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besanii · 4 years

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12 for shattered mirrors? :)

12. a hoarse whisper “kiss me”

Shattered Mirrors 59

[directly follows #19]

Their presence at the festival inevitably turns heads.

It is unsurprising, given Wei Wuxian’s famously reclusive nature and the astronomical price tag attached to his company, not to mention the abundance of rumours surrounding him since his arrival in Gusu over a year ago. To see him accompanying their very own Lan Wangji, Gusu’s most eligible, most powerful and wealthiest bachelor, who has never demonstrated any prior interest in romance or marriage, is reason enough to set tongues wagging.

They walk side-by-side along the river, the lantern swaying from its handle in Wei Wuxian’s hands emitting a soft orange glow in the darkening night. The streets are growing busier as the night sets in, the fading sunlight replaced with candles and lanterns like fireflies rising from the water’s edge. There is music in the distance where local troupes have erected makeshift stages for the night’s festivities, and many delicious aromas fill the air the further along the path they walk.

Two laughing children run past on their way to a stall selling lanterns, brushing against Wei Wuxian on their way. He stumbles sideways with a small gasp, and a hand is there at his elbow and on his shoulder to steady him. The children continue on their way without realising.

“Are you alright?” Lan Wangji asks gently, brow furrowed with concern. “They did not hurt you?”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head with a smile.

“I’m fine, Wangye, no need to worry,” he assures him. “Children are boisterous by nature. It’s to be expected.”

He goes to step out of the protective circle of Lan Wangji’s arms, but the hand at his elbow tightens imperceptibly, just enough to still his retreat. When he looks up, Lan Wangji is regarding him with a soft, open expression, his lips slightly parted as his eyes check him over for injuries. Heat rises along the back of his neck under the scrutiny, keenly aware of the curious looks they are receiving from passersby.

“Wangye,” he murmurs. “We are in public.”

His reminder is thankfully heeded and Lan Wangji lowers his hands back to his sides, the tips of his ears pink. Wei Wuxian inclines his head and steps back to put a more respectable distance between them, his fingers fiddling restlessly with the handle of the lantern.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji starts, then falters, uncertain. At a quirk of Wei Wuxian’s eyebrow, he clears his throat. ”Thank you for accompanying me tonight.”

Wei Wuxian laughs softly, teasingly.

“It is an honour to be in Wangye’s company,” he says. “Xian-er should be the one to thank Wangye for allowing me to accompany you.”

Lan Wangji exhales heavily through his nose, pained.

“You know that is not what I meant,” he says. “And dispense with the formalities. There is no need for any of that between us. Not anymore.”

“On the contrary, Wangye,” Wei Wuxian says, turning away to look down at the length of the street they had yet to walk, “the differences between us are still very much akin to Heaven and Earth. I would not dare to presume familiarity with Wangye, especially not in public, where our every action is scrutinised.”

He knows Lan Wangji can see the sense of his words when he sighs—a tiny, displeased little sound that would be almost petulant on anyone else—and turns in the direction Wei Wuxian is facing. The sun is almost completely set now and the festival in full swing; the street before them is crowded with revellers, mingling in front of stalls, leaning over the water’s edge to talk to vendors along the river, running and bumping into each other on their way. There is scarcely any room to move without being swept up in the throng.

A younger Wei Wuxian would not have hesitated to jump right into the thick of things, darting from stall to stall, trying every dish from every vendor, laughing and shouting and celebrating to his heart’s content. Now he stands quietly at Lan Wangji’s side, a wistful smile playing on his lips, and makes no move to go.

“It’s gotten quite busy,” he comments, voice light. Lan Wangji hums in assent.

“Perhaps you would like to go somewhere quieter?” he suggests. “I hear the new braised lamb at Fan Tower is excellent fare on a cold night.”

The suggestion is met with a surprised laugh.

“Wangye would eat the braised lamb at Fan Tower?” Wei Wuxian asks. “I thought Wangye usually ate vegetarian.”

Lan Wangji glances at him out of the corner of his eye, lips twitching upward.

“Usually,” he concedes with a slight inclination of his head. “But I have been known to partake in meat on occasion.” He gestures to his right with one arm. “Shall we?”

Wei Wuxian laughs and dips his knee. “Please, lead on Wangye.”

Fan Tower is one of the busiest and most renowned restaurants in all of Caiyi where common folk would usually be hard-pressed to find a table without booking months in advanced. In his youth, Wei Wuxian had liked to come here for their wine—the highest quality Emperor’s Smile in all of Gusu—and had made friends with the owners of the establishment so as to never have to worry about finding a table. Since his return, however, he had not been back.

The appearance of Lan Wangji at the entrance sends management into a frenzy of greetings and preparations, and they are ushered into a private room upstairs within minutes. They greet Wei Wuxian politely, but the hospitality holds none of the exuberance that it had for Lan Wangji. Not that Wei Wuxian had expected any less, but the difference does not sit well with his companion.

“It really isn’t anything to worry about, Wangye,” Wei Wuxian assures him. “I am a stranger, after all, and one with a reputation. Wangye, on the other hand, is the esteemed Hanguang-wang, the younger brother to the Emperor, our stations in life are vastly different—they are only responding as is proper.”

As the waiter leaves, he pours them both a cup of tea. It is the finest biluochun of the season, no doubt in recognition of Lan Wangji’s preference for green teas, and he takes a deep breath to savour the fruity, floral aroma with a smile. He catches Lan Wangji watching him as he does, and raises one eyebrow in question. Lan Wangji shakes his head minutely, embarrassed.

“I did not mean to stare,” he says. “But I noticed that you no longer drink wine, even though it is in abundance.”

Ah. Wei Wuxian sets the cup back on the table, his smile slipping.

“I’m afraid my body no longer tolerates alcohol the way it used to in my youth,” he says with a weak chuckle. “I get the most dreadful headaches when I do indulge myself in it, it really isn’t fair.”

But his attempt to lighten the mood only serves to deepen Lan Wangji’s frown, so he changes the topic instead. He reaches for the lantern that has been set on the table beside him, running his fingers over the two rabbits.

“The style looks familiar,” he says. “Did you paint this yourself, Wangye?”

Lan Wangji doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to—the glow of his ears gives the answer away. A warm tenderness unfurls deep within his chest at the thought of Lan Wangji bent over his desk, painting these rabbits and assembling the lantern piece by piece, as they had once done many years ago. So consumed by his own reminiscing, he starts when a large, warm hand wraps around his on the table, drawing his attention back to Lan Wangji beside him.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji’s eyes, usually the colour of rich honey, turns molten gold in the candlelight, sending shivers down Wei Wuxian’s spine. “About my offer, the other day—”

For a moment, Wei Wuxian is half-afraid Lan Wangji will say he has changed his mind, that his offer of protection, of freedom, of home has been rescinded. He would not blame him if he did; after all, he had been most cruel in his initial rejection, had pushed him away over and over again despite his earnestness and sincerity. The memory of his actions, his words, has shame welling up in the back of his throat, thick and choking, and he has to turn away in order to breathe. He does not deserve forgiveness, even if Lan Wangji is willing to give it, does not deserve his kindness, nor his pity—

He starts to withdraw his hand, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he does, but Lan Wangji holds him fast.

“Wei Ying—”

“Wangye,” he says, struggling feebly against his grip. “You have been nothing but kind, generous and good, and Xian-er is most grateful for your patronage. You have no obligation to—”

“No. Wei Ying, listen to me.” Lan Wangji pulls him close, the hand not holding onto his coming up to rest, trembling, on the side of his face. “I have no intention of taking back what I said. The offer stands, will stand for as long as it takes for you to accept.”

“Lan Zhan…” the name falls from his lips on a shuddering breath. “I will bring you nothing but shame and ridicule—associating with me is a stain upon your honour—I don’t want to drag you down—”

A thumb slides across his jaw to press against his lips, silencing him.

“You will bring me nothing but joy and love,” Lan Wangji tells him, eyes bright with unshed tears. The sight of them sends tremors through Wei Wuxian’s skin and heat prickling int he corners of his eyes. “And I want nothing more than to do the same for you. Anything you want, Wei Ying. Ask it of me, and I will give it to you.”

