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thisonehere · 5 months

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Kharacters reacting to you opening your eyes after they assumed you died

C/w: Angst, mentions of blood and physical assault, afab reader

Kitana

The battle had finally met its end, Kitana was able to push back the army of Shao to the point of retreat. A smile spread across her face at this victory... but this smile soon faded as she noticed something: she didn't see you anywhere.

"Y/n!" She called, expecting to see among her ranks. But you weren't there.

Kitana's heart began to race as she started to look this way and that for you, but you weren't anywhere to be seen.

With a hard swallow, she turned and started to search among the bodies of the dead soldiers.

She paused and rolled over the dead bodies, hoping that you weren't one of them.

Then she saw it, she saw your mangled body lying broken in the mass of other bodies.

During the battle, you found General Shao, or he had found you, either way, it left you in this condition...and he.... he...did this to you

"No..." Kitana bellowed as she went to her knees beside you.

Kitana has seen a lot of things, done a lot of things, but seeing your brutalized body...it-it just made her sick to her stomach.

She bowed her head and took your hand as she began to make a silent prayer for your soul. As she did, she began to blame her

You had initially wanted to stay in Sun Do, but she convinced you to come and fight. Now you're here, in this shape. If it wasn't for her, you'd be safe at home.

She thinks of the life you could have had if only you never came here. She even begins to question what your life would have been like if you never crossed paths with her.

Before she can finish her revere and her prayer, your eyes snap open.

Kitana lifted her head, and a slight gasp exited her mouth.

You attempt to move but only howl in pain at your injuries. Kitana's grip on your hand tightens "Stay still," she instructs, "We're going to find you help" She assures. This settles you down, her words are surprisingly calm to you.

Though your condition is severe, Kitana can't help but smile to herself at knowing you're alive. She wants to yell at you, scold you for being so reckless in going against Shao without her. But she cannot. She is just so overwhelmed with relief that you are okay.

Bi-Han

As grand-master of the Lin Kuei, Bi-Han had many duties to fulfill. But when evening finally fell and he had completed all his tasks, he had one thing that he was forward to: spending time with you. After the great betrayal that his brother and Tomas did to him, you stood by his side no matter what and for that he was truly grateful for.

He approached your room door and gently knocked it, hoping not to startle you. "Y/n, my beloved, may I come in?" he asked.

Bi-Han waited for a response, but none came. Just silence. Bi-Han was confused, normally you would have responded by now.

He knocked again, once again with no response.

Bi-Han couldn't lie, he was getting slightly concerned, almost afraid. This wasn't like you at all. Were you giving him the silent treatment? What did he do? Is there a way he could fix things?

His patience eventually wears thin and he kicks down the door. And there he sees you lying on the ground, in a pool of your own blood.

Bi-han felt his heart drop and his blood stop as he sees you. His eyes began to dart around the room and he saw the window open, by force by the looks of it. An assassin. Did his brother send them? It doesn't matter, not right now.

He rushes to your bleeding corporeal and picks you up. He doesn't know what to do, how long were you like this? He panics and lays you on the bed. He calls for a guard "Bring a medic, NOW!". With a nod they rush away.

For the next passing moments, all Bi-Han can do is stare at your body. He shakes his head as anger begins to build up within him.

He had so many plans and things he wanted to do with you. He wanted to place a ring on your finger, hold his first-born with you, hold you tight as you slept in his bed. He also knew you yourself had plans for the future, and now it is all gone. Something that will never be.

He sits on the bed and holds you tight in his arms. Your perfume fills his nostrils, a cruel mocking of what could have been.

He looks at you face, you look so beautiful and peaceful even in this state. He wanted to kiss it, but he realized that instead he will have to bury it.

You eyes splinter open all of a sudden.

Bi-Han lets out a sigh, he hadn't even noticed he was holding his breath.

You twist in pain, disoriented by what's happening. A sharp pain shoots through your body. "Don't move." He says, holding you tight. A surprisingly cool and warm sensation springs from his body into yours providing a slight comfort.

Bi-Han was relieved, he felt his heart slow down. He heard the guard and the medic coming this way and they would see him holding you. But he couldn't care less, all that mattered to him now was that you would be okay.

Raiden

Today's training at the Wu Shi Academy was nearly overwhelming, but Raiden couldn't but find it very rewarding. He was not excited for the next part of his day: seeing you.

He quickly gathered together as many flowers as he could find (he couldn't remember what you said your favourite was) and hardly made his way to your personal chambers.

He went to the door and raised his hand to knock. But he hesitated. Was now a good time? He didn't want to bother you. Did you even want to see him.

Finally finding the courage, he knocks lightly on the door. No response.

He knocked again, slightly harder. Once again there was no response. Raiden was starting to feel embarrassed, he turned to leave.

Raiden shook his head and turned back to the door. He was going to leave for Outworld soon, this could be one of the few times he could see you. He knocks on the door much harder this time.

The door slowly creaked open. Raiden then finally noticed that the door looked like it was kicked open, the lockset was knocked out of place.

Raiden felt his heart begin to race, he hesitantly entered your room and found it was a mess. It was filled with shattered glass on the floor, dents in the wall, and some splotches of blood here and there. It looks like a struggle has taken place.

Okay, now he was really concerned.

Raiden rushed in, "Y/n!" he called.

Turning the corner, he finds your body lying there on the floor close to your bedroom. You had a blood trail behind you, you were trying to crawl away. Either from your attacker or to get help. It didn't matter now though.

Raiden felt his heart stop, and he fell to his knees beside you. "By the Elder Gods, who did this to you?" he asked, his voice beginning to shake.

Who would want to do this to you, he thought, what monster would want to hurt such a warm, kind, smart, beautiful creature like you?

He felt his eyes burn, from both tears beginning to form as well as electricity beginning to crackle around his eyes. He didn't even have control over this, all he saw was red. He was usually a gentle person, but he felt something dark come over him here and now.

"I'll find them," He promised "I'll find them, I'll-I'll kill them!" His voice, though calm, had an air of intensity around. Seeing you like this brought the dark out of him that he tried so hard to suppress. But he could care less about it, not right now at least.

Without a warning, your eyes break open. Raiden felt the lightning in his eyes vanish. His anger subsided by surprise and relief.

You wheeze and twist in agony. You feel your broken lungs crunch as you try to speak to him, tell him everything.

Raiden shushes you as he gently takes your hand. "It's okay, Y/n, we'll figure this all out later. Now, we're going to help you."

His finger glimmered with a gentle electricity. he hadn't ever really tried to heal with his amulet before, but for now, for you, he was willing to try.

As he began to work on you, he shivered as he reflected on what happened to him. It felt like he had become a completely different person. A much darker person, a dark Raiden.

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skyahri · 1 month

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Blind |Naruto Men X Uchiha!Reader| HC

Characters: Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Madara Uchiha, Hashirama Senju

Summary: How they handle their partner losing their sight due to the effects of the Mangekyo Sharingan.

Warnings: Mentions of fem, but not very relevant. Mentions of war and loss of sight.

- - - - -

Kakashi Hatake

He knew the day would come when the Sharingan would take your vision, but he didn't know it'd be so soon.

There were no other eyes available to you at the moment, so eternal was not an option.

Not that'd you do it anyway. It was highly against your beliefs to partake in the Uchiha nonsense that was eye swapping.

Something that drew Kakashi towards you in the first place.

You'd been preparing for this day since you first awakened your mangekyo.

You'd memorized the layout of your apartment, practiced roaming the village in a blind fold, and learned braille.

You'd been coping well, Kakashi... not so much.

He couldn't deal with the knowledge that you'd sacrificed your vision for the sake of the village.

You'd given up everything during your years as a shinobi, and this was the icing on top of the cake.

He'd watch you every day.

Watch you drag your hands across the walls of your apartment. Watch you walk a bit too far past the stall in the market. Watched you struggle to do simple things like grocery shopping.

Over time, you'd become worse and worse at eye contact, and that ate him alive.

There were no more longing looks or sneaky glances. Even your attempts to appear as if you could see were slowly declining, and it dampened his mood every time.

He felt as if he'd failed you. If only he'd been stronger, you wouldn't have had to overuse your doujutsu.

But he stayed quiet because you seemed happy. You were alive and safe and happy, and that's all he could ask for.

Shikamaru Nara

After the war, your vision had completely vanished. There were no blurry shapes or deaf perception problems because there was simply no sight.

There was no time to prepare. You hadn't planned on having to use the mangekyo so much in battle, and the price was astronomical.

He tried to help where he could, but you were being stubborn, constantly rejecting any aid he tried to provide.

"Just let me-"

"I told you I can do it myself."

"No, you can't, just let me-"

And that's when he felt the sobs rack through your body. Tears quickly fell down your face and your hands couldn't keep up.

He sighed and forced everything out of your hands.

"I can't do anything anymore."

"That's not true."

You scoffed, a bitter laugh leaving your lips.

"I can't go grocery shopping or cut fruit or put dishes away without running into everything or breaking something or,"

"Give it time. It'll get better."

"Two weeks ago, I was a shinobi. Today, I'm just a blind girl who can barely feed herself."

Shikamaru wasn't sure what to do. Strategy was easy becausebit was all factual. Feelings, though? So many variables he didn't know where to start.

He confided in Kakashi at some point, but wasn't too pleased with the advice he got it.

"Let her figure it out. She's a smart girl."

Despite thinking it was a stupid suggestion, he listened.

Slowly, over time, you'd regained your confidence and became the capable person you had previously been.

Doesn't stop Shikamaru from uncharacteristically babying you sometimes, though.

Sasuke Uchiha

He offered you his eyes, but you declined.

You weren't fond of Uchiha tradition despite being raised by it. Taking his eyes just felt like you'd be starting the new age Uchiha clan off on the wrong foot.

So you chose blindness.

It was difficult at first, but you quickly learned to get around and help yourself with little to no issue.

You'd gone from stumbling around the kitchen to making yourself breakfast within a few months.

Living with out sight wasn't too bad, and you'd grown accustomed to it. You felt like you'd made the right decision.

Until your first son was born.

It wasn't the parenting aspect that you found difficult, it was the emotional one.

When Sasuke told you your son looked just like Itachi, you knew you'd have to see for yourself.

So, you allowed Sakura to do the transplant.

Within seconds after the bandages were off and you had time to adjust to light, your sight was fully restored.

Sasuke brought in your baby, and wouldn't you know it? He looks exactly like Itachi.

The sharingan is based on strong emotions, yeah? Maybe you can base it on love in the new Era.

Naruto Uzumaki

Unlike the others, Naruto finds the whole eye transplant thing horrendous.

"What do you mean by that, huh? You freaks just trade eyes like around? That's the worst thing I've ever heard."

Although he wasn't happy with your newfound loss of sight, he wasn't one to label anything as a downside.

A setback? Sure. Negative? Never.

Hes overall very patient about it, even if in the moment he gets a little ahead of himself.

He's always forgetting that you're blind, so he'll ask you to look at things all the time.

"Hey, what's this?"

You just shrug. He may or may not bring your hand to the object to get a feel, but he mostly just gets embarrassed and drops it.

It honestly hadn't really dawned on him until he asked you to go train with him and you'd refused.

Sure, you could overtime work yourself up to be a shinobi again, but at this point in your life, that just wasn't the dream anymore.

Madara Uchiha

He thinks you're being stupid.

This world is all about power and you're choosing to be blind?

Idiotic.

You may be his wife, but he ignores you for quite some time after you make it clear there will be no eternal in your future.

It's an easy justification for him; he doesn't mingle with the weak.

Life gets pretty lonely after he decides to completely shut you out. Yeah, he sees Hashirama and makes his round through the compound, but it's not the same.

It isn't until he sees you in the village, going about life as you had months ago, that he starts to think maybe he was too hasty.

After all, he had married you for many reasons, and a big one was how skilled you were at adapting.

That night, when he finally returns home, he decides to sleep in your marital bed, not in the guest room.

The next day, he joins you for breakfast.

He came home early from his duties for the first time in a while.

He even started speaking to you once again.

You don't say anything right away. You know how he is about changing his mind, and you aren't willing to push your luck.

Things slowly get better over the span of a few weeks, and that's when you decide it's time to question him.

"I take it you've come to terms with my decision?"

"Of course not. I still think you're a fool."

Just the answer you'd expect.

"But I have missed you dearly."

You smile at him.

Hashirama Senju

The eternal was never something either of you had considered, so when your vision eventually dulled, it was fully expected.

Times were peaceful at the moment, so he had no need to worry for your safety.

You were almost always near someone willing to lay their life down for you- himself, Tobirama (reluctantly), or Madara - so there truly was no need to stress.

He helped as much as he could while also attending to his duties as Hokage.

