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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 years

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Honey, a lizard ate the cat!

pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Byers!Reader

genre: follows show plot lines, but with diverge from canon, obviously (its a reader insert)

WC: 8.4K

warnings: cursing, a whole dream sequence of lonnie being a homophobe (i used the f-word, but its censored), should be it, message me if theres something i need to add.

summary: you and steve did have plans to hang out this weekend, except those plans didn’t involve a baby Demogorgon. you really wish it was just the two of you in your room, you cleaning and him keeping you company.

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG -The Byers Harrington Story-

series masterlist

ep5 is the very beginning and ends at the first break and then it leads into ep6. ep6 is split between this chapter and the next one, but for ep6 it’s mostly my own writing. next chapter for ep6 will have more show scenes.

@alecmores for being my proof reader!

reblog or leave a comment/anonymous comment if you can! i would really appreciate it❤️

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You snapped awake from the nightmare, your body lurching forward from the bed. Chest panting like you just ran a marathon, trying to catch a breath that was escaping you. And you weren’t the only one gasping for air this morning. Will jerked forward a second later, his shirt more stained with sweat. The two of you exchanged looks with the other, trying to gauge what caused the others abrupt wake.

“Will, what’s wrong?” Mike’s morning voice asked from the floor.

Will looked at you and then turned to Mike, his eyes held a terrifying color within, and his body carried with a light tremor, “I saw him,” that was his only reply before leaving the bed and changing his shirt.

You shared a look with Mike, both of you confused and worried, before following Will out of his room. The two of you trailed behind him down the hall and out into the living room. You were confused at the sight of Joyce sitting in the middle of the floor, the drawings surrounding her, and one of the phones sitting beside her. She stared ahead of her, at the TV or drawings, you weren’t sure, but she was in a sort of trance. She didn’t turn her attention to you when the three of you walked behind her, it took Will calling out to her three times and a shake of her shoulder to capture her attention.

“I saw him.”

“You saw who, baby?” Joyce asked, confused.

“Hopper.”

Now that wasn’t the answer you thought would come out of his mouth, you thought he was talking about the shadow monster.

“What’s wrong with Hopper?” you asked the obvious.

“I think he’s in trouble. I think he’s going to die.”

A shiver ran up your spine due to the way Will delivered the line, saying how Hopper might die. You started to panic, Hopper can’t die, he can’t. You don’t know what you would do if he died, he was there for you before Bob came into the picture. He was there for the family when Will went missing. He was another person you went to about your dilemma where you asked yourself for months if you should have stayed at the school, which of course Hopper says you should have followed his and Joyce’s words. But he would reassure you that none of it was your fault, “We’re dealing with the unknown, there’s only so much we could do.”

“Well, what are we gonna do? Do you know where he is? His current location?” you asked Will frantically.

“He’s in the tunnels.”

“Tunnels? Th- These tunnels?” you pointed at the drawings covering the house.

He shook his head. You held your mouth open and spun around with your arms out in a ‘these tunnels!’ attitude. Your hands fell and smacked your outer thighs.

“Will could spy in the tunnels,” Mike stated.

You and Joyce turned to Mike with confusion written on your faces and set in the furrow of your brows, Will looked a bit peeved that Mike had told the both of you that. Was this what they were talking about yesterday? Before you entered Will’s room.

“What do you mean, “ Joyce asked.

Mike and Will shared a look, “I don’t know how it works, but I can see in the tunnels,” Will answered.

“But I can’t control it, I guess. It just happens on its own.”

“Could you maybe draw where Hopper is? In the tunnels?” you questioned.

Will shrugged his shoulders, “I think.”

He then headed back to his room, the three of you stuck to the floor for a moment then followed him. He was sitting at his desk, a blank piece of paper in front of him with the crayons beside him. He sat still for a few minutes, the noise of everyone’s breathing filling the silence, then he grabbed a crayon and started to scratch at the paper furiously. He stayed doing that for about five minutes before he stopped, Joyce beside him leaning down.

“Hey, is this where you saw him?” she points at the paper. “Is this where you saw Hopper?” a stutter followed the sentence.

You and Mike walked closer behind Will and leaned over his shoulders to look at the paper, “I think so, yeah.” He replied.

Joyce, still confused, grabbed the paper and then looked at the both of you, “Okay,” she whispered to herself.

The three of you then started to look around the room, searching for any place the new drawing could fill. Seeing no place open in Will’s room you all filed out and into the hall, looking from the bottom to the very top to find an opening. Joyce checked the living room, you checked the dining room, and Mike checked the kitchen.

You and Joyce both struck out and then, “Here!” Mike yelled from the kitchen.

The two of you rushed in and he was pointing at a spot on the fridge. Joyce ran over and threw the paper over an existing trail.

“Okay, so… so Hopper is here?”

“Yeah. Now we just need to find out where here is, right?” Mike asked.

“Right,” you reassured.

“Did he say anything? I mean, before he left?” Joyce looked at you and Mike.

“Uh, some…something about vines?” she sighed.

Neither of you got time to respond when the sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupted. You three looked up in anticipation. “Hopper,” you breathed in relief.

You rushed over to the window wanting to see Hopper’s car with your eyes, but a pang of disappointment stabbed your heart when it wasn’t Hopper’s truck, but Bob’s car. You turned around when you heard Joyce and Mike following you and you gave a confused look at Joyce, “What’s Bob doing here?”

Joyce seemed confused at the question and looked out the window. She started to look around the living room, her hands fidgeting together. She was nervous for Bob to see the house this way, and you can’t lie, you didn’t want Bob to know about any of this. He wasn’t supposed to know about any of this. What if the government found out and killed him? What if he got hurt while involving himself in this crazy mess? You don’t know what you would do if you lost another person to this stuff.

In your haze of worry, Joyce hurried outside, the noise of the front door closing behind her as she walked to Bob. Mike walked beside you and together you watched the interaction between Joyce and Bob. He was carrying what looked to be different games in one hand while he used the other when talking. They leaned in close to each other, Joyce’s body covering Bob’s face.

“What does she see in him?” Mike asked.

You turned to Mike with an annoyed air around you, “How about you shut your trap, Wheeler. Not like you’re catching girls on your web.”

Now the both of you looked at each other with annoyed and offended expressions, so engrossed with the other that you both missed Joyce turning back to Bob and waving for him to come inside. Hearing the door open was the thing to stop your staring contest.

“Now, you can’t ask too many questions, because you won’t be getting many answers,” Joyce told Bob over her shoulder.

“Can one of you grab Will?” and Mike took that as his cue to do so.

You made a gentle grab of Joyce’s upper arm and pulled her into the dining room and, with your voice lowered, “What is Bob doing here?” you whispered.

“He could figure this out, he is called ‘Bob the brain’.”

“But we can’t involve people, what if the government comes after him?” “We’re not gonna tell him anything, we just need him to help with the map, okay?”

You looked at Bob in the living room, his head moving in different directions taking in the taped drawings, his steps slow and cautious.

“I just- I just don’t want to worry about Bob getting hurt.”

“Honey, it’s going to be okay. We’re not looking for danger, we’re just looking for Hopper. And Bob might be our only shot at finding him.”

Your eyes fidgeted between her and Bob, your anxiety peaking for a moment. But if Bob could help figure out what Will was trying to show the three of you, where Hopper currently was in the tunnels, you’ll quiet the anxiety right now.

“You guys doing some redecorating?” Bob joked about the drawings.

You and Joyce plastered false smiles at the joke as Mike and Will joined the three of you in the living room. “How are you feeling, buddy?” Bob asked Will.

“Uh, I’m- I’m okay, right now.”

You can’t tell if that was Will's full-on lying to Bob, or if there was a hint of truth in his words about the actual situation.

“Okay, so, Bob, remember, no questions.”

“Why is that?” “Ah, that’s a question with no answer, sorry Bob.” you retorted.

He just nodded his head and then looked at the drawings again. The five of you stood in deafening silence, you four looking at each other as Bob kept his eyes glued to the walls.

“You drew all these yourself?” he turned to ask Will.

He just shook his head yes. Bob nodded his head with an impressed look and turned back to the wall of drawings, “Why, exactly?” he questioned.

“I…I told you the rules,” Joyce pressed. “No questions, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Joyce began to walk away, “We…we just need you to help us figure out what…” she stopped halfway to the kitchen when Bob wasn’t following behind, “Bob? Bob?” He finally turned around at the call of his name, “Over here.”

He handed Mike the stack of games he brought with him and headed to the kitchen. Just as you were about to follow you took a glance over at Will, he was staring at the wall for a few seconds, and his eyes widened. “You okay?” a gentle hand lay upon his shoulder.

He snapped from his trance, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You chose to believe him and walked to the kitchen, “Where…where this is.”

Joyce was squatting in front of the fridge where the new drawing Will did this morning was taped. She colored over the blue and purple crayons forming the tunnel and used a red crayon to form the X marks the spot sign. The treasure of the hunt, find Hopper and save him from the tunnels.

“That’s the objective. Find the X,” Mike added over Bob’s shoulder.

“Yeah? What’s at the X? Pirate treasure?” He chuckled at his joke.

“Bob, no questions,” was all Joyce responded.

“You could just think of it as treasure,” you joked.

He nodded his head, “Okay.”

Bob took a moment, he looked at you and Joyce with a sigh, and then at Will and Mike with a click of his tongue. Joyce cleared her throat from how quiet Bob was about the whole thing.

“Let me talk to you for a second,” he reached a hand out to Joyce’s shoulder, “hang on, guys.” And the two of them left the kitchen, heading somewhere down the hall.

“This is going terribly,” you sighed with a hand rubbing at your temple.

If Joyce couldn’t give answers to Bob, and if Bob just thought the four of you were crazy, then this wasn’t gonna go much further. And right now, the longer it takes to understand the tunnels, the less time Hopper has. Who knows how long he’s been down there? You don’t understand how the Upside Down works. Can he breathe properly without a hazmat suit? Does he have his gun?

“(Y/n),” a gentle voice and hand slipping through your fingers took your attention.

Turning to the voice you saw Will looking at you with worry in his eyes, you must have been pacing or something, showing your anxiety about Hopper. You couldn’t break down, Joyce was already on her teetering edge, and with Jonathan off to who knows where you had to be the strong adult for Will and Mike right now.

“I’m okay, Will. Just worried for Hopper.”

“What are you, like, in love with him?” Mike’s annoying voice spoke.

With your free hand, you smacked Mike upside the back of his head, “what the-”

“Dumbass. Aren’t you worried about Hopper?” “Yeah, but you’re just extra-”

Hurried steps and a voice interrupted the conversation, “Okay, I get it. That’s Lake Jordan. And if that’s Lake Jordan, then you can probably find…” Bob and Joyce were walking back from the hallway. Bob was pointing at certain drawings a new air about him with this situation, “Yeah, that’s, uh, Sattler’s quarry. And if you just follow it naturally…” he trailed into the living room, “it moves to…the Eno River.” And he stood in front of the corner that the Demogorgon crashed through that forsaken night. “And there it is. That’s the Eno, do you see it?” He asked Joyce.

You and the boys stayed in the kitchen, but you slowly inched closer to the pair, wanting to understand what Bob was talking about.

“Okay, so, the lines aren’t roads. But they act like roads.”

Bob was walking to the dining room and then finally reentered the kitchen, the boys sitting at the table as you stood with your arms crossed over your chest.

“And they act like roads ‘cause when you follow ‘em, you’ll see…” he met the four of you in the kitchen, “they don’t go over water. And that’s the giveaway. That’s the giveaway! Ha!” You would think Bob just won a competition with his enthusiasm. “Don’t you get it? It’s not a puzzle, it’s a map.” He was walking around the kitchen.

“It’s a map of Hawkins!” he held his arms out triumphantly.

The boys looked at each other, and you looked at Joyce, who was looking at Bob, so you looked at Bob with a bit of confusion. Bob just laughed at his discovery. “Right, Will?” Bob turned his attention to Will as he sat at the table. Will looked flabbergasted.

“I’m still confused, but I never understood in the first place,” you mentioned for some reason.

Bob looked at you, “That’s okay. All I need is a map of Hawkins, a ruler, paper, and a pen.”

The four of you started to run around the house, shouting out when you found something on the list. You come in last with the map of Hawkins, one that's been sitting in an empty cabinet for who knows how long. With the needed supplies, Bob placed everything on the kitchen table, “All right,” he whispered to himself. He opened the side of his jacket, showing the three different pens clipped to an inside compartment. He plucked the middle one, clicking the ink tip into place, “All right. I’m three point six inches, what do you got?”

“I’m not sure,” Mike yelled at Lovers Lake, “Mrs. Byers?”

Joyce was running through the hall to Tippecanoe, “Uh, twenty-one feet, four inches.”

“What about Tippecanoe to Danford Creek?” Bob called out.

She sighs, “Danford?” and stammers, “Where’s Danford?” “Dining room,” Will shouted.

You watched as Joyce ran from Tippecanoe to Danford Creek in the dining room, “Sixteen feet, ten inches.”

“What about Danford to Jordan?”

“Oh, come on, this has got to be enough,” she stuttered.

She and Will run to you and Bob in the kitchen, Mike appearing from Will’s bedroom.

“It’s not. It’s…it’s really not,” Bob complained.

“Okay. Can’t you figure it out?”

Bob stuttered an answer, “Well, it’s hard. The ratio isn’t exactly one-to-one. I mean, if you’re twisting my arm, and you are twisting my arm,” he turned to Joyce, “I would say that the X is…” He drew a line on the map, “maybe a half mile southwest of Danford?”

Joyce sighed in relief, “Thank you. Thank you,” and planted a hurried kiss on his cheek.

He was dazed for a moment as Joyce tore the map from the table and rushed out of the house, the boys following just behind. You and Bob shared a look, “What? Are we… Are we really going?” he looked at you for confirmation.

You were looking from Bob to the front door, “Uh, I think?” And Bob hurried out of the kitchen to the car.

It still took you another millisecond for your brain to catch up with everything, and before you could rush after the four bodies, the distant noise of static and a voice drew your attention away. You hurried to the noise, not wanting to lose the trail which led you to Will’s room, the static voice muffled by a sock laying over the receiver.

“Will? (Y/n)? Byers! Anyone copy? This is code red! I repeat, a code red!” Dustin’s voice shouted.

You instantly radioed back, “Dustin?”

A few seconds passed, “(Y/n)! Oh, thank god!”

“What’s wrong?...over,” you know he’s a stickler about that.

“I have a situation at my house and I need back up, I already have Harrington, but I need some muscle, over,” you could hear the cut-off noise of Steve saying something back.

“What kind of situation? Over.”

“Just come to my house, you’ll see for yourself, over.”

During the conversation, you walked from Will’s room to the living room to check out the window, and seemingly your mom was in such a hurry that she left the driveway already. You sighed in annoyance with her impatience but got over it.

“Fine, be there in about twenty minutes, over.”

You placed the walkie on the dining table, grabbed a jacket, and rushed out the door. You were about to have the worst workout ever.

…

After maybe thirty minutes instead of your stated twenty, the Henderson residence came into view, along with the maroon BMW parked up the driveway. It was completely dark by the time you dropped your bike on the cement ground and called out for Dustin.

“Dus-” haven’t biked in a while, you were out of breath.

The faint sound of talking and then a loud banging noise sounded from behind the house, so you followed the noise. Just around the bend of the house, you could see the back of Dustin who was standing a few steps away from Steve who held a flashlight in one hand and the nail-studded bat in another. You didn’t even notice he took it from your house that night, he unknowingly had a piece of you with him, the butterflies kicked into gear but you pushed them down. Walking down the small cobblestoned path leaves crunching under your beat-up sneakers, the boys whirled around at your entrance, Steve holding the bat like he was ready to swing.

You threw your hands up in a surrendering action, “Stand down, just me.”

They sighed in relief, Steve dropping the bat down onto the cellar doors, your hands coming down in a crossed position over your chest. You stopped just behind Dustin with your eyes looking at Steve over his shoulder.

“What’s this code red?”

“Dustin has a lizard that ate his cat,” Steve deadpanned.

“Okay, it’s not a lizard, it’s a baby Demogorgon.”

“Dude, whatever, it ate your cat.”

The two bickered back and forth while you digested this information. Dustin got his hands on a baby Demogorgon. A baby Demogorgon somehow has been living in Hawkins for who knows how long, and its first victim was Dustin’s cat. This had to be the worst timing for everything, first with Will’s episodes getting worse, then Hopper getting lost in the tunnels, and now this. Is November your cursed month?

The shining of bright light on your face disturbed your thoughts, making them scurry away into the dark. Your eyes squint to adjust to the sudden brightness against the dark background, a hand moving to shield the light helped.

“All right, listen, kid. I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s also November fifth, Steve.”

He just huffed, “Whatever. You understand, Henderson?”

“It’s not a prank.”

You backed Dustin up, “They only use code red in real emergencies. They know better than to joke about it.”

Steve still held his annoyed demeanor, the flashlight still being directed at Dustin and your faces, “Get it out of my face,” Dustin argued.

“Please,” you added, your arm getting tired.

The light moved from your face to the cellar, “You got a key for this thing?”

You watched as Dustin fished said key from one of his front pants pockets and handed it to Steve, the teen handed Dustin the flashlight and you the bat, then immediately unlocking the chain. He waited for a beat before throwing the doors open and looking into the dark abyss. Dustin walked closer to Steve’s side with the flashlight pointing down the stairs. Steve grabbed the shaking light from Dustin and pointed it further down, you couldn’t see anything from your position behind Steve.

“He must be further down there,” you suggested.

“I’ll stay up here in case he tries to escape.”

The slow turning of Steve’s head to look up at Dustin was comical, and you would have laughed if the time called for it. Steve looked back to the cellar with a shake of his head and the light still shining.

“I’ll go with you, Steve.”

He immediately stood up from the crouched position on the ground, his body to its full height, so he had a few inches on your person, his shadow looming over you.

“No, you are staying with scared Henderson here.”

“But I can-”

“No,” his voice firm, standing his ground.

He got closer during the quick conversation, his chest almost touching yours. You had to take a step back leaving a sliver of space between your bodies. You didn’t want Steve to go on his own if the baby Demogorgon was down there, but you chose to not push it further when you saw the look in his eyes. The worry danced across his pupils, anxiety hidden in the shadows, a protectiveness on the front lines in his irises.