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and sags with relief, laughing under his breath at his own foolishness. How could he doubt Lan Wangji, when all he has ever been is steadfast and true despite Wei Wuxian’s repeated attempts to make him see otherwise? He turns his head to brush his lips against the palm of Lan Wangji’s hand, smiling as he feels the muscles twitch beneath his touch.

“Lan Zhan,” he murmurs, his heart full to bursting. He opens his eyes as Lan Wangji inhales sharply, meeting his eyes with a heated gaze of his own. “Kiss me.”

Lan Wangji does not need to be told twice, leaning forwards with a muted sound at the back of his throat—his lips tremble, breath stutters against his, damp and salty with tears. But as Wei Wuxian surrenders himself into Lan Wangji’s arms, he knows he would not have it any other way.

ko-fi link and master post on my sidebar :)

#la-belle-et-la-bete #asks #mdzs #wangxian #shattered mirrors au #shattered mirrors fic #wei wuxian #lan wangji #王爷机 X 花魁羡 #courtesan!wwx #prince!lwj #kiss prompt #my writing

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aroaceslytherin · 3 years

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In Too Deep

(Used song 'In Too Deep - Why Don't We' for inspiration)

Used to be scared of the ocean

'Cause I didn't know how to swim

I took one sip of your potion

Now I'm just divin' right in

For as long as Regulus could remember, he would have nightmares of the ocean swallowing him whole and dragging him down to the unknown depths many levels below the earth’s surface. His siblings taught themselves to swim in the lake in the forest near their manor.

Regulus never followed. He panicked just even setting foot on the land where the lake was. Ever since the first dream, he would drink water with a straw, he would never take a bath but rather clean himself with rags, water, and soap, he hated the rain, and washing the dishes or his hands made his heart pound.

When Regulus was eighteen, he signed himself up for a Suicide Mission besides the protests of his sisters and brother. He loved James, he loved his daughter, but he had to make his mother proud of him. So he took on the task of finding the locket for Tom Riddle even after Tom asked him many times ‘Are you sure?’.

“Why are you all protesting?” Regulus asked, sitting on the table in the meeting hall.

“You can’t swim.” Narcissa pleaded.

“Inferi will drag you down before you can even get to a cure for the water!” Bellatrix added on. “You are not strong enough, you have a fear of water, someone would have to go with you but it has never worked before.”

“I’ll take the risk.” Regulus whispered. “I love you.”

I heard your siren's call, it was beautiful I am drowning, God, please don't save me

Regulus took a deep breath in as he packed his bags. He was leaving Hogwarts tonight - he used to be excited to leave because it meant freedom. Now he dreaded it. He no longer wanted to leave because the chance for freedom was now shattered.

Was he ruining his future? Were his siblings right?

Regulus took the route down to the Gryffindor Common Room once more. Seeing the painting he used to run through with his brother and his idiot friends sent flutters through his body. An overwhelming sense of sadness he had never felt before filled his soul.

“Damn you, James.” He chuckled, making his way to the platform where the carriages were to take them to the train.

Regulus remembered the first time he saw James... Or at least noticed him. He was thirteen. James was sixteen. Sixteen and holding hands with a slightly annoyed Lily who was also holding hands with Remus... Who was holding hands with Sirius. Those four did everything together.

He felt it was wrong to fall for his best friend’s brother and someone his family would hate but something inside him also did not care. For once he did not care about something. James was beautiful. James was everything Barty was not.

But at the same time he was still drowning. He had been drowning since that day at the lake. His siblings had not noticed, but Cygnus tried to get him to swim. Regulus slipped and the only person who saved him was Bellatrix. She stayed with him on the bank until everyone was ready to head home. James had not known this.

Regulus had not told him because he knew this suicide mission was coming. James would have stopped him. James deserved something and someone better than him. Whether that was Lily or Remus and Sirius - it just was not him.

Regulus Black.

Baby Black.

Goodbye was coming.

Goodbye was all they were meant to be.

Forever was never for him.

Forever was for his brother.

Forever was for James and someone else.

His brother had everything he never had...

Happiness. An amazing boyfriend. Love. A chosen family. A colorful life. Bravery. Confidence.

FREEDOM

I’m in too deep

Can’t touch the bottom with my feet

Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living

I’m in too deep

Can’t touch the bottom with my feet

Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living

Bravery.

One thing Regulus Black never had.

Or so he thought.

He was brave enough to date James Potter. An “enemy”. He was brave enough to put himself on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Did he do it to get closer to James? Probably.

Did he do it to see his brother more? Definitely.

Regulus was brave. He just did not see it within himself. He saw broken pieces that couldn’t be mended. He saw flaws where others saw beauty. He was just as dark as Andromeda pretended she wasn’t. They were ‘Blacks’ , it is what they were.

Dark.

Powerful.

Malicious.

James told him at one point they were being brainwashed. It was after Regulus unknowingly shared stories of what Cygnus had done to his sisters. He quickly left the Gryffindor Common Room after that for fear of sharing any other family secrets.

Regulus was afraid of mirrors. He turned them around in his room which was dark with no colour, save for the dark forest green that had always been his favourite. He was supposedly supposed to be a Gryffindor. He couldn’t see himself in that house. He knew he would be a Slytherin through and through.

Like his family.

He was wrong.

He was a snake with a lion’s heart. He wondered if he would even be on this mission if he had taken the Hat’s suggestion. He wondered if he would still be with James.

Yet here he was. Standing at the entrance of Sirius’ bright room staring at the mess, the evidence that someone once lived there, unlike his own room, which felt cold and unlived. Empty and sad. Like a ghost passing through. Mourning a life of happiness.

Where Sirius had pictures of his friends scattering the walls adorned by Gryffindor banners and posters of girls to annoy his parents despite how gay he was or makeup strewn all over his vanity and floor...

Regulus had books. On his desk, on his bookshelf filled to the brim, on his nightstand, in his closet. It was the only colour he had. Everything had a home. He never misplaced or moved anything and he would be livid at anyone for a week if they moved something just an inch.

Now all that was left in his room was a cold presence.

Regulus ran to Sirius’ bed and buried himself in the mess of blankets. He missed his big brother’s hugs. He almost had forgotten what Sirius smelled like. He wanted his brother. His mother forbade them from seeing each other and he obeyed. He even declined when his Uncle Alphard tried getting them to meet up. It broke his heart but he didn’t want to be disowned like Pandora, Rosier, Andromeda, and Sirius. He didn’t want to be hung like Alastair. Narcissa escaped long ago.

It was just him.

Fighting alone.

Healing alone.

Crying alone.

Alone.

I’m in too deep

Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh

I’m in too deep

Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh

Alone is all he has known. He knew he and James were going to end. As soon as they met it was goodbye. As soon as they met he was still alone even if James had said many times he had been found. He was seen. He was heard. He was no longer alone.

Regulus could not believe it no matter how many times he told himself. Everyone had left him. James would do the same. Except now Regulus felt guilty because he was the one that made James leave. He had begged James to leave instead of accepting the older boys’ help.

He then realized he pushed everyone away. It was safer that way. They would not get hurt when he dies. They got hurt anyway. It made Regulus sick. He should have stayed away.

If not for the suicide mission, then at his own hands. If he could not have James or Sirius then he is better off dead. Since he cannot have love and he cannot have James without doubt, anger, and beatings - he will just die. He could not wait for his mother to pass even if that meant his only path to happiness. As long as she was alive, he was miserable.

Regulus was done fighting for love. His brother was strong enough to fight for his love, but that is all Regulus had known. He fought for his mother’s attention and love. He fought for his life. For his family. He fought to stay. Regulus would not give up like Sirius did.

Sirius left.

Regulus kept going.

He was burning his hands on a rope he was gripping too tight, slipping until his hands were bleeding raw.

It was time to let go.

Treasure chest full of your diamonds

I don’t mind staying down here

Thought by now I would be dyin’

But your love gives me all my air

It scared Regulus to love this much. He had four beautiful years with James. It was time for the memories to be locked up. It was time for everything to end.