Unlike Naruto, he had true patience. He happily held your hand every step of the way.

It wasn't long before your life was back on track, no longer burdened by the anxiety that came with cluelessness.

While Hashirama had preferred it never come to this in the first place, he was happy that things had worked out as best as they possibly could.

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httpsleclerc · 6 months

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a villa in biot

summary: Charles and Gasly!reader are in love with the one thing they can't have - each other.

w/c : 1.6k

c/w : terrible ending? nothing, I dont think there actually is any

Charles wasn't quite sure when he had fallen in love with you - But he knew he shouldn't have. You were like a forbidden fruit for him, dangling in front of him, something he could touch, hold, smell, but never have for himself. It was cruel. It was so cruel that you just so happened to be his best friends younger sister, and his younger brothers best friend.

You had all grown up together, Charles and Pierre having done karting together for many years, you had been on family vacations together, he had watched you grow from a shy young girl, attached to her brother at the hip, to a confident young woman, who admittedly, was still attached to her brother at the hip. He found it unfair that you had to be Arthur's best friend and not his, maybe that would make his love for you more justifiable - but how could he tell his younger brother that he was truly, madly deeply in love with you?

To cut a long story short, he couldn't.

He didn't want to hurt you or Arthur, he didn't even know if your feelings were the same as his, and he couldn't face the embarrassment of it all if you didn't. So he had to try and move on. However, as hard as he tried, he couldn't. Everywhere he went, he was looking for you. He dated girls that looked like you, down to a t, but they didn't have your infectious laughter, so he looked for girls who shared your laughter, but they didn't look like you. It was impossible to find you in all of the girls he dated, so he eventually gave up, accepting that he could never have the one girl that he truly wanted, as much as it broke his heart to accept.

As it came time for your annual family vacation with the 3 Leclerc boys, you found yourself newly single, breaking things off with your boyfriend of 3 months due to the fact that he was nothing like how you thought he was - you thought he could fill the Charles shaped hole in your heart. You hated yourself for wanting him, he was your best friends older brother, and your older brothers best friend. As much as you wanted him, you remembered the promise you made to Pierre, that you would never go near any of the people he raced against, especially Charles.

You sighed as you sat on your suitcase, forcing it shut and having Arthur zip it shut for you, he shook his head as he grabbed your hand and helped you up onto your feet.

"How much did you pack, we're only going for 4 nights?" Arthur asked you with a chuckle, looking at your suitcase and then you as you shrugged with a grin.

"Just because you're a guy and can fit all of your things into your backpack, some of us are actually civilised," You jokingly critiqued your best friend, who feigned offence at your 'mean' comments. "And anyway, I wasn't sure on outfits so I had to take two options for at night, I'm probably gonna be in a bikini for most of the day anyway." You told him, acting as though your explanation was the most common knowledge thing on earth.

"I'm going to go out on a crazy whim and suggest that you haven't shown Pierre your choice of bikini's, because he was not happy when me and you went to Ibiza when we turned 18 and you were like, half naked," Arthur reminded you, your joint 18th birthday trip to Ibiza had been eventful, with Arthur getting so drunk he forget where your hotel was and you, even drunker, had to try and find him through his Snapchat location.

"You weren't complaining that week, Tutur," He shook his head at your comment and put your suitcase on it's wheels, saying that he would carry it down the stairs for you. You also knew that Charles wasn't complaining about your instagram pictures that week, since he was the first person to like every photoset that you posted.

Charles watched as you leaned against your brother, your face illuminated by the orangey-red glow of the fire burning in front of you, a half glass of the last of the limoncello in your hand, which Pierre took from you, despite your protests.

"It's late and you're already drunk, take it easy," He gently scolded you, since he understood that maybe you were drowning your sorrows following your recent break up. Pierre huffed as he stood up, placing the glass on the table beside him. Soon after, Pierre called it a night for himself, placing a kiss on the top of your head and jokingly telling you that he'd know if you drank the rest of the glass of limoncello - Lorenzo and Arthur followed soon after him, leaving only you and Charles in the living room of the Villa you had rented in Biot. Charles shifted to sit beside you, his heart racing as he realised just how close the two of you now were.

"How's your boyfriend?" Charles asked you, watching as you nervously fiddled with your hands and the ring on your finger, one that Pierre had bought you for your 21st birthday a couple of years ago.

"I broke up with him," You deadpanned to Charles, any semblance of a filter you had disappeared completely when you were drunk. You looked up at him, a flicker of desire burning in your eyes. "He wasn't who I thought he was. How's your girlfriend?" You asked him, noticing the way his eyes flicked away from yours.

"We broke up, same reason as you," He told you. The two of you sat in silence for a minute, you leaning into Charles' embrace as he put his arm around you. "Who did you think your boyfriend was?" Charles asked you, his voice dropping lower than you had ever heard it. You licked your lips, your breath shaky as you looked up at the Monegasque driver.

"I thought he was you, Charles," You admitted quietly, having no time to react before he leant into you, pressing his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. You leaned into his kiss, your hands snaking up to the back of his head, hands entangling through his brown hair. Then you suddenly sobered up. Oh God. You were kissing your best friends older brother. Your brothers best friend. Oh God.

Oh fuck. You abruptly pulled away, unable to look at the middle Leclerc sitting in front of you. "I um," You stuttered over your words, the words which you wanted to say but couldn't force out. "I should go to bed, goodnight Charles." You didn't mean to be so abrupt and harsh with him as you stood up, wobbling a little as you made your way into yours and Pierre's shared bedroom, your aforementioned older brother already asleep and hanging out of the single bed in the opposite corner of the bedroom.

You and Charles managed to get through the rest of the vacation without many hiccups, the other 3 boys on the trip putting your strange moods down to your respective recent breakups. Upon yours and Arthurs return to your shared apartment in Italy, you realised that you were lying through your teeth to your best friend, about how you had all but confessed to Charles how much you loved him, and your heat of the moment kiss with him.

And you almost forgot about what had happened in the villa in Biot.

Then he was at your apartment, his eyes rimmed red as if he had been crying, looking pitiful as he sat on the couch.

"Charles, what are you doing here?" You asked, dropping your bag beside the sofa and sitting beside him, unsure of what to do to try and comfort the older Monegasque. He sniffled as he shook his head, looking up at you as he stood up. "Charles?"

"What?"

"What is going on? Why are you here?" You stood up and faced him, looking up into his eyes as he looked down at you. "Tell me what is going on. Please." There was a tense silence as Charles looked away from you, shaking his head as he pulled back from you.

"I need to know, Y/N," He was almost pleading with you, but you didn't know what to tell him, you didn't know what he wanted from you, what he wanted to know. You shook your head with an exasperated sigh.

"You need to know what, Charles? I don't know what you want from me," You were growing increasingly frustrated. He grabbed your hands, and you locked eyes.

"I need to know. Do you love me?"

You went silent, it was like all the air had been sucked from your lungs, and your brain was no longer processing anything. What did you tell him? Would you be honest and admit your undying love for him? Or would you think of your friendship with Arthur, and your promise to Pierre?

...

"I love you, Charles."

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles lechair #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #Charles Leclerc angst #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc #pierre gasly x reader #Pierre Gasly x sister!reader #lorenzo leclerc #ferrari

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ippipo · 3 months

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Stage

Masterlist | Part 1

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Marriage is very confusing, especially arranged marriage. You both were here for a reason and you are benefitting from this marriage. Your ideas, being sinfully similar, didn't require much conversation.

You have done some fucked up shit in your life that still haunts you to this day. Maybe it was the neglect you faced as a child, you don't really know the cause. But all these mistakes were made in your teenage years and you are well aware that you would never do those things again. You're a healed person after all.

One thing remains the same. You can't trust easily. Over the past years, you've built up this empire of your feelings, guarded with the toughest walls and equipped with the strongest weapons. God forbid if you ever let it all crumble over one person.

There was a facade you always maintained. A cheerful facade. You act as if you're sunshine and daisies, tactfully deceiving those who ever interact with you into believing you only have the purest of intentions. Though, you don't have any ill intentions, but you're always ready for a kill, if they come too close.

Your emotions weren't foreign to you. No matter how aware you are of yourself, you still pretend that you rather not have these emotions. A cringy act. That's what your life has become. You molded yourself into this perfect persona for others to perceive you as they prefer that you no longer know what is you and what is not you.

Marrying Satoru was intriguing. You couldn't figure out what he really wanted. You didn't know what facade to keep. You were stuck in a spiral of personality molds that you could shape yourself into, but it never seemed to satisfy him. Almost as if he doesn't care.

So all you did was ignore him. You did what you usually do and moved on about your life. You did act emotional in order to make him pay more attention to you, which worked, but that was because he did it out of obligation, not instinct.

Disappointed with the lack of progress, you decided to give up the act all together. Now this seemed like a good opportunity for Satoru. He knew what this play was. He was so familiar with it, because he's one of the actors too.

Manipulation came to him like breathing, a second nature almost. He loved this play as much as you did. He loved the arranged marriage trope as much as you did. He loved wanting to make his life into a play where only he can control the characters as much as you did.

That's how both of you began. A single celled marriage. Mix and Max, tick and tock, beep and boop. Whatever ridiculous word pairings humans came up with. You never communicated verbally unless it was for food or meeting the in-laws.

You both communicated through actions. Like grunting while putting down the keys harshly on the desk at Satoru's desk, a sign that the trope of this particular scene was enemies to lovers forced into an arranged marriage.

He would play his part gracefully. Making you a cup of tea and placing it begrudgingly on the kitchen counter so you could hear the clink of the tea cup on the marble before slamming the door to go to work.

The next day, he would purposefully mess up your work files, displacing them and rearranging their order indicating that it was a scenario where you would say something hurtful to him, making him cry and realising too late that you hurt him, coming back home and apologizing with pure regret.

You would get the hint. However, since you both made an unspoken pact that you will never directly confront each other, you aggressively tear his most "cherished" shirt given to him by his drunkard friend, all while he was watching you with pain.

Then you come back from work with a gift and a sticky note on which you drew ':('. He would then walk past you, not so subtly smelling your hair, for the act of course, and make coffee for the both of you, indicating that the scenario was perfectly played out.

One time, you would send him a picture of him with his female coworker, followed by a text saying "I knew it." Nothing was actually happening. It was just an indication that the next act you were about to play was a scenario of misunderstanding.

He gets the message, and he plays his role well. He comes home later than usual, eats dinner outside for two days, makes sure to see you as little as possible so you would play your role of overthinking and hyperventilating.

You, on the other hand, make dinner for two, just for the act. Sleep on the couch while waiting for him, whilst the food on the kitchen counter runs cold, just for the act. You look at him with eyes of betrayal, for the act.

He would then come home early. Decorate the house and present you with all the love he has in store for your 1 year anniversary, making you realise he wasn't cheating. Then you both sleep on the same bed, close to each other by proximity, far apart in the heart, but close to love, only the love in the act.

This routine, however, became troublesome when you both were faced with real situations outside of your little amusing plays. But that was also the start of a bond between you and Satoru.

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk satoru #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo satoru

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 6 months

Text

Everything Stays

Pairing: Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: this made me feel things 🥲, canon character death, war, trauma, grief, siblingxsibling, regret, guilt/shame, Rhysand's family have names in this fic, fingering, blame, sorry no happy ending 🙃, goes downhill very fast, so yeah be prepared for that, had a deep hunger for a big bowl of sadness

Words: 4857

Summary: You should have been there with your mother and sister. You should be dead

"What are you doing here?!" Your mother's hiss would put a stop to any fun you and your brother were having. Really, it was rather dangerous for a young fae child like you to follow close behind your mother and brother as they traveled to the Illyrians mountains. The war camps weren't meant for little girls. If someone else had found you, they would have immediately clipped your wings before your father could get ahold of you.

Elowen usually had a gentle personality but when of her children dared to act stupidly, she wasn't afraid to show a bit of tough love. Especially toward her stubborn daughter. Little Isolde didn't mind being left back at father's court.

"Run!" Rhysand shrieks at you with a wild grin while Cassian hoots and hollers in support.

With a squeal, your wings start to flap; preparing your body to pick up wind. Only you're not fast enough for take off. Elowen grabs you by your ankle before you could really put distance between you and ground. Not like that would help you much. Your mother was a fast flyer.

"I tell you to stay home for a reason! You could've been killed following us!" Then she turns her attention to the two boys who were attempting to sneak away. "And you two! Both of you knew and let her? You're supposed to look after her."

"But I wasn't hurt!" You argue, trying to twist yourself out of your mother's grip. "I kept up with all of you without even being spotted!"

She's exasperated by you, you could see that on her face as she pinches at the bridge of her nose. "You willful girl."

You think she's upset or even worse, disappointed, until you watch her shoulders move as she chuckles softly. You may exhaust her, but you're constantly surprising her.