“Okay, but if you need help, just shout, okay?”

His nod was the only answer before he took the bat from your grasp, his hands tickling against your own for a moment, and your breath caught in your throat. He took the bat and headed down the stairs slowly, waiting for any noise. When he got to the bottom he walked in further and then the whole room was filled with yellow light. A minute went by, and then another, and then three whole minutes went by where there wasn’t a single noise from Steve in the cellar.

“Steve?” Dustin broke the silence.

No response.

“Steve, what’s going on down there?” you questioned, worry seeping into your words.

You and Dustin walked closer to the open doors, trying to see something of Steve, a shadow, or his shoes. Just as you were ready to head down the stairs, a blinding light from the cellar stopped you in your tracks.

“Get down here,” was all you heard from Steve.

You shared a look with Dustin then descended the stairs, Dustin two steps behind. When you got to the bottom, Steve was holding the bat with something hanging off and shone the light onto it. You grimaced, it looked to be a slimy piece of flesh, it seemed to be slightly translucent with the light beating down on it.

“Did it fucking shed?”

“Oh, shit,” Dustin groaned.

If it shed its skin, that means it’s growing bigger. And Steve pointed the light in the direction of a buried tunnel that leads outside the Henderson cellar, things just got worse.

“Oh, shit!”

The three of you shuffled closer to the hole, Steve and Dustin in the front and you leaning in from behind, “no way,” you complained.

It got away and- no- it was running around Hawkins in the dead of night, probably eating more cats. You hope Joyce and the boys got to Hopper in time, not wanting the baby to have gotten its teeth into Hopper. And you hope Will was feeling better, him being somehow connected to the tunnels made you uneasy.

“Okay, well, it’s too late to go out looking for it. So, how about we met up back here tomorrow morning? I gotta get home.”

“(Y/n)’s right, the both of you should come back around ten, and then we’ll go to the butchers.”

“For what?” Steve asked while standing up.

“Meat for bait, duh,” Dustin snarked.

Steve scoffed, “Whatever, Henderson.” He started to head for the stairs, “(Y/n), you need a ride home?” Steve asked, you and Dustin trailing behind him, the boy shutting the overhead light off.

“Yeah, I biked here and I know if my mom saw me when I got home, she'd probably have a stroke.”

So, with that, the two of you watched and waited for Dustin to head inside, lock his door, and give a thumbs up as his all-good signal. With your bike thrown into the trunk of Steve’s car and the radio volume on low, the two of you headed to your house.

…

“Looks like we have weekend plans after all.”

“I needed to clean my room, though.”

The first five minutes into the drive the two of you sat in silence, processing the information you gained tonight. Dustin had a baby Demogorgon, it ate his cat, now it ran off into the tunnels, and tomorrow morning the three of you are going to get meat to bait it so you can capture it. You just wanted to get home and make sure Will was feeling better before falling asleep.

“How’d Dustin find you? I don’t think you’ve ever crossed paths before.”

He hesitated in replying, “I was at the Wheelers, wanting to visit Nancy, and Dustin happened to be there.”

It stung to hear it, he was trying to win Nancy back. You heard their argument that day, Steve asking, almost demanding Nancy to tell him that she loved him. The way she hesitated in answering, clicked in your head fully just now. That night at Tina’s party, when they both ran off somewhere and when Steve rushed out of the house about five minutes later, sometimes during that he mentioned his love for Nancy. Steve loved Nancy. An invisible hand twisted the knife sticking out of your heart.

“You haven’t seen Nancy around, have you?” “Uh, no.”

And then silence again, your house coming into view. As Steve pulled into the driveway, you took notice of seeing no one's cars. Not Joyce’s, not Jonathan’s, just Bob’s, and you know he’s with Joyce and the boys. You didn’t want to be home alone, but the thought of asking Steve to stay wasn’t helping your growing panic.

“Do you…I could spend the night if you want. We have to meet with Henderson in the morning anyway.”

You knew what he was doing, even if he didn’t realize it. He noticed your hesitance in leaving and so he voiced the option you were also hesitant to ask. And a small part of you guessed that his parents weren’t home, and maybe a small part of him didn’t want to be home alone either.

“If you could, that would make me feel better.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” and he turned the engine off.

You unlocked the door and when you were reminded of the disaster covering your house you whirled around to Steve, his chest a hair away from you, “uh, just warning you, the inside is covered in drawings.”

He looked confused, “What-”

“It was during one of Will’s episodes,” and that clamped Steve’s mouth shut.

The two of you entered the darkened house, your steps followed by the crunching of the paper scattered across the hardwood flooring. With a flick of a switch, the house was bathed in yellow lighting, highlighting the paper taped to every surface possible in your home. You took a glance over your shoulder to look at Steve who looked both confused and also worried but seemed to be holding his tongue.

“Do you want anything to eat?” you shouted from the kitchen.

“We don’t have much right now, but there is fruit, some frozen waffles, some chocolate ice cream-”

“(Y/n), are you okay?” Steve’s close voice cut you off.

You closed the freezer door shut and turned so that your undivided attention was given to him. His hands were tucked into his front pants pockets, the sleeves of his jacket pushed up to his elbows. His right shoulder knocks against the side of the fridge, and his eyes hold empathy within.

Your fingers fidgeted with your coat sleeves, “What-what do you mean?” You stuttered out.

“You seem tense about something, and no one else is around, it’s just me. I’m a shoulder you can lean on,” his voice was hushed.

You wanted to take that offer so badly, just having someone that isn’t your family that you could express your every thought to. Someone who would understand your anxiety about this whole mess that’s ruined your lives. And you so badly wish you could just tell Steve ‘I’ve had a crush on you since eighth grade and watching you with Nancy twist the knife further into my bleeding heart, but I can’t say any of that because you love Nancy and I’m not even close to what she is.’

You looked away from Steve’s penetrating gaze, “I’m- I’m okay, just tired right now,” and you headed off to the hallway and into your room. You sorted through your draws, picking out a shirt that Steve could wear to sleep, and then you made a quick trip to Jonathan’s room and looked for a pair of sweatpants or gym shorts he could use.

“Are you avoiding something, Byers?”

You jumped from Steve’s voice, “Jesus,” a hand over your heart, “Don’t do that. And no, I’m getting you clothes to sleep in. You don’t want to sleep in your Levi’s I suspect.” You handed over the shirt and old gym shorts to Steve’s chest.

“You can change in the bathroom,�� and you shut the door of your room.

You released a sigh, a hand brushing through your hair. You rushed in switching your jeans to your plaid pajama pants and threw on an old ratty shirt that used to be Jonathan’s. You thought about the sleeping arrangement and decided to just tough it out and share the bed with Steve, and if he was uncomfortable with that, you would just sleep in Jonathan’s room and give Steve your bed for the night.

Light knocking on your door broke the silence, “come in,” you called to Steve.

Steve opened the door, his head popping in first, “Is this your shirt?”

You were confused by the question, “Yeah, why?”

When Steve fully walked into your room it was like a dream come true. His hair was more fluffed and loose, strands curling and bending, his hand tucking through the strands in a nervous gesture. The shirt you gave him hugged his biceps and stretched over his chest, and with him having a longer torso than you the shirt ended up being a crop top on him, the bottom ending a few inches above his belly button. And the shorts sat low on his hips giving you the full view of Steve’s lower half and the hair leading from his belly button to down below the seams of the shorts. You gulped at the sight, but it didn’t stop there, his thighs were on display. His thighs, with thick dark coarse hair covering every inch to the very end of his legs. His sock-covered feet carried him to your dresser, his back leaning against the wood, “You think I could just sleep without a shirt?”

You almost choked on your saliva at the question, but obliged, “Ah, yeah, if it’s more comfortable for you.”

And he immediately grabbed the back of the shirt and pulled it over his head, his chestnut-colored hair being fussed with even more. And now his full chest was on display for you and you had to burn this moment into your memory in case you never get another opportunity for this. Subtly, you left a hand around your mouth to make sure it wasn’t open and catching flies.

“Uh, uh, we can- we can share my bed if- if you’re okay with that. I could sleep in Jonathan’s room if you’re not.”

“No, it’s fine. Better to stay together, you know.”

Steve walked to the side of your bed that was empty and threw the covers back before slowly sliding onto the mattress. You stayed sitting over your covers on your side for a moment, just staring at your dresser, having to keep your heart steady. You honestly might combust after tonight. With hurried movements, you got under the covers and recovered yourself, one hand under your pillow and the other gripping onto the blanket. With nothing between you and Steve, it’s almost like you could feel his breathing, every intake and every exhale he took. The heat of his back being a touch away from you, was agonizing.

It was gonna be a long night.

…

You were only ten.

You were only ten and Will was only seven at the time. Jonathan was eleven that year, but he wasn’t home that day. Joyce was at work doing overtime and Lonnie was watching you and Will after school that cool autumn day. Your friend Tessa was staying after school that day, her dad called earlier and made sure it was okay with your mom or dad. Lonnie answered and said it was fine as long as she was picked up by eight-thirty, nine at the latest. So you, Will, and Tessa played in the backyard for about an hour before heading into the house for warmth.

Will went to his room to color in private since he wasn’t comfortable showing his work around people he didn’t know. You and Tessa sat on the floor leaning against the side of your bed, your door closed all the way, something you weren’t allowed to do. It was always supposed to be just a crack. The two of you were listening to the new Donna Summers album Joyce was able to gift you for your birthday. The two of you bobbing your heads to the lyrics and production, losing yourselves to Mrs. Summers and forgetting about reality.

When the last song on side A finished, you moved the needle, and delicately flipped the record to side B, letting the needle touch the edge, a new song playing after a second. You looked over at Tessa, she was nodding and swaying her head to whatever song was playing. Her hair caught in the light, strands of her dark brown hair turning caramel, and a faint halo glittered over her head. Her eyes were closed and she had a dainty smile, her plush pink lips, her cheeks flushed with a faint rose on the apples. She looked so peaceful, just sitting with you and listening to music in your room.

She looked beautiful.

“Tessa,” your voice was a whisper.

She stopped her sway and opened her eyes to look at you. It’s like she had diamonds glittering within her pupils, they shone when she looked your way. It made you feel like a miner in the dark tunnels and you were the only one who struck the jackpot, the diamonds only shining for you, no one else was able to see their beauty.

Your actions happened before you had time to thoroughly process them. You leaned on one hand while the other reached out and rested against Tessa’s cheek, the pads of your fingers caressed her supple skin. And when it appeared she wasn’t afraid of what was happening, you took it further. You slowly leaned forward, giving her time to push you away, but she didn’t, and as your breaths were mixing, you gave her one more chance.

“If this isn’t something you want, just push me away,” your eyes look into hers.

A hand touched the point of your jaw where it met your earlobe, “I’m good,” and she closed the space.

The both of you were pretty inexperienced when it came to kissing, you were only ten after all. You stayed with your lips touching for a minute or two before Tessa got a bit bold and moved her mouth, her head tilting so her nose rested more against your cheek. She tasted sweet, like strawberries and lemonade, it made you crave more of her.

Just as you were leaning your body closer into her, the door to your room slammed open. The two of you pulled apart and your dad stood in the doorway, completely still and calculated. The flexing of his hand around the doorknob and the other flexing into a fist told you already, that he was furious.

“Tessa, your mom is here early.”

Tessa scurried from the floor and rushed out of the room to grab her stuff from the dining table. Lonnie pointed a finger at you, “You wait here,” and he left to see Tessa out and wish goodnight to her mother. You already knew what you were in for. Your heart was racing, a tremble started throughout your body, and you had to pull your knees into your chest to keep yourself together.

When you heard the sound of the door shutting louder than needed and the stomping of his feet coming down the hall, it was too late to run. Lonnie stood in the doorway, one hand on his hip and the other running over his face, rubbing against the scruff of his beard. His eyes were closed and a hollow chuckle left his mouth.

“I don’t know how I fathered two f***. With all the discipline I give to you kids, and it still somehow seeps its claws into you.”

He sighed and walked further into the room, darkness shadowing his eyes. You weren’t prepared when he leaped for your feet and yanked you hard, your head smacking against the carpet. He dragged you down the hallway, your nails trying to find an opening to grasp onto, your heart pounding out of your rib cage. With Jonathan not here, you knew he was about to give you the worst beating.

Tears were streaming down your face and sobs hiccuped from your throat, “I guess I gotta give you a good lesson. And no big brother around for protection.”

When you got to the living room he threw your legs onto the floor, and you tried to crawl away. A sudden pressure against your spine made a screaming sound out through the house. “Ah, no getting away.” You heard the metal of his belt as he unclasped it, the strain in the leather from the pulling.

You begged and pleaded through a sore throat and snot bubbles, pleading for forgiveness and saying how you’ll never do it again. But he didn’t care. He pulled the back of your shirt up and threw the belt down hard. Your cry of pain being covered by another noise of leather hitting your skin, fire running through your body. Before you could pull in a puff of air, the belt came down again.

“If I,” fire, “ever,” another flair, “see you,” the echo bounced against the walls, “kissing,” your breath caught in your lungs, “another girl,” the foot on your spine dug deeper, “you’re dead.”

He gave you a moment, this one moment to breathe, allow your skin to sting even more against the air, and your one chance to give him the answer he wants to hear.

“Do you understand? I won’t have any f*** under my roof. I’m already dealing with the fairy Will, I don’t need to hear about you running around town and kissing girls.”

You choked on your cries and sniffled past the snot bubbles forming, “I won’t do it again, I- I- I pro-mise.”

…

When you bolted upright you could still feel the stinging and burning sensation flaring over your back, like you got the beating at that moment. Your skin felt sticky with sweating building on your body, your sleep shirt, and pants clinging to your body. Strands stuck to your face and probably look frazzled. With a hand going over your face you could still feel the tear tracks that fell from your eyes and down your cheek, the stains evident on your shirt.

You looked over at Steve, his back still facing you and moving slowly. The quiet snores leaving his mouth told you he was fast asleep, and none the wiser to your dilemma. You allowed yourself to stare at him, the darkness hiding your wandering gaze and the longing within you.

When you feel the desire to reach out to him is when you remove yourself from the bed and tiptoe out of the room. You did a quick check into Joyce’s room and snuck out a carton of cigs. You did your usual routine when it came to nightmares, wake up in a sweat, quietly leave the house, go outside to the backyard and lay down, and stare at the stars. But now you’ll be smoking because it wasn’t a fake scenario, it was a memory of one of the few beatings your father inflicted on you.

You told yourself you would refrain from smoking, weed or not, but sometimes you can make an exception. You sat on the steps that lead outside, cigarette between your lips and lighter flickering on. The burn of the nicotine in your lungs honestly felt nice at this moment. An exhale of smoke clouded your vision, blurring the stars and the forest before your eyes. The sounds of crickets singing and the snapping of twigs in the forest filled the silent void.

It wasn’t long until the sound of the back doors opening and closing told you that Steve had woken up. You heard his feet padding down the steps and left his body sitting beside you. He didn’t say anything and you chose to speak first, just the sound of you inhaling.

“So…” Steve chose to speak, but it seemed he didn’t think first, “you smoke now?”

You grin, “surprised?”

“A little, is that why you hang out with Munson?”

“Okay, first of all, he’s my friend, and second…I did go to him for weed at first.”

“Wow, little Byers knows how to handle her weed.”

You inhaled again, “Yeah, well, when you have dreams that make it impossible to get even an hour of sleep, you have to resort to other options.”

You continue to just stare at the woods, fresh air, and nicotine mixing.

“Are nightmares still happening?”

You nodded, “it was better for a while, no new Demogorgon nightmares, but today, I suddenly had a memory instead of a nightmare.”

“What- what kind of memory? If- if you want to share.”

You were too tired to care about being nervous or sharing something like this with Steve, but you needed to let it out. So you took one more inhale of the dying cigarette. You held the smoke in your lungs for almost thirty seconds and let a shaky exhale of smoke out.

“It was when I was ten, I had a friend over at my house, a girl. And something in me just decided to kiss her that day, like something was in the air or whatever. My dad walked in on the two of us, and when she left he came back to my room. He dragged me by my ankles into the living room and beat me on the back with his belt. Called me a f*g and poked insults at Will. Said if he ever heard about or caught me kissing another girl, I’m dead. First of three beatings he ever gave me.”

You stubbed out the cigarette beside you on the steps, debating if you should light a new one after recounting the horror to Steve. With a look in the direction of Steve, since he was being so quiet during the whole thing, you were struck by his eyes that were holding so much sympathy it made you a little uncomfortable. It suddenly hit you that you just told Steve about a core memory about your first kiss and first beating, only one of those things worries you about his reaction.

“Steve, do you hate me because I happen to like girls?”

Now he looked shocked by your admission, “What? I-“

“Well, when you were fighting with Jonathan that day in the alley, you did call him…” you trailed off, knowing Steve got what you meant.

“I was…I was angry and pissed that day. I didn’t- I didn’t mean what I said,” he sighed. “I…My parents told me multiple times that if people weren’t upper class, didn’t have a family, didn’t have the quote-on-quote ‘white picket fence life,’ they would be messed up. That if they exercised abnormal behavior, they were a stain on the planet, on this town. And it included…”

“Liking someone of the same sex.”

“Yeah, and I used those thoughts when I was angry that day, using the rumors people spread of your family around town and school. And I saw how scared you looked when Carol started to taunt you, mentioning Tessa Anderson. So I just wanted to tell you, completely, that I don’t see you differently. You are still the badass and quiet (Y/n) Byers that I know and I’m forever glad we became friends. And I’m still sorry for what I said to Jonathan that day and in general, and I’ll be picking up those broken pieces for the coming years.”

You didn’t know what to say in response to his little speech, all you could think of was, “You’ve really matured over the past year.”

Steve let a snort out at the comment. You drank up the sound of his quiet chuckling, something you want to bottle up forever and keep tucked into your mind. With his eyes closed, it allowed you to admire his beauty in the moonlight, light bouncing off his hair, gliding over the planes on his face, the slope of his nose. He looked like a marble statue, something crafted with gentle and patient hands.

His warm, calloused hand rested on your shoulder, “We should head inside, try and get a bit of sleep.”