I heard your siren’s call, it was beautiful

I am drowning, God, please don’t save me

Regulus needed to see James one last time. Regulus was empty as he climbed the stairs to the apartment where Remus, Sirius, Lily, and James were living. Marlene and Dorcas were two doors down. None of them had heard from Peter in two years.

Regulus knew what Peter was doing. He also knew his mother was behind it all. Which is why he had to leave. Which is why he stayed glued on the mat, hesitating to reach up and knock.

Regulus backed out at the last minute, turning to go back and make his way to his grave.

I’m in too deep

Can’t touch the bottom with my feet

Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living

I’m in too deep

Can’t touch the bottom with my feet

Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living

“Regie?”

“Go back, James.” Regulus replied, not bothering to look back as he descended the stairs.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Please.”

Regulus stopped on the step he was on. “James.” He sighed. He was exhausted. He was done. He was empty. There was nothing left. He didn’t know what to say when you were trying to break someone’s heart. He didn’t know what to do when you were leaving someone. He had never had to do that before. It was always the other person.

“I can’t.” Regulus shook his head, slowly taking another step down.

“Come home.”

“It never was.”

“It was and you know it.”

“Enough, James.” Regulus choked out. “I love you. It does not change the fact that I am still leaving. Nothing will.”

“Regie.”

“James. I-” He sighed, dropping his head.

“What?”

I’m in too deep

Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh

I’m in too deep

Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh

I’m in too deep

“What?” James pleaded, stepping one foot out the door.

“Goodbye. I love you.”

I heard your sirens call, it was beautiful

Goodbye.

That one word swam in his head as he pulled on the Gryffindor sweater and let his heavy body take him down to the edge of the lake inside the cave.

He was doing what he had to.

He would make it.

His mother would love him.

He never wanted to admit it...

But his mother hated him just as much as she hated Sirius. She was not fit to be a mother and Cygnus was never meant to be a father. Which is why she made the dumb mistake to take in his daughters and kept having kids. She should have been less selfish and given her daughters and Sirius a different life by giving them up instead of having him and Alastair. Regulus loved his own daughter. Which is why he gave her to James. To keep her safe with Cyprus.

It was too late.

Inferi were clawing at him already.

He went through with it.

I’m in too deep

Can’t touch the bottom with my feet

Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living

It was too late.

James knew this but he still grabbed his coat and fled. He knew where Regulus was going. He left a note for his family, grabbed a coat, and fled. He needed to save the insufferable git that could not see what was right in front of him.

James could not say goodbye.

He loved that bastard just as much as he loved his brother.

As much as Remus.

As much as Lily.

Maybe just a little bit more.

I’m in too deep

I never thought that you could be

A underwater symphony, I can’t breathe but I’m living

I’m in too deep

Can’t touch the bottom with my feet

Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living

Regulus looked up at the sound of echoed footsteps running toward him. He gripped the rocks harder, trying to pull himself free but he kept slipping. His hands were bruised and covered in blood but he kept trying. He would not let them take him. He had to save the locket.

“James! Leave!” He screamed.

“Not without you!” The older boy yelled back.

“I love you, now leave!”

“No! I won’t let you go!”

Regulus groaned.

James dove after Regulus, grabbing his wrists and pulling.

“If you go down, I will go down with you.” James said calmly. “I love you.” He whispered breathlessly as they went under.

Hands clawed at the both of them. James held tight to Regulus as the younger boy struggled. He went through every spell in his mind until he found one that his father had taught him. An old one not many would know anymore.

Regulus went limp in his grip as James repeated the words in his mind.

Further and further they went.

I’m in too deep

Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh

I’m in too deep

Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh

I’m in too deep

James soon found himself on his back in sand. He chuckled before pushing Regulus off him and getting on his hands and knees just before he ended up choking. As he coughed up water, Regulus moaned from next to him.

James side-eyed Regulus. He was bleeding through the Gryffindor sweater, his hair was a sopping, bleeding mess; the only thing that made James feel like he could keep going was the small, subtle indicators that the younger boy was still breathing.

James scrambled onto his feet as Regulus started coughing. He turned the smaller boy onto his side, getting him to expel some water from his body.

James then ripped the locket off Regulus' neck and hoisted his boyfriend onto his shoulders.

James apparated them to The Black Manor in Regulus’ room. He laid him down and put the locket in the Mahogany jewelry chest on the younger boys' bookshelf stuffed to the brim with books.

“I don’t wanna be here.” Regulus mumbled.

James kneeled next to him on the bed, caressing the youngest heir’s hair. “No one is here. As far as we know your parents are dead. While you were hiding out in that abandoned apartment complex, the dementors came searching for the locket because they thought you had it already.”

“Idiots.”

“I will be right back.”

Regulus laid there staring at the ceiling. It felt like a year had passed until James came back with a glass of water. He stuck a straw in it before handing the glass to Regulus.

“How do we destroy it?” James asked, looking at the box.

“We don’t.” Regulus answered as he sat up. James looked at him quizzically. “Lily’s pregnant, right?”

“Uh, yeah? Where are you-”

“Shh. You know I have visions.”

“You cannot possibly predict the future.”

“No, but I can say that yours and Lily’s kid will be the one to destroy it. We can try and destroy the others. Bellatrix and Tom should not have finished all of them or gotten too far.”

(As I was writing this - Listen To Your Heart; Roxette - started playing. Let me tell you I cried.)

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#jegulus #wolfstar #dorlene #narlily #marauders #marauders era #siriusxremusxjames #lucius x severus #lucius x narcissa #oc x canon #alternate universe #fanfic #jegulily

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fascination-street-writing · 4 years

Text

Stationary Traveler | Chapter I | Prosciutto x F!Reader

In which Prosciutto enlists the aid of a waitress to fulfill a hit placed on two former members of Passione.

Chapter Content Warnings: Smoking & Alcohol Consumption

“How long do I have?”

“One month.”

Prosciutto lifts the blazing cigarette to his lips and nods. Smoke fills the cavities of his lungs and pockets in his mouth. It permeates through the room. Flipping the filter in his grasp, he offers the cigarette to Risotto. Contemplation flashes across his red eyes, yet he does not take it. Prosciutto knows better than to press the matter.

Instead, Risotto thumbs through the dossier atop the desk. Reports and photographs adorn the pages, crudely stamped into place by wired paperclips and transparent tape. “You’re going to Calabria,” the silver-haired man states. “They bled Volpe dry before they fled. But they were sloppy and got caught selling the Boss’s own product outside of his territory.”

They – the targets: Caponata and Tortano.

“They left a trail,” Prosciutto comments, bleakly.

“Indeed, and it turned cold in Calabria two months ago – Tropea, specifically. But we know that they’re still there. Passione has no reach in Vibo Valentia: that territory still belongs to one of the remaining families from La ‘Ndrangheta. There’s a man who owns a restaurant in Tropea. His name is Ditalini Mina. He orchestrates a narcotics ring there, and he pays Passione directly for protection.”

Prosciutto stubs his spent cigarette against the crystalline ashtray. “And?”

“Caponata came to Ditalini,” Risotto says. “And Ditalini sold him out – but he doesn’t know this. You need to get to Ditalini, though he won’t speak to you; it won’t matter to him whether you are from Passione or not. Know this: the Boss has specified that the restaurant owner should not to be harmed. Unless, of course, you find out that he has been in fact aided Caponata.”

“You want me to kill him if he betrayed the Boss,” Prosciutto repeats. “I’m assuming I won’t be compensated any more for this. Why bother?”

Risotto says nothing of the backhanded comment. He points to the roster of Ditalini’s employees. A stack of photograph makes for supplementary viewing. “I recommend that you acquaint yourself with one of his staff – find out what they know before taking matters into your own hands. It might help you to avoid unneeded attention, should you find that the man is working for Caponata.”

The photographs shift as Prosciutto lays them out before him. He notes that only two women work for the man: Farinata Pavone and [Y/N] Una. Either of them will suffice. In his experience, he has found that the lips of a target are easily loosened by expensive gifts or sex. It is a horrible thing to do, using someone like that, and one that he reserves as a last-resort option.

“Ditalini frequents Di Maccu several times a week. But he never goes alone. Perhaps you should start there.”