"As punishment, you have to stay by my side at all times when we're in the war camp. Understand?" Elowen chides but it was a fairly light sentence for you.

Smiling over at your brothers, they share your sentiment with their own large grins.

It was hard enough separating you from Rhysand to begin with, but since Cassian joined the family it was now near impossible to separate you from the two of them.

The three of you would not have carefree childhoods. Elowen knew this as she watches the three kids run around in the tall grass before Rhys and Cass were forced to go down to the base and train with the other young bloods.

Her eyes are glued particularly to you and Rhys who is fixing a weed that took the shape of a common flower into your hair. He's proven to be the sweetest brother through the years. First with you then with Isolde, but you had a special place in Rhys' heart. There was a depth to the relationship between the two of you that your mother couldn't quite place. If it were any other children, she would say that they might have had a crush on each other. That they were in love. Which to Elowen, looking at you and your brother, seemed obvious. Of course there's love between the two of you. You're siblings and strikingly close in age. However, sibling love wasn't it either.

"Mama!" your hands grasp at her arm, jerking to get her attention. Owlishly blinking, she gazes down at the roundness of your face. "Rhys and Cass says it's time for them to head to training. And you said I can't be away from you at the camps, so. . ." To make a point, you tug her toward where said boys were already heading down the mountain to where the Illyrian camp was.

Elowen breathes out a laugh and nods. She lets you continue to pull her along the path, her wings unfurling. You marvel at them. They were living testament to the grace and strength of your mother. You hope to one day have wings as beautiful as her's.

The dress your mother made you for your coming of age ceremony was by far her best work yet. Isolde oo's and ah's at the glittering jewels that look like stars and the shining of the silver thread meticulously stitched into it. She's gentle with the way she touches the dress, as if it were a sacred garment.

You kneel down with her on the ground. "Mother really outdid herself this time, didn't she?"

Isolde nods enthusiastically. "I don't know how she does it. She's so fast with needle and thread." You saw the admiration in her eyes. Much like you did, Isolde adored your amazing mother. She'd been learning how to sew slowly, even embroidery similar to the fine details on your dress.

Lovingly, you play with one thick strand of her dark hair. Play with it and catch the undershades of it from the sunlight. Isolde had the darkest hair that it looked the darkest shade of blue. "Are you excited for tonight?"

Your younger sister snorts a laugh, something she'd picked up from you much to your father's dismay. "This party is for you. And you're asking me if I'm excited? Are you excited?"

Indifferent, you shrug. This would just be like the many other parties and balls put on through Prythian. Only difference was that it was dedicated to you. Honestly, you had more fun watching your siblings enjoy themselves. Especially when Rhysand would dance with Isolde and Elowen. Even cuter was Cassian stepping in to take her hand for his own dance.

"I guess I'm a little excited." You hum and stand back up to stretch your legs. "It's fun to watch all of the different courts mingle together. Looks weird how different each fae is from their respective court."

Isolde purses her lips, hands retracting from the gown as she gazes up at you with doleful eyes. "This party also means that father intends to find you a husband."

Yes, it was something both you and your siblings dreaded. The day your father would give you away to another important lord who would take you away from your family. Something Rhysand had brought up late last night when you'd snuck into his room. He knew it made grim pillow talk, but it was on both of your minds as your coming out ceremony. There would be nothing he could do to keep you in his arms. Not when your father was still the High Lord.

"Yeah. . . lets hope it'll take him a while to pick one out for me." You were still safe, at least for tonight. Tomorrow would be a different battle for you. "For now though, I'm free."

You don't like how your sister's expression is now heavy with sadness. For being younger than you, Isolde was already an inch taller than you were and easily wraps her arms around your neck to bring you into a hug. Your cheek brushes against the softness of her hair, inhaling the sweet jasmine that scented her tresses. Elowen once joked that the real parents to Isolde might as well have been you and Rhysand. Since your sister's birth, you and your brother did treat her like your baby. To the high faes, babies were more precious than any gold or gemstone and you and Rhysand treated her as such.

"I don't want you to ever get married." She whispers and you can't help the giggle that bubbles in your chest and past your lips. A sentiment she'd shared with you plenty times before. It was everyone's one major fear. Well, except for your father. He thought it was long past for you to be engaged. You'd heard him mention something about clipping your wings once. So that you wouldn't be able to fly away from your chosen spouse. Thankfully Elowen had quickly shut that down vehemently. No daughter of her's would have their wings clipped for as long as she lived.

"I know. I don't every want to get married either."

"Except for Rhysand?"

Sharply inhaling, you pull away from her to give her a stern look. "Isolde, we all know that's impossible. You shouldn't say those things out loud. What if someone else heard?"

"He'd be a good husband for you though! And that would mean you wouldn't have to ever leave us." she argues back.

She doesn't mean anything bad by it, but you couldn't risk anyone hearing your conversation. You lower your voice to a whisper. "He's my brother. No one in Prythian would allow it. Because. . . because siblings can't be mates. Can't marry each other."

Still not quite understanding, her lips fumble with more questions but you merely shake your head and pat her cheek.

"No more of this, Isolde. Please."

Hating to upset you, she closes her mouth and stiffly nods. Isolde murmurs out an apology but you dismiss it. There was nothing for her to apologize for.

You sigh and instruct her to start getting ready for the night's festivities. Ducking her head, she leaves you alone in your room to ruminate on your own dreary thoughts.

This truly was the beginning of the end for you.

Pleading with your own tears not to fall, you lean against a bedpost as it was the only source of support in that moment.

If only you were able to be with Rhys. To live out the rest of your days with him, happily ruling the Night Court together. If anyone knew of these thoughts you had, they would immediately condemn you. Marrying cousins was all fine and dandy, but immediate blood like siblings was another thing that was completely looked down upon both by the fae and human society. Rhysand would never be allowed to take over as High Lord and you would never be seen as a queen. Any children you had together. . . there'd be many cruel words slung at any children. In the courts, the lords regard you and your siblings as halflings due to your mother's Illyrian lineage.

Cassian was the only one worthy to know your secret, and apparently Isolde too to some extent, that you and Rhysand were actual mates. That rare connection which not many faes experience in their lifetime. Five years ago it finally snapped in place, confirming to your joy (and horror) that you and Rhysand were destined to be together in a intimate way. Rhysand was over the moon but understood the trouble that would come from this.

This was a secret difficult to keep hidden since you were official mates. Rhys would display the typical protectiveness of males when they're around their mate.

With stiff fingers, you lift up your hairbrush. You had to get ready too.

Through the whispers of your bond, you feel Rhysand's own trepidation.

Deep breaths, my love. Your mind attempts to soothe him, a hand to a cat's arching back. Rhysand's tendrils caress against that calming thought. You wish nothing more than to nuzzle against his conscious. Let Rhys sweep you up and take you back to the mountains. Back to the cabin that was filled with both wonderful memories and those splattered with blood. The only place where the both of you could be yourselves without discriminating stares.

You give yourself a once over when you finish putting on the last details of your outfit. A bundle of red poppies mixed with the dainty white dots of baby's breath are strewn in your hair. One who was savvy with the language of flowers would understand: poppies for 'I am not free' and baby's breath for 'everlasting love'. Your only flag of rebellion against the High Lord of the Night Court.

Outside in the hall, you already hear the faint sound of revelry vibrating from the main audience hall where drinks were freely flowing. A few sconces fixed to the corridor's walls cast a warm, orange glow that gave you a false sense of security. Instead of heading for the rest of the party, you turn the other way to where Rhys' rooms were. He probably wasn't ready yet. Your brother liked to be fashionably late to everything.

When you get to his door, you hear other voices from his side. The low, gravely chuckle of Cassian and Azriel's calming tenor. Being the typical snooping sister, you take a mini step forward, hold your breath and press your ear to his door.

"You have us. Tonight will be fine." Cass reassures his brother and you can practically image his broad grin that made his rugged features soften. "We won't let you do anything stupid."

That only causes your brother to groan. "You're the one who always encourages me to do stupid things!"

Az's laugh sounds incredibly close, in fact he probably already knew you were there on the other side eavesdropping thanks to his tattling shadows. "I'll be the one to make sure neither of you do anything stupid."

All three share another laugh. Your own smile curling on your lips made your cheeks hurt. How you loved your three idiots. Why couldn't the Cauldron have fated you to fall in love with Cassian or Azriel? It would make things easier for everyone.

I would not have it any other way. Rhys' voice rings in your head right before his bedroom door swings open.

You squeal and stumble backward but Rhys snags your waist and lifts you off of your feet to be unceremoniously thrown over his shoulder. "Put me down!!" The other two males playfully jeer at the little door mouse that was caught.

"Naughty girl!" He merely laughs and throws me onto his plush bed.

"You could have ruined my hair!" You glower at him once you finally manage to sit up. The three of them are giggling like school girls. You swat Rhysand's hand away when he tries to tuck a stray strand behind your ear.

"Ah don't worry. You still look drop dead gorgeous." Cassian grins. "Unfortunately for the males out there tonight. We fear Rhysand might claw out a few eyes."

"And it would serve them right for looking at his mate like that." You nod, supporting any and all eye gauging. That makes Cassian hoot a laugh.

Azriel chuckles as he goes to Cassian and throws an arm around the other's shoulder. "We'll wait for you two downstairs. Don't keep us waiting."

Their laughter was still audible, even with Rhys' bedroom door closed. Finally alone, Rhysand sinks beside you onto the bed. His fingers are soft as a brush against your cheek.

"You do look beautiful tonight." Rhysand murmurs in that sultry way that was an instantaneous knee shaker. "And I really fear I might attack any male that gazes at you with interest." The darkening tone of his voice tells you of what he wishes to do with you. His hand going to the back of your neck to press you closer to him was enough of a tipoff.

If you let him though. . . the other males at the party would be able to smell him all over you.

Choosing to be the responsible one, you pull away. "Rhys. You promised to be on your best behavior."

He just chuckles and pulls you toward him again. "I don't know what you're talking about. I am behaving, sweetling." His cheek brushes against your's as he goes in to graze your neck with his sharp teeth. The roaming hands on you said otherwise. Rhysand cupped your ass, nearly lifting you off the floor with his strength. "You, however, are not behaving. I can smell your needy pussy."

Your breath catches in your throat when he turns you around and bends you over his bed. You want to fight him off, really you do, but the moment he pushes the skirts of your dress up you knew you were a goner. You'd let him do whatever he wanted.

"Just a taste, sweet girl." Rhysand separates your thighs to reveal your glistening lower lips. He dips two fingers in you. Your fingers grip at the bed sheets while you smother your face to keep all moans inaudible. Hips betray you when you find yourself grinding against his fingers. The obscene squelching noise from Rhys pumping his fingers in and out of you has your whole body shivering.

Rhysand knew your body better than anyone else. Knew how to make you come undone with just a few strokes and rolling of your clit. Your pussy walls clench around his fingers, restricting their movements or trying to. Rhys was relentless, grinning at your pitiful cries, muffled by the blankets you smother your face with.

Pulling his fingers out as you finish riding out your orgasm, Rhysand licks away the milky cream that coated his fingers. You wonder how he plans on hiding his erection. It was obvious as it strained against the dark fabric of his trousers making a visible tent.

Nonchalantly, Rhysand helps you to stand after cleaning you up a little with a discarded shirt of his. "Alright. Now we're ready."

You gawk at him, your cheeks still flushed. "You're not ready! Look at your dick! Poor thing is straining in your pants."

He loudly laughs and reaches down into his pants to readjust his cock. Settling it against the band of his pants. "There. Better?"

"Not really since the others are going to-" Your brother cuts you off with a heated kiss.

"Stop fretting, sweetling. This evening is supposed to be fun right?" Rhys smiles, tucking a few strands of your hair back into place. He appraises your face by tilting it ever so gently to make sure nothing else was out of place. With a satisfied smile, Rhysand's hand falls to hold your's. "Lets go show everyone my beautiful girl."

Perhaps Rhysand did too well of a job in showing off his goddess-like sister because now all male eyes were glued to you. Hungry eyes that were starting to tick off your brother the longer he was by your side.

Eventually Azriel and Cassian pull him away, saying that they should get some drinks while you mingled.

You weren't alone for too long though. The High Lord of the Night Court takes Rhysand's place. He steers you toward his influential friends and fellow High Lords. Particularly the gold haired members of the Spring Court.

Cordially smiling, you play along. All the while you can feel Rhysand's eyes watching your every movement. His thoughts flowing freely to you. His jealous snarls when Tamlin dares to ask you for a dance has you giggling.

He was a good dancer, you'd give him that. Excellent on his feet. Easy on the eyes too (that musing had Rhys fuming).