Picking up the pack of cigs and the lighter you stood from your stoop, Steve standing a second later and heading to the doors. Ever the gentleman he is, waiting for you to enter the screen door before following then taking the house door into his hands. You quickly went to Joyce’s room and replaced the missing items. When you turned to leave you saw that Steve was just leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, feet crossed at the ankle and his head hitting the frame.

“Are you a lost puppy all of a sudden?” you joked.

You saw a smile, “no, just felt weird to be in your room without you.”

“Oh. Well, we can go back now.” You walked closer to him, “oh, also, did I wake you up?”

He looked confused, “I mean, did me leaving the bed or room wake you up before you came out into the backyard?”

He softened at your question, “no, I was fast asleep. I woke up ‘cause it started to feel cold and the bed felt a bit empty. And when you weren’t beside me I got a bit worried and went looking for you.”

‘He’s gonna be the actual death of you’

“Oh. Well, I should be fine the rest of the night. And I’ll be quiet if I shuffle around my room in my tired state.”

He stopped you before you left Joyce’s room, “if you have another bad memory or nightmare, just… wake me up, okay? I’m here for you.”

“Uh, yeah, okay. And the same goes for you, just wake me up if something happens.”

And the two of you headed off back to your room, not another sentence between the both of you for the rest of the night. Steve with his back facing you again and you just stared at the ceiling until your lids became too heavy and you succumbed to the darkness. And thankfully it was no horrible memory from youth or a traumatizing Demogorgon killing your loved ones, no, it was a sweet and peaceful dream, one that you will keep to yourself.

…

“Rick sure was giving us a scrutinizing look.”

“We did ask for almost ten pounds of meat, (Y/n).”

“Again, thank you Steve for paying.”

The next morning when you and Steve met up with Dustin at his house and then made a quick stop at the butcher to get bait for Dart, that’s what Dustin insisted upon calling it. When you got to the woods that are close to the train tracks which lead to the junkyard, Steve began unloading supplies while you and Dustin grabbed rubber gloves.

“This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?”

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” he was giving full sarcasm to Lucas.

“Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.”

“Hey, don’t call Erica stupid,” you blurted out, Lucas probably not even hearing.

“Well, when you were having sister problems, Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby Demogorgon.” “Wait. What?”

“I’ll explain later. Meet me, Steve, and (Y/n) at the old junkyard.” “Steve?” Lucas sounded surprised.

You looked over at Steve, he was stuffing the nail bat into his bag along with the gasoline and threw it over his shoulder then slipped the last pair of yellow rubber gloves. He seemed to be ignoring the whole conversation.

“And bring your binoculars and wrist rocket.”

“Steve Harrington?” Lucas had to ask for confirmation.

Steve slammed the trunk shut and you bent down to grab one of the three buckets of meat. The weight of it already gives a light strain on your shoulder.

“All right, let’s go,” Steve sounded out.

The three of you left the BMW and headed into the woods.

“Just be there, stat. Over and out,” and Dustin rushed off to be next to Steve leaving you walking behind the two boys.

-----------------------

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*strike through means tumblr cant find your account*

#The Byers Harrington Story #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x byers!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #reader insert #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things series #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #stranger things self insert

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warmbloodedzines · 2 months

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new zine from me (mordecai)! xalli and i actually hung out in person for the first time yesterday (which was amazing and so so lovely) and hir neocities reminded me that i posted a zine recently on my own that i never posted here. it didn't get posted until very recently because i wanted to wait for permission from the friend whose face appears in it :] i hope you all enjoy!

Transcript:

A mini-zine with 8 pages. The first page is a cover, and has a red and yellow door on it with the title "Red Door, Yellow Door" in all caps and the subtitle "a zine about middle school girlhood."

Page 2: If you had asked 12-year-old me whether she thought of herself as a horror person, despite her penchant for Stranger Things and creepypastas, she would have said: "No!" (The word "No" is large and appears in a speech bubble next to a photo of my younger self.) But in the fall of 2018, I began a steady obsession with theghostinmymachine.com (appearing as a screenshot of a web address), one of the only unblocked sites on my school laptop where I could spend hours reading the spooky content I craved so much.

Page 3: One post in particular stood out to me, where the author gave instructions on how to play a game called "Red Door, Yellow Door." You were supposed to play with at least one other person, assigned as "The Guide." They would rub your temples while chanting: "Red Door, Yellow Door, any other color door." (The chant appears in all caps in a speech bubble attached to a drawing of a hand.) This was meant to draw you into a trance-like state, guiding you through the rooms and hallways of your mind.

Pages 4-5: Once in this state, you were supposed to be able to dreamily describe what you saw, ideally at least one door that you could walk through. Some doors would be locked, and if you couldn't find a key, it meant you weren't ready to see whatever was behind. The goal was to travel through your own mind, watching out for clocks, a man in a suit with a briefcase, an elderly woman, rushing water, a staircase leading downwards, or any other people at all. If those appeared, the guide needed to wake you immediately, at any cost—shaking you, splashing you with water, or screaming to wake up. (This page also includes several collage-like pictures of doors, clocks, and a picture of my younger self and a friend I played this game with.) This was exacty the kind of thing i hungered for at that age, and I was quick to suggest the game at every sleepover I went to, most of which involved the same friendgroup of girls (although, of course, not many of us still identify as girls). Our love for the game was so intense that we started playing at recess, too. While most of us had trouble sinking into a trance,

Page 6: one friend of mine didn't seem to struggle much at all. She spoke in an entirely different voice than she did when she was fully conscious, describing in great detail how each door or room instinctually "felt" to her and occasionally becoming fully unresponsive, at which point we would shake her awake again. Her mind had a depth we didn't quite know how to plumb. When I was "under," I was fully conscious of this fact, and was unable to divorce it from my experience. Others couldn't "go under" at all. (The bottom of the page has a collage of an eye behind pictures of doors.)

Page 7: (This page has another collage, of an eye behind a golden snake made of a house colored with white ink for scales.) Despite this, I found that my mind, too, was full of wonders, even if I knew they were a figment of the imagination—I watched from the bottom of a sinkhole as the boy I liked tilted his head down at me from a cliff far above, ran barefoot through hotel hallways carpeted in warm, breathing velvet, and raced across a large yellow snake as it billowed in the sky like a cloud. (There is a drawing of a snake here.) Of course, at this point, I haven't "gone under" in years, but I still marvel at the game's ability to draw

Page 8: us in so completely. I don't think there was anything sinister in our fascination with our own psyches. I think it was just an attempt to understand ourselves, cloaked in intrigue and horror. (There is a drawing of a red door in a great field.) I miss those days. But I know that one day, I'll return to those gaping sinkholes and great golden skies. (There is a dotted line, and underneath, some drawings of stars and a picture of me saying "Thank you SO much for reading!" as well as the date 6 May 2023 and mordecaialba.com) (End transcript)

#zines #zine #creepypasta #art #comic #submissions #mordecai

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slyersky · 2 years

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Stiles x Reader - Friendly flirting

(A/N): I tried to make this as gender-neutral as possible. I wanted to make this shorter than the stuff I usually do but it was a nice way to relax and get some old ideas out and think I started word vomiting a little-

I’m sorry if the characters are OOC, I’ve never written anything Teen Wolf related in my life and after watching, like, barely one and a half seasons, my friend encouraged me to start writing fan fiction about it. Being the good friend that I am, who is also horrible at telling people no, I did as they said. I hope it’s not too bad… Enjoy! :)

Content: Reader is a flirty little shit, Stiles gets flustered easily, slightly suggestive themes, short mentions of blood (nothing major)

Words: 2,700

“(Y/n),” Stiles tried to get your attention. His attempt was futile, leaving you with a fork loosely hanging in your hand without having eaten anything yet and your mouth slightly agape. It was lunchtime and you were sitting across from him and Scott. Not a word had left your mouth since you guys sat down. You just started spacing out, staring at your friend with a blank expression.

You probably didn’t even know you were staring at him, so lost in thought that your eyebrows were slightly furrowed. God, he loved the look on your face when you were in a world of your own. Where no one could reach you and you were all to yourself, able to think about anything you wanted. Stiles wondered what you were thinking about this time.

Occasionally, you even bit your lip, a very common habit of yours. You did it so often that your lips had grown a little chapped. He couldn’t help but pity your lower lip for the abuse it went through on a daily basis. He remembered that it had started bleeding once during one of the times the two of you studied together. You had been so concerned and stressed about upcoming exams that you kept biting, completely unaware of what that might bring. Stiles wasn’t going to lie, he always grew a little nervous when you did it. Not in a bad way though, of course not. He had to admit when you didn’t do it to the point of self-harm, it looked kinda hot.

But for now, he wanted you to eat instead of spacing out. There wasn’t much time left before you had to go back to class, so he tried to get your attention once more.

“Hey! -”, Stiles snapped his fingers in front of your face- “Earth to (Y/n)!”

Snapping out of your trance, your eyes focused on his fingers and then the face behind them. You shot him a sheepish smile and quickly began eating. Oh, how much he loved that smile. It was so warm and pure. It always seemed like you were smiling just for him, it made him feel special. Was it obvious that he thought you were beautiful?

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare at you.”

“It’s fine. What were you thinking about?”

Now your smile formed into a smirk. You leaned a little closer to him and lifted your fork to vaguely draw circles in the air in front of his face.

“Oh… You know…-“ a small chuckle escaped you, even though you tried to hide it- “Just you and your perfect, adorable,… annoyingly beautiful face.” You winked and went back to your normal sitting position again. A short laugh escaped you as you watched Stiles’ face turn red in embarrassment. Scott, who was sitting next to him, only sighed.

“Get a room, you two,” he groaned, which made you laugh again.

“C’mon, Scott! You know I’m just messin’ with ya,” you were right. You were only messing around when you let out flirty comments and pick-up lines. Stiles had known that for as long as he had been friends with you. He remembered the first things you said to him like it happened yesterday.

— — —

“Uh, hey… Do you have a pencil sharpener?”, Stiles turned around to meet your gaze. You were holding up your pencil, its’ tip had broken off while you were trying to write with it.

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Gimme a second…. Here.”

“Thanks. -”, you took it from his hand, fixed your pencil and handed it back to him with a smile- “Man… Without you, my life would be a lot like my pencil…pointless.”

Stiles had to suppress a laugh to not get looked at by their teacher. You grinned as he failed to contain a chuckle. He didn’t quite know if you were being serious but according to the look on your face, you weren’t trying to flirt. Even if you were smirking now.

“By the way, the name’s (Y/n)…”, you held out a hand to shake his, which he accepted.

“Stiles… Nice to meet you.”

— — —

Friendly flirting was another common habit of yours, not that he minded. Sometimes it was nice to hear those little compliments, even though he doubted that you actually meant them. He hoped you did. At least every now and then. If you complimented him so often, you must’ve somewhat liked him, right?

The ringing of the school bell made Stiles come back to reality. You made a panicked face and shovelled as much food into your mouth as you could without having to choke. In the end, you did end up choking but at least you were done with your meal. You groaned quietly as you put away your tray together with the other two boys.

“Jesus, maybe you should slow down next time, (Y/n)...”, Stiles commented with a concerned look.

“What can I say...? Maybe choking is just my thing?”, you winked and almost started laughing at the reaction of your friends. Before any of them could say anything you dashed off and yelled that you would see them in class.

——

A long sigh escaped you as you slouched down in the chair you were sitting in. Nothing was as boring as studying for a maths test, even if you were doing it with a friend. With your textbook in your lap and a pen in your hand, you started writing another equation on a sheet of paper.

“Why does this suck so much?”, you mumbled to no one in particular.

“Because there’s nothing fun about it…?”, a response came anyway. You spun your chair 180 degrees and then came to a halt to look at your friend, who was sitting on his bed. He was concentrating on solving his equations as well, book laying next to him, his notes propped up on his leg and his pencil tapping against his cheek.

“That’s one way to put it…”, you huffed and turned the chair around again. At least the two of you were almost done for the day, with only a few more math problems to go through. You wrote down a few equations and then quickly made matching graphs for them so you were able to compare them.

Stiles looked up from his work after he finished to check on you for a second. You mostly had your back turned to him, slightly turning the chair from left to right now and then. You had propped one elbow on the desk and laid your chin in your hand as you scribbled more stuff onto your paper. A strand of hair fell onto your face and you quickly blew it out of the way, only for it to fall back to block your vision. He had to stifle a laugh at your slight annoyance, you were just as beautiful as always. He noticed that you were back to biting your lip in thought. It already looked irritated.

“Hey. No biting.”, he commented and you shot him an annoyed glance.

“Yes, mom.”, you sassed back with a high, childish voice. However, you did stop biting. Good. Stiles didn’t want to run into the bathroom to get a bunch of tissues. The boy admired you for a few more seconds until you spoke up again.

“You like what you’re seeing?”, you smirked as you saw how his cheeks turned a little red out of the corner of your eye.

“I was just thinking that you’re taking an awfully long time to finish… If you keep this up we’ll be sitting here ‘till midnight.”, Stiles tried to quip back. You turned the chair once again and playfully threw an eraser at him.

“I’m going to go extra slow now just because you said that.”

“Noooo… Don’t do this to meee… It’s gonna be so boring!”, Stiles dramatically let himself fall back onto his bed. With an exaggerated sigh, he let an arm fall over his eyes. He heard you chuckle and then continue to work. However, it didn’t take long until he heard you set down your pen. A slight squeak of the chair gave away that you got up from your seat. He could feel the mattress dip next to him.

“Boring…? You’re lucky I’m done. And… I think I have something in mind that will be quite entertaining for us…”, still keeping his eyes covered he felt you move around on the bed until there seemed to be pressure next to both sides of his head. This was weird, what were you doing…?

Removing his arm from his face, he looked up at you. Your arms were trapping his head in between them and your legs were on either side of his waist, pretty much straddling him. Your hair was dangling down, framing your face perfectly as a mischievous smile spread across your lips.

“Woah- Wh-what are you doing…?”, the boy underneath you had trouble catching his breath, the question came out as barely more than a whisper.

“Isn’t it obvious?”, you leaned down a little. Your faces were almost touching and you could clearly see his face grow red once again and his eyes looking anywhere but yours.

Before he could say anything you let your body go limp. Without a warning you fell onto the bed with an exhausted sigh, halfway trapping your poor friend underneath you.

“What the hell, man!”, he let out a string of curses as he struggled to heave you off of him. You only let out a hearty laugh as you closed your eyes and relaxed. His bewilderment slowly started to subside while annoyance took its place.

“What? Sleeping is a good way to pass the time… Plus, all this studying was exhaaauuusting.”, you chuckled without opening your eyes. You didn’t notice how his demeanour changed.

“You’re so annoying…”, he huffed and got off of the bed. You turned onto your stomach and opened your eyes to look at him. Stiles grumpily sat down at his desk with his back turned towards you.

“Hey… What’s got your panties in a twist now?”, he didn’t answer your question. “C’mon, Stiles… You know I don’t mean these things…”

“That’s the problem,” he quipped back.

“…I’m sorry…?”, not sure what he meant, you sat up properly. You could tell that this was turning more serious than you would have liked it too.

“You act like all of this is some sort of joke. Did you ever take the time to think about the effect it has on others? Is any of this ever even serious to you? All you do is toy with people's feelings!”, Stiles avoided specifically mentioning himself, it would only make it more embarrassing for him. He glared at you over his shoulder. The boy watched you shrink in on yourself a little. You looked away from him and frowned to yourself. A bit of silence ensued.

Stiles slowly started to feel bad for snapping at you. This was just what you were like, how you showed affection towards others. And he never thought he would ever put you down for your personality. But it was frustrating. He knew that he could never have what he wanted and you just edged him on. Before he could say anything else, you finally broke the silence.

“You’re right… I was being an asshole. I know that most people take stuff like this very seriously, maybe I need to start doing that too. I’m… uhm… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy or hurt you.”, your voice was small. Avoiding any eye contact, you stood up from the bed and quickly grabbed your backpack. “I’m sorry that you had to put up with all that. I’ll just… It’s best if I leave now.”

Leaving the stuff that was still on his desk behind, you made your way out the door with your head held low. Stiles didn’t know what he had planned to achieve with his outburst but it certainly wasn’t this! Nooo no no. Letting you walk away would do more harm than good.

“Hey. Hey hey hey, wait. (Y/n) wait!”, he jumped up from his chair and leapt through the door. You were still on your way through the hallway and Stiles managed to catch up. He grabbed your arm with a little more force than he wanted to and made you stop in your tracks. He turned you around to face him but you looked down at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing you had ever seen.

“…Look… I shouldn’t have said that. I know this is not an excuse but I just got so frustrated…”

“No, it’s fine. I crossed your boundaries and made you uncomfortable. I get that you would get mad at that.”, you interrupted him.

“It’s…not just that…”, well, Stiles had started it now, he would not be able to back paddle. Was this even a good time to confess? Then again, when would he get the chance to talk about his feelings like this again?

“What do you mean?”, now you finally lifted your head to look at him. Were those… tears in your eyes? Were you upset because he had yelled at you? Or maybe because you thought you were annoying him? Whatever it was, the look in your eyes made his heart sink a little.

“Uh… I was frustrated… because you keep doing this whole friendly flirting thing. And I know that you’ll never mean those words the way I want you to. Because I’ve liked you for quite some time now and every time you compliment me I don’t know if there is actual honesty behind those words. And it hurts a little.”, now it was his turn to look away. He had to get it off his chest. Would that ruin their friendship? Probably.

“Shit, who am I kidding? It hurts a lot, actually. But I still listen and I still embrace it every single time because there’s this tiny glimmer of hope. The hope that you do feel the same, that you actually mean what you say.”, his hands were starting to gesture now. The silence was too loud, he needed to distract himself from it. You weren’t saying anything, just staring at him. What should he do? Should he keep talking?

“I guess what I’m trying to say… Is that I like you, a lot. And that I was hoping that you felt the same way, even though the odds of that are extremely low and I-“, Stiles was cut off by two hands grabbing his cheeks and pulling him downwards. You managed to shut him up by placing your lips on his. The kiss was short but he still felt breathless as you leaned away again. He could’ve melted into the floor right then and there. His face grew redder than he could ever imagine, making you laugh out loud. Finding the right words to say was hard, he stuttered out a few words that never correlated into a sentence.