With a sharp nod, Prosciutto closes the dossier and tucks it betwixt his arm and torso. His evening will be spent pouring over its contents, committing every face and every name to memory. “When do I leave?” he finally asks.

“Tomorrow morning.”

Prosciutto sighs. He cares little for unnecessarily arduous contracts, and this is no exception – he is paid to take lives, not to play detective. Yet, he is grateful for the work.

“I suppose I better start packing then,” he concludes with a sigh. After all, this job has never been easy.

The air within Di Maccu smells faintly of cinnamon and bergamot, courtesy of the incense burning atop the mantle of the sealed fireplace. An English song echoes through the speakers. The words are foreign to many of the bar’s occupants; yet this has never stopped the younger crowds from swaying in their seats as they upheld conversations amongst each other.

For un mercoledì sera, the bar is considerably full. The table nearest to the front door is occupied by three employees from the restaurant Il Basilico Sospeso: Farinata, a waitress and woman of twenty-six with a deep affinity for clubbing; Pandoro, a line cook who had first been hired as a young boy assigned to washing dishes; and the owner Ditalini Mina, an older man who colors the silver steaks in his greying hair with gawdy black dye like epoxy paint.

As she lowers the martini, Farinata’s voice slips from her mouth in chorus to the young pop-star’s ballad. In the waitress’s state of unassuming lucidity, she effortlessly slips into the foreign language of the singer and hums along.

Ditalini smirks over the rim of his frosted pint glass. Pandoro releases a cloud of white smoke into the air before offering his cigarette to the singing woman. She plucks it from his fingers with greed. Her red lipstick stains the wax paper. Ditalini taps the face of his studded watch. “What’s taking her so long?” he asks, his speech cutting above the music.

Farinata shrugs and flicks ashes away from the smoldering cigarette. “Maybe she died,” she says in a tone that might suggest that she is only joking. “I’ll text her.”

Pandoro leans back in his chair and points towards the window that hangs above their table. “No need,” he insists. “Here she comes now.”

The door opens, sending a ring through the cramped bar as the bell above the arch jingles. Several patrons turn to observe you – the new customer – but mostly everyone else remains focused on their own drinks. Hair sticks to your face, plastered by a light sheen of sweat. You slump down in the unoccupied chair across from Ditalini. Your coworkers gawk at you with grins. You wonder if Pandoro knows that his bottom row of teeth is filled with rot.

“Took you long enough!” Farinata berates. She holds the cigarette out to you, which you promptly refuse and instead move to fix your own hair via the guidance of your reflection in the window.

“Sorry I’m late,” you huff, digging through your purse for your money and photo identification card. “Trish needed help with her book report.”

“A book report?” Pandoro snorts. “This late in the evening?”

“Did I mention how it’s due tomorrow morning and she waited until tonight to start it?”

Ditalini brushes away fallen cigarette ashes with the back of his hand. “Well, you sister set you an hour back,” he chortles. “You have a lot of catching up to do – go on, get your drink. We’re not going anywhere.”

You do not need to be told twice. The sound of your kitten heels clacking off the brick floors is lost to the thrum of laughter and music. The line at the end of the bar is wrapped all the way back to the jukebox. The only empty barstool is the second one from the rightmost end, nearest the line, and is sandwiched between two men. The first man strikes up a conversation with the woman to his left – who, you think, is admittedly too pretty for him. The second man stares at the bottles of fruit-flavored rums straight ahead of him. You cannot help but to notice his peculiarly styled hair, held in place by four vertically braided buns at the back of his blonde head.

You weigh your options and decide that you do not have the patience (for it never has been a virtue of yours) to stand in the line. So, you settle for the barstool. It creaks beneath your weight and scuttles against the floor. The bartender – aptly Maccu himself – takes your awaiting identification card. His trained eyes scan over the finest details of lamination and creasing. Satisfied that you are of the legal drinking age, he returns the card and places a cork coaster before you.

“What can I get for you?” he asks.

“A vodka cranberry, per favore.”

“Lime?”

“Sì, grazie.”

“Any preference for your vodka?”

You clutch the wad of cash in your hand. “Whatever’s cheapest,” you specify.

“Make it a Grey Goose.” Maccu’s head snaps in the direction of the raspy tone belonging to the blonde man seated next to you; the man’s interjection has surprised you both. “Put it on my tab.”

With a quick smile, the bartender reaches for the top-self liquors. “Thank you,” you tell the man beside you. “But you didn’t need to do that.”

"Forgive my intrusion. It’s just that you look like someone who’s had a difficult day,” he nonchalantly insists, as if it is his custom to buy expensive drinks for strangers. You take note of your appearance in the wall mirror; its honesty is frightening compared to the sight that greeted you in the window. You swipe the back of your hand across your puffed, swollen eyes – you have bled your makeup dry. “None of that cheap American shit is going to make you feel any better. In fact, I would hardly call it vodka.”

You humor him: “That’s an astute observation. My mother isn’t doing well – that’s all.”

He hums to himself and returns to the bourbon that has been watered down by the melting block of ice. Despite his initial cordiality, he has made it painfully obvious that he does not genuinely wish to hold a conversation with you. Perhaps it is because of the bombshell you have only just dropped – perhaps you have killed the mood.

You were not late this evening because of Trish’s procrastination over a school assignment; in truth, there is no book report either. Your tardiness could only be blamed by an urgent phone call from your mother’s doctor. It is a challenge in and of itself to face your coworkers (whom you do not entirely care for) when you have just been told that your mother is dying.

Maccu places your purple drink atop the coaster. You thank him and squeeze the lime into the glass. Loosened seeds filter past the floating ice cubes and settle at the bottom of the glass like sediment. Your mother may be close to death’s door, but you deserve a night out nonetheless; Trish herself had insisted it.

You turn to the blonde man. “My name’s [Y/N], by the way.”

He looks up from his drink and offers his name with a faint smirk: “Prosciutto.”

You take a sip of your beverage and wince at the chill that bites at your teeth. Though your coworkers are waiting for your return, you refuse to go back. Considering your circumstances, it is not the best night to put up with Farinata’s drunken clinginess or Pandoro’s eccentricities, or to mask your annoyances with geniality.

This goes without saying that Ditalini brings about an entirely new level of discomfort for you; he unnerves you to your very core. You have worked for him for months now, and still that feeling of anxiousness gnaws at you every time you see him. In the beginning, it had been the intimidation – that he is your boss and you a new employee with limited work experience. He never hesitated to reprimand you in front of the others whenever you over-poured liquor or lost track of the rotation. But you were quick to learn. You had to be.

Ditalini has high expectations, and waitstaff is expendable.

You remember the night of the incident too clearly. You were leaving for the evening, and you used the backdoor that lead to the parking lot to exit the restaurant. And there, just before the dumpsters, stood your boss and a customer. You recognized the latter as one of your own patrons, and he had left you a sizeable tip. He held an oddly shaped parcel in his hands. Ditalini paged through a booklet of money. You had not meant for them to see you.

Ditalini’s reaction to your unwarranted intrusion had consisted only of a simple wave and a toothy grin. Among many things, you like to think that you are not a terribly ignorant person. It is not exactly a secret to the locals of Tropea that Ditalini had come from old mafia family roots, or that he used Il Basilico Sospeso as his own money-laundering scapegoat. The restaurant simply could not get by on selling underpriced beers and antipasto platters alone. You often wonder whether cocaine sales are tax deductible or not.

The very next day, Ditalini had pulled you into his office and ushered you to sit in the armchair across from his oak desk. The leather crinkled upon contact, contorting like the skin of a spoiled plum. You felt as if you were in a doctor’s office, under the scrutiny of a specialist; your boss certainly watched you the same way as your former family practitioner. You were prepared to be fired or shot in the head. Instead, Ditalini merely requested that you accompany him and the others on their weekly sojourns to Di Maccu.

You were quick to suspect the man’s ulterior motives: he sought to placate your silence with a false sense of comradery.

Downing the rest of your drink, you glance over at the table. Ditalini peers at you and rolls his emptied glass in the air as if he is contemplating another round. You turn away with a shudder. Regret is a familiar friend – you chastise yourself for finally caving into his request. You set your finished glass on the coaster. The man, Prosciutto has downed his bourbon as well. He places a hand inside his dark blue suit jacket; the sleeve shimmies up his arm just enough to reveal a silver-plated wristwatch. The corner of an MS cigarette carton pokes through his inner jacket pocket.