As Tamlin twirls you around, you happen to catch your father and Tamlin's speaking to one another while casting glances over at the two of you.

You didn't like the way they conspiringly whisper to one another.

And neither did Rhysand as he and his brothers linger closely to eavesdrop. There was a slim chance that your father would betroth you to Tamlin, the youngest of the Spring Lord's sons. Ideally your father would want the eldest son, Pryr.

When the dance ends, you pull from Tamlin with a smile though he seems reluctant to release your waist. "Thank you for the wonderful dance, Tamlin."

"If you're up to it, I'd be more than happy to be your partner for the next." Tamlin proposes.

Not likely, Tam. You hear Rhysand hiss through your bond.

And on perfect cue, Isolde bounces between you and Tamlin. She beams up at you with those pretty amethyst eyes and gives you a quick wink. "Wow Tamlin! You were amazing! Can I be your partner for the next dance?"

You see he's prepared to say no but was struggling to phrase it as nicely as he could. "That's a wonderful idea, Isolde! A talent like Tamlin's should be shared." You turn expectantly to Tamlin. "You'll take care of her, right?"

"But-"

"Of course he will!" Isolde snatches Tamlin's hand and pulls him back to the dance floor.

You definitely had the best sister ever.

You flee to where your three Bat Boys were standing before Tamlin could realize what had just happened. Cassian is trying to hide his laugh.

"I don't think you could've gotten out of there faster than you did. Thought I saw your wings carrying you." Cass chuckles and hands you a glass filled with rose flavored alcohol. You lean along the wall with them, between Rhysand and Azriel, as you watch the rest of the partygoers. Tamlin's older brothers were stuck to their father as usual. The perfect sons. Observing as the High Lord of Spring murmurs to his oldest son. Pryr's eyes suddenly lock onto your's.

Quickly you avert your gaze and go to drinking from your glass.

Rhys doesn't miss it either.

Sweet days with your siblings were over and any thoughts of your engagement were set aside. War was battering the world at all angles that didn't leave you and your family exempt. A battering of wings against slings of arrows and offensive magic alike. You saw bodies fall from the sky. The dry dirt soaking up the still warm blood of comrades. You'll never get that smell out of your head for as long as you live. Nor the fear that seized you when you cared for a wounded Rhysand, Cassian or Azriel. Your fingers ached from the long hours you were forced to brandish your blade against oncoming enemies of Hybern.

You saw your mother and sister less and less. Your father raged that you should also be left behind with them. Being a female and all. There was no way that you were leaving Rhys' side. The High Lord of the Night Court really should have clipped your wings when he could. Constantly disobeying him thanks to the ability to fly, you followed the war camps much to his displeasure. He couldn't keep you away.

Rhysand himself tried a few times to talk you out of fighting alongside him. The hardening of your eyes was enough to shut Rhysand up and accept the fact that there was no getting rid of you. If it meant you could potentially die next to him, so be it. A death with Rhysand didn't sound so bad to you.

The four of you persevered though. Hybern was all but defeated. There were still a few lingering troops left in Prythian but nothing your army couldn't handle. It was the end of the road for them.

"Mother and Isolde will be in the southern Illyrian camp." You grip the small note in your hand, smiling. You hadn't seen them in months.

Rhysand pats his lap and you flutter over to him, perching yourself on his strong thighs. His elegant hand takes the note from you and examines it. "I don't think we'll be able to get there until tomorrow. There's still so much to be done here."

The tip of your cold nose finds warmth against Rhysand's neck. He puffs out a laugh from the contact and wraps his arm around you to offer you extra heat. "I'll have someone take over our own missive to let them know." Your fingers toy with the deep dip of Rhysand's collarbone. His eyes flicker as he uses his to reach out to someone through his daemati skill to have them pass it along to his mother and sister.

He's practically purring at your merest touch, his needy hands softly groping you.

You giggle and shake your hand. "Rhys. You said so yourself. We're quite busy." You were never one to deny your brother anything, but there were more important tasks to attend to than letting him rail you in his tent.

Dramatically, Rhysand throws his head back and sighs; hands reluctantly release you but not before he gave your ass a little smack. "As always you're right. Do you know how annoying that is?"

Chuckling you hold your hand out to him. "Come on. I want to finish up so we can see mom and Izzy bright and early."

The following morning you make your sleepy way to the river to refill your canteen.

Bobbing in the gentle waters were odd boxes.

Quizzically, you flick your hand to send your magic to fish them out. Once placed in front of your feet, you kneel to the ground and examine it. Doesn't look like anything out of the ordinary. But it's presence here in the mountains made you grab a knife to flip open one of the lids with the blade. Cautious.

Large, void amethyst eyes stare up at you.

The horrific sound of your screaming shattered the once quiet mountain. Earth shaking under you as you hold up Isolde's severed head, both hands clutching at her cold and stiff cheeks.

You just couldn't stop wailing.

Couldn't bring yourself to open the other box.

Even when tears cloud your vision, you can still make out the blurry features that had once been flush with life and love. Your screams were of utter pain, pure and guttural that were ripped so viciously from you.

You didn't notice the others crowding around you.

Didn't recognize your brother's hands or Azriel's scarred ones that hurriedly fly over your eyes. Someone removes Isolde's head from your grip.

You understand your body was moving. That someone was trying to quiet you with soft, tender words. Anything that would beckon you from your hysteria.

"We need to do something!" Cass' voice is so far away.

There's more screaming but you don't know if the voice voice still belonged to you. Didn't have the chance to find out before you black out.

Even when you come to, you're still in shock; unable to comprehend the savagery.

You'd been out for only a short amount of time but it was enough for you to have been moved to a bed. Did Rhys winnow you to the cabin?

The last person you were expecting to be in the room with you was the furious High Lord, your father, Rhain. When he registers that your eyes are open, awake, his stride is fast and soon he grabs the front of your shirt despite shouting coming from the healers.

"YOU."

Your lips dumbly part, words fail you as you attempt to weakly lift your arms to push him off of you.

But Lord Rhain gives you a good shake that rattles your brain in your skull. "You should have been with them." He kept shaking you. His words were hard to decipher as his speech became more growling than vocabulary.

"Let go of her!"

"She should be dead too!" You'd never seen such an expression on anyone's face. Not when you were killing others in the war. Rhain's features were twisted between the features of fae and monster.

Cassian and Azriel struggle to hold back the Night Court's High Lord. Especially in the state that he was in right now.

Rhysand trusts the two at his back to handle Rhain while he tends to you. "It's okay- Did he hurt you? Look at me, please."

Your eyes rapidly flutter, no dam was strong enough to stop the large tears that build over your eyelashes and drip down your cheeks. "I- What happened was real then. . ." You can't look at him. His eyes painfully remind you. . .

A sob is caught in your throat as your chest heaves. You turn your face to the side.

"The Spring Court did it." Rhysand hisses and grips your hands tightly in his. His warmth felt painful, like they would leave blisters to your ice cold hands. He repeats your name when your gaze wanders to Rhain still putting up a fight against the burly arms of your adoptive brothers. "Please look at me. My love, my heart, please look at me."

Lips quivering, you shake your head. "I can't. I can't. Your eyes-" You gulp down air as grief reaches high up into you and squeezes your heart. "Isolde- Isolde-"

"That's right! If you had been with them-" Your father's words were cut off by Rhysand's commandeering voice.

"Get him out of here!"

The bobbing heads of others gather at the door to assist the general and spy master.

Could. . . could you have prevented their deaths?

"Don't listen to him." Rhysand immediately reads that echoing voice. "None of this is your fault."

You'd just wanted so desperately to remain by Rhysand's side. Being away from him, well, you'd never accomplished being away from him except for when he went through the Blood Rite. You hadn't slept the entire time he and the others were fighting for their lives.

W-was this retribution for your abnormal relationship with your brother?

A ragged sob has you curling into yourself.

There was truth to Rhain's words.

"(y/n)." Rhys near pleading in tone. Through the telepathic bonds mates were graced with, you hear his actual begging.

Please look at me.

Don't believe our father.

(y/n).

Please.

I love you.

All Rhysand saw rolling in your mind was the image of Isolde's head in your trembling hands.

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alabamasweettea · 3 months

Text

wake up call

( no bc Barry looks so sweet in this gif I can't )

Fandom: Eternals

Pairing: Druig x mutant!reader (siphon like rogue but w/o the life force bit)

Warnings: none really

When you joined forces with the eternals - a mere mutant, but powerful nonetheless - you never expected to become close with them. Sersei in particular took a liking to you, promising to style your hair and do your makeup sometimes. The days and nights were fun, to say the least. You hung out, introduced Ikaris to the concept of smiling, et cetera.

You loved to watch them work, often crouching and sucking some of Sprite's power to hide yourself in the shadows when you weren't needed, simply watching as the troupe fought yet another stray deviant.

Ikaris was always amazing to see; twin bolts of something hotter than hot zapping straight from his eyes. It was exhilarating, to be frank. Sersei was gorgeous, as usual; her long, fluid movements perfectly calculated for each strike. The rest were not super outstanding, you supposed, though one of them stumped you.

Druig. A seemingly moody teenager type, he tended to stick to the shadows. What kind of a name was that anyway? In any case you barely knew what he could do because he never used his powers.

In fact, you barely knew anything about him, other than he liked to call you "witch" for no reason at all. It wasn't a really affectionate or even pleasing nickname, you often thought.

It was always, "Morning, witch," when he came into the kitchen only half dressed for a piece of toast; or "Need help, witch?" when you couldn't reach something on a top cupboard. Still topless, he made it a habit to press against your back intentionally as he got it for you.

Stupid eternal, you'd think as you scampered back to your room. What's wrong with getting it like a normal person?

To be fair, you deliberately chose cups on the very top shelf... maybe he felt the same weird thing in his stomach as you did when his body molded against yours. You supposed you'd never know.

You did suppose, but Ajak sent you to wake Druig up one Saturday morning, and you realized he usually woke up like clockwork at around 6, but it was 7:15 and he hadn't even gotten out of bed.

"Druig?" you asked, tapping on the door of his room. The old hinges creaked; the door was open. You walked inside with haste before stopping in your tracks.

Wh- Woah.

The man was shaped like a Greek god, all spread-eagled on his bed. Limbs hung over the side as he slumbered peacefully half on his side, half on his stomach.

Wow. Just wow.

His back was completely exposed and the sheets were pulled back, showing the curve of his hips and just a little lower. You were relieved to find he at least slept in underwear. They came down low, though, much to one part of you's delight.

He stirred, long dark eyelashes fluttering.

"Druig?" You tried again, hoping that now he was lucid enough to answer.

Nothing but a sleepy "hmm~", but it was progress.

"Druig? Love, wake up." Okay. The 'love' was completely unnecessary, but you felt proud of yourself for handling his state of undress so well. So far. You could feel some sense of propriety unraveling within you as you spent more and more time with these eternals.

You didn't want to touch him- but you did, and you were going to admit it to yourself. The wide span of his back practically called your name, and you gave in finally.

His skin was smooth, dotted all over with little freckles. You could feel the bunching of muscles as they flexed under your palm.

TWO ENDINGS FOR THIS ONE (bc i have no life apparently)

ENDING 1:

Something switched on in your mind. You couldn't move- no, you didn't want to. Everything in you suddenly wanted to stay sitting on the bed, even lie down next to him.

Then you noticed his eyes fluttering open, more golden than the sun.

Ah.

"It's unfair to use powers," You tried to remark, but your mouth wouldn't respond. You couldn't pull your hand away.

"Sorry, witch. Force of habit." He chuckled, but didn't turn it off.

This man's gonna be the death of me.

"I can hear you, you know." His eyes were of the brightest gold. They seemed to glow even brighter than before as he began to sift through your thoughts. Finally, he sat up, sleepily stretching. You had to tamp your mouth shut to keep from drooling.

"What are you doing here, witch?" It was said so affectionately that you nearly forgot what you were here for.

"I- Ajak sent me to wake you." You shivered under the weight of his golden gaze, mind struggling against his hold as he combed through it. No- don't let him find-

Shit.

He chuckled, moving his cheek to press against yours. A soft sigh left him as the movement had its desired effect on you: your brain went blank for a while as his own dirty thoughts wormed their way into your mind. It felt odd, but you accepted him all the same, unable to do much differently under his control.

"Oh, you," he finally said when he found what he was looking for, whispering against the shell of your ear, "You naughty, naughty witch."

ENDING 2:

The sleeping eternal stirred again, starting to come out of it. You panicked and tried to return to a respectable distance, and would have if his hand on your wrist hadn't stopped you. His fingers curled around your own hand, dragging it back to his skin.