“Oh no. I think I broke you.”, you laughed as you removed one of your hands from his cheek and wiped the tears that had gathered in your eyes before.

“Y-you did not.”, Stiles finally managed to protest. “But… does that mean…?”

“Yes, you idiot. I like you too. And to be clear, whatever compliments I gave you, I meant every single one of them. Although I have to admit that messing with you was pretty fun.”

The boy let out an exaggerated gasp and stepped away from you.

“I can’t believe it. I fell for someone so cruel that they would purposefully mess with someone’s feelings.”, he theatrically rested the back of his hand against his forehead and acted as if he faint like a Victorian lady.

“What can I say… I guess I must be quite the sadist.”, you wiggled your eyebrows at him and he only groaned.

“Nope, I’m not tolerating this anymore.-“, he stated playfully and wrapped an arm around your waist to drag you back to his bedroom. -“You’re gonna get your punishment for teasing me for so long.”

“Oh~? And what did have in mind, dear?”, you smirked as his face turned red once again. You could have sworn that steam was starting to rise from his head.

“Get your mind out of the damn gutter, pervert!”

#teen wolf #stiles stilinksi #stiles x reader #teen wolf fluff #gender neutral y/n #fanfic #sfw

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7serendipities · 2 years

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Freyja’s Falcon Flights

In my home practice, the Autumnal Equinox is a celebration of Freyr and Freyja, although that celebration often dovetails with both the Pleiades acronychal rising and Rosh Hashanah. Generally, I try to make something that has both apples and honey, drawing on the common themes. This year I made an apple spice cake in a spooky bundt pan, but with no honey due to the allergies of a household member. (Then I went back and made a honey-filled fairy cake, hold the spice, as you saw in the previous post, and there will be raw apples dipped in honey for tomorrow.) That was the main focus of my celebration: just food shared with my household, our household spirits, our ancestors, and the two deities of the occasion.

A few days previous, I did a journey to check in with Freyr and Freyja, to see what they wanted for their holiday, and that’s when I got the go-ahead to make the apple spice cake. I also asked about something that had been flitting in my head for a few weeks, which I was pretty sure had come from her. I’d had an inkling that she wanted something monthly from me, going forward — that she was finally ready to step up (or rather that I was finally ready for her to step up) and become more central to my practice. I had the term “Falcon Flights” rattling around in my head, as a sort of analogue to “Crow Calls”, but until I went to journey to her I didn’t know what that meant. I had sort of guessed that it was meant to be something oracular, in keeping with my Dark Moon rituals to Na Morrigna, and my previous Bright Moon rituals to the Eyes of Ra, but, nope. She wants me to write and share journey prompts. “Falcon Flights”, indeed.

This month is a little late, but for next year I’ll be doing these from equinox to equinox, on the waxing half moon before the solstice and the waning half moon after the solstice, so this will be the only one until next March, and they will only overlap with the Morrigna Dark Moons in August and potentially September (depending on the moon cycle). This year that waning half was the 17th, before the equinox, but I didn’t journey to see her and Freyr until after that (whoops!).

I also asked her what tarot deck she wanted to go with the runes (similar to how the Morrigna have a preferred tarot deck that I use alongside ogham), and she picked…. none of the ones I already had. We settled on the Dark Wood Tarot, by Abigail Larson and Sasha Graham, published by Llewellyn Books, and that got here yesterday, at which point I clarified a couple of things about this new endeavor via divination, and then… I got enormously sidetracked by my Way Opening celebration. After that, I just didn’t have the energy to do another journey (to test the prompt) and then write up a blog, so I apologized and begged off and here I am on Saturday night, writing it up now, instead.

Note: This journey prompt is based on cosmology used by my Seidr Guild, which was adapted from Hrafnar’s cosmology as written down in Diana Paxson’s book The Way of the Oracle. If you have your own method of getting to Freyja or Folkvangr, feel free to use that, instead! And I hope I don’t need to say it, but I’m only providing a prompt; you do this journey at your own risk. Try to do it safely, and practice good spiritual hygiene! This doesn’t have much of a lead-in or return, as it’s meant for a more advanced audience, so do whatever your usual routine is for trance and journey work: cleanse, shield, ground, center, etc. You could write out a longer script and then even record it, maybe, if you work better from an audio file than a written prompt. Make it work for you, and your practice! I’m just the messenger, not the keeper of orthopraxy.

Falcon Flight to Himingbjorg

(Prepare an offering for Freyja, and one for Heimdall, before beginning.)

Begin in stillness, and quiet, and darkness. Find your center, and align yourself with earth and sky. As you stare at the darkness behind your eyes, feel and see as mist swirls up from the ground, obscuring everything around you. After a moment, it begins to part, leaving you standing in a flowery meadow.

When you arrive in the meadow, take a moment to observe around you, turning until you see a path. At the entrance to the path are two shrubs, and as you move on that direction, you see trees as well. Shrubs give way to trees and undergrowth on either side of the path, getting taller and denser as you move onward, until they join overhead into an arch, forming a tunnel of trees that slopes downward, getting denser and darker.

Eventually, you notice that the path has become flat, and then it begins to rise. Now the trees are thinning again, branches giving way to brightness, and as the trees again give way to shrubs, you see a gate in front of a wide plain and beyond it, the great world tree. If you have any guides or guardians you wish to accompany you, ones who can join you in flight, call to them now, before you step through the gate and make your way towards the tree.

As you approach the World Tree, circle around it clockwise, until you see an opening beneath one of the great roots. Duck under this root and enter the tunnel beneath. There is hard dirt packed beneath your feet, and the entire tunnel seems to have been hewn from that same clay-rich dirt and sandstone. Not as many feet come this way — the floor is still rough in places, so watch your step as you continue forward. There are torches set into sconces in the rough hewn walls, and their light looks like fire but you feel no heat as we continue past, and you smell no smoke or pitch.

The tunnel curves gently and then begins to rise in a gradual incline, ending in a doorway, two huge stones on either side and capped with a third. Touch one gently as you step out into the fresh air — these are worn by the elements and smooth to the touch. If you look back to the entrance, you will notice that on this side, the tunnel leads into what looks like a large burial mound, standing alone in a large clearing, though the forest is slowly encroaching from all sides.

Smell the air — the pine sap scent is strong, and your nose can tell there is moving water somewhere nearby, even if your ears cannot yet hear it. Now you should continue, following a clear trail deeper into the forest. Your footfalls are muffled by pine needles, and the air seems still. The scent and after a while the sound of water is to your left as you walk, and after a short time, you arrive at a fork, with three paths to choose from.

One path curves to the left, and you can just make out a bridge over a creek in the distance. The one to the right seems to vanish into the trees. Continue down the middle path, which leads straight ahead. After a while, the trees seem to thin a bit, and the underbrush grows less tangled. There is a little smoke in the sky, above the rise of the hill, as though it comes from a hearth-fire, and you follow the path towards it.

As the path reaches the edge of the forest, and the pine needles give way to a large open field, your eyes are drawn to the great hall. It is large, and you know at once to whom it belongs. This is Freyja’s Hall, Sessrumnir, and you are in Folkvangr. Go and find the Lady of this place, and give her the offering you brought.

When she has accepted your offering, ask for the lend of her falcon cloak, that you might fly on to your next destination with her blessing. Place it on your shoulders, and hold still as she waves her staff over your head, completing your transformation.

Take off into the sky then, and fly! Fly for the sheer joy of it, swoop and roll. Higher and higher — but do not forget your ultimate destination. You seek the Bifrost, that you might follow it to Himingbjorg, Heimdall’s cloud-castle.

When you arrive at Himingbjorg, alight on the wall — Heimdall will help you regain your own shape.

Thank him, and then give him the offering you brought.

Once he has accepted it, you may ask one question and one question only, and he will show you what he can see from up here, and give you your answer.

When you are well answered, ask him to help you transform once more, and then return to Freyja, waiting for you on the ground.

After she returns you to your own form, give her back the cloak and thank her. If there is anything else you wish to say to her, do it now.

When you are ready to depart, go back the way you came: through the forest, to the mound, through the mound-tunnel and out from under the root, across the plain, and back to the gate, through the tunnel of trees, and back to the meadow. Then the mist will swirl up again, and take you back to your body.

#Falcon Flights #Freyja #holiday #journey work #Heimdall

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sanctificetur · 2 years

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historical AU. with Jess and Francis ( @starfalled )— paralleling to Sansa and Harry — RL visualiser being Alina and Nikolai. Series of poems or drabbles (which poem line could be meme prompts or could accompany relatable meme lines I already rb in meme tag ) : Could incorporate some remainder of ic/ ooc ( as I remembered the starting line & other random info of motivation ) dot points — as well as my playlist during our dance/war ++ (ex. astronomical, piano). I lost Francis’ Spotify link of he saw in me through his eyes — let’s see what I remember: when we were young, yellow, two of us). elements of my long drabble between them ; which probably was the primary motivating factor that Francis realises perhaps Jess is not lost forever & commencing/climbing back on the horse in a calm walk through the forest of hands and teeth (ref: similar to Morgana and her horse-riding & when the horse reared up on her). and I think when Francis went and listened to Jess’ love of jack savoretti, the harsh & beautiful rawness (ex. catapult, written in scars : ref possibly striking the muse spirit side of enjolras) really struck a chord in his soul to spark a progressing journey to not be in eternal guilt lockdown of queue : of the painful trauma trenches of SPN fandom but the love and passion of relating to dean — a reflection of themselves — yet getting to know Jess ++ himself better — he fused together a creation of Westley McCarthy — honouring past & present. also in a Borgias like setting in which my DVD arrives yesterday. Anyway, in here, they are probably not technically angel or demon in reality, but they just experience elements of such during their relationship. They both feel the other as well as themselves are the key reason for distress as well as salvation — which may seem strange to outsiders as they only knew each other for a handful of months — summertime sadness by Lana del Rey. They both feel the other keeps dancing around each other but not really touching during the earlier && more paranoid times. Like when Francis kept kicking Jess out of palace. And when Jess keeps doing her doll trance motions. “Here’s where you were mine. Here’s where I am yours — always.” What elements of Jess to keep: well, referencing about her aversion to hamsas & tally marks on her hands, that could tie into my Malachi ic post Link here — Jess could draw 👁 on her hands with ink. Which could tie into how she used to write reminders on her hands with ink in high school —- a dangerous habit of possible ink poisoning. But yet could also tie into the AU about her conflict of spirit — of human or monster? Hmm I might write a disjointed ongoing letter poem to Francis / Jess too just to more properly sort out my repetitive suspicion of hurting myself on my handwritten diary, during my calmly living life. Handwriting is an important accompaniment to digital, as not to get lost in the void of machination, even though with technology, you absolutely do write with your soul as well as head — it is just more difficult to know your limit. Anyway, random direct paging is the most important thing — direct communication in which I assume Francis is also trying to do with his new canvas of handwritten and digital — and sorting through his own mess of a mind in his own self validated manner. The months of rose-tinted dance however are not a waste of heart and energy, and just to navigate through their own time & pace within their whirlwind body & soul of: should I trust them or not?? like what Francis said as Dean, “There’s a book in the vaults.”

#starfalled #Francis x Jess.#writing.

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clouds-rambles · 3 years

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hey bestie i was hoping to request xiao, venti, childe and zhongli where the the reader and the character have just had an argument + the reader needs time to calm down from the argument. omg maybe the reader comes back with a gift to apologise

Ask and ye shall receive <3. I’m the kind of person who needs time to relax and process the situation after an argument. I’m always too worked up (read angry) to kiss and make up straight after an argument.

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

Warning(s); breif mention of a wound, alcoholism, swearing

Keep reading under the cut!

Xiao

You’re probably being too harsh on the guy

You had just come back from a tough mission with a few more scrapes than you normally come back, a nasty cut in particular situated on your shoulder was what caused the argument to kick off in the first place

In hindsight the argument started from Xiao’s concern of you getting hurt worse but you were too tired from the commission to really read it as concern

But boy now do you feel bad. You both went your separate ways for the evening and in the morning you still haven’t caught sight of your partner. You eventually go around Wangshu Inn and ask if they’ve seen Xiao.

You get told that he’s out for the day, apparently he caught wind of something manifesting in the mountains. So, you suppose that it’s high time to make an apology gift

And what’s a better apology gift than your partners favourite food? Because your arguments are often few and far between you don’t mind making Xiao almond tofu since it’s not something you’ve associated with apologising

Though you’re aware that the sweet snack means nothing if you’re not sincere with your apology.

So what’s more sincere than sitting at the highest balcony of Wangshu Inn and wait for Xiao. You don’t mind how long it takes for him to come back just as long as you get to apologise

He comes back just after dusk and you pour your apologise profusely and tell him you understand that he was coming from a place of concern

Xiao is a little distant a short while after the apology but soon you’re reassured that he accepts it when he places his hand on the table for you to take hold of

The two of you sit in silence sat hand in hand while Xiao eats his tofu

You watch him eat with a grin on your face, sometimes just watching the Yaksha sit still and do his thing is enough to keep you in a trance for the evening

Venti

Maybe you got into an argument because you’re concerned over Venti’s drinking habits, sure he’s an immortal god but doesn’t he worry about his liver?

Sure the argument started because you’re worried about the archon but boy does he make you angry with his non-sensical thought processes

Venti is the kind of guy who wouldn’t let you leave without settling the argument

Even if the happy medium isn’t actually going to bring any change into the questionable drinking habits

But this argument just feels a little different, you’ve had the same conversation form months but nothing seems to change

You’re not even sure if Venti has actually listened to anything you have said to him about it

So you tell him “Do what you want, but you’re sleeping on the sofa tonight” yeah you just resigned him to sofa treatment. As much as you hate it you’re far too heated to just kiss and make up right now

So the night passes and you wake up with the cold space beside you, you’re confused until you remember the previous nights events

Though your unusual silence in the room doesn’t last long, you presume Venti sensed that you’re awake because you hear a knock at your bedroom door, you’re surprised that Venti is actually here and that he hadn’t sulked off to Windrise where you had originally planned to apologise to him

As you open the door you notice your partner stood before you with a bunch of hand picked cecelia's and dandelions and an apologetic look on his face

You’ve never known Venti to speak so fast he apologises profusely for causing you such worry and promises that he’ll try to drink less, he mentions that he doesn’t wish to give up his Friday and Saturday drinking nights but he’s willing to tone it down during the week if it stops you worrying

You thank him sincerely and find a vase to put the flowers in

You hug Venti and apologise yourself for being such a worry wart and causing such a big argument

“I’m glad I have someone to worry about me, I don’t know what I’d do without you” You can’t help but swoon at his flowery words and grin at him before the two of you start off the day

Childe

It’s a bad habit he has, when you try and talk about something serious with him he constantly cracks jokes at the situation. Which in its self isn’t the worse thing in the world, even you crack jokes to lighten the situation but at some points it goes too far

And today is too far, what started off as a disagreement about where you were going to eat lunch ended up in a full scale (mostly one sided) argument in Childes office about how he can’t take things seriously

You, of course, know this to be false. You’ve seen him in action against his foes and bank business but just in this moment when you are so angry about the situation those rational thoughts go out the window

And what does the bastard do? He cracks another fucking joke

“Is this what I am?” you ask finally reaching the catalyst of your temper “A fucking joke?”

And boy does the exclamation comes to a surprise to him. No matter how frequent your use of curse words you’ve never directed them at him so it catches Childe by even more surprise

“[name] I’m sorry I didn’-” he tries to apologise

“You didn’t fucking what Tartaglia? Want to make me feel like a joke? Cause you’ve been going down that road at every fucking disagreement we have” you cut him off in a fit of rage “Sleep in your own fucking bed tonight” you add before storming out his office

He tried to follow you out the bank before he was stopped by a fatui agent about some urgent debt collection, so he never got to apologise immediately

And that’s how the next couple of days go, you’ve taken most of the time to cool off and avoid anywhere Childe might be hanging about, your plan works better considering said harbinger was out of Liyue Harbour for a couple of days

Though on the third night Childe appears at your door, he doesn’t bring any gifts, just himself. Childe enjoys gifting things to you so he doesn’t want you or him to associate gift giving with apologies. You’re more than thankful for this

Childe apologises before you even have the chance to invite him in and takes your hand and wholeheartedly promises to try and not make jokes when you have a disagreement

You also apologise and agree that, in hindsight, you blew things out of proportion. You reassure him that he’s a hardworking man and that a few out of place jests make everything more bearable to him.

You invite him inside for some tea, your bed isn’t as cold as it was tonight

Zhongli

Disagreements with Zhongli never seem to get any further than that. The archon likes to listen to you vent your frustrations over a cup of herbal tea and usually that calms you down and everything is settled before supper

But every once in a while you’re a little high strung. For instance this time you’re running on a total of 5 hours sleep over the last 4 days. Sleep deprivation could possibly be your middle name at this point

The only thing you want to do when you get back from your restless trip from Mondstat back home is to just sleep the next few years

But the sweetie that Zhongli is he quizzes you about your great to horrific trip

Zhongli pulls all the stops he readys some dinner for you and draws a bath when you get back. He even gives you a small lecture about how you’ll feel terrible not washing before going to bed

But with your tired ears, eyes and brain it feels like a personal attack in your entire self “I’ve had it up to here with bloody hillichurls for 4 horrific days, all I want to do is pass the living hell out thank you”

Replace the bloodys with fucks and that’s probably more accurate to what you said

Zhongli is taken a little aback, being an older traditional man it’s unbecoming of anyone to use such sailor language. And thus the male lectures you about it

You take that as about as well as you expect, you don’t respond to him and favour walking out the room, barely getting undressed and collapsing on your shared bed

You wake up the next morning (though when you peek outside it seems like it’s after noon) disorientated. You don’t actually remember coming home the previous day

Then the memory resurfaces of you yelling at your spouse and regret washes over you

Surely the gift you had prepared for Zhongli would be good enough as repercussions of yesterdays outburst

You see Zhongli in the dining room, to the untrained eye he looks like he’s in a normal mood but to you, you can see his brooding emanating off of him. If you dare point it out Zhongli will deny that he even broods in the first place

He’s the first to greet you without turning around. Rightfully so, he’s still in a mood. So you just profusely apologise for your outburst

You explain that you were running on next to no sleep and while that doesn’t excuse your outburst it certainly explains it. If your spouse so wishes to ask how your trip was you would comply much more now since you’ve had a good sleep behind you.