“Do you smoke?” he suddenly asks you.

Your eyes meet his steel-blue gaze. You think, as you take in his composed appearance, that he looks out of place in this bar. An expertly tailored suit and a large gold pendant hanging from his neck – not to mention his wristwatch – are not part of the typical uniform of the usual crowd. Di Maccu is certainly not the glitzy cocktail bar that would otherwise compliment Prosciutto’s fashion choices. He cocks a blonde eyebrow at you; you realize that your hesitation to respond has irked him.

“No, I don’t,” you tell him. Even his cigarettes are expensive.

He nods before resting his coaster on top of his bourbon glass. His form disappears as he slips through the backdoor and into the parking lot. Before he slipped away, you noticed a silver-plated lighter in his hand. It matches his wristwatch.

There is no policy that prohibits smoking inside of Maccu’s bar. Farinata and Pandoro have already demonstrated that. And yet, the handsome blonde stranger dubbed Prosciutto took himself outside to do it. Perhaps his decision was made of respect – otherwise, it came from an unspoken desire to escape from the noise confined within the bar’s walls.

Maccu comes by to collect your empty glass. “How much was my drink?” you ask him.

“13,000 lire.”

You count the proper amount and tuck it beneath Prosciutto’s cup. While you appreciate his gesture of goodwill, you cannot allow him to pay for your drink. You know well enough that a stranger in a bar would only do such a thing if he was looking for a quickie in the bathroom. Tonight is not the night for that.

Your purse begins to vibrate. You sort through discarded gum wrappers and dried mascara cartilages to find your cell phone. The bright green light of its face glares up at you

Trish – 2 New Messages:

can u come home

please i dont want 2 b alone

Ditalini stops you at the door. His hand rests on your bare shoulder, his skin calloused like sandpaper. You tug away from him, cautious not to draw attention from your other coworkers. “Is everything alright, bella?” he questions; the slur of his speech implies his intoxication, as if you could not already detect it on his breath.

You nod fervently and clutch your purse. “Trish needs my help again, that’s all,” you tell him. You feign disappointment. This seems to please him. “So, I’m heading home.”

“Would you like me to drive you? It’s late, you know.”

“No, grazie però.” You reply too hastily, but he does not notice the inflection. “I don’t live too far from here.”

And you are gone before he can protest.

| 2688 Words |

* Please note that future chapters will only be posted to Ao3 - you can find the link to my profile under my navigation tab

#prosciutto x reader #prosciutto #la squadra #jjba reader insert #jjba x reader #vento aureo #golden wind

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writing-essence · 4 years

Text

It Ate My Cat

Chapter One: Sheet Faced

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Warnings: language, underage drinking, sexual harassment (billy being an ass)

Summary: You’ve known Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington since your first days moving to Hawkins. What happens when you get wrapped up in his interdimensional babysitting adventure with your younger brother?

Author’s Note: I started writing this a year ago and it’s all I've been thinking about. Another friends to lovers slow burn you’re welcome! -Milla

Word Count: 1,756

"Hey, Y/N! Tina from my chemistry class handed me a flyer to go to her Halloween Bash. I heard it's gonna be totally bitchin!" Amber, your friend, approached you holding a bright orange paper waving in her hand.

"Well,” you sighed, “I hope you have fun but I promised my mom I'd hand out the candy this year." You shut your locker turning on your heel down the hall.

"Oh c'mon I'm sure your mom won't mind and we don't have to show up 'til 8," she started to plead. "We haven't been to a party in forever and you need to talk to someone other than me, your brother or your cat."

You rolled your eyes and groaned. "Okay fine, I'll ask if I can go out. Happy?" She nodded her head with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. Amber was definitely more of the partier, it's not that you didn't like parties it's just too much of a gamble. Either you dance away into the night or you end up with your friends vomit on your shoes and your white t-shirt soaked by two idiots in the pool. And in your experience, it’s usually the ladder. You were unlocking your bike when Amber nudged your arm.

"So I'll meet you at your house around 7 tomorrow to get ready okay?"

"Is it a costume thing?" You asked and she nodded her blonde head. "So what are we even going to be? I don't have time to put together a costume. I still have to finish my brother's.”

"Don't worry about it, I got this. It'll be good, trust me," she winked waltzing off to the upper parking lot. She was a persuasive one.

The house was empty by the time you got home. Mom was at work and Dustin was most likely at the arcade with the party as they called themselves. "Well Mews, it looks like it's just you and me again," you said scratching under her chin. After grabbing an apple you headed to your room and pulled Dustin's costume out of the closet. After two hours of pricking your finger and pulling loose threads, you were finally finished. Dustin had gotten home about a half-hour ago from, you guessed it, the arcade.

"Dustin! I finished your costume!" You called. You heard the door next to yours open and a haphazard shuffle down the hall. He burst into your room zooming to where you sat at your desk.

"Thanks, Y/N, this is awesome!" His eyes were wide as he examined your handy work.

"Yeah sure and like we agreed you're doing dishes this month." His smile faltered but begrudgingly muttered out a confirmation and left the room still immersed in the costume.

You were helping your mom with dinner and decided now was as good a time as ever to ask about skipping candy duty tomorrow. "So mom, I finished Dusty's costume today. He loves it!" She nodded and mumbled an approving response. You cleared your throat, "ya know Amber invited me to her friends Halloween party and I know I said I'd help with candy duty but she really wants me to go," you continued nonchalantly chopping the vegetables until she replied.

"Oh sweetie, of course, you can go to a party! I didn't want you to feel left out tomorrow with Dusty going with his friends tomorrow since you’re usually the one to watch them, but now that you have plans, of course, you can go out!" She enthused.

You were taken aback as you thanked her. Maybe Amber was right, you did need to get out more. The kids were getting older and didn't need you to tag along on with them anymore. As fond, as you were of the rambunctious group, Johnathan had it covered. It was time for you to let loose for a night.

The next day flew by quick. Mom couldn't get over the costume you made for Dustin, absolutely gushing when taking pictures, the history test wasn't nearly as hard as you thought it'd be, and apparently, John and Becky were back together, at least according to Amber. Dustin had gone over to Mike’s so for the time being you were on candy duty. It was nearing 7 o'clock when there was a knock on the door revealing Amber and not a group of trick-or-treat-ers. She grabbed your arm and dragged you to your room with a bag in hand.

"Okay, I have the costumes!” She flung the paper bag across your bed. “You'll be Spock and I'll be Captain Kirk because I'm cooler." She pulled out a blue dress and tossed it to you. She had forced you to watch Star Trek a few times before and recalling what you had seen there was only a small issue.

"Woah, woah, woah does that mean I have to have weird eyebrows?" You asked. Amber simply sighed defeated.

"Okay fine you don't have to do the eyebrows!” she reasoned slowly inching towards you. “But in my heart, I know who you really are," she landed her pointer finger on your forehead. Looking up cross-eyed you pushed her hand away.

"You really are the weirdest person I know," you took the dress and changed.

You two rolled up to the party before 9 after getting ready and narrowly escaping your mother’s camera. The party was in full swing, a group of boys were in a huddle shouting what vaguely sounded like "Keg King" the boy in the middle was the new guy at school. The second you stepped in the door Amber headed straight for the punch which could only be spiked with god knows what. She handed you a cup and you swirled it around taking in your surroundings. She dragged you to the dance floor. While nursing your drink amidst the sweaty teenage bodies you started to let go. Nobody had a care in the world until Steve and Nancy made a scene by the punch bowl. As quick as the party stopped and all eyes were on them they shifted back to the music. You were finishing up your first cup while Amber was on her third.

"I hope we get arrested for underage drinking," she slung an arm over your shoulder.

"Why's that?" You asked knowing she's a lightweight, at this point in the night she was a goner.

"Because have you seen the sheriff? That ass in those pants wooo!" She lifted her cup to the air and spun around stumbling spilling some of her drink.