Your fingertips settled on a spot just below his heart, watching Druig intently as his eyes fluttered open. He normally had the softest, sweetest blue eyes you'd ever seen; though right now they glowed a hungry gold in the dark room.

"Hullo," he said softly, dragging a fingertip down your burning cheek, "What are you doing here, witch? Come to kill me in my sleep?" You shook your head violently, no words forming on your tongue.

"Well, least you can do is come 'ere." And he pulled you into him.

"But Ajak-"

"Can wait. 'M sleeping."

( which ending do you like better? )

#druig x reader #druig eternals #joining another fandom woohoo #eternals #barry keoghan #my fics

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xlxvesxckx · 1 year

Text

[I hope you'll love me one day]. Jotaro Kujo.

synopsis: Having a crush on someone like Jotaro was dangerous. But not because of him. It was the girls who hung around him like buzzards who would make your life hell, when all you wanted was to be loved by your friend.

warnings: bullying, violence, suicidal thoughts, angst, some comfort, jotaro being jotaro near the beginning.

Au: None Pairing(s): Jotaro Kujo x Reader Based off: Some personal experiences of mine (explain more in a/n).

A/n: I wrote this based off some experiences from Highschool of mine, I used to be bullied and I know how it felt to think no one had my back.. I wrote this as a comfort fic for myself mostly, but I know there's others who dealt with this as well. I just want you all to know that you are loved. Someone out there loves you, and if you don't think it then I'll be that person. I hope that you never feel alone again and know that you can turn to me if you ever feel down.

Heres my Kofi if ya wanna support my work! Enjoy the fanfic!

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

‘There he goes…’

You sigh watching the item of your affection walking past you with his unwanted entourage.

Who was this male you may ask?

Well…

His name is Jotaro Kujo, he was the most popular boy in the school, against his will though. He was strong, known for beating up anyone who dared looked at him the wrong way.

You, were Y/n L/n, school outcast basically. You only had two friend to call your own and one was this weird ghost thing that followed you around. You called it piper, it was a pretty ghost like humanoid surrounded by music notes. It was a pale pink color and had no facial features besides a nose and mouth.

You were used to being alone, even when you went home you were alone. So to see someone like Jotaro who had people surround him effortlessly, you couldn't help but like him.

You had several classes with the male and he always peeked your interest, from the day he started back coming to school after being gone for 50 days. You saw something in him that none of the other girls saw.

And that was a normal human being.

"Oi! Y/n!"

You looked up from your spot to see Noriyaki Kakyoin coming towards you. He was one of the popular kids too, he was skilled at the arts and he was practically best friend with Jotaro.

You and him weren't best friends, but you consider Nori close enough to trust.

"Hi Nori! You need something?" You asked as your eyes wandered by over to Jotaro.

Kakyoin followed your eyes and a smirk landed on his features, one that you saw too often.

"Y/n….you already know what I'm about to say.."

"Nope. Nope. You can't make me!"

Kakyoin sighed as he sat beside you. "Come on, the two of you are practically alike! You both like peace and quiet, you both like to stay to yourself" Kakyoin was always trying to get you to admit that you liked Jotaro.

You had attempted to tell him before but that was right before he left for 50 days. When he came back, you could tell that something in him had changed. Kakyoin told you it was him being more sheltered from nearly losing some of his closest friends and family.

You chalked it up to him simply not wanting you around. Hell, you assumed he roped you in with the other girls he found annoying.

Kakyoin would try and keep your hopes up but you didn’t want to risk your feelings being hurt.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was white day. The day where people confessed to their crushes and gave things to the ones that they loved the most.

Your goal was to give Jotaro the sweets you’d worked so long on.

With help from Kakyoin and his mom, you managed to make several different sweets all in the shapes of marine animals since you heard about the stoic males love for marine life.

You made sure to decorate it in stars and made it a pretty black and purple box. “You know, The colors remind me a bit of Star Platinum.” You mumble to yourself and Kakyoin only chuckles at you.

Kakyoin had to basically force you to talk to Jotaro so you can get to know him better, he wanted you to be able to trust Jotaro and not see him as the big hulking brute.

The three of you bonded over being the only stands users, a fact that you guys made sure of. Kakyoin remembers the relief that washed over your face when he and Jotaro showed you their stands, it reminded you that you weren’t alone…and only solidified your crush on Jotaro even more.

“It does. Now, are you actually gonna give it to him?” Kak teases nudging you as the two of you walk to your classes. You looked down at the box in your hand before thinking about it for a second. “If i can get him alone, I will.” “You know well that we are always on the roof for lunch…You can do it then.”

You sighed as You arrived at your classroom, looking at Kakyoin, he gives you a mini salute and heirophant green gives you a little thumbs up. (Your Stand Name) echoes the same emotion that you have before you entered the classroom.

You had to make it past this class period and to lunch.

That all you had to do, seems simple enough right?

“Oh here comes the weirdo~!”

Wrong.

There was a group of three girls that made your life a living hell.

Tsubaki, Neji and Kakura.

They basically were the heads of the weird little group that follows Jotaro around all the time. And because you were a girl, that was close to Jotaro they made your life a living hell. The only other girl they tried to mess with was Evan, but she graduated and always told them off. Evan was kind of your protector and then she had the nerve to graduate.

So now you had to deal with them yourself.

When you walked into class you managed to make it to your seat but as soon as you sat down, the box you worked so hard on was quickly snatched by tsubaki.

The chemically dyed blonde held it in her hand before smirking down at you. “Aww the little weirdo has a crush? Who in the hell would like your ass at this school??”

You stood up to get it back but was forced back into your seat by Neji and Kakura.

"Wait…Is this for Kujo-San?"

"Ooo~ I think it is!"

"What makes you think Kujo-San would actually like this?"

She asked snarkily and you didn't want to answer it, but you started getting scared once you saw him walk into the classroom.

Tsubaki got this awful smirk on her face before standing up. "I'll go ask him myself~" You struggled to get up out of your seat but Neji and Kakura forced to down.

Neji getting out a switch blade before pressing it against your side.

"Move if you wanna bitch." She muttered.

You watched helplessly as Tsubaki walked up to Jotaro.

"Hiii Jojo~! Happy White Day!" She said handing the box to him. "I made this all by myself just for you, because you deserve the best~"

Jotaro raised an eyebrow before walking straight past her. He went to sit in his seat. Which was in the back row 5 seats across from you. You were surprised he even showed up today, you knew he despised this holiday so you wondered why he came.

Tsubaki stomped her foot and walked right back up to him, "Um, Jojo didn't you hear me? I made you a white day gift!" She reiterates, a bit louder this time making the male sigh.

"Yare Yare, if I ignored you then there's your fucking answer." He said coldly and Tsubaki, pouted.

"Well! Since you hated it so much, it's actually from the weirdo over there! Yea! Creepy Y/n made it! I think she's been stalking you because she mad-"

Jotaro cuts her off with a hand raise, You could feel his eyes move over to you. You froze as your eyes looked to where he was, you could see a slight dust of pink glide across his features. And as quick as it came it was gone.

"Didn't I say I don't fucking care? Get away from me." He then goes to a book he brought with him.

Tsubaki angrily looks back at you before walking back over with your box."That was all your fucking fault weirdo!" She yelled before sitting in her seat.

You sighed in relief as her two lackeys went to sit down too, leaving your box bon your desk.

You glanced back over to Jotaro only to lock eyes only to lock eyes with him.

You gave an embarrassed wave and he only gave a tilt of his hat.

That could've went way worst.

—-------------

Oh but it got worse.

After class you went to the bathroom, you wanted to make sure you looked presentable when you officially confessed to Jotaro. When you left the bathroom you went to the stairwell to get to the roof you bumped into the three stooges.

Tsubaki rolled her eyes as she walked over to you.

“Do you really think Kujo-san is gonna like you? He doesn’t like any fucking body.” She starts off rudely and you just try to ignore her, but that seemed like the wrong thing to do.

Tsubaki pulls you back by your shirt and forces you to the ground with a harsh thud. You cry out in pain as your back hits the hard. Tsubaki then reels back her foot and kicks you in the side.

“Don’t you dare turn your fucking back on me bitch!”

You curled up in a ball as her crew comes together to start kicking you, all of them yelling obscenities at you.

“Fucking Bitch!”

“Jojo will never love you!”

“Fucking weirdo!!” “Just Kill yourself already!!”

Your eyes widened at that last statement as tears started to fill your eyes. All you wanted was Jotaro to care about you. Yea he may seem standoffish, mean and rude. But you knew deep down that he was loving and cared about his friends.

All you wanted was for him to recognize you as more than a friend. Not just the weird girl who he has to save from his posse of girls every other fucking day.

You felt useless, you couldn’t even get the energy to summon your stand as you were so weak. It hurt your heart and you just wanted to cry more.

Eventually you broke out into sobs as they continued their assault on you, Kicking and punching you.

Neji landed a particularly hard kick to the back of your head causing you to scream out in pain.

Tsubaki laughed at your suffering “That’s what you fucking get for messing with whats mine!!” She screamed at you.

And as a final blow of disrespect, she opened the box of candy you spelt time lovingly making for Jotaro and dumped it out over you. She then threw the box at your head while she was laughing.

“Come on girls..I’m tired of looking at this disgusting thing.”

You hear the three of them leaving but you don’t have the energy to get up and go after them.

“Kill yourself~! You’re fucking useless Y/n. Face it. He’ll never like you.”

Your entire body hurts. You feel weak, and you feel numb. You took a few hits to the head and could feel yourself going in and out of consciousness.

You didn’t want to go out like this..but with how you feel right now.

You really wanted to.

You should’ve known better than to have feelings for Jotaro, because you didn’t have to be worried about getting your feelings hurt by him.

You had to worry about getting hurt by his fangirls.

“Y/n?..”

Your eyes start getting heavy as you see a pair of shoes coming towards you.

“Y/n! Oh my God! Jotaro get over here quickly! She’s hurt!”

It was Kakyoin and Jotaro. You thought they were already up on the roof, you weren’t expecting them to come later. You wished that they were on the roof. That way if you were severely hurt from your injuries, you would die by yourself, and not in the arms of your friends.

Your feel your body get lifted off the floor and held close to a warm body. You used the remaining part of your strength to look up, locking eyes with a…worried Jotaro?

You couldn’t even question it as you felt yourself slipping to darkness, the last thing you heard was him cursing under his breath and the sound of him running.

“Fuck..Fuck. Please don’t fucking die on me…”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You open your eyes to darkness, looking around to see where you were.

‘Am I dreaming?’

You look down at your hands and see that you’re still in your school uniform. When you look back up you see Jotaro standing across from you with his back turned to you.

You give a weak smile before running over. “Jojo! Hey! Jotaro!” You place a hand on his back before seeing him snatch away from you. He turns to face you with a disgusted look on his face.

“Why the fuck are you touching me?”

You bring your hand with a confused look. “H-huh?..”

“Don’t you fucking huh me. Get the fuck away from me!”

He moves to walk away but you grab his arm. “Wait! Jojo we’re friends remember? Why are you acting like this??” You were on the verge of tears. You were confused you didn’t know where you were and now your friend didn’t want anything to do with you.

He scoffed before pushing you away. “Stay away from me. Do not talk to me ever again, I don’t want to be seen with you.” He started to walk away from you and you went to follow him but was blocked by an invisible barrier of some kind.

“W-wait! Jotaro Please! Please! Don’t leave me!!” You screamed banging on the barrier but it seemed he couldn’t hear you. Tears were now streaming down your face as you banged helplessly trying to get his attention, but he continued to walk away from you, not even bothering to look back.

“Please! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!!!”

You jolted awake in shock, scaring the blonde woman that was sitting at your bed side. “Oh my! You’re awake! I’ll go get Jojo!” You watched the woman hurry out the room, you could barely register what she was saying but when you heard heavy footsteps coming towards the room. You assumed she was getting someone.

When you looked to the doorway that she went through, your eyes widened as Jotaro walked through the doorway. The male walked over to you and sat down near you. “Are…Are you okay?” He asked and you nodded slowly. Jotaro let out a sigh of relief before pulling you into his arms.

He placed his face in the crook of your neck as he held you. You were about to protest before you felt something wet against your neck, “Jotar-” “Shh..Please. Just let me hold you.”

You stayed silent as he rocked back and forth with you in his arms. Jotaro soft cries filled the room and you felt awful. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him as best as you could.

“I thought i lost you…I thought I lost you because of those stupid fucking bitches.” You hear him mutter and he soon lifts his head to place his forehead against yours. This is an emotion you’ve never seen from the male, and it scares you a bit to be honest.

“I came so close to losing all my friends when we went to egypt. I don’t want to come home and lose you.” He raises one of his hands to cup your cheek before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on your lips. You gasp softly, your mind was freaking out, Jotaro is kissing you, he was kissing you!!