You then change the subject to the gift in your hands, some rose tea. Something Zhongli had mentioned when you were courting all that time ago.

The man sits you on his lap and explains to you about how it was out of place of him to assume you’d be in a talking mood immediately after your travels. You reassure him that under normal circumstances you wouldn’t mind talking about it, you promise that you will do everything in your power to not let the previous night repeat

You then bring out his gift, rose tea, which he had mentioned wanting to taste a little while back, and before long you’re back in the cycle of Zhongli profusely explaining to you some random subject (in this instance rose tea) before you go off to make dinner where you finally share the details of your travels

Hope this is okay! <3 I kind of went a little ham with the Childe and Zhongli one in comparison to the other two hope you don’t mind lmao <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #reader insert #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #genshin xiao #venti x reader #genshin venti x reader #genshin venti #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin childe x reader #genshin childe #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli

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jueunnn · 3 years

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𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 : ̗̀➛ twelve. soobin, the angel, at your service <3

warnings ; the f word once, i think this is my record of least swear words in a chapter😭

the first bell signalling the start of the school day rang just as you set foot into the large building, your breakfast bagel held between your lips as your hands hurried to tie your hair back into a quick bun. with your mind occupied trying to keep your breakfast safely in your mouth whilst tying your hair as quickly as possible, you didn't notice beomgyu running up to walk beside you until he plucked the bagel out of your mouth, letting out a satisfied hum after taking a small bite.

"beomgyu! my bagel??" you said incredulously, snatching it back and stuffing the rest of it into your mouth before he could eat any more of it. beomgyu pouted playfully. "no good morning or anything? didn't peg you as the rude type, y/n."

"you're the one who commited petty thievery first, okay?? i don't greet criminals, thief." you retorted with your mouth still half full, quickening your pace to walk past him in attempt to conceal the small smile beginning to play on your lips. beomgyu groaned, jogging slightly to catch up to you. "oh, so now we're being discriminatory?" he protested and grabbed your arm gently. "i'll have you know that-"

confused as to why beomgyu had suddenly stopped mid-sentence, you looked up at him to see his widened eyes fixed on the end of the corridor, before he grasped your arm even tighter and dragged you into the nearest empty room. which just so happened to be the very cramped, very tiny storage closet. the door slammed shut behind you.

"what the hell are you doing, beomgyu?!" you hissed, turning in his direction to find his face mere inches from yours.

"wait, i'll explain, just... chill." beomgyu attempted to soothe your temper, a well practised hand tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. you gulped inaudibly and prayed to God that it was too dark in there for him to have seen.

"so, uh, i was just thinking." he began, a hint of nervousness edging his voice, "maybe it would be better if we kept us kinda... secret? to taehyun and yeonjun? they were coming towards us just now in the halls, figured this was the quickest way to hide."

you squinted at him, drawing back from the hand still playing with your hair. "what do you mean us, beomgyu? we're not dating. be more specific."

"y/n, we literally went on a date yesterday. don't play dumb."

"so you're not gonna up and leave me this time?" you pressed.

beomgyu's eyes shifted away from yours uncomfortably, tongue moving to poke the side of his mouth. "never meant to." his brown eyes flitted back to meet yours again. "just trust me, y/n. don't you feel like i've changed, too?"

this time it was your turn to break eye contact. "maybe... a little."

you heard beomgyu chuckle before his hand lifted your chin to look at him. he was definitely way too close for you to breathe properly, the dim lighting of the space only serving to emphasize the sharp lines of his face. why was it getting so hard to think? "so you agree then? no yeonjun or taehyun fucking us up?" he breathed. you nodded as though in a trance.

the corners of beomgyu's mouth perked up, seemingly satisfied by your answer.

"good choice, pretty."

𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 ; in which kim y/n is severely infatuated with notoriously flirty choi beomgyu, to her absolute rage. getting over a year long crush isn't going to be easy- but you bet your ass she's going to try. choi beomgyu himself, on the other hand, has very different plans. he's gonna try his very damn best to get the girl.

𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ; @atinyyylove @cha-raena @belovedgyus @pr0dbeomgyu @meiiiwa @chishiyas-backstory @hainaz @90s-belladonna @iuwon @00-baejin-05 @envy-brr @shinkailovebot @lokideadontheinside @loveliestfelix @vantaelic @247byun @milkycloudtyg @jiminaaaahhhh @msxflower @hwallswrld @urresidentdrugdealer @nshitae @youreverydayzebra @hyukmoon @moonchildmarauder @hobistigma @marscryingcorner send me an ask or comment to be added!! (bold couldn’t be tagged)

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#beomgyu smau #beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines #tomorrow x together #txt #beomgyu x reader #hyuningkai #soobin #taehyun #txt fluff #txt smau #yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun angst #beomgyu angst #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n

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adorethedistance · 3 years

Text

A Pretty Good Bad Idea - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: swearing, peer pressure kinda, very mild n fluffy

Words: 1865

Summary: Touring with the Julie and The Phantoms cast as a dancer has been the best time of your life, and the only thing that could make it better is the reciprocated affections of a cute, blond drummer.

A/N: So this piece is 1) inspired by this interview and 2) entirely self indulgent. It’s something I haven’t been able to get out of my mind every time I’m doing warm ups, and putting it down on ,, digital paper is my only way to get rid of it lmao. I hope y’all enjoy bc I know this scenario makes me really happy and I love sharing my joy with y’all.

I let out an involuntary whine when I roll forward into my almost-center splits. My hips are so sore from yesterday’s performance I had to force myself to start stretching in the first place. Getting a head start, I arrived at the concert venue an hour earlier than call time to get my lengthy stretching routine out of the way before the other girls show up. Slowly but surely, the rest of the dancers arrived and we began getting ready together.

“I have a speaker!” Tori announces to the room upon entering which makes me jump up from my seat.

“Yes! May I do the honors and bless y’all with my musical theatre playlist?” The rest of the group cheers, exposing themselves for the theatre kids that we are. After hearing the chime that signifies the speaker-phone pairing, a few seconds pass before “Cell Block Tango” begins to play. The entire group feigns outrage but we know all the words and soon indulge in such shameful pandering. A good pre-show playlist is what really gets me amped up for performing and after yesterday’s queue of ‘today’s hits’ pop, the musical theatre is a nice change of pace.

Since I’d gotten here so early, I decided to do my makeup before stretching and I still had time to spare. The only thing left for me to do was to get in costume but I’d wait until a little closer to showtime so that I could still eat and drink for the time being. This also meant I was free to roam and bother other people as they got ready, doing what I’d done almost an hour ago.

“So, Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“What’s going on with you and Owen?” I feel my breathing halt for a microsecond before looking up at, one of the other dancers and also my friend, Ella. My eyebrows are cinched in confusion as I try my best to figure out what it is she’s getting at.

“I don’t know, Ella. What is going on with me and Owen?”

“Oh come on. Your Instagram story from yesterday?” Oh. That.

“We just went to lunch?” I seemingly ask more than state.

“Yeah. Just the two of you. Don’t hold out on us, we wanna know what’s going on!”

“Really, Ella, there’s nothing going on. We’re just getting to know each other better.”

“Just getting to know each other better? Or getting to know each other better?” Tori butts in, dusting her cheeks with a subtle highlight.

“The first one?”

“How many times have you hung out?”

“Just the once.”

“Are you planning another date?”

“It wasn’t a date-”

“Do you want us to help wingman you?”

“I really don’t-”

“Hey.” The rapid-fire of questions cease when the gang of us look up to see Owen himself standing in the doorway.

“Speak of the devil,” Tori snickers as the rest of the girls slowly disperse and smugly resume doing their makeup. Owen makes a face in reaction to her comment but chooses not to pry.

“Could I borrow some hairspray? This one piece of hair won’t stay.” Despite each of the girls having a full can of hairspray on hand, nobody makes a move to give him the product, indicating that I should be the one to help him out. Rolling my eyes at the look Ella is giving me through the mirror, I stand from my chair and hand Owen the can of hairspray. He then looks straight ahead and moves to use the product but I stop him before he can.

“What’s your plan?”

“What?”

“Are you just gonna spray the piece?”

“...yeah?”

“That’s not gonna work since the rest of your hair already has product in it. Can I help you?” Owen nods amiably and takes a seat after I gesture for him to sit in my chair. I then realize my mistake as I need the comb on the grey countertop, and have to consequently reach past Owen in a way that wouldn’t be so compromising had I not worn such a low-cut top. Thankfully it’s over as fast as it began, and walking to the sink in the corner of the dressing room, I run the cool water over the bristles. It isn’t until I turn off the tap that I notice how eerily quiet the room had gotten. None of the girls are talking, attentively studying my every move as I cross back to Owen.

“Is this Chicago?”

“Uh, yeah, We’re listening to my musical theatre playlist though, not the whole soundtrack,” I respond in spite of the nervous laugh that falls from my lips. The slight slouch in Owen’s posture doesn’t help me to see what I’m doing clearly enough. Using my index finger and an upturned palm, I tilt his chin up to get a better look at his hair, willfully ignoring the fact that he’s staring at me right now.

Still, silence fills the room as I take the wet comb through the front section of his hair where the stubborn strand won’t stay put. Once the water binds the pieces together, I grab my can of hairspray and struggle to uncap it. The outside is slick from god knows what, but thankfully Owen doesn’t let me struggle anymore and holds up his hands to wordlessly offer his help. I hand him the can, and he pops the top off after barely struggling. Handing the can back to me, he holds onto the lid, and the entire exchange remains completely silent.

I have to work quickly in my next step, but it’s not enough to distract from the fact that everyone in the room is watching me intently. Holding the aerosol can away from the crowd of people, I put some of the product on the comb and quickly work it into Owen’s hair while it’s still wet. Once the comb has formed his hair to my liking, I stop brushing it through in fear of the now dry hairspray ruining the shape. Then, I use my left hand to shield Owen’s eyes from getting any product in them before spraying the offending area to seal in my hard work.

The sound of a cell door sliding closed signifies the end of the song, and I wait for a second, eagerly anticipating the next song to play. Upon hearing the staccato piano notes of “Bad Idea” from Waitress, a smile appears on my face.

“I love this song.” Lunging back on my right leg, I create a little distance between us to make sure I didn’t completely butcher the rest of his hair, singing as I do.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you.”

“I know, I totally agree.” Pleasantly surprised by his joining in, my smile grows bigger.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you.”

“I’ve never known anything so true-”

“It’s a terrible idea, me and you.” The effortlessness that the two of us find in harmonizing is a genuine shock and an absolute thrill all at once. Once Owen sees how excited I am by his joining in me, it’s like a switch had been flipped; the two of us immediately slip into Actor Mode and begin to sing the song as if we were performing it on a Broadway stage.

“You have a wife.” I take a small step back out of the character’s hesitation.

“You have a husband.” Owen mirrors my action.

“You’re my doctor-” I cross my arms across my chest, but release my right hand to gesture to Owen standing in front of me.

“You’ve got a baby coming-” He uses both hands to gesture back to me in my ‘pregnant’ state.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you,” the two of us turn slightly away from facing one another in false bashfulness. When the music picks up, the two of us avidly step toward one another to come together. In perfect synchronization, I grab Owen’s forearms and his hands face upwards to hold onto my elbows.

“Let’s just keep kissing ‘til we come to.”

“Heart, stop racing, let’s face it-” Owen pivots his step out to the side to face forward, extending his right arm which cues me to turn into him and take his other hand to spin out.

“Making mistakes like this will make worse what is already pretty bad.” Then he extends his right arm forward, and I turn into him once again.

“Mind, stop running. It’s time we just let this thing go.” Instead of spinning out again, I stop in front of him where he wraps both of his arms around me.

“It was a pretty good bad idea,” in our harmony I cast my gaze upward to see Owen staring right back down at me, and I feel like I’m seeing stars, “Wasn’t it though?”

The two of us continue dancing and singing with one another as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s only the two of us, here and now. The other girls in the room don’t miss the way I seem to smile like never before, and I sure as hell don’t miss the way my stomach fills with butterflies. When he holds me so close and dear for each intimate moment of the song, I’m seeing stars. A bold happiness consumes me, the same happiness I felt when Owen and I laughed over lunch in that small pizzeria.

The final harmony draws the song to a close and when it finishes, the two of us fall into a breathless kind of laughter.

“I didn’t take a big enough breath for that last part.”

“Me neither.”

“Your hair stayed intact.”

“I must have a pretty good stylist.”

After recovering from our laughter the two of us wind up in a palpable stupor as we stare into one another’s eyes. A few blinks and my trance is broken, I become aware of our surroundings.

“I should get dressed soon, and you definitely need to get dressed.” Owen nods still somewhat breathless.

“Yeah. See you later for pulse?”

“Save me a spot,” I joke as he backs out of the threshold of our dressing room. Leaning against the doorframe I watch him disappear into his assigned dressing room with a small smile still lingering on my features.

“Just getting to know each other my ass!”

“What the heck was that?”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to wingman you?”

“Do you even need a wingman after something like that?”

Turning on my heel, I face the bunch of insatiable dancers and shake my head in disbelief.

“We were just acting, you guys.”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“Maybe you were acting, but he sure as hell wasn’t. Did you see the way he was looking at you? He is totally in love with you.” Ella shakes me by my shoulders.

“He’s just a really good performer is all.”

“When is your next date?” she completely ignores me.

“Okay-”

“Oh, and I want to be the maid of honor at your wedding-”

“It was just a song, Ella.”

“-Oh my god you guys are gonna have the cutest kids! I mean, your hair with his eyes and cheekbones? Ahh! The cutest.”

***

A/n: the way that being on tour isn’t the most unrealistic part of this fic, but instead Owen actually knowing the lyrics is? Work diva.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayenneferburnham @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @celestialmolina @lilyjoyner

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

Text

the shrooms cafe

part 1- watermelon tea with strawberry boba

hello everyone 🥺 this is the first series i've ever done so i'm a little nervous but i'm so excited because I really like this story!!!

this is the first part, and I have literally no idea how long it will be because I don't have a solid plan/outline yet! so feel free to send little concepts or things you would like to see included 🥺 i can't guarantee they will be added but i'll definitely try my best :)

shrooms cafe masterlist

my masterlist

warnings: none

word count: 2k

"Stella, we have to leave in 10 minutes!" You called up the stairs. "Come down so you can eat breakfast!" "Yeah Stella, hurry up!" Seraphina yelled from her spot at the dining table. She was finishing up her fruit loops with a grin on her face. "You're going to make us late!" As the youngest, she often liked to bother her sisters. She was only five, just starting kindergarten, but she was already a master at getting under their skin.

"Sera, don't antagonize your sister, please," you reminded her. "She's not going to make us late." Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seraphina, you're so immature." Despite only being 11, Sophie was clearly the mother hen. You sometimes joked that the girls didn't even need you; Sophie would take on the role of their mother with no problem. "Besides, you were the one who made us late yesterday." "It's not my fault I couldn't find my purple socks. What was I supposed to do?" "Maybe wear different socks?" Sophie suggested smugly. "You know I need my purple socks, otherwise I can't write my words!" Sophie rolled her eyes again. "You don't need a certain color socks to write." "Yes I do!" You smiled to yourself, turning back to the fridge as the two bickered. You pulled out the ingredients you would need to make their lunches, then reached up on your tiptoes to get their lunch bags from the top of fridge. "Okay girls, what kind of sandwiches do you want today?" "Peanut butter and jelly!" Seraphina said excitedly. "Why did I even ask?" You smiled. "And Sophie?" "Turkey please, but I can make it myself," She said, sliding off her chair and bringing the breakfast dishes to the sink. "Thank you, love," you said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "You are such a big help in the mornings, I don't know what I would do without you." "You would have a real handful dealing with those two," She said matter-of-factly. "That I would," you laughed, handing her a butter knife. "Stella!" you called again. The 8 year old came running down the stairs, carrying her backpack and another bag. "Did you forget I have dance today?" "I did not forget," you reassured her. She liked to plan things, and got worried quickly if she wasn't kept in the loop. "I'll pick you up at the door by the playground, does that work?" "Actually, I was wondering if I could walk today? A bunch of my friends do, and I feel kind of weird having my mom drop me off." "That should be fine," You nodded. "But stay with the group, don't go off by yourself." "I won't," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're so overprotective." "Oh yes, I'm so sorry for trying to keep you safe," you laughed. "Now what do you want for lunch?" Once everything was ready, the four of you made your way out to the car. Stella climbed into the back, and Sophie helped Seraphina get buckled. Even though the three of them bickered a lot (as sisters often do) it wasn't hard to see how much they loved each other. "Everybody buckled?" You asked, looking behind you. When you heard a chorus of confirmation, you started your playlist and smiled when the opening notes of Adore You filtered through the speakers. It was easily one of your favorite songs, and the girls liked it just as much as you did. It wasn't a long drive to the cafe; it took about 15 minutes if traffic was good. The girls' school bus stopped about a block away, so they walked there together every morning. Then after school, they would come back to the shop and read books or finish homework until it was time to close up and go home. You parked in the lot behind the shop, helping the girls out of the car and making sure they had all their things. Seraphina held out her hand, and Stella grabbed it to help her jump over a puddle on the sidewalk. Sophie gasped excitedly. "I think that was the biggest jump you've ever done!" The girls promptly launched into a discussion about who could jump farther as you unlocked the door. As soon as it was open, they made their way over to the mushrooms to find some books for the day. Their voices filled the shop as they chatted about school and the cute boy Stella liked and the kitten they had seen outside their house the other day. You went about your morning duties, flipping on the lights and starting up the coffee machine. You also turned on the oven, preparing to bake the muffins. (They were frozen- who has the time to bake them fresh? Certainly not a mother of 3.) Once the kitchen was ready, you went over to the radio and tuned it to a familiar station, the soft

music adding some pleasant background noise. "Okay girls, it's time to get to the bus stop," you said, leaning over the counter to speak to them. "Don't forget, I'm walking to dance," Stella said, pointing at you as she walked to the door. "I won't forget," you said, pointing back at her. "Have a good day!" "Bye mom," Seraphina waved her small hand at you. "Bye honey, bye Sophia," You smiled, blowing a kiss to the three of them. "See you later!" Once the three of them were gone, you went around to the shelves and straightened up, getting ready for your first customers.