"Okay, that's enough for you," You snorted taking the cup from her hand and placing it down on the counter. "Let's go sit down alright?" She nodded, giggling, continuing her inappropriate comments about the chief. Pushing through the crowded hallway you managed to find an empty room. You propped her up on the couch and handed her a cup of water. After much wrangling trying to get her to sober up, you went to refill the water. As you were walking down the hall the new guy caught up to you. You kept your head down breaking any eye contact and yet there he was still blocking your path.

"I don't think we've met, you know my name?" He asked leaning against the wall too close for comfort.

"Keg King?" You quipped at the denim-clad teen.

"Damn right it is!" He shouted and started chanting the nickname towards the group of boys behind him. The gaggle of goons continued their chant to the living room, leaving their king behind. "Name’s Billy. And you?" He asked turning back to you putting his hand on your arm. You shook it off and reluctantly answered. "Well, Y/N what do you say we find an empty room?" His hand traveled to your waist. You flinched away from his grasp.

"In your dreams," you tried to push forward toward the kitchen but he closed you in against the wall.

"Let's try that again," his grip tightened to the point of hoping you wouldn't end up with a bruise tomorrow. You struggled to try to free yourself from between him and the wall. You started to panic when someone shouted from up the hall.

"Hey, asshole leave her alone!"

You turned and saw Steve Harrington making his way towards the scene. He shoved Billy off of you and body checked him into a painting opposite you. Billy steadied himself to fight back but Steve had already stormed off through the crowd.

"Hey!" You ran after him weaving through the mess of drunken teens. "Steve!" He ignored your calls rushing outside towards his car. "Hey, Harrington!" You heaved catching your breath as he stood next to his car his back turned to you.

"What?" He snapped.

"I- just wanted to say-" you hesitated at his outburst, stepping closer. Your gratitude was interrupted by sniffling, “-are you okay?"

His keys jiggled as they hit the pavement. Before you could do anything arms were thrown around you and tears hit your shoulder. Unsure of the etiquette of the position you were in you patted his back and murmured words of comfort. Quickly he pulled away running his hands through his hair mumbling an "I'm sorry"

"You know Harrington we really have to stop meeting like this," you laughed trying to make light of the situation. He just shook his head staring at the ground. "Do you wanna tell me what happened?"

"She dumped me."

"What Nancy? I mean I know you guys had a punch incident but don't you think-" he cut you off.

"She said it was bullshit, everything." There was a flicker in his eye and he turned to his car. "Bullshit!" He kicked the front tire, aggression masking the tears. Your instincts jumped in from all of Dustin’s sporadic incidents over the years.

"Hey, hey, hey,” you jumped forward. “Look I get that it sucks but breaking your foot won't be much help,” you grabbed his shoulders leading him away from the scuffed tire. "Are you sure you’re okay to drive?"

He looked up at me and nodded slowly letting out a deep breath. He unlocked his car door and looked back at you apologetically. "Uh thanks for- for that," he shrugged unsure what to call the exchange, you gave him a small smile in return.

"Stay safe Harrington," you said starting to walk backward towards the party.

"You too Henderson."

With that, he started up his car while you tracked down your very drunk friend.

#steve harrington #stranger things #billy hargrove #dustin henderson #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington series #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things series

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sasuhinasno1fan · 7 years

Text

A special day for a special person-HAPPY BIRTHDAY LANCE!

It’s the birthday of a very special Guardian Spirt of Water. Lance, my baby. I like to say all the characters are my babies, but I hold a special place for Lance, since I see myself in him a bit. I got really excited when his birthday was being announced because it’s so close to mine. If he was born on the 31st, that would have been cool and Harry Potter would not be the only person I share a birthday with. But he’s born today and everyone is celebrating. So I was a bit stuck coming up with an idea when I watched PointlessBlog’s video about celebrating his sister’s birthday and it struck me. Since this is a klance story, I also knew what Keith was gonna give Lance. YouTuber AU has always been pretty hard for me and I’ve been wanting to do them for a while. So fingers crossed this goes well and another very happy birthday to my favourite Blue Paladin, Lance.

“Don’t.” Keith ordered as Red got close to his vlogging camera, which was filming a time lapse of him making Lance breakfast. He swore, if Red knocked his camera over again, he’d be on hiatus for a week because the screen would finally be broken and Amazon just loved taking forever with his orders. The Somali cat stared down at her owner, her paw slightly raised, as if to knock the camera from on top of the Keurig where it was balancing. “You do that, and I’m throwing you outside and not letting you in. I’ll even give your birthday dinner you only get like 3 times a year to Blue, do not think I won’t do it.” The two stared each other down before Red jumped down from the counter and sauntered out of the kitchen.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Keith turned the stove off and dished the apple ring pancakes on a plate before putting on the tray. He already set out a glass of grapefruit juice, a small jug a maple syrup and a bowl of Greek yogurt and fruit. Once he was sure everything was set, he went over to his camera and stopped recording, putting the camera into his sweatpants pocket.

He carried the tray upstairs, where he knew Lance was awake, if the music coming from their room was anything to go by. He nudged the door open to see Lance splayed out on his back on, while Blue sat between her owner’s legs half asleep. At lease someone knows how to behave.

“Aww, babe.” Lance grabbed his own vlogging camera and turned it on to Keith. “Look what the world’s best boyfriend did for me. What’s on today’s menu?”

Sitting the tray on the bed next to Lance, Keith pointed out everything for Lance’s viewers. “Apple ring pancakes, actually made with red apples this time, Greek yogurt with mango, kiwi, blueberries and blackberries. No strawberries cause someone is allergic. Grapefruit juice to drink because somehow, you function without coffee in the morning. But I know for a fact we will be getting coffee later.”

“That is true, thank you.”

Keith sat down and nodded to the camera that was still focused on the food, as Lance poured the syrup on his pancakes, “have you told them it’s your birthday?”

Lance nodded, stopping his recording and putting his camera down before cutting into the pancakes. “Blue woke me up by purring in my face and rubbing her face all over mine. Also, good idea to put my phone on mute because my entire screen was filled with notifications. Mmm,” Lance moaned, “ok, red apples work better than green. This is amazing. Say ahh.” Lance ordered, holding a piece in front of Keith’s mouth.

Not even bothering to say no, Keith ate the piece, stunned when Lance snuck a kiss out of it. He chewed slowly as Lance stared him down with a cheeky smile on his face. Keith already knew his face was turning red from the look on Lance’s face.

He shook his head and pulled out his camera. Officially he hadn’t started his vlog and he had a lot planned. Flipping up the camera screen, Keith started recording again and faced it towards Lance just as he was taking a bite out of his pancakes.

“Lance, what’s happening today?” he asked, Lance putting his hand in front of his full mouth. He only smiled at the small glare his boyfriend gave him.

“It’s my birthday and Keith made me breakfast in bed.”

Keith decided to keep the camera on the birthday boy. “What are our plans today?”

“I’m going to go get my nails done while you go shopping for a possible new camera because Red is a naughty kitty who doesn’t understand the word no.”

“She almost knocked the camera down again when I was doing a time lapse. I had to threaten to not give her birthday dinner.”

“In case you guys are confused, when it’s mine, Keith’s or the cats’ birthday, we make this really fancy cat dinner. Because the cats were adopted at the same time, we consider that their birthday, so they only get it like 3 times a year.” Lance explained.

“Yeah, so I guess she understood cause she left without touching it, so this camera survived another encounter with the Great Red Beast.”

Lance almost choked on his juice. “Great Red Beast, pft. Oh my god. Anyway, after that, we’re going to chill at home because everyone got stuck doing things but everyone’s free this evening so we’re going out for dinner. After getting my nails done, we might just chill in the house?” Lance pondered out loud.

“Maybe, might go out for a little while. We’ll see where the day takes us.”

“Yay!” Lance cheered as Keith turned the camera off.

Keith started planting kissed all over Lance’s cheek and neck, making him giggle. “I didn’t say happy birthday yet, so accept my apology.”

“I accept. Babe, stop, your gonna wake Blue up. Stop.” Lance whined, not really pulling away from the onslaught of kisses.