Jotaro pulls away and gives you a soft smile. “Hey, say something…I’m trying to make sure you’re alright.” You giggle softly and return the smile. “I’m alright Jojo..just a little shocked right now..after all I thought you-”

“You thought I hated you by the way I acted? Far from it. I was afraid something like this was going to happen. I knew how those girls were. I’m sorry.” Jotaro interrupts before placing your head on his chest. You could hear the soft beating of his heart and was about to talk when he beat you to it. “You hear that?..” He asks and you nods. He chuckles quietly, “That only beats for you. I’m sorry, i promise to protect you from now on.”

“I love you Y/n..”

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

I want all of you to know that if you ever feel down, just know that there is someone out there that loves you. and if you think there isn't, think again because I am one of them. <3

I love you all, take care of yourself please and have a good day/night/afternoon.

#jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #jjba x you #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro kujo #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojos bizzare adventure x reader #jjba scenarios #jjba headcanons #jjba part3 #jjba stardust crusaders #lxve's writings ^~^

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giorno-plays-piano · 11 months

Text

Thorns In His Mouth

Part I

Pairing: fae!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: obsession, dubious consent, minor character death, drugs (neither reader nor Steve are involved), slight eating disorder, mentions of tumor, high tech elves.

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Maybe it was a good idea to chat with a waitress a bit more once she brought you your order. Perhaps she could at least tell you with whom you should speak because you simply couldn't force yourself to look at others, most of them already high, shouting something loudly or laughing or weeping. You could constantly hear the flapping of someone's wings, weird whispers and noises, and the sound of boots and hooves that made your hair stand on end.

________

This place gave you the creeps. You certainly didn't expect it to be the same as those lovely little cafés you enjoyed visiting on your days off, but this hellhole was by far the scariest place you had ever been, and it took all your strength to stay seated at the dirty little table instead of running out to the street.

When you saw one of the fairies to your right preparing a needle as her friends giggled, already drunk or high or whatever, you quickly stared at the table top, praying not to see or hear anything at all. If not the promise given to the elf, you would never ever come here. In fact, you wouldn't even know a place like this existed at all.

You still couldn't believe it when you stumbled upon a man who had healed a stray cat when he thought nobody looked. It was way past midnight, and the street was empty if not for you, stopping to rub your bruised feet - you had worn a new pair of shoes that evening to brag about them to your friends. And then, when you saw the man bringing his glowing hand to the cat's torn ear, you thought you were just drunk. You were certainly old enough to know magic didn't exist, and as you stared at the perfectly shaped cat's ear, you wondered if you're sick or drugged or insane.

You weren't, you realized when the elf rose to his feet, startled by you, his own ears too long and sharp for a human, his too-graceful features making you stare at him with your mouth agape while he stilled, unsure what to do with you. He was most likely to wipe your memories like most of the fair folk did if mortals spotted them in the human realm, but you were lucky to convince him otherwise.

"Hey human," a young woman's voice made you rouse from you thoughts, and you stared at the waitress with bright pink hair and pointed ears in front of your table, her once pretty deep blue uniform soiled and unkept with oily stains covering the fabric here and there. "What's your poison?"

You stared at her, unsure what you should say. Was that some kind of code? The elf didn't mention anything about it. He just said you were most likely to meet fallen elves and other creatures in this place, but he said nothing about poisons. You hoped you didn't have to take any.

"I'm sorry," you smiled meekly at the girl. "I don't think I understand."

The waitress blew a big pink bubble and popped it with her sharp teeth, chewing gum as if she couldn't care less, "If you found this place, I bet you already know who we all are. We're the fair folk, hun. The exiled."

"I know," you said quickly, becoming more and more nervous as if feeling other creatures suddenly started paying attention to you.

"Well, then you should know each of us have our own poison. What's yours?" she narrowed her sharp, cat-like eyes at you, growing impatient. "If you don't have any, you can't be here."

Ah. Yes. An obsession. Each and every of the fair folk living away from the Sacred lands had a certain mania, the elf you met on the street said. Missing the magic surrounding them from the moment they were born, they were bound to have an unhealthy attraction to something else in the world of humans, so foreign to them. When you asked if it was arts or an obsession with human technology, perhaps, the man only chuckled.

"It's drugs," he said, cutting you short.

When you stilled, a troubled expression on your face as you had a hard time processing his words, he added, "But not always. Sometimes, it's alcohol or cigarettes. I heard some have battled their addictions and picked something less heavier to obsess over, but I don't think my brother did. I bet you can find him among drug addicts."

Ah, and so you were there, among the drug addicts and drunks and misfits whose sick smiling faces nearly made you retch as you thought of how to find a man you never saw before and knew nothing of him except for very few details the elf from the street was willing to share. It was nearly impossible, he said, but you couldn't back down on your promise because something much more important was at stake.

"I have an eating disorder," you gave the waitress a polite smile you had been showing to the especially demanding customers of yours over the years. "Does it count?"

Her face suddenly changed, and you saw her smiling widely at you in return as if you having unhealthy relationship with food somehow made you one of them. "Sure! What would that be? Sugar, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I'll be back in a minute, hun," she said too happily and flew back to the counter, passing your order to someone on the back while you nervously licked your lips. What was she going to bring you? Just cubes of sugar? A whole cake? A poisonous cake?

Hiding your hands under the table and clenching the fabric of your wide workpants, you took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on your goal. You needed to find a man the elf was looking for. Maybe it was a good idea to chat with a waitress a bit more once she brought you your order. Perhaps she could at least tell you with whom you should speak because you simply couldn't force yourself to look at others, most of them already high, shouting something loudly or laughing or weeping. You could constantly hear the flapping of someone's wings, weird whispers and noises, and the sound of boots and hooves that made your hair stand on end.

Why were you here, again? Ah yes. For the sake of your sick mother who the elf you met on the street had been treating faithfully for the whole week.

You could do it. You just needed to be careful and stay out of troubles. You only needed to find a lost man and bring him back to the elf.

But, perhaps, it wasn't in your nature to stay out of troubles, you thought when you saw a stranger with rather long bleached hair and pointed ears joining you at the table, his face, certainly very handsome once, looking tired and grim.

"It's not often we have new faces here," he said nonchalantly, tilting his head to the side as you gaped at him, wide-eyed and slightly scared. "Especially human faces. What's your name?"

For a couple of seconds, you debated whether you should tell it to him. You knew the fair folk were prohibited from putting spells on humans, and it was one of the few laws the exiled magic creatures were abiding by, but giving your name to a weird-looking stranger didn't seem like a good idea.

You still didn't know why you told him your name.

"Steve," he replied quickly, throwing a glance at the waitress who was coming back to your table, a cupcake on her tray. "What a sweet obsession you have."

"That's not funny," the pink-haired girl cut in, placing a plate with a bright red cupcake and white frosting on its top on the table for you. "Your usual."

She then handed him a thin black box people used to store CDs, and you eyed it with curiosity. What was that? There was no label on it, no name, nothing that would help to identify it. You weren't even sure it was a CD inside, but you thought it was unlikely to be used for drugs. The disc box looked way to shabby as if it could open any time, and you suddenly found yourself wondering what Steve's obsession was.

Following your gaze, the man grinned, showing you the box. "There's just a CD inside, nothing else. You see, I'm a very boring creature."

"Yeah, sure," the waitress said, narrowing her gaze and quickly returning back to the counter before you had a chance to talk to her.

Irritated, you forced yourself to stay civil, smiling to the stranger sitting in front of you. You just lost your chance to figure out anything at all, and now you had to get rid of him, too.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" You asked politely, hoping he would leave you alone.

"I just said it. We rarely have fresh blood here," he said and then added immediately, seeing your bewildered expression. "Don't fret. I don't mean any harm. I'm just curious to see why a decent human woman ended up in this hole. As you can see, we have very little entertainment here except for booze and stimulants."

Stimulants. What a lovely synonym he found, you thought and ordered yourself to stop, knowing your disgust would soon show clearly on your face, and you certainly didn't want to upset the elf on the other side of the table. You came here for information, nothing else.

"I, uh, I'm looking for someone." you mumbled, staring man in the face and seeing his eyes were blue like the opening sky, and that his cheekbones were high and wide, and his lips, albeit dry and cracked, were full and well formed. He'd look lovely if not the shadows beneath his eyes, hollow cheeks, and wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth that looked strangely unnatural on his young face.

The more you looked at him, the more his strikingly handsome eyes seemed hollow to you.

"Searching for a friend? A lover?" The elf asked you as if he didn't mind you staring at him intently, and you snapped out of your thoughts, chewing your lips as you glanced at the cupcake waiting for you on a plate.

"Neither. I'm looking for a relative of my... friend." The second you said it, he gave a hearty laugh, shaking his head as if you said something amusing, and your cheeks heat up. Why was he laughing at you? You did your best to swallow your protest, acting as polite as a store clerk in the presence of their boss. "Why is it funny?"

_______

"Don't mind me," Steve chuckled, wiping his lips with his thumb. "I don't suppose you know what it's like to deal with the fair folk from the Sacred lands. To put it simple, they just love it when somebody's willing to do their bidding. That's what it all is about, right? Some elf or fae or phooka asked you to search for their relative in exile."

Part II

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @melodierin @yeolliedokai @what-is-your-wish @lou-la-lou @gachawipes133 @eralen @magnificantmermaid @lovelydarkdaydream @illyrianprincess @youngdreamer3214

#yandere #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #steve rogers #captain america #mcu fanfiction

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christinebloodwrittings · 4 months

Text

Kitten pt2

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Panther Reader Summary: Loki left for a while, leaving his little kitten hurt and sad. Warnings: Abandonment issues, angst, injuries, poorly explained touch deprived issues (Which I have but don't know how to put it into words)

Loki Taglist: @lokisprettygirl22 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @high-functioning-lokipath @thereadinggeek @el-zef @beakami @lokiprompts @ilovefanfictions @eleniblue @novena-proxy @lulubelle814 @beakami @lokiprompts @laurenandloki @tjellisworld

Days in the Avenger's tower went swiftly for a while. Your training though was getting tough, especially with the Captain himself drawing the punches. But what really got your body to the point of exhaustion, was the fact that Loki was gone.

Only for a while, he said, but it had been three weeks since he said that and with a small kiss on the hand he went through the portal, along with Thor, who - not helping your anxiety - gave you a sorrowful look before disappearing.

That was the main reason for the harsh training.

Without the god-like help, the team felt a little vulnerable. No one would dare admit it because they still hold a bit of pride, but you just felt it in the air.

Without Loki around, you felt as if there was something off, your routine included him in almost all your activities, like meals, movies, walks, cuddles, even missions. Watching him leave like that, was as if he stole the air around you, as if your skin lacked warmth again.

"He'll be back sweetie" Natasha caught you staring at the burn mark the portal left, "Am I that obvious?" your voice trembled a little, "Your eyes are like those of a kitten that lost its way home" tears streamed down your eyes, as she said the nickname he gave you, his voice started to ring inside your head, remembering all the times he laughed with you, and lulled you softly while petting your head.

After that, you were summoned to a mission of rescue. The plan was simple, you were going to be the distraction, luring the guards away so Natasha and Steve could enter the bunker and rescue the scientist that were abducted by Hydra.

But nothing's ever that simple, isn't it?

The snow made it a bit hard to anchor yourself to the ground in order to doge the bullets, so eventually, more than one just hit non-essential points in your feline body. What you certainly weren't expecting, was a pack of wolves emerging from hidden cages in the snow, those that at the sound of a whistle threw themselves at you.

Everything was just whines of pain, claws and teeth making sharp noises, and blood staining the snow, until everything just stopped moving. Barely, you moved away from the furry corpses, "Y/n, you did amazing" Steve cooed as soon as he saw you limping your way to the inside of the jet, collapsing at his feet, "Stark, have Jarvis call a vet, Y/n's in bad shape" even Natasha began to panic, she hit the floor with her knees when she saw the blood dripping down your body.

"Hang on, you will get through this, remember, he will be back, he expects you there, you can't leave just now" Steve handed her a thick cloth to make pressure with, as she tried to keep you awake, but your breathing was slow and quiet, your body was just too heavy to move.

An aroma of humidity and steel flooded your senses, the hard, rocky ground rubbed against your wounds caused by the injections, chains, and surgical cuts that impeded your movements. Back in prison, the small cubicle where they did experiments on you since you were little.

You could never look like a normal panther at that age, it was more like a pile of skin patched together with fur from different species and dried blood. Claws in no way feline were violently imposed on your hands and feet, there were many forced transformations until your body adopted the modifications, creating the perfect hybrid disguised as a normal animal.