-----

After the lunch rush had dwindled down and the shop was nearly empty again, you were getting ready to go on your lunch break. You had just leaned down to grab a sandwich from the deli case when the bell above the door jingled, alerting you that a new customer had come in. You straightened up, your eyes going wide when you realized who it was, but you quickly fixed your face and smiled. "Welcome to the Shrooms Cafe!" "Hello," the man smiled back, speaking in a deep British accent. "I saw your sign for boba tea, and I've been looking everywhere to find some. You're the third shop I've been to today, so I'm really hoping you're not sold out like everywhere else," he grinned, coming closer to the counter. "No, we're not out! What kind did you want?" You asked. "Um... probably should have thought about that before I came in," he laughed nervously, looking at the menu above your head. "Oh, don't worry about it, we're not busy right now," you said reassuringly. “Take all the time you need.” He smiled gratefully, stepping off to the side while he read the menu. Meanwhile, you fidgeted with towels and wiped off the work surfaces and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him. Who could blame you, really? Harry Styles had just walked into your coffee shop. Who wouldn’t stare? “I think…” he spoke again, breaking you out of your trance. “I’ll do the watermelon tea, with strawberry boba, please.” You nodded, laughing lightly. He quirked one eyebrow, smiling along with you. “What’s funny?” “Oh, no, it’s just… of course you would order the one with watermelon.” “Oh,” he smiled, and you thought you detected a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I guess I do have a bit of a reputation with fruit, don’t I?” “Just a little,” you grinned. “One watermelon tea with strawberry boba, coming right up.” After ringing up the order, you quickly got to work. Instead of his real name, you wrote “watermelon man” on the sticker on the cup. Hopefully he would appreciate your little joke. “Here you are,” you smiled. “I hope it’s good, seeing as you worked so hard to find some.” “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he laughed, grabbing a straw from beside the cash register. You also noticed he had dropped a generous tip into the jar, probably while you had been busy making the drink. “Have a nice day,” you smiled. “You as well,” he said with a small wave before he made his way out the door, sipping his drink as he went. You sighed, shaking your head with a small grin as you grabbed the sandwich from earlier and went to a table for your lunch break.

-----

“Hi mom!” Sophie yelled, holding open the door for Seraphina. “Hi girls!” You called from the back corner of the shop. “I’m by the mushrooms!” The girls quickly found you, Seraphia hugging you and Sophie situating herself on one of the short stools. “How was your day?” You asked. “Good! I gave my report on monarch butterflies and guess what Mrs. Wilson said?” Sophie asked, leaning forward. “What did she say?” “She said it was the best report she had heard all day. She waited until the other kids left so they wouldn’t feel bad, but still,” she said proudly. “Oh wow! I’m so proud of you,” you said, moving over to hug her. “What did I tell you? You can do anything you put your mind to,” you smiled. “Including writing the best report in the whole class, hmm?” She nodded happily before turning away from you to pull a book off the shelf closest to her. “Which one are you starting now?” You asked, leaning over her shoulder to see the book she had. “Anne of Green Gables,” she said. “Oh, I loved those books when I was your age,” you smiled. “I think you’ll really like them.”

She nodded, already immersed in the book. You turned back to Seraphina, who was pulling her folder out of her backpack. “And how was your day, miss Seraphina?” “It was so good, look!” She handed you a paper with two gold stars at the top. “My teacher gave me two gold stars. She said my writing was very good!"

"All that practicing we did must have worked, then!" you said, beaming as you looked at her letters. They were still wobbly, but a huge improvement over how they had been at the beginning of the school year.

She nodded. "And then I colored this picture for you!” She handed you another page. This one had a drawing of you holding hands with her, Sophie, and Stella. The three of you had big smiles and lots of adorable little details. Stella had her hair in a bun and was wearing ballet shoes. Sophie was holding a book in her free hand. Seraphina had drawn herself wearing a shirt with a cat (her favorite animal) on it, and she was wearing her purple socks. Lastly, there was you, holding a cup of coffee and wearing a shirt with a big red heart on it. “Since you like coffee so much,” she explained. “It's beautiful,” you smiled, hugging her. “We’ll hang it on the fridge when we get home, okay?” “Okay,” she agreed. “Why don’t you find a book and read with Sophie for a little bit? We have just over an hour, then we have to go get Stella from dance.” She nodded, handing you the papers and her backpack before running over to the shelves. She grabbed a picture book, settling into the red cushion in the tree and beginning to flip through the pages.

----- “Alright girls, it’s time to pick up Stella,” you said as you wiped off the counter one last time. You had already turned off all the machines and packed up everything else for the day. You flipped the lights off on the way out, smiling a bit when you saw the hand painted sign for boba tea in the window. Harry came into your mind again, with his easy smile, his kind words, and his blushing laugh. You really hoped you would see him again, even though you knew you probably wouldn't. Your shop wasn't very big or well known. How likely was it for him to come to the same little shop in the middle of London again? Still, it didn’t hurt to hope. Maybe he would decide to try the other flavors and stop in again. Your smile spread even further when you started your playlist and Lights Up was the first song to come on. Apparently, it was going to be hard to forget about him.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harrystylesxyou #harry styles x you fanfiction #harrystylesxreader #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry fanfiction #the shrooms cafe

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ellitx · 3 years

Text

Chapter 6: Sentiment

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to rome

word count: 3.5k

The weather today is a kind that feels like a kiss of summer without the fiery heat of the noontime of the sun. The grass is a soft green that almost has a hint of blue and in the sky is enough pristine white cloud to show you how beautiful and perfect the sky was.

The concrete of the path was warm under your bare feet. You stopped and closed your eyes so that you could just focus on the sound. There it was, the singing of a lyre, how could anyone not say that was music?

You opened your eyes and let the daylight flood back in, bringing the perfect weather back into focus. You stretched out your arms, moaning when you heard the small sounds of your back cracking in satisfaction.

You looked down at the pile of apples on the ground, grabbing one and observing a drip of water tracing its curves. The fruit glowed rosier than they did in the day shine. The branches of each tree spread out as if so proud of the bounty they brought and the sweetness had given within each one.

It was wet and crisp when you bit into it, it broke between your teeth with a soft crunch. The lingering sound drifted around your ears, filling your heart with pleasure. Icy sweetness filled your mouth and for a moment, the world went still, as if a wave of content had drifted past and frozen the world solid.

You kept on chewing, biting until it was all gone. You went to grab another until a voice called your name.

“[Name]~”

The whiny voice of Venti reached your ears causing your hand to stop midway to get another bite of the fruit. You hummed at him to let him know you’re listening, still focused on the sweet taste lingering on your tongue.

“Stay here with me.” He pouted and patted his lap in motion for you to sit on it. The way he looked at you expectantly made you giggle and accepted his offer, not before you grabbed two apples to bring with you.

You flopped between him and laid your head against his shoulder and looked up at him with a radiant smile. “What is it?” You asked as he messed with the ribbon tied on your dress. He nuzzled on your shoulder and slithered his arms around your waist pulling you close to him.

His hair tickled your skin once he started attacking you with kisses from behind. A short gasp came from you when you felt his hand roaming under your dress. The sensation of his fingers trailing over your skin made you close your eyes tight in embarrassment as you immediately halted him by grabbing his wrist.

You looked over your shoulder with a frown decorating your face. An apple was shoved to him making him fall on his back as he groaned in pain and rubbed his nose to ease the bump.

“Ouch…” You folded your arms over your chest and pursed your lips as you pinched his arm. “O-o-ow!! [N-Name]! It hurts!” Small tears can be seen from the corner of his eyes as he pleaded for your mercy to spare him.

Huffing in exasperation, you let go of him and pulled your knees close to your chest while staring at him in skepticism. “Since when did you become such a pervert?” You mumbled and watched him fix his hat.

It was true though, Venti has never done that to you before. It just surprised you to see him become so touchy with you after what happened. You didn’t mind his kisses and hugs, but him wanting to go further was what you didn’t expect.

His spirits lowered and gently rested his head on your shoulder before whispering an apology. He just hopes you’re not so angry at him and you’re just playing around. Making you mad is the last thing he wanted.

He eyed the apple laying on the ground before taking it and wiping the fruit with his sleeve. The apple’s skin sits smoothly on his palm, the sweet taste awaiting for him to bite onto it.

It occurs to you in a fleeting thought, the apples gathered here would surely attract your little wisp friend. “By the way,” you started, catching his attention. You brought your knees closer to your chest, the arms that were wrapped around it had tightened. “I met Barbatos yesterday.”

His shoulders tensed at the familiar name, blinking at you in utter astonishment. “Y-you did?” He stammered and looked back at the red fruit in his hands to distract himself. Your head bobbed in response to his question, tilting your head towards him that he finds it rather cute.

“He actually accompanied me the whole day while you were gone…” Your mind drifted off as you absently played with the strings of his lyre, creating an improvised melody.

“I see… It’s been a long time since I’ve last seen him.” His laugh sounded rather strained. He bit his lip and looked anywhere else but you. He would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel anxious and nervous to see where this conversation is going.

“I’m really relieved to know he was well and safe. I was actually hoping the three of us could be together again, but…”

Your words sunk and you furrowed your brows, delicate hands ceasing from playing the lyre. “After you came back, he was gone all of a sudden.” He swallowed the lump that was sitting in his throat, his heart racing in each second that flies by.

A slow and deep exhale was what he did to calm himself. It took him a lot of courage to look at you and gave a reassuring smile that he’d hope it’ll work and wash away your worries.

You blinked and looked up at him in surprise when his hand caressed your head. Your eyes shining in wonder and innocent curiosity made his heart melt. He would’ve kissed you right here and right now if not for him to remind himself that you’re worried about the little elf’s whereabouts.

“He’ll come back to us. I’m sure of it.” There was amenity in his smile, a gentle and kind one you observed. It was the smile of one who soothed with ease and told you everything will be alright.

You blinked at him before giving a smile and nodding in agreement. A tired sigh was drawn from you and you fell into his lap, facing his stomach. “I’m just worried if Barbatos is angry at me.” Your muffled words didn’t go unnoticed by him as he raised his brow at you.

“How so?” Slender fingers played with the hem of your ribbon tied to your hair while he paid attention to you, taking in your sweet voice inside his head. “I mean when I told him to stay put he doesn’t want to listen. I don’t mind that he follows me everywhere, but I-I was supposed to dress!”

He almost choked after hearing what you have said. His whole face was flushed, remembering the time how he badly wanted to be with you while he was in his original form. He can feel your hold on him tightened and buried your face even further onto his stomach.

“He was also eyeing me from afar, so I don’t know if he was glaring at me or not…” That was it. His shoulders were shaking from either embarrassment or amusement. Everything around him felt still and quiet like the world had turned frozen in a minute.

He could only focus on how warm his cheeks are and your face pressed against him. His brain almost short-circuited once your digits were teasingly trailing from his chest. Your middle and index finger start a walking motion until they’ve reached his arm, drawing some figures on it.

Venti’s eyes flickered whilst he covered his own mouth to hide his blushing face from you, even though you weren’t even looking at him. However, curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know more what you think of his wisp form and wanted to indulge himself a bit with your presence next to him.

“He’s just worried about your safety.” You shifted your body letting your back rest against the ground and looked up at him. Your eyes would wander to observe his features, absently staring at him until he called your name to bring you out from your tranced state.

You reached for his braided hair and played with the tips, the sharp ends brushing your skin that made you want to take off his hair tie and redo his braids again. “You sound so sure about it.” You stated as you lift yourself to sit properly next to him.

“That’s because I’m absolutely sure of it.” His lips brushed your temple, giving it a small peck before smiling at you. You puffed your cheeks to express your slight vexation of how nonchalant he is about Barbatos.

Is he not worried about him? Why does he seem unperturbed that the little elf wasn’t here? You’ve known them for a long time now and the two of them are always together side by side. It feels different seeing them far apart from each other…

He was taken aback when you scooted forward from your seat, your faces together were so close he could feel your breathing brushed his skin. Your intent gaze made him nervous that he had suddenly lost the ability of speech.

His mouth is bone dry, letting out a shaky breath when he feels your chest pressed against him with your hands clutching on his shoulders. Your lips moved near to his ears just as you whispered, “Are you hiding him from me again?”

The moment he realized he misinterpreted your actions, your words, your expression formed; he scoffed at himself for assuming such things. You saw the shock plastered on his face before it was gone in a second.

An amused smile was present on your face, guessing you were right after all. A feeling of triumph filled your system, it’s really amusing to see him show this kind of face to you. You’ve never seen him look this surprised before and you’re just so proud of yourself you were able to finally tease him at last.

You stifled down your giggles and brushed the tear that fell from your face as you pinched his cheeks to wipe out the frown. “I’m just kidding. But if you ever did that, I won’t forgive you.”

Venti glanced over, the corner of his lips fighting a smile and his eyebrows slightly raised. Your mirthful giggles had halted when you saw how his eyes glinted with mischief. That playfulness visage was already spreading from his front and you have to look away before he could do anything to you.

Unluckily, he tackled you on the ground, the edges of his mouth tugging upwards that formed into a smirk that made your heart race. You sensed your whole body was heating up and you might have melted right in there when he grabbed your wrist and placed it above your head.

You knew you were already in trouble from the first you started teasing him, the friskiness lurking on his lips and eyes wasn’t hard to be overlooked, even a child can observe it without difficulty.

“Oh? And if I did, what would you do about it, love?” His face was dangerously close to your neck, his warm respiration that had unknowingly caused your body to titillate. Curse this man for making you feel like this so easily.

You pushed his shoulders away to create space between the two of you as you pout, your whole face was so warm that he even had the audacity to invade your personal space to make it worse. “I’m going to ignore you if you seriously hide him! How dare you hide such a cute creature from me!”

“Hm…” A sharp gasp slipped from your lips when he tilted his head and kissed your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “So he’s cuter than me?” He asked while his hand rested on your hip.

“O-of course! Much cuter than you. So small and fluffy and his little jingles are really adorable to listen to.” Your eyes skipped over to look at the tree, evading his intense gaze as much as possible. Your heart can’t take this extreme intimacy and if you wanted him to get off, the only way is to push him in which he only kept himself still.

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Venti went quiet all of a sudden, you can only hear the winds blowing and the chirping of the birds from the forest. His fringe was covering his eyes so it was hard to take a look at him, that is until he dropped his head and settled it on your shoulder.

“…ly?” You tilted your head at his fainted words while he nuzzled close to you.

“Eh?”

“Do you really mean that?”

You don’t know what’s going on but he turned clingy all of a sudden. Sneaky arms surrounding your waist that surprised you and his short locks caressing your skin as he rubbed his cheeks with yours, whining your name.

“Well… yes.” You answered with a heave of a sigh. The male grumbled and pulled you towards him, switching positions with you; your thighs are now straddling him while he looks up at you in adoration from below.

You’ve already lost count of how many times you’ve blushed on this day. Just how shameless can he be and not be unfazed with this kind of position?! Why is he so calm about it?! These things are what your mind can only think of all this time that baffled you so much.

Maybe you should ease up a bit. He’s always been craving for your attention and you thought it was already enough, which is actually the opposite. He can never get enough of you and he wanted and needed more. Be it a kiss, a hug, or just even simply singing a song with you.

He actually does hope he wanted to be more intimate, but he won’t ever say that out loud in front of you. Just seeing your cute and shy reactions from his sultry interactions already satisfied him, so when you placed your hand on his chest with a flushed face it made his rate even go faster than he could ever imagine.

He was indeed blessed to have this view from you. The way your lashes flutter from your eyes, those shy glances you keep giving to him, and the quivering of your lips excited him. His impulse kicked in and told him to just kiss you already and lavish you with his love endlessly.

Before you could draw your mind from its far places, his arms were around you, reaching behind your head to pull you closer to him until your lips made contact with his. Your hands hastily grabbed on his shirt to prevent yourself from falling off, shutting your eyes tight and allowing him to hold you close to his body.

You felt the rush of helplessness, the sinking yielding, the surging tide of warmth left you limp. The quiet and burning face of yours was blurred and drowned into nothingness. He bent back your head and kissed you, softly at first, and then a swift gradual intensity that made you cling to him as the only option in your hazy world.

The urgent and needy kisses were back once again, his insistent mouth was parting your shaking lips, sending wild tremors along your nerves, evoking from your senses you never had known you had a capable of feeling.

The sweet flavor of the apple still lingered that he can still taste it from you. Both of you drowned yourselves in from this heated kiss, your nerves tingle with excitement and anticipation as he touched you so gently and passionately.

He was so attracted to you with the kind of heady trance that brings attention like precious jewelry. You, with just the right blend of sweet and shy, are perfect to his eyes, every part of you is flawless and immaculate.

Your gaze slid to the side when he pulled you against him. His nose tickled your ear as you let out a tiny gasp and squirmed uncomfortably. You didn’t anticipate for him to handle you so intimately, so when you felt his lips graze your slender neck, your whole face heated up.

You summoned enough courage to look at him. His turquoise eyes twinkled in pleasure and excitement, drinking in the expression that was currently donning your face. Oh, he knows, and he’s intentionally trying to make you feel like this.

You’re going in for a long day with this impudent bard.

—

Venti approached you slowly and pulled you closer to him wrapping his arms around you from behind. His embrace was warm and his slim arms seemed very protective when wrapped around your small form. The world around you melted as you squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end.

You stretched your arm forward as you observed your hand. His eyes followed what you were doing, watching in slight curiosity.

“Your hands are actually quite small, [Name].” He commented whilst he hovered his hand next to yours to compare it. You stared at his own, eyes gleaming in concern when you noticed his skin color.

“Your hands are so pale, Venti.” The brushing of the skin as your hand connected with his was a surprise to you when you felt his palm was actually quite rough. “Are those calluses?”

The male hummed in affirmation as he rested his chin on your shoulder, watching you play with his hand with yours. “It’s so weird how yours are bigger than mine.” You muttered with puff cheeks, eyes squinting at the small size differences between your palms and his.

A small chuckle was elicited from him, enjoying the soft sensation of your hands touching lightly against his. “Isn’t that normal?” The tone of his voice was more of a matter-of-fact than a question.