Changed into shots and shirt, Lance stole one of Keith’s flannels and headed down the stairs, where he heard his boyfriend putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

“Don’t you have your own flannel shirts?” Keith asked, even though they both knew Keith loved seeing Lance in his clothes.

Lance only stuck his tongue out at him as he entered their video room where their main filming camera, tripods, lights, batteries and such would be. He opened the drawer that was labelled ‘Lance’s batteries’ and took one out, knowing his camera would die while he was out.

“Can you get my tripod please? I think I left it on the desk.” Keith called from the kitchen.

Lance spotted the tripod with its spindly legs. Usually the joints were grey but since they would have two of everything, Keith painted the joints red. He grabbed it and met Keith by the front door.

“Thank you. Got everything?” Keith asked, watching Lance pull on his low-cut converse.

“I need to grab my bag. You can start the car, I’ll lock the door.” Lance said, heading up the stairs back to the room.

Keith went in unlocked the car, sitting in the front seat and attached his camera to the dashboard mount before turning it to face him.

“Ok,” he said to the recording camera, “so Lance went to the room to get his bag, so I’ll be quick. Everyone was not busy this afternoon. Actually they’re at Allura and Shiro’s house getting ready for a surprise for Lance, which I’ll explain more of later.” He was quick to end that clip short as Lance came out the door, locking it behind him.

“Ready? Let’s go!” Keith pulled out of the garage and into the road while Lance messed with the radio. He couldn’t find a station he was happy with, so he plugged his phone in with the AUX cord. Keith tried not to groan at the sound of Selena Gomez’s Birthday, which Lance immediately started singing.

“Are you gonna do this every year?” he asked, noticing Lance was filming them on his own camera.

“Yep, top on my birthday playlist. Don’t worry, I have that violin cover of Growl on next. You and your secret boy-crush on EXO are all good.”

“Stop telling everyone I have a boy-crush on EXO.” Keith demanded, tempted to push the camera away from him, but couldn’t take his hands off the wheel. He knew he’d have to persuade Lance later when he was editing to cut that part out.

They soon reached the nail salon that Lance favoured.

“What designs are you going to get?” Keith asked, as his blue eyes boyfriend made sure he had everything.

“I don’t know. I got Space Ranger Vs last time. Maybe, cat whiskers? We’ll see. I’ll text you when I’m done.” Lance said, pressing a kiss to Keith’s cheek, before getting out the car.

Once Keith saw Lance getting attended to by one of the workers, Keith turned the camera to face him as he drove off.

“Ok, I dropped Lance off and now for an explanation. So like I said earlier, everyone is not busy, they are all at Allura and Shiro’s house because we planned a surprise birthday picnic for Lance. Lance and his family do a lot of birthday picnics and since they can’t be here, I got the idea for the surprise party and since we all love Lance, we made the biggest effort to make this really special. So I’m actually headed to Shiro’s house because thanks to Allura begging for it, when they got their house, they got one with a huge backyard and that’s where the picnic is. We’ve been planning this for a while. I’m just lucky Lance wanted to get his nails done and I had the excuse to get a new camera, so I can go. Also lucky that Pidge bought my new camera for me. They have it with them at the house so hopefully the next time we talk, the camera’s quality all around, will be much better.”

When Keith reached Shiro and Allura’s house, he went through the back gate, where he found everyone around a blue pop up gazebo. Two of the walls were up, blocking out most of the sunlight, and flowers were wrapped around the support lines.

“Hey you’re here.” Keith saw Shiro walking out from inside the house, holding two tables under each arm, one smaller and shorter than the other. His dog Voltron hoped out behind him.

“Here Voltron. Take to cameras.” He ordered the husky, handing her the stand. He went over to help his brother with the lager table and noticed the line of cameras sitting on the window ledges. Nice to know he wasn’t the only one who constantly did time lapses. “I couldn’t exactly force Lance to move quicker without making it obvious I wanted him out of the house.”

They rested the larger table next to one of the walls. On the inside, because of the sunlight, everything was bathed in a blue tint, making it look like it was under water. Which was perfect because the theme was anything sea related.

“Could you go inside and grab the blankets and stuff by the door? There should be pillows there as well.” Shiro asked, resting the smaller table. “Allura doesn’t want any dirt on this smaller table, so we’re gonna put them on the blankets.”

“sure.” He dodged Allura, who was bringing out another tall table, while Pidge was messing with his camera.

“The line of time lapses is done.” Pidge told Keith.

“Good, then you can help me bring the blankets out.” he said, picking up one pillow and throwing it at Pidge.

“Ah! Abuse!” they yelled.

“If Lance isn’t allowed to use that excuse, then you can’t either.” Keith said picking up the piles of blankets and outside mats, leaving the pillows and such for Pidge.

Between Allura, Shiro, Pidge and himself, they laid out all the blankets, pillows and had begun placing all the balloons when Hunk started bringing out the food.

“Keith, you might want to get your camera, because you’re going to love the cake.” Hunk suggested, as he headed back inside.

“Oh wait!” Pidge said, from their seat on Shiro’s shoulder as they attached large paper flower to each end of the gazebo. “I have your new camera, wait! Shiro, put me down!”

Keith saw Hunk heading outside while he was watching Pidge switch out his memory card from his old camera to his new one. When he actually went back outside, he saw why Hunk said to have his camera out.

“Everyone,” Keith said turning the camera to Hunk, who looked extremely proud of himself, “bow to the greatness that is Hunk.” Lance’s birthday cake was amazing. It was a two tiered cake and Hunk had taken inspiration from the unicorn cake. The top was the mermaid’s face and the bottom was covered in the pipped flowers that made up her hair, with shells and a wave motive. The crown Hunk made for it was amazing. “is that icing?” Keith asked, ghosting over what looked like a string of pearls going from the shell that sat in what would have been the middle of the forehead.

“Yep. It’s a vanilla cake with berries in the middle and I somehow got the tone of icing on the first try, so it matches Lance’s. Does it look good?”

“Hunk, this is amazing.” Allura said, as she looked over Keith’s shoulder. “You’re doing mine.”

Hunk looked so smug. Keith couldn’t blame him, both of them had been apprehensive that the idea would even work, but it did.

“I think we’re done decorating.” Allura announced. The balloons, blankets and pillows, streamers, food and everything was in its place. Now all they needed was Lance.

“How long have we been decorating for?” Shiro asked, stealing a slice of watermelon from the plater.

“Almost half in hour? I’m getting our camera and letting Voltron back inside.” Allura said.

“Let Hime out!” Shiro called after her, reminding her about their escape artist black cat.

“It usually takes him about 45 minutes to get his nails done because the people at the saloon love him and work pretty quick with him.” Keith said, doing a panorama shot of the whole set up. “It took me about 15 minutes to get here, so he should be done soon then.” Sure enough, Keith heard Lance’s ringtone from his phone and once Shiro turned off the music, Keith answered. “Hello?...hi…I got my new camera and I’ve been in the bookstore just browsing. Do you want me to come get you now?...ok, I’ll see you soon.” He hung up and faced the camera towards him, Shiro poking out from behind his shoulder. “And the pressure is on now. I’m going to pick up Lance and pray he isn’t confused as to why I’m bringing him here and then the surprise goes down.”

“Fingers crossed everyone. Godspeed Keith.”

When Lance spotted the car outside, he waved goodbye to all the workers, thanking them again before leaving the saloon. He opened the car door and slid into the seat, ignoring the camera as he pressed a quick kiss to Keith’s lips.

“Mm, you taste like champagne.” Keith commented.

“They gave me a mimosa and one of their special champagne cupcakes, which they usually charge like $4 for because it was my birthday. But I swear I’m not tipsy.” Lance stated, making it clear to Keith and the camera.

“Then I’d get to tease you about being a lightweight, but you’d complain about teasing the birthday boy. Can I see your nails?”

Lance showed him the galaxy nails with red and blue cat motifs on them.

“Wow. Are they gel?”

“They are. You are learning. I’m so proud of you.” Lance said, nudging his forehead against Keith’s. He could care less that Keith might leave this whole section out of his video, he was just happy Keith could be affectionate with him even with the camera on him. It had taken him a while to get used to it, but eventually, he was able to ignore the camera. Editing did exist for a reason.

