having returned home from work.

‘That's enough! What’s going on? Itachi, you haven't been yourself lately.’

‘Nothing is wrong,’ Itachi replies smoothly. ‘I am simply carrying out my duties.’

His father's expression flashes with shock as Itachi spins on his heel, launching a kunai at the compound wall. The kunai splinters the rock, leaving a large crack across one of many uchiwa fans painted along its surface.

Before he can stop himself, Itachi mutters, ’I have lost all hope for this pathetic clan.’

Scuffling and groaning, the three men get to their feet, immediately taking their places beside Fugaku as they carefully scrutinise Itachi's every move.

‘That's enough. Keep this up and we'll throw you in jail.’

‘You lose sight of the things that are most important to you when you adhere to something as insignificant as the clan.’

‘I've had it!’ the youngest exclaims. ‘Captain, give us orders to arrest him!’

Itachi's anger courses through his limbs. His eyes start to prickle, and with startling clarity he realises that the unfamiliar sensation is in fact the Mangekyou threatening to activate. A part of him no longer cares. The clan deserves its fate. And yet, just as Itachi’s control begins to slip further, a small voice reaches his ears.

‘Big brother! Please stop it!’

Sasuke is peering at him from behind the doorframe, eyes are brimming with tears.

His baby brother.

Itachi drops to his knees in defeat as his heart swells with guilt. He hates the thought of Sasuke seeing this side of him, but at the same time, he needs Sasuke to know, to understand the reality of the Uchiha clan.

The cobbles are warm in the sunset as he bows to his father and apologises for his words and actions. He understands that his actions were a mistake. He had become lost within his rage.

And yet, deep down he is glad that Sasuke saw. One day, Sasuke would come to realise just how shallow this clan truly is.

_____________________________

Itachi can taste the storm brewing in the distance as he stands face to face with Danzo. They are at the edge of the woods, by the shrine gates that cover the entrance to Root.

Itachi takes in Danzo’s frail appearance. He looks harmless, deceptively so, but knowing what this man did to Shisui makes Itachi's stomach coil. Even so, no matter how corrupt Danzo is, it cannot be denied that he holds the interests of Konoha above all else.

‘Despite what the Third Hokage said,’ Danzo begins, ‘when his hand is forced he will do whatever it takes to protect the Hidden Leaf. So far, words have failed to keep the peace.’

There is a pause, and Danzo’s single uncovered eye glints with something dark and mischievous.

‘I heard of your cousin's suicide. It is a great loss considering his prowess over the Sharingan.’

A cool rage sweeps over Itachi’s body like frost. The words are clearly intended to get under his skin, to trigger a violent outburst, and whilst nothing would have pleased Itachi more than forcing Danzo to face the same fate that Shisui suffered, he’s painfully aware that the Uchiha are already on thin ice.

‘If the coup goes ahead,’ Danzo continues, ‘it will result in a civil war. If that were to happen, not only would there be countless losses within the village, but neighbouring countries would also take advantage of the turmoil and invade. To avoid this, the Third Hokage has no choice but to resort to violence in order to prevent the coup d'etat before it happens.’

Itachi’s breath catches in his throat. Danzo's eyes crinkle in pleasure.

‘I have called you here to present you with two options. Align with your clan and you will be slaughtered along with your family at the hands of Konoha's Anbu.’

A fork of lightning flashes across the sky.

Sasuke.

As if reading his mind, Danzo explains, "Your brother is innocent, that much is true. However, if he were to be spared, it is inevitable that he will eventually learn of the Uchiha's plot. Should he realise that the village he calls home is responsible for the extermination of his clan, who is to say that he would not become vengeful and turn against the village? He would become an enemy of Konoha, and as a result he would have to be eliminated.'

There is a sharp sting in the palm of his closed fist, followed by the familiar stickiness of blood. His fingernails seem to have penetrated the skin, but Itachi welcomes the pain.

Danzo will not touch Sasuke. If he even tries to lay a single finger on Sasuke…

‘Of course, there is another option.’

Itachi waits for him to continue.

‘If you were to take the matter into your own hands, and exterminate every Uchiha aside from your brother, the fall of the Uchiha clan would rest on your shoulders. It would result in your becoming a criminal and living out your life as such. But your brother, Uchiha Sasuke, would be left unharmed and ignorant of the truth.’

A criminal? Him? He would never be able to live as Sasuke’s brother again. The thought alone sends a crushing pressure through his chest. However, he would live. Sasuke would survive.

‘Uchiha Itachi, do you accept this mission?’

Lightning strikes once more, and Itachi sees clearly the shadows lingering behind Danzo’s lone eye.

He does not answer. He can’t just yet. And so, he walks away.