His eyes widened in surprise when you enclosed your fingers from the gaps of his digits, intertwining them together. “I totally thought they were smaller…” His heart fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird, slowly lacing his digits with yours as it tightened a bit once they were finally connected.

He can faintly see the tips of your ears were red from behind, even when your hair covered it if you looked down below. A pleasant silence filled the air, his ears were gratified with the faint lullabies of the little birds. He stole a glance at you to observe your shy behavior, registering your cute expression inside his mind.

“I… I love you.”

“Eh?”

“Your hands! I love your hands, they’re— they’re nice!”

The frantic beating of your heart was so hard you felt it would escape right out from your chest. It pounded against your ribs as if trying to fulfill a thousand beats. It was so obvious to him that you were blushing profusely, your nervous fidgeting greeting his vision when you played with the ribbon tied to your hair.

He almost barely heard what you have said if not for his sharp ears that easily caught your words. The color infused his cheeks with a smile that started to bloom on his face and warmed him, his eyes shining in a way that only deep happiness can only bring.

Venti suppressed a smile. He could tell from your blush that you seriously liked him.

“I-I was just thinking how much I love them!” You swiftly interjected before he could get any different ideas. “The calluses you have, they’re from the lyre, right?” You asked and absently clasped his hand even more.

“They are.”

A sudden weight was settled on your shoulder surprising you. You looked over and you were only greeted by the dark tousled hair of his. His breathing brushed the nape of your neck as he muttered unexpected words that made your heartbeat louder than ever.

“I love yours too.”

He glanced down at your linked fingers, adoring how your hand fit perfectly with his. There’s a kind of redness that emits in him, a type of longing to the eyes and the delicate sweetness within. It shows a connection, that the smile and yearning come from some deep emotion in him.

His heart warmed at the idea of them finally being together. It was the first time he heard you say “I love you” to him. When his ears picked up those three words, it brought such joy and bliss inside him that words aren’t even enough to describe how he’s feeling right now.

He can’t help but let his smile widen, his stomach churning in delight and euphoria that he finally got to know your feelings towards him. He tightened his hold on you and shot you with a smile that was all adoration, just the right hint of softness, a crease at the corner of his eyes.

He lifted the intertwined fingers near to his lips, grazing it to the back of your hand, finally uttering out the words to return your feelings.

“I love you too.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact venti x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x reader #venti x reader #yandere venti x reader #genshin impact fanfictions #yandere #yandere genshin #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact venti #venti #elliwrites #Illusory Sense

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lemonpeter · 3 years

Text

My first fill for @peterparkerbingo : Teacher/teacher !

I’ve had a little bit of a writers block, so I’m sorry if this isn’t my best. But I enjoyed writing it and I hope y’all enjoy reading it! 💕 just a bit of spidershield

1.5K words

Warnings: unprofessional behavior between coworkers, fluff, I think that’s it lol

***

Mr. Parker was no stranger to the stares of others. Whether his students, or his coworkers, or even the parents of his students sometimes, he knew that he was watched.

It didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Which was why he agreed to model for Mr. Rogers’ class. And also because he loved being around the other teacher.

The art teacher from across the hall needed a model for his class to do figure drawing. And he’d come to Peter first.

His reasoning was that the teacher had a strong body from dancing for so many years. And that allowed him to stay in positions to be drawn for longer periods of time.

The reasons he didn’t list were that he wanted an excuse to stare at the gorgeous man for a couple hours without seeming weird. But he didn’t need to tell anyone that.

Peter walked into the classroom during his free block, a small smile tugging at his lips when he saw Steve. The other teacher had charcoal smudged on his cheek and forehead and didn’t seem to notice at all. Or maybe he didn’t care.

“Pete! I mean- Mr. Parker.” Steve cleared his throat, grinning a little. “Hey, thank you so much for doing this. You’re the best.”

The younger man waved his hand, laughing. “It’s no big deal, I didn’t have anything going on right now anyways. I’m happy to help.”

Steve nodded. He rubbed at his nose momentarily, effectively smearing another black streak across his face. “Okay, so, the kids will all be here in a couple minutes. You know how most of them wait right up until the bell.” He gave Peter a knowing look. “But you’ll just be right there in the center and I’ll position you once we’re all ready, okay?”

Peter nodded, smile reaching his eyes as he watched Steve. “Sounds perfect. Now, do you want some help cleaning up?”

The art teacher blinked at him, glancing around the room. “I think I’m good, my kids are usually pretty-“

Peter shook his head, brushing his thumb over the charcoal mark on his cheek. “Not the room. Your face. You’ve got a little….” He rubbed at the mark gently until it started coming off.

“Oh! Oh, I’m okay.” Steve’s cheeks colored and he stepped away from Peter’s touch. “Thank you, though. I’m just gonna get more on me, right?” He joked a little. “No point in cleaning yet.”

Peter smiled at him fondly, nodding. “Alright. That makes sense.”

Students began filing in, whispering to those around them as they eyed the other teacher in the room. It wasn’t like it was anything scandalous to walk in on, but everyone loved drama and the chance to start a rumor. It was the most fun part about school. And almost everyone believed that there was something between the two teachers already.

Steve cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention when the final bell rang and the last of his students trickled in. “Alright, I mentioned yesterday that we’d be working on sketching figures today. So Mr. Parker here was kind enough to be our volunteer figure. Isn’t that nice of him?”

A few weak “Thanks, Mr. Parker”s were mumbled, but almost everyone stayed focused on Steve and getting their supplies out of their bags.

“Okay, so-“ Steve made his way to where Peter was standing, mentally figuring out how he wanted him positioned. Then he reached out to move him before pausing. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Peter’s cheeks burned at the words when he heard the giggles from around the room in response, but nodded. “Of course.”

The art teacher’s hands gently guided Peter to where he wanted him, positioning him in a traditional ballet fourth position with one hand in front of him with the other gracefully held above his head. Peter moved his feet into position on his own when he understood.

“Do you think you can hold this position?” Steve asked softly, pulling his hands away to look at the younger man after he was finished.

“Of course.” Peter nodded, not moving at all. He knew that holding his arm up would get tiring eventually, but he didn’t want to ruin the picture. So he stayed as still as possible.

“Perfect. Thank you.” Steve smiled, going to his own seat and looking around at his students. “This is the position you’ll draw him in. You have all of class to complete your picture, it’s due by the bell.”

Everyone quickly got to work, eyes on Peter.

Steve started on his own sketch, an easy smile on his face as he started.

A recreation of Peter began to fill his page. Firm muscle on a slim body, his upper body hidden mostly beneath a loose blue tee. Dainty fingers holding position that lead into strong arms. Thick thighs that Steve wanted to feel wrapped around him that were clear in tight leggings. A soft bulge that the man had to be sure he didn’t pay too much attention to.

His sketch became clearer as time went on, as he was sure to capture every single detail of the man he admired from across the hall.

Just as he finished the gentle smile that curved at Peter’s lips with a stroke of his pencil, the bell broke through his blissful trance.

Steve blinked as he looked up, seeing his students packing up and Peter relaxing from his pose. “Oh, leave your papers at the table by the door. Make sure you signed your name on them,” he called before too many could get out the door.

Peter’s fingers gently massaged at his stiff arm as he relaxed, not noticing the other teacher approaching him again.

“I hope you’re not too sore.” Steve spoke up, his sketch held between his fingers. “I’m sorry if the position I picked was too…demanding. I just figured it would look nice.”

“No, it’s alright,” Peter assured him. “I’m a tough guy, I can take it,” he joked. His eyes landed on the drawing hanging at Steve’s side in his hand and nodded towards it. “I saw you were pretty focused over there. Can I see it?”

The teacher looked at the paper like he’d forgotten it was there and then back at the other man. “Oh- uh, yeah. Sure.” He held the sketch out nervously.

The dance teacher took it with a smile, eyes scanning over the drawing as he took in every detail.

He was quiet for a moment. Two moments. Long enough to make Steve worried that he did something wrong. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not-“

“Shh,” Peter scolded, not looking away from the page in his hand. “You’re ruining the moment.”

Steve shut his mouth again, watching him. Ruining the moment? What was that supposed to mean?

After a few more seconds, Peter finally looked up. “I’m not sure who exactly that is that you drew. He can’t be me,” he said confidently.

“What?” The picture looked exactly like him. Steve may have been a little rusty, but it was definitely Peter.

“Nope, can’t be. Because whoever that is is gorgeous.” The dance teacher grinned at him, the expression a little goofy. “Steve, you’re incredible.”

Steve finally relaxed again, laughing a little. “Oh. Thanks, I don’t know about incredible, but thank you.”

Peter went to hand the paper back, looking up at him when he was stopped. “It’s yours.”

“No, I want you to have it. Please.”

The dancer smiled more, nodding. “Thank you.” Then he paused, going to grab a scrap piece of paper and a pencil.

Steve watched him curiously, chuckling at how he was furiously scribbling on the paper. “Okay?”

“Shh, I’m creating.”

After about a minute of frantic doodling, Peter confidently held up the paper and handed it over.

Steve raised an eyebrow, laughing loudly as he saw the drawing. He just couldn’t help himself. “Why am I a triangle? With just a circle for a head?”

Peter pouted a little before laughing with him. “We can’t all be artists. But that’s not the important part.”

Steve looked lower on the paper, brows furrowing when he saw a number. “I already have your extension. And you’re across the hall. Why would I need-“

“That’s my cell number, Steve.” Peter started to walk to the door. So he wouldn’t be stuck there if he was rejected. “Feel free to call. For anything.”

“Your cell…why?”

Peter sighed, leaning against the doorway. “I want you to call me, Stevie. Clear enough for you?” He bit the inside of his cheek before blurting out his comment. “Maybe you could do some more figure drawing of me. Just not as professional.”

He rushed to leave after what he said, face flushed in embarrassment. What the hell was that?

Steve watched him go, eyes squinted as students for his next class filed in. “Not as professional…what does- oh my god, does that mean naked?”

His classroom fell completely silent and he wished that he could take his words back. He’d forgotten that they could hear every word.

One brave soul decided to speak up after the silence continued. “I say go for it.”

#spidershield #my writing #peter parker #steve rogers #steve x peter #steve rogers x peter parker #dance teacher!Peter #art teacher!steve #peterparkerbingo2021 #if there are any insane obvious editing mistakes let me know #other than that just ignore them lol I’m tired and am proud for even getting this much written

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chatsu · 3 years

Text

˗ˋ there you are

genre — angst, fluff (?) warning — mentions of death, grief words — 2,124

notes — it is 3:07 am, and i don't want to come up with a synopsis so, i shan't <3 this is my first writing post,, so uhh, please give me criticism !

violet chrysanthemum — unbearable pain at the thought of losing a loved one white chrysanthemum — reserved for sympathy and remembrance lyra — a constellation, which you can read more about here !

hugging his knees on the pavement, oikawa tooru couldn't help but overhear the faint chitter of loved ones greeting each other, serving as a reminder to why he was lamenting in the first place. a combination of heavy sobs and pleas of a miracle, he had grown used to, yet he still found the letters engraved on the cold stone in front of him almost foreign.

the anniversary of your death was fast approaching. caught in the fast lane of change, tooru has experienced almost every stage of grief. almost.

he remembers a shade of reddish brown framing your corpse. a metallic odour accompanied by tears burning every inch of his face, creating a sickly feeling in the back of his throat, which only multiplied as he released his frustration in the form of bargains.

' if only's ' and ' what if's ' his brittle voice had echoed — temporary truces, in which he begged and pleaded with every god and goddess known to the universe, in an attempt to negotiate his way out of this harsh reality.

from denial to anger, and from bargaining which soon melted into his current state of stark numbness in your absence. the past seemed more alive than the present.

stationed on the 4th, hazy reminders of a once living past seemed to obstruct his path of progression leading to the 5th and final phase of this grieving process that must inevitably follow. acceptance.

tooru is a competitive man. on the court, he is capable of adapting to new environments, examining their playing style, studying each and every player in a matter of seconds and having the ability to draw out their strengths — thus, blending into the team as if he was apart of the original line up.

yet, surrounded by this atmosphere of sorrow and anguish, he stuck out like a sore thumb. even after scrutinizing how others had dealt with this profound feeling of misery, their so called 'methods' were in vain, and he continued to suffer.

his fear of being second best, he now had no chance of overcoming. because as if in a race, tooru was exasperated, struggling to catch up with everyone else.

even the stars are lonely, but at least there were a multitude to keep company, and he couldn't help but envy them. your family, friends, hanamaki, matsukawa, hajime, even takeru had accepted the fact that you were gone, as they smiled fondly, memory sweet with you.

tooru could not remember the last time he smiled — a genuine one, that is. one that isn't plastered on when prompted with the constant ' how are you holding up? '. one that creeps up to his eyes to resemble a crescent moon. one with familiarity and love. one because of you.

the setting sun bathed everything in shades of lavender, painting the flowers propped beside your grave a colour he had wished they were. telling a tale of many consecutive days spent in this location, they bloomed brightly and never wilted away for they were regularly changed with a newer, hand picked bouquet. today, the flowers hadn't the ability to mock him, for today was different.

earlier, under what he thought were unfortunate circumstances, he was left stricken by the lack of purple petals accessible. left with no other choice, he let his fingers fumble along those coloured as snow instead. however, opting for these flowers proved to be difficult, as he realised he was breaking his routine.

because the shadow of the past still hung over, his fear of being second best soon morphed into a fear of change. a fear of everything changing. again, while he still had not adjusted to his scars wounded by time. it was nearing a year since tragedy struck. a year since that decisive moment of change.

but due to a sudden yet short lived act of bravery, tooru chose to cease sewing the seeds of habit, and as of right now, he found himself laying these flowers in their accustomed seat atop the gleaming stone. stems slightly compressed due to his secure grip, but petals remaining untouched. although both were chrysanthemums, the previous batches had been violet, and the current were white, simple as.

it is only when his nephew appears in his peripheral, he is snapped out of his trance, plastering a soft smile to veil his conflicting thoughts. hardly a word is spoken between them as takeru gently places an article of clothing on his lap, then is soon walking off.

leaving tooru with more questions than answers, his eyes shift downwards and widen at the sight of his old aoba johsai uniform folded ever so neatly. at an agonizingly slow pace, his slender fingers start to inspect every nook and cranny of the oversized — on you, not him — jersey. he holds it gingerly for this specific piece of fabric is a memory preserved.

and like a bridge to the past, tooru finds himself traversing along the nostalgic path, illuminated by memories time seemed to have dimmed.

as if the past is burned into his psyche, he still remembers the day you ignored him, well at least tried to.

though your actions were deemed fruitless, as you soon dropped your facade when he eventually caught up to you while you were walking home. mentally cursing yourself for your futile attempts at avoiding him, you had confessed that you were not in fact jealous, but curious as to why there were so many girls wearing his exact jersey. there was an attempt to stifle a laugh, yet one look at the stubborn pout on your face was all it took for tooru to burst out laughing.

"what is so funny?" you had tilted your head with a slight scowl painting your features.

impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for a response, but from his hunched figure and the smack! when he brought his hand to his knee was confirmation that his fit of laughter wasn't going to die out any time soon.

"oikawa" you had puffed, and the use of his last name was enough to get his attention, as he flicked an invisible tear off his face.

dramatically, with his hand latched onto his hip to form his signature stance, his free arm stretched out and squeezed your shoulders.

"they're not mine" he chuckled with a shrug and a smile — smug, yet genuine.

"listen tooru, i'm not dumb. you're the team captain right? the number 1's on the back practically mocked me!"

"may i ask, how many were there?"

"you mean how many were wearing your uniform? hmm i don't know, maybe every single girl i saw cheering?"

"yeah, and do you really think i'd have that many jerseys to give away? iwa-chan would be kicking my ass if i was constantly getting new jerseys!"

moments of silence passed and you figured that he was right, but your stubborn demeanour wasn't going to admit defeat that easily.

"i suppose that it would cost a lot of money, which you don't have, seeing as i was the one who had to pay for lunch yesterday. plus, you uhh, still seem as small as you were in first year so i assume you wouldn't need a change in size"

feigning a gasp, he clutched his heart and claimed that it was his turn to ignore you. snickering in response, he cupped your face and peppered it with kisses until he spoke up again.

"you know, ordering uniforms are pretty common for fangirls. buuut, you don't have to spend a single dime 'cause there's only one i'd like you to wear"

digging into his bag whilst motioning you to lift your arms up, he pulled out his aoba johsai jersey. he quickly put it on you and stood back, admiring how the cloth adorned you — no, how you adorned the cloth. this went on for a while, him staring at you in pure adoration, until his face lit up and he went back to fumbling in his bag.

"here! to fully establish that this is for you and you only, a limited edition, aoba johsai uniform, signed by the oikawa tooru" he beamed, placing the top of a permanent marker in between his teeth and biting the lid off.

his left hand found purchase on your waist as the other was in the midst of signing the front and back of your shirt with his signature. tooru being, well, tooru, he began to embellish the entire fabric in little hearts with ' tooru + y/n 's in large lettering, until he was interrupted by your arms outstretching and pulling him in for a hug. deciding against sulking about not getting to finish his oh so lovely drawings, he instead chose to reciprocate and nuzzle into your neck, basking in your warmth.

from then on, it was an essential garment to your outfits. yes, you were reluctant as the bright turquoise colour certainly did not match with everything, but ' you can pull off anything ' is what tooru had claimed. some fashion advice coming from the mf who wore plaid shorts <3

unlike the rest of your clothes in the closet collecting dust, it remained hung up on the handle, ready for use. from matches to study dates which later transitioned into sleepovers, he always complimented your attire in different ways as if it was your first time wearing it.

braiding his chocolate coloured locks, he lay on top of you, the back of his head on your stomach as he made an effort to mirror the rhythm of your breathing with every rise and fall of your chest.

after a lack of commentary, you noticed that he was not staring off into space, but rather the glow in the dark stars you had stuck up on your ceiling. deciding to take advantage, you extended your arm to switch off the lamp adjacent your bed, and while the light faded, the stars gathered overhead.

"oh - hurry up tooru, look! it's a shooting star, make a wish" you gushed, having one eye shut while the other awaited his reaction.