You woke up with panic, still transformed, though it was a small version of the panther the vet patched up. The bedsheets were silky and perfumed with a variety of herbs and perfumes, Loki’s bed. Have you ever heard a cat sob? That’s the sound Loki heard as soon as he made his way inside his room, his eyes landing on the small animal, covered in bloody bandages, “Y/n?” your ears perked up, slowly turning your head to see him, he saw your big eyes with tears falling down, your tiny paws making grabby movements.

Loki dropped the heavy bag he carried and prompted himself towards you, cupping your tiny body in his hands, “Stark called Thor, somehow, saying you were hurt and you didn’t woke up” his words were messy and shaky, just like his hands. “My Kitten, my dearest, I don’t mind this shape of yours, but I would love to tend to your wounds and hug you” he heard you sniff and meow in pain, “I see, I’ll wait then, until you’re ready” he then changed into comfy clothes, summoned a book, placed himself in bed, and gently accommodated you on his chest.

His heart swirled as he watched you curl into a little fur ball on his neck, even more when he heard the faint sound or a purr.

Eventually, after Loki fell asleep, your tiny body moved away from him and returned to its human shape, though ears were still those of a cat. Loki was quick to feel the weight shift in his bed, so he conjured your meds and a glass of water for later.

The sight of your body tied a knot deep in his stomach, bloodied bandages, visible stitches of your arm and torso, legs all bruised up. He couldn’t handle the fact that you were hurt wile he was away, he felt like he failed you.

“Loki?” he turned his head to you, first sight was your teary eyes, “My darling, I want to hug you so much, but I’m afraid I might hurt you” you shook your head and opened your arms to him, which was the cutest thing ever in his head. He pulled you closer, setting one arm under your head, and the other carefully placed along your back, using his magic to soothe your muscular pain due to the transformation.

“You left” was all you could say. It was difficult to articulate nothing more with the whirlwind of things you wanted to tell him. With how much you needed to hug him, to never let you go. You wanted to beg him to never go out again, tell him about your years locked in that cell, how anxiety and abandonment had eaten your nights away.

However, the pain of his departure, and without addressing any word, more than a simple "I will come back soon" prevented you from saying more.

"I’m terribly sorry, my kitten" he didn't say it in his usual voice, he emanated a strange feeling of longing and sadness. "I had to take care of a matter in Asgard, I visited my mother after that, I swear time slipped away and out of my mind, I came back as soon as Thor told me about your state, I didn't even think twice and jumped into the Bifrost" his hand caressed your cheek, taking a few tears with each soft stroke.

“I thought – “ you started, looking down, “That I wouldn’t come back to you?” he finished your sentence, like he was reading your mind, “My sweetest, most beautiful girl, I’ll always come back home to you” the moment he called you his home your pain faded away, air became light and breathable again, like your lungs weren’t rubbing against your bones anymore.

“I missed you so much” his smile grew so wide, he thought he might cry as well, but barely holding in his excitement he made his shirt and jacket fade away, “I’ve noticed, you have a certain adoration to physical touch, it was the way you lean into my hands and my neck, both always bare. Is it a sensory thing? I wondered, but then I looked into your files, all the pain you had to endure, I thought to myself, Woah, she must really like to let me touch her at all, but then I noticed how sad you are when you are not hugged for a while, and how dim you are to ask if it’s okay for you to hug me” he looked into your eyes, kissed your forehead and continued.

“So I thought we could cuddle skin to skin like this, so you can be as amorous as you always are, but in a better way? I don’t know, my mother advised me that this may make you less anxious” he spoke softly, never looking away from your eyes.

The fact that Loki was aware of your emotional dependence on touch, your past, your anxiety, and that he spoke to his mother looking for some way to help you, was about any experience in life. Loki was not like the other men, he worried, watched your habits and difficulties from day to day.

"I don’t deserve you" you drowned in your own abyss for a second, "It is the other way around, dear, it is I who does not deserve your heart" he removed his arm from your hip, just to take your hand and kiss your knuckles, "But I will work to deserve it, and be the man to accompany you for the rest of your life”

“You already are, I have to gather a million pieces of myself in order to be able to love you, the way you deserve” you took his face in your hands, making soft lines on his cheeks with your thumbs, “It’s a good thing I love puzzles, almost, but not as much as I love you” both laughter and kissing sounds echoed in the room, then you lowered your head to his chest, feeling the little soft hairs, his warm skin, and stayed there listening to his heart as his hands caressed you head.

“I missed you Kitten”.

“I love you Loki”.

#loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x female reader #loki of asgard #loki #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader fluff #hobie brown smut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader

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familyvideostevie · 2 years

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𝕟𝕠 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘: 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣

a farmer's market steve harrington x reader au

part 1 [7.2k] | part 2 [8.3k] | part 3 [13.3k] | part 4 [4.7k] | au masterlist

Every day you wake up and wonder if today is the day you'll cry. It hurts to look at the blank walls of your bedroom and the small pile of things on your dresser you were going to put up: the drive-in ticket, a polaroid Jonathan took of you at the New-Bee's stall, a candle label from your first batch. Does it even matter now?

But the tears don't come. So you decide to push on the bruise in your chest, the ache that has returned full force but worse. It's in the shape of Steve.

You think about the first time you saw him, how you wanted him to touch you so badly even though he made you so mad. You think about him in the rainstorm, wet and willing to help you, you think about him under you at the drive-in, hands eager and rough. You think about him on top of you in his bed, gentle and tender as he panted your name.

And you've ruined it all. You've ruined whatever was between you, that glowing, beautiful thing, and you've hurt him in the process. Which is the thing you can't forgive yourself for.

You're eating breakfast in the farmhouse kitchen the morning of the first November market. Bob knows you're not coming -- you told him you weren't feeling great and he totally understands. You've worked hard the last few months and he knows it. He also knows that something is wrong, that Halloween changed something. That the phone call with Steve was about much more than just you getting home safely.

"Hey, kiddo," he says, packing his lunch before he leaves for the market. "Have you thought about what you want to do after the last market next week?" It's hard to believe that there really is only one more week in the season. The leaves are almost all gone and you can smell winter in the air.

You swirl your spoon in your oatmeal and don't look at him. "I'm not sure yet," you sigh. A call home last week hadn't helped, though it did convince you that the last thing you want is to move back in with your parents. "Mom says it's up to me."

"Well," he says, dragging out the word. "You're welcome to stay here and keep working on the farm. We've got lots of things to make for the holidays. Or you can get a job in town!" You don't realize that you never thought Bob would want you to stay until the words leave his mouth. But how silly of you to think that he'd be anything but kind to you, even if you're not contributing to his business. "Point is," he continues, "you can stay here as long as you want."

For a long second your heart considers it. Staying in Hawkins, making it your home. Regardless of your current circumstances.

Which you need to figure out. Regardless of how you feel and how Steve feels, you owe him an apology at the very least.

But you're not feeling very brave yet, so you call Sara's Farm while the market is going on, hoping no one will be there and you can just leave a message.

The dial tone only rings once before a sweet voice answers. "Sara's Farm, this is Jane, how can I help you?"

"Hi, El," you say. She gasps your name in delight, then says it once more in a tone you like much less. Did Steve tell anyone what you did? That you left him?

"Why aren't you at the market?" she asks. "Are you okay?" Her automatic concern washes away your own.

"Don't worry about me," you say.

"I do! Steve said you got sick on Halloween and had to go home. Are you still sick?" She doesn't totally believe you, you can tell. A lump rises in your throat. He's kept your business between you both. It makes your heart do something funny in your chest.

"I feel better," you lie. "Can you tell Steve that I called? That I want to talk to him?"

El pauses before she answers. "Do you think you're gonna figure it out? Whatever happened?" Smart girl, you think.

"I hope so," you tell her. She says your name again, this time sounding like a scold.

"Good, because you both are much more fun when you're happy together." That, more than anything in the last few days makes tears prick in your eyes.

And maybe that's why you burst into tears when someone knocks on the farmhouse door and you see that it's Robin. You can barely speak when she spills into the kitchen, cheeks rosy despite her hat, gloves, and at least four layers.

"So you are alive!" she says, and then realizes you're basically sobbing. "Oh, god. Wait, let me just --" She toes off her shoes and drops her gloves and outermost jacket on the ground before she opens her arms. "Okay. Do you want a hug?" You step into her embrace before she's finished asking. Her hands rub up and down your back in a slightly awkward way that's all Robin.

"Sorry," you hiccup. "This is embarrassing. I don't know why I'm crying." That much is true. There are so many things you're feeling that you don't know which ones you're upset about at this moment.

"I'm not good with crying girls," she says as you both sway side to side in your hug. "Crying anyone, really. I just never know what to say! But I do know that you have nothing to be sorry about. You can cry all you want. It's great for your skin! Well, I don't actually know that but Nancy told me once. And, well, you know Nancy. If she says it it's probably true, right?" You huff, throat thick but eyes starting to dry. You wiggle out of her arms and turn to wipe your face.

"Do you want something to drink?" you ask her. "How was the market?" Ever adaptable to a change of subject, Robin sits at the kitchen table as you fill a glass of water without waiting for her answer.

"It was...boring without you," she says slowly. "Strange, too. Bob told people you didn't feel great so I thought I'd come check on you."

You hum and sniff a little. You must look like a wreck from crying. "I, uh..." You can't look at her.

"I know something happened." She sighs. "Steve didn't tell me what but I figure you guys had a fight or something? And look, he's my best friend but you're both my friends and I don't want to get in the middle of it but I do care that you're both miserable."

You turn around and she's looking at you with such kindness, such warmth, that you have to swallow another round of tears. "We didn't fight," you tell her. "The opposite, really. But I messed it up and hurt him because I'm scared."

"Kinda looks like you hurt yourself, too," she says, not unkindly. "Is it something...you want to fix?"

"I don't know if I can." You scrub at your swollen eyes with cold hands. "But even if he can't forgive me I need to explain myself and apologize. And then..." you trail off.

"And then?" she asks. "I know you have a lot going on so I wasn't going to ask but there's only one market left and...do you know if you're gonna stay here? In Hawkins?"

You don't answer right away and Robin squirms in her seat but lets to think about it. Because a not small part of you wants to tell her that yes, you'll stay. You want to. You love it here. But things are a mess right now and it doesn't feel fair to make the choice before you've talked to Steve.

"I don't know," you finally say. 'I don't know how staying would work. It might be better just to leave. Easier." The words taste wrong in your mouth but you can't take them back.

Robin's chair scrapes on the hardwood as she gets up and walks around the table to stand in front of you. "One thing at a time, then, right? And you'll tell me when you decide?" You grab her hand.

"Of course, I will. I just have to talk to Steve first."

___

It takes you three days to work up the courage to call Sara's again. Hopper picks up.

"Sara's," he says gruffly.

"Uh, hi, it's --" He sighs before you can finish your sentence.

"Harrington!" he yells, though it's muffled as if he covered the receiver with his hand. Your stomach flips. "What do you mean who is it? Who else calls around here looking for you?" You can't hear Steve, and then Hopper's back on the line.

"I don't think I want to know why he won't talk to you," he says. This time, your stomach feels like a lead weight.

"That's fine," you rush out. "Can you give him a message for me? Uh, Hopper, sir?"

"Jesus Christ," he says. "I guess I don't have a choice. He looks like a kicked puppy."

"Tell him to meet me at the lake tonight, if he can? Where we had the bonfire? 8 pm?" You try to keep the pleading out of your voice but you must fail because Hopper's next words are almost kind.

"Sure, kid. I'll tell him." The phone clicks and you hear the dial tone.

You don't really expect him to show up. It's freezing, cold enough that you're sitting in the cab of the truck with the heat on while you wait in the dark. The remains of your bonfire from weeks ago sit in the fire pit, the ash and charred logs illuminated by your headlights. Why did you think this was a good idea? Steve has no reason to hear you out. He has every right to never speak you to again, no matter how awful that would be.

But then you hear it -- the rumble of a truck, headlights bright on the shore next to yours. Before the lights in the cab go out you can see Steve take a deep breath. He opens the door and walks quickly through the cold, his breath puffing in front of him, to your passenger door. You have to force yourself to keep your own inhales even at the sight of him. Your entire body feels like it's aching as he climbs in next to you. He feels miles away.

"Hey," he says. He clears his throat and doesn't look at you for longer than a quick glance up and down. "Are you okay? You weren't at the market on Saturday."

"I'm fine," you say, the lie now familiar in your mouth. "Are you okay?" You don't know what possesses you to ask. He looks fine, if a little cold. Same warm eyes, if a bit wary, messy hair pushed into his hat haphazardly. He looks pretty as always.

"Honestly?" You nod, though he's not looking at you. "Not really."

"Steve--" you start, but he interrupts you.