______________________________

The midday sun washes over Itachi’s skin through his shirt. The feeling is divine, and if not for the cage of thoughts plaguing his mind, he would feel at peace. He is perched on the roof of the Hokage Tower, wondering how he can even begin to choose between the village and his clan.

His mother… His father… No matter which of Danzo’s options he chooses, their deaths are inevitable. Shisui entrusted him with the task of finishing what they started, but instead he has failed as a friend, as a cousin, as a clansman.

He has failed as a son.

Suddenly, there is a terrible crash and the Hokage Tower shakes violently. Itachi has to grip the edge of the rooftop to keep himself steady.

And then he sees it.

An explosion.

Several explosions light up the village, three in total, and Itachi's heart pounds with dread as distant screams and yells fill the air. The clash of kunai reaches his trained ears, and all around him, Konoha shinobi dart across rooftops towards the sites of the attacks.

The houses, shops and market stalls… all engulfed in flames. Nausea churns in his stomach. To anybody else, it would look like an outsider attack on the village, but Itachi knows better. His gut feeling is never usually—

His body is blown backwards, a wave of heat singing his skin and hair, as an explosion racks the street in front of the Hokage Tower.

There is a moment of weightlessness, before he crashes through the roof, landing in a heap of hot broken glass and blackened wood. Grimacing, Itachi manages to climb to his feet. Pulling hot shards of glass from his arms and legs, he pushes the throbbing pain aside and surveys his surroundings.

He is in the middle of an unlit hallway, dust falling in a halo around him. He looks up, realising that just above his head, a chunk of the roof has been blasted away. All around him the tower is alive with the muffled footfalls of Anbu running to protect their Hokage. Hopping back onto the roof through the hole, Itachi's heart sinks at the sight of the village.

Chaos.

The village has been reduced to chaos.

Civilians shriek as katon jutsu sear through the streets. Itachi can identify members of the Uchiha clan dotted around, grinning at the sight of the damage. Blood is splattered across the buildings as determined Konoha shinobi attempt to rescue civilians whilst engaged in combat.

‘Uchiha-Taichou!’

Itachi only vaguely notices as one of his clansmen appears on the roof beside him, Sharingan activated. The man is looking at him with a guarded expression, but his eyes shift to Itachi's forehead.

‘You’re bleeding, Taichou.’

Itachi touches his forehead with his fingertips. When he pulls away, his fingers are covered in blood. Probing further, he realises that a foreign object has pierced his temple. He yanks it out to discover a small piece of metal.

‘What’s going on here?’ Itachi asks. He does not bother to hide his disgust. ‘This was not the plan.’

The man – whom Itachi now recognises as Uchiha Shota, a former Anbu – gives him a pointed look. Shota tilts his head and with two fingers, he effortlessly launches a kunai at the remains of the building opposite. With a wet gurgle, the kunai penetrates the throat of a Yamanaka shinobi who had presumably attempted to crawl into Shota's mind.

‘The date of the attack was moved forward,’ Shota finally replies. ‘Lots of us found your behaviour suspicious, so it was suggested that you weren't to be told about it. Fugaku-sama was reluctant but—‘

‘Where is my father?’

Shota grins triumphantly. ‘I knew it. People were saying that you were against the coup. Your parents refused to acknowledge it. They said you were stressed because you're an Anbu captain. But tell me, is it true that you attacked three of our clansmen?'

Itachi’s first instinct is to punch this man. He feels his muscles tense.

‘Apparently they asked about Shisui, so you attacked them and denounced the clan. Despite what your father says, it's true isn't it? You're the enemy—'

Itachi's hand shoots out, grasping Shota by his collar and hoisting him up. ‘Like those men, you are trying my patience. Tell me where my father is.’

‘Tracking down the Third Hokage,’ Shota gasps, spluttering.

Itachi knows the answer before he even asks the question. ‘To do what?’

‘Whatever it takes to win.’

In an attempt to remain calm, he assesses the situation in front of him. What should he do? His village or his family?

Sasuke.

His fist tightens around Shota’s collar. ‘My mother and brother?’

Itachi's forearm stings where Shota is clawing at his wounded skin. It didn’t matter. Should anything happen to Sasuke, he would never forgive his father. Shota's answer is a warble of strangled words.

‘The Uchiha children and elders are hidden beneath the Nakano shrine. Mikoto-sama is with them.’

Itachi lowers the man to the ground, only slightly relieved by the knowledge that his mother and brother are safe for now. With that matter out of the way, Itachi knows that he has to stop this madness somehow. But he barely has a chance to consider his next move, as Shota coughs and speaks.

‘I came to find you because Fugaku-sama sent me. He wants to give you a message.’

Itachi’s eyes blaze as his Sharingan sears into the Mangekyou.

‘What message?’

Shota's lips curl into a wicked smile. ‘Pick your side.’

#itasaku #itasaku fanfiction #itachi x sakura

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