"come on now, you know i didn't bring my glasses with me today, hmph"

"no no, how does that saying go — you don't have to be able to see it to believe it! you're the one always saying those cliche quotes all the time"

".. angel, i'm sorry but this is all just a yellow blur to me. i really can't see anything"

huffing at his habitual use of endearment, you wrapped your hand around his wrist and straightened out his index finger to guide it towards the ' shooting star ' that had not moved from the centre of your ceiling.

"better?"

"much"

letting out a satisfied hum, you both closed your eyes, your conversation, but not your minds as they wished upon the faithful glints of gold which magnified the tranquility of it all.

you eased your grip around his wrist but he took this as an opportunity to interlock his fingers with yours. and with the stars winking from a pitch black sky, your wishes combined, and the soft squeeze of your hands, it was a silent promise that you would always be with each other.

perhaps it was the flower's slight change in hue which resulted in this caprice of fate, because for the first time, he finds himself recalling positive memories rather than remnants of your death.

and for the first time, tooru accepts. the unknown feeling envelops him, yet it does so with open arms, a welcoming smile, and no judgement.

the way he allows his tears dye the turquoise clothing a darker shade, he recognizes that he is no longer under the false pretence that all is well.

he need not question why the corners of his lips subliminally upturn, because as as he clutches this jersey, it's almost as if he is clutching you once more.

while the last stars still fleck the sky, he thanks those lucky stars, for it is you there with him, and he finds solace in your presence.

but this time, tooru isn't afraid to let go.

by no means does he intend to let go of you, no — never. but to let go of the affliction, pain, and instead have regard for the past in preparation for the future. in preparation for change.

and with his damp high school uniform, his smile that is heartful, and the lyra hanging heavy in the eastern sky, they all begin to coalesce into his former self.

the tooru who is not a genius. the tooru who underestimates his own strength, the tooru who overcomes adversity. the tooru, whom you are in love with.

and with the knowledge, and most importantly, acceptance, that you are no longer here with him physically,

oikawa tooru knows that wherever he goes, there you are.

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geminiwritten · 3 years

Text

heatwave ; bucky barnes

fandom: marvel

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: you’re not a huge fan of the hot weather until a certain super soldier finally gets his arse out of bed and gives you a reason to love it

notes: i wrote this over quite a few days so i’m really sorry if its disjointed, and i’m so sorry if its repetitive of my last piece! i’m still trying to get through a bit of writer’s block, so i hope y’all enjoy!

word count: 3359

The heat seemed to wash over you in waves. Pulses of warmth rolling through your body and stealing your breath. Every inch of your skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, drawing all the hydration from your body and draining any energy you might have possessed if it wasn’t for the heatwave currently sweeping through New York City.

“Ugh,” you groaned, your head lulling to the side where Natasha laid, “I think I’m dying.”

She let out a breathy laugh, “You’re not dying.”

“I might be.”

“Oh, come on you two,” Sam hollered from the pool a little way across the balcony, “have some fun for once in your lives!”

Natasha propped herself up on her elbows and squinted over the top of her sunglasses, “With you idiots? No thanks.”

“Why are you always such a killjoy, Romanoff?”

“Why are you always such a pain in the ass, Wilson?” you called back, mimicking Natasha on your elbows.

He scoffed, “That’s rich coming from the whiniest member of the team.”

Your frown deepened, this time out of anger and not because of the bright glare from the sun.

“Watch it, Wilson,” a voice called out from behind you, “or she’ll come over there and kick your ass.”

Both you and Natasha whipped around to find Bucky. He had probably only just woken, his mop of hair tied up into a loose bun with escaped tendrils sticking to the hot skin of his neck and forehead. This time, it wasn’t the heat that knocked the air from your lungs.

“Nice to see you’re alive, Buck,” Steve chuckled as he waded through the pool toward where Sam was leaning against the edge.

Bucky rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to say something smart but having his breath stolen as he stepped out of the shade and into the sun. “Holy shit,” he gasped, “it’s hot.”

“Sharp observation skills, Einstein,” Natasha quipped.

“At least Barnes will get in the pool unlike you two party poopers,” Sam said, before copping a volleyball to the back of the head thanks to Bruce’s poor aim.

He spun around quickly, ball in hand and ready to hurl it back at his attacker.

“Well then,” Bucky sighed, now standing beside you, “I guess it’s time for a swim.”

He looked down at you sprawled across your towel, one arm draped over your eyes to shield from the sun and the other resting on your bare stomach. You suddenly felt exposed, nervous under the gaze of his pale blue eyes.

“Want to join me?”

Your pulse thudded in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to get in the water with him, but the sound of shouts and spraying water reminded you of the rest of the team.

“I’m sorry, Buck, I’ll have to pass,” you replied.

He pushed his bottom lip forward, “It’s your loss, doll, this heat is a killer.”

Your limbs turned to jelly at the sound of that pet name rolling off his tongue.

“Ugh,” Natasha scoffed beside you, “you two are sickening.”

You wanted to turn around and bite back at her, but what happened next had you paralysed. Every nerve in your body ignited, goosebumps rising across every inch of your skin in spite of the steamy weather. Bucky’s fingers curled under the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head to reveal his sculpted body beneath. His abs rolled and tensed as he rid himself of the material and discarded it on the ground, making your mouth water and your head spin with a thousand different unholy thoughts.

A shriek from the red headed woman beside you broke you out of your trance, and only then did you notice the spray of pool water that had washed over you and most of the balcony.

“You’re an arse, Barnes!” Natasha yelled, standing and angrily snatching up her towel.

You pushed your sunglasses further up your nose as you let your gaze settle on the giggling men in the pool. Bucky’s now wet, broad shoulders glistened under the sunlight, his alabaster skin taught across the landscape of muscle.

“Do you want some lunch or are you just going to keep staring like a creep?” Natasha asked as she stood over you.

Your gaze hardly wavered, “I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed, her lips curling into a smirk, “because I think you’ve got a little bit of drool on your chin there.”

If Bucky wasn’t pulling himself out of the water right at the moment, you might have turned around to poke your tongue at her, but instead you opted for flipping her the bird while your eyes remained trained on the pool area.

The rest of the steamy day went by far too quickly. Despite your hate for the heat, you stayed out on the balcony until the sun began to set. Only when Bucky and Sam wrapped themselves in towels and declared that it was time for dinner did you finally put your book away, not that you had managed to read even a single page of it.

“Is it supposed to be this hot again tomorrow?” Sam asked as the three of you stepped inside.

“Yeah,” you replied, “and the day after.”

“I bet you’re happy about that,” he chuckled, watching disappointment sweep across your face as Bucky pulled his shirt over his head

“Shut up.”

He chuckled at your feeble attempt to jab his side, easily evading your attack.

“Alright, children,” Tony called from the kitchen, “dinner’s ready.”

Like moths to a flame, the rest of the team gathered around the kitchen bench where Natasha and Tony had laid out the pre-cut ingredients for everyone to make their own burgers.

“I’m going to have a shower before eating,” Bucky said, to no one in particular as he draped his damp towel over his forearm.

“Do you need any help?” Sam asked, his grin evil, “Because I’m sure Y/N would love-”

“Sam!” you snapped.

Thankfully, Bucky remained oblivious, his brows knit into an adorable frown.

“Never mind, Buck,” you said, “I’ll make sure they save you some food.”

His face broke into that familiar smile that melted your heart, “Thanks, doll.”

Once again, your legs wobbled like jelly and you had to steady yourself on the back of the lounge.

“Ugh,” Sam groaned, “I can’t wait until they day you two finally fu-”

“Language,” Steve interrupted with a disapproving glare at Sam.

You poked your tongue out before turning toward the array of burger ingredients, your empty stomach rumbling at the sight.

The next day rolled around just as the weather forecast had predicted. The air was thick with humidity and the sun blared down just as it had yesterday. Once again you found yourself on a towel beside the pool, half of the team splashing around while the other half laid languidly in the shade.

“Still not getting in today?” Steve asked as he approached the bar fridge near where you had placed your towel.

You shook your head, “I’d rather not get caught in the crossfire of an overly aggressive game of chicken.”

“I mean, you could play the game with us, maybe even get to climb onto Bucky’s shoulders.��

You whipped around, your glare lethal, “What the fuck, Rogers?”

He chuckled, “Sorry, Sam told me to.”

“You are the last person I would expect to stoop to his level,” you said, crossing your arms indignantly.

He shrugged, “Well, no one has told Buck, if that makes up for anything.”

“I’m guessing everyone else knows, though.”

He didn’t respond, only smiled sheepishly.

“Ugh,” you sighed.

“In my own defence, Natasha told me about your crush months ago and I haven’t let it slip once. It’s been-”

“Sam,” you interrupted him, “I know.”

He took a generous sip of water before crouching beside you, “For what it’s worth, I think you should tell him how you feel.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed.

Steve knew he couldn’t say anymore. He knew nothing he said would convince you to tell Bucky how you felt, and he knew he couldn’t betray his best friend’s trust by divulging the fact that Bucky really had confessed his feelings for you before. He decided to let you be, gathering three more bottles of water before heading back to the pool.

The day passed almost identically to the one before it, and so did the next. It wasn’t until two o’clock in the morning on the third night of the heatwave that you felt a sudden change. You awoke abruptly, a shiver running down your spine as cool air blew through the open window and brushed across your bare skin. You frowned at the night sky before tiredly pulling your duvet up to your chin and falling back asleep.

By morning, the heat was well and truly gone. Clouds blanketed New York City, threatening to rain as they rolled angrily across the grey sky.

“I guess it’s back to work today, Avengers,” Tony said from behind his tablet.

Almost everyone was awake, crowded around the kitchen bench awaiting Clint’s famous French toast.

“What work?” Peter asked.

“Homework for you, kid,” Steve replied, earning an indignant frown from Peter.

You couldn’t help but giggle into your mug of coffee, before almost spraying it back out at the sight that then exited the elevator.

Bucky. Shirtless. Again.

You began to wonder what you had done to be so lucky, your heart thrumming against your rib cage so hard you worried that someone might hear it.

“Oh, my, Barnes,” Tony gasped, “you know it’s still in the A.M., right?”

Bucky simply rolled his tired eyes before slumping onto the lounge, mumbling, “Hungry.”

It wasn’t long before Clint served breakfast, everyone scoffing their food as if they hadn’t eaten in days, and soon after that, Peter dismissed himself for school and Tony and Bruce made their way to the lab.

“I think I need to get back into the gym today,” Clint sighed, stretching his arms above his head.

You sighed, “Same.”

“Bucky and I were planning on heading down there in the afternoon actually, we could do a group training session,” Steve said as he filled the sink, ready to wash everyone’s dishes.

“I’m in,” Natasha replied, “I was going to head into town for some groceries this morning, so the afternoon is better for me.”

“Yeah, alright,” Clint added, “Count me in.”

“Me too,” Sam said through his last mouthful of toast, “and obviously Y/N will be there too.”

You turned to him quickly, a frown already etched between your brows, “What the hell does that mean?”

He chuckled, “Steve said that he and Bucky were planning it, so obviously you-”

You elbowed him sharply in the gut before standing from your seat at the dining table and stomping over to the kitchen.

Natasha sighed, “You better be careful, Wilson, you’re playing with fire.”

“But it’s so obvious that they both like each other, why can’t they just fuck already.”

Steve’s ears turned red and Natasha laughed, but neither of them seemed to notice as Bucky finally made his way over from the living area.

“Who needs to fuck already?” he asked, brows knit.

“No one,” Steve answered quickly, “Tony wants help moving a new delivery, I said we’d help him out. Come on.”

He ushered the confused Bucky out of the room, but not before shooting daggers at Sam.

After breakfast you decided to go with Natasha into town. The compound was running low on a few things that Tony always forgot to add to the weekly grocery delivery, so you took your time shopping and chatting. It was nice to simply enjoy the feeling of not having sweat drip from every inch of your skin, though you couldn’t help mourning the sticky weather that would encourage Bucky to constantly walk around shirtless.

It was almost four o’clock when you finally changed into your workout gear and headed for the gym. Most of the team were already in there, and those that weren’t had kindly declined the offer of a group training session.

Steve, Sam, Tony, and Bucky were gathered around the sparring mats each taking turns at attacking the training dummy, while Clint was over by the weights alone. You quickly found Wanda and Natasha on the treadmills and decided to start there.

“Afternoon,” Wanda greeted you, her smile sweet as she swiped the sweat from her brow.

You grinned back, “Fancy seeing you out of your room.”

“I don’t do heat,” she said, “but Nat has just been telling me about how much you’ve been enjoying it.”

You tossed your gym towel at her, gasping, “Oh, shut up!”

The two red heads giggled, thankfully too amused to notice the way your eyes drifted across the gym to where Bucky was training.

After almost an hour on the treadmill, chatting idly about nothing in particular with Nat and Wanda, Steve called the team to attention. Everyone moved in from around the gym, forming a misshapen circle around the sparring mats that he and Clint had just hauled from the storage room.

“It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Sam said as he plopped down on the floor and began stretching his legs out in front of him, “is the air on, Tony?”

Tony, who was chugging half a bottle of water, simply shrugged and waved haphazardly at the control panel by the main entry doors.

“I’ll check it,” you offered before turning on your heel.

You tapped the screen and it came to life, but the display wasn’t the same as the one in your room. It had more options and dials for more variables than just the temperature, but on the top right of the screen was a little green button that you assumed meant it was on. You chose the dial that looked like it controlled the fan speed and turned it all the way up.

“All good, Y/N?” Steve called.

You nodded before hurrying back to the group, bending your right leg up to your buttocks in a quick stretch. Steve and Nat then took their positions in the middle of the circle and began demonstrating the fight sequences that they wanted the team to practice.

“Now partner up, pick a mat, and practice until you can do it as fast as you can,” Steve said, before looking directly at Sam, “without hurting each other.”

Sam sighed with exasperation as he turned to his partner, Bucky. You turned to Wanda while Nat joined Clint on a mat and Tony stepped up to where Steve was. Each pair started slowly mimicking the moves that had just been demonstrated.

“It is hot in here,” Wanda said, her breath heavy as she ducked your fist.

You simply nodded, too focused on your movements to be able to speak.

Grunts, huffs, and the thud of heavy feet on the vinyl mats echoed throughout the gym for fifteen minutes before Steve called a break. You practically dove for your water bottle, only to choke on the first mouthful of water when Bucky yanked his sweat-soaked shirt over his head. Wanda caught your eye, giggling as you spluttered.

“I thought the heatwave was over,” Clint said.

Tony nodded, “It is, I think the air-con is playing up.”

“It’s broken?” Wanda gasped.

He shrugged, opening his mouth to respond but stopping when Steve spoke first, “Alright, enough chatting, let’s get back into it.”

Over the next thirty minutes, Wanda’s fist made contact with your shoulder, your abdomen, and almost your jaw if she hadn’t quickly noticed that you were too distracted to block her swing. Her foot then collided with your hip twice before she finally gave in on trying to get your attention.

Your eyes were glossed over and glued to the super soldier duelling Sam. His exposed skin glistened with sweat, muscles rippling under taught, alabaster skin. His stare was hard, eyes almost grey as they narrowed on every move that Sam made. Your palms began to sweat, knees wobbling as you watched his tongue swipe quickly across his pink lips.

“Y/N!” Wanda snapped, her fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to face her, “focus.”

“Shit, sorry,” you muttered.

You raised your shaky hands, trying to block out the shirtless man still in your peripheral vision.

By the time Steve called the training session to an end, the air was almost as dense as the storm clouds outside. Everyone was soaked in their own sweat, hair clinging to sticky skin and muscles beneath burning from use.

“I swear to God, Tony,” Wanda said as she draped her towel over her shoulder, “if the air-con is broken, I’m not going to let you sleep until it’s fixed.”

He chuckled, fingers already moving swiftly across the tablet in his lap, “It’s not broken.”

“Then what the fuck is this?” Sam exclaimed, arms gesturing wildly toward the gym’s huge windows that were completely veiled in condensation.

Tony nodded toward you, “Y/N turned the temperature up instead of down.”

Heat blossomed in your chest, crawling up your neck and to the tips of your ears. Every pair of eyes landed on you, a mixture of irritation and amusement etched across the faces of your teammates.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I got confused.”

Most of the group simply chuckled or shrugged, collecting their things and heading for the door, but Sam took his time. The devilish smirk adorning his lips made your pulse begin to race.

“Far out, Y/N,” he said, “you didn’t have to torture all of us just to get Barnes to take his clothes off.”

Your eyes went wide, brows shooting up toward your hairline as every coherent thought left your head. Your heart pounded deafeningly in your ears.

The team was suddenly silent, those closest to the door hurrying out and the rest quickly rushing after them. Wanda stuck her elbow into Sam’s side before dragging him out by his shirt collar.

Bucky remained, paralysed feet still glued to the ground as he quickly tried to catch up on what had just happened.

“Sam was just joking,” you finally managed to speak, “he’s an arse.”

Bucky blinked slowly, “Yeah… such an arse.”

You nodded, mouth dry as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, “Okay, well, I’ve got to-”

“He is an arse,” Bucky interrupted you, blue eyes wide with curiosity, “but he doesn’t usually lie.”

You didn’t know what to say, your nervous fingers tangling behind your back. His stare was heavy, pressing down on your shoulders and holding you still as he slowly stepped closer.

“Do you like me?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I like you, Buck, you’re-”

“No,” one last step and his breath fanned the exposed skin of your neck, “do you-”

This time, it was your turn to interrupt. Every bit of pent-up tension and suppressed desire propelled you toward him, coming up onto the balls of your feet and wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. Your lips crashed into his, so hard you might have worried about bruising them if the thought of a mark left by Bucky wasn’t so thrilling.

He hesitated only for a moment before his hands found your waist, practically lifting you off the ground and squashing your body against his. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue glided across your bottom lip, begging for entry. A low, almost feral growl rumbled up from his chest once you allowed him in, tongues clashing.

You only parted when breath became absolutely necessary, your lungs burning for air. He let you back onto your own feet, though his strong arms stayed wound around your waist.

“Um, yeah,” you said between gulps of air, “I really like you, Buck.”

He chuckled, “Well, that’s a relief because I really like you too.”

He pressed his lips to yours once more before pulling away completely and wrapping his gym towel around his shoulders.

“I need a shower,” he said, taking your hand in his and tugging you toward the door, “and it’s your turn to take your clothes off now.”

END.

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