"I wasn't going to come," he says, then shakes his head. "No, sorry, that's not true. I've been jumping every time the phone rings for almost a week, hoping it's you. But I can't bring myself to answer it. I've been desperate to see you again but I also can't look at you because it makes me sad."

"Sad?" you whisper.

"Because I don't understand what happened. And I want to fix it, but I also want to be mad at you. And I can't figure out how to do either."

He doesn't say anything else and you take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Steve," you say. You've said the words out loud to yourself hundreds of times by now and they taste funny in your mouth. Like missed opportunity. Like your own mistakes.

"Can I ask why?" he says, finally turning to look at you head-on. "Why you left?"

"I--yeah. Yeah, of course. I want to explain myself. I owe you that." How do you do this without telling him you love him? Without sounding like you're trying to manipulate him into forgiving you? Because that's the last thing you want to do. "I hope I don't need to tell you that it's nothing you did," you say. "It's all me. And I know that sounds like it's not you, it's me but that's the truth. It's me. I-- I freaked out. I freaked out because you have changed my entire life, Steve. You've turned it upside down and made me love a place I didn't feel right in at first and you-- you are good and kind and everything wonderful about this town." You've kept your eyes on your hands clenched tight in your lap but you look up at him then. His gaze is steady, brows furrowed. "And I...god, Steve. I don't want this to sound like I'm guilting you or anything because it's only been a few months but that night I realized that I'm falling in love with you and it's scaring the shit out of me."

You're looking at him as you say it, so you see that he doesn't react even a little bit. It makes your chest tighten, but you push that down. It's not about if he loves you or not. It's about apologizing.

"I understand how that's scary," he says carefully. His own hands are shoved in his pockets. You wonder if he's clenched them into fists. "I just don't know why you'd leave instead of telling me how you were feeling."

"I wish I could take that back."

He looks away again. "Do you regret everything else, too? Having sex? Everything before?"

"God, no," you breathe out. "No, Steve. I don't regret any of that." You want to touch him but you know you shouldn't. It wouldn't help anything.

"Do you get why you leaving like that hurt?" he asks. "Why the last thing I expected to come back to was an empty bed?" You chew on your lip as he keeps talking. "Because I thought we had figured that out. The whole...not talking to each other bullshit. Dealing with our emotions unfairly, being too hasty and hurtful. You helped me learn how to do that and I tried for you."

There's nothing to say. Other than the truth. "I know, and I'm sorry," you tell him. "I freaked out and I hurt you and that was the last thing I wanted to do. And I understand if you can't forgive me--"

"I didn't say that," he interrupts, tone a hair from desperate. The first real emotion you've heard from him other than frustration. "I just need some space, I think. Okay?" He lifts his hand in the air and it seems to hover in the space between you before he brushes his knuckles against your cheek. You inhale raggedly.

"Okay," you say. He smiles but it's sad and climbs out of your truck and back into his, driving into the night with a little wave.

You sit in silence for a few seconds before hot tears trickle down your cheeks. But this time, they're of relief. Because he doesn't hate you. Because he might forgive you, someday. Your chest aches but just for a moment, you let yourself feel all of it: the overwhelming sensation of being in love with Steve. It washes over you and all you want is for him to be happy.

Maybe when you tell him you're going to stay in Hawkins he'll even be glad about it. He cares about you, no one can deny that. And maybe, maybe he can love you.

___

After you talk with Steve you allow yourself to lean into preparing for the last market. You barely leave the farm because you make as many candles and soaps as you can. You wander into the farmhouse after finishing your latest batch of candles -- Steve's candles, as you call them in your head -- to find a fairly large size wicker basket on the counter.

"What's this?" you ask Bob. He's tying string onto honey jars.

"I was hoping you could tell me," he smiles. The basket contains an odd collection of stuff, all from local businesses. A small bouquet from Byers Flowers, a bag of mushrooms from Rick's, some jam from Sara's. A tiny pumpkin with a face drawn on it and even one of your own candles.

"Lucas Sinclair and Will Byers biked that over and dropped it off. Said it was for you." He points to the card you'd missed before that's nestled behind. the flowers.

We hope this humble offering helps convince you to stay in Hawkins!

It's written in a steady hand you know to be Will's and signed by every kid individually: Will, Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and El.

"Wow," you whisper. "I guess the rumor mill has started."

"I've heard that you might be leaving," Bob says. "Not sure where that came from." Robin, you think. Your darling friend might have gotten ahead of herself. "We don't have to talk about it, but have you thought any more about what you want to do?"

You don't hesitate, eyes on the card in your hand. "I want to stay."

The final market is the busiest Saturday you've seen, even though it's practically freezing. The November chill worms its way under your three layers, hat, and gloves. You should have worn two pairs of pants. There is laughter and your candles fly off the stand. There's a stand of hot cider somewhere that smells delightful.

And the weirdest thing keeps happening. People keep stopping you to say that they don't want you to leave town, and then when you tell them you aren't going to, they're so relieved. You've had the same conversation with so many customers that you've lost count. It really is a small town, you think. Your small town.

"Hey!" Eddie bounds over to your stall as the market is about to end, curls shoved into a black beanie with a pom-pom on top. He looks to be wearing at least three flannels under his leather jacket. "I heard you're leaving?" He looks pretty down about it, too. "I'd have brought you some mushrooms but I know you don't like them."

"Where did everyone get this idea that I'm leaving?" you huff. "I only told Robin that was still trying to decide--" Eddie scrunches up his nose and grimaces. "Did she tell you I was leaving?"

"Welllll..." he drags out. "She might have hinted that she thought you were going to and I think the story got out somehow." Then he brightens. "So you're not leaving?"

You smile, allowing the happiness of your choice to fill you for just a second. "I'm sticking around," you tell him. He whoops far too loudly.

"Thank Christ," he says. "Otherwise we'd have to deal with a sad Harrington forever." You look at your feet. "Oh, come on," he says. "You haven't made up yet?"

"How do you know about that?" you mumble, eyes still on the ground.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says. "Anyone can tell just by looking at Steve that he's down as hell. And he won't tell anyone why."

"I--" You want to ask him more, ask him what he's talked to Steve about, ask him if he's seen Steve today since you haven't, but before you can Robin runs over.

"You're staying?" she pants. "I heard it from Vickie who heard it from Brenda who heard it from her mom who heard it from you. I thought you were going! I told people you were going!" The memory of you crying in her arms flashes in your mind. Maybe it's not so outrageous that she got the impression you wanted to leave Hawkins.

"Well, here I am," you say. "If you'll have me."

"Fuck yeah we'll have you," Robin cries, grabbing your hands over the stall counter. A few people shoot her dirty looks for her language but she doesn't notice. "Oh my god, we're going to have so much fun. You have to come visit me at school, and we'll do Friendsgiving, and New Year's Eve, and --"

She prattles on about all the things you're going to do, and you can't fight your smile. But there's a lingering barb in your chest because you still have to tell Steve. Have to see if he's forgiven you if he ever will. If he's okay with you sticking around, regardless.

You want to ask Robin about him but you don't. He'll come to you if he wants to since he's the one who wants space and you want to respect that. But it would be nice to see him here, at the place where you met. The place where it all started.

So after your friends wander away with a bounce in their steps, you soak in the last moments of your last market for this year. Vendors wave at you on their way out and you pack up as slowly as you can, stretching out the task as long as possible. And to see if Steve will come say hi after all. He must have hid in the Sara's tent all morning.

You're careful with the candles, eyes on the fading line on your palm. The giddiness of that day in the rain with Steve is a fond memory, even if it makes the ache more profound. His smile, his laugh, his gentle hands. Hands you hope to hold again. The crates are all done and you take a deep breath and tell yourself you have to bring them to the truck when you feel a prickle on the back of your neck. You look up and --

There he is. He looks frazzled, no hat or gloves despite the cold, cheeks and nose pink, and hair a riot. He walks towards you with determined steps, stopping a few feet away.

"Hi," you breathe. "Hey, Steve," you say again, louder. It's like you willed him to come over here.

"Uh, hi," he says, dragging one hand through his hair and shoving the other into the pocket of his jacket. "Sorry I didn't come over earlier. It's been really busy today and -- well." He sucks on his teeth and looks at the sky. "Listen, I heard some stuff today and I don't know what's true and I know I asked for space but I had to come ask you because --" He takes a breath. It's unlike him to ramble like this, you think. It's endearing. "Are you staying in Hawkins or are you leaving?" he asks.

You blink. "Oh," you say. The rumors must have gotten to him and Robin hasn't set him right yet. "Yeah, that. Uh, well, first I just want to say I'm sorry again and I hope that the space is good for you." You clear your throat, swallowing the lump. "I want to fix things between us, whatever that looks like, but only if you want to. And I don't want to rush you, but --"

Steve takes a step towards you and your voice stops working for a second, long enough for him to start talking again. "Sorry, but before you go on and tell me you're leaving I just...please don't let it be because of me." He takes a hand from his pocket like he wants to reach for you but balls it into a fist instead. "If you want to leave I don't want to stop you because you have to do what's right for you and I know I asked for space but I don't think I want that and I should have just told you before." He takes a deep breath.

"Told me what, Steve?" you ask so softly you don't know if he hears you. He runs his hands through his hair again. He takes another step forward, so close that the tips of your shoes almost touch. His eyes are warm and bright when they meet yours.

"I'm in love with you. I love you. I don't know if you meant it by the lake and that's okay but I mean it now. It's soon and it's scary and I don't know what to do about it or where it'll take us but I just have to tell you so you know because...you can't leave without at least knowing that I do. You can't leave thinking I won't forgive you." He laughs a little to himself and takes half a step back. "And we need to work on our communication, especially if you leave, but I just want you whatever way I can have you--"

"Steve," you croak. It feels like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. He loves you.

He blinks a few times, shoving his hands back into his pockets. "Oh, sorry," he says. "Keep going with what you were saying."

Your thoughts are gibberish inside your head. All you can think is how badly you want to hold this boy in front of you. "Steve," you say again. He looks more worried this time, but before he can say anything you throw yourself at him, arms around his neck and chin hooked over his shoulder. He's quick to pull his hands out of his coat to wrap his arms around you and you feel his cold nose on the skin of your neck.

"I'm staying," you say into his shoulder. "I'm not leaving."

He pulls away just enough to see you, noses almost touching. "Did I hear that right? You're staying?"

"Yeah," you nod. "I want to stay. I love this town and the people in it and it's home now. And I, uh, want to figure us out. If you want to." You are embarrassed to feel your lashes grow wet. Steve brings his hands between you and blows on them before he gently frames your face.

"Did you think I'd not want to?" His thumbs stroke your cheeks. "I can say that whole speech again."

"No," you say, leaning into his palms. "I did think maybe you'd tell me not to stay. When we were at the lake. So I didn't bring it up." His face does something funny before he touches his forehead to yours.

"I will never tell you to go because I want you here, wherever here is. I just want you with me." You want to pull him into your chest, to show him how your heart has his name on it.

"I still don't know what I want, Steve," you whisper. "I want to stay here but I don't know how long that'll last. I'm not sure of anything but I'm sure about you. I'm sure that I love you."

"We can figure it out," he says, mouth curling into a smile. His eyes shine bright at your words. You both know that you have a lot of work to do -- learning how to communicate better, how to love each other right, how to deal with your own wounds and insecurities and feelings. There is growing to do. But you can do it together.

"Okay," you nod. Your noses brush. Maybe it is that easy. Just deciding what you want and seeing it in front of you and taking it. Calling it yours, holding it close. All of the hard stuff has led to this and maybe it was all worth it to get to this point -- the fighting and the misunderstandings and all of the kisses and the ache in your chest that you now know is just love. It's love with all its aches and pains and it's worth it.

"Can we kiss now, please?" he asks you. His breath is hot on your skin, visible in the space between you.

"Yes, please."

The press of his lips to yours is delicate, soft. It's loving. His thumbs stroke your face lazily and you grab his forearms gently, feeling the strength and the warmth of him through his layers. All Steve, you think. All yours. It's like he's thinking the same thing because his mouth curls into a smile against yours and you're not so much kissing as grinning against each other but it's exactly what you want. It's Steve. It's home.

THE END.

tags: @cheerupbarry @srrybutno @97soroka @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee @sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @actual-mom-steve-harrington @steveharringtonscarkeys @pennyllanne @ducky-is-dead-inside @ih3artcry1ng @escape-in-time-x @sea040561 @manyfandomsfanvergent @blandyton @liberhoe @annaisweird @mrs-dr-reid @toomanyacorns @darlingoctober @selfdeprecatingnerd @dullsocietyy @keep-drivng @shireentapestry @mintfrostflower @freezaz123 @dahliamae @localbnbg @palmtreesx3 @eddiethesexy

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#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #no good at waiting

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