“Hey, so I was asked something, not bad, but kinda out of our way. The person who was supposed to look after Voltron and Hime had to cancel last minute and Shiro asked if we’d be ok walking Voltron.”

“Not like we really have anything else planned. I don’t mind.” Lance said, shrugging.

“Yeah? Alright. We could pick up lunch after we walk her.”

“Yeah. That’s fine.” Lance turned Keith’s camera around while he did something on his phone before pulling out his own camera. He recorded showing off his nails, seeing how he didn’t get a chance to show the final product in the saloon and updated them on what they were doing as Keith drove them to Shiro and Allura’s place.

They arrived and were getting out of the car when Keith said, “Shiro said the back gate is open, so we can go in that way.”

Lance didn’t think much about how that would work on getting inside from the patio door as opposed to the front, but he still went the way Keith suggested. He opened the back gate and walked further into the backyard when he saw the pop up gazebo.

“What the hell?

“Surprise! Happy birthday!”

Lance let out a yelp as his friends came out from what seemed like nowhere. He couldn’t believe his eyes as he stood there kinda stunned as he was pulled into a hug from Hunk.

“Oh my god? Oh my god, guys!” Lance felt his eyes stinging once what was happening finally sank in.

“So we know that your family does birthday picnics and as much as I’d like to say that they’re here, they’re not. But we wanted you to do what you do with them for your birthday.” Keith explained, once Lance was out of Hunk’s hug.

Lance was wiping away any stray tears that had escaped. “Oh my god, thank you.” Lance said, hugging Keith before pulling away, “this is amazing. Thank you guys.”

“We got you good didn’t we?” Pidge said.

“Uh, yeah. I’m mostly surprised you kept this from me,” Lance said, looking at Keith, “especially since you’re a crap liar.”

“He got lessons from Pidge for weeks just so he knew what to say.” Shiro threw in, Pidge looking very proud of themselves.

Remembering he had a rolling camera in his hand, Lance turned around, getting everyone in shot. “So turns out that Keith can lie, with lessons from Pidge, because he tricked me into thinking that we were going to walk Shiro and Allura’s dog but instead, I come to my very own birthday picnic. I have the best friends ever! And the best boyfriend too.”

“Ok, you need to come see your cake before we get this party started because it is amazing.” Allura said, dragging Lance over to the gazebo.

“Oh my god,” Lance had a feeling he’d be saying that a lot for the afternoon, “that’s amazing! Guys, Hunk is truly one of the best people in the world. He made me a mermaid cake!”

“Yes I am and I filmed myself making this and the video for that goes up on the 31st of July.” Hunk told his own camera.

“Oh, vlogception. This means, I can give you my honest opinion on how it taste, which will no doubt be amazing. Quick thing though, can you take the top layer with the face and crown off so I can take it home?”

“I’ll do it before we cut the cake. But first, let’s eat!”

The cameras went away as everyone went to grab a plate and fill it with the amazing food Hunk made. While they were waiting, Lance was planting so many kisses on Keith’s cheek.

“My samurai actually managed to lie to me. I’m so proud of you. Should I be scared though?”

“No. It took everything in me to keep myself from giving it away this morning.” Keith said, looking like he really meant it.

“I swear, Keith is such an awkward liar.” Pidge complained, filling their mason jar with raspberry lemonade. “Teaching him how to actually lie probably was achingly painful.”

“Gee thank you for taking to time and effort to teach me.” Keith drawled, dishing himself a pasta dish.

Food was eaten and everyone was relaxed in the sun. Keith and Lance were lying on top of the Lazmac couch, while the others, except for Pidge, who was editing their video on a large pillow, were sprawled on the blankets. Lance was on top of Keith, letting the paler man play with his hair when he noticed Allura pulling out her camera.

“So Lance, we have another surprise actually.”

“What else could I get?”

“Am I that unforgettable?” an almost Australian accented voice spoke.

“Coran!” Lance yelled, getting off of Keith and running to hug the orange haired man.

“Oh great, Slav’s here too.” Shiro moaned

Slav was Coran’s Yorkshire Terrier who was scared of everything but also very good at annoying everyone. His favourite victim was Shiro. Coran on the other hand, had been the first YouTuber to colab with Lance and they had been close ever since. Lance did this series every year called ‘I have awesome friends’, where he talked about each person’s accomplishments and talking about how lucky he was to be friends with them. The first time he did it, he called Coran his YouTube dad. Lance might be a mommy’s boy but he always admired his father. Funnily enough, Coran met Lance’s parents and Mr. McClain and Coran got along great. Coran would travel the world at different times so Lance was glad he could be here in time to celebrate his birthday.

“Coran!” Slav already making quick work of annoying Shiro, by chewing at his shoe. “Get off flea bag.” Shiro growled

“Shiro!” Allura said disapprovingly.

“Ok, no. Voltron is a sweet dog who knows how to behave and listen. This monster doesn’t. Let go of my shoe!”

“I will go let Voltron back out and see if Hime lets me put her harness on her. Don’t kill my uncle’s dog please.”

“No promises.” Shiro said, leaving everyone giggling at him.

“I say, Hunk. You are going places. This cake is amazing. When are we cutting it?”

“Soon. We were going to play a few games so we can be empty enough for cake. Though mostly we’re waiting for me to finish editing.” Pidge said

“Good, I can eat a lot then. Slav, this way.”

Slav finally let Shiro’s shoe go, leaving the Japanese man to stare down at his ruined shoe. “How much do you think Allura will kill me if I make that dog disappear?”

“It’s like you don’t know your girlfriend at all.” Lance joked, laying back on Keith again.

“Doesn’t mean I’m still not tempted.”

When it came time to cut the cake, everyone held their breath as Hunk removed the top tier with the least amount of damage as possible. Everyone let out a huge sigh when the face was on the plate it was going back in.

“Alright, cake!”

Lance cut a small slice, since the circumference of the cake was quite big and put it onto his plate. “Yum berries and cream, without the strawberries cause this boy is very allergic.”

“Oh! Does everyone know the story of how Keith almost gave Lance a really bad allergic reaction?” Hunk asked.

“Hunk, no!” Keith moaned, trying to shut him up.

“Hunk yes! I wanna know.” Coran asked.

“Lance.” Keith moaned, but his boyfriend ignored him.

“So you all know we went out before Valentine’s Day right? Keith, I have a knife.” Lance warned as Keith tried to shut Lance up. Keith moaned, going over to sulk on one of the blankets. “Keith got me macaroons as a present and they were berry flavoured except Keith didn’t really know I’m allergic to strawberries. Luckily, I have to eat a whole one just to feel affects so one small macaroon just made itch badly. I start itching badly and I turn to Keith and I’m like ‘what berries are these?’ and first one is strawberry, to which I reply to ‘I’m allergic’. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone turn so pale so quick and I’ve seen Hunk on a roller coaster.”

“To be honest, he goes pale then green.” Pidge said, taking their plate. “But wow, first valentines at the hospital huh?” Pidge teased, poking Keith with their cold drink, making him glare at them.

“Shut up.”

“He got me the flower flavoured one, which I love and he always makes sure I never have anything strawberry, so he earned major boyfriend points for that.” Lance said, going over and leaning over Keith to kiss his cheek.

After cake, the group passed the time just talking, catching up, playing with the dogs and just being content with everyone’s presence.

Suddenly Pidge asked, “Wait, what time is our dinner reservation again?”

“7:30? Why?” Shiro asked, pulling out his phone and looking at the lock screen. “Oh. We’ve been taking for ages. Guys, its 6:02.”

“Oh gez,” Hunk said, getting up, “we need to pack everything up and head home to get ready.”

With everyone working together, they were able to put away all the food for leftovers everyone, the tent and decorations were taken down and Allura took possession of the balloons Lance didn’t want to keep. Before they knew it, people were in their cars back home to get ready for dinner.

Lance had gotten showered and changed, while Keith put away the food and cake, putting the balloons in Lance’s office so the cats wouldn’t be able to get to it.

Speaking of the cats, they were meowing at his feet, knowing it was time for dinner and tonight was special.

“Alright, calm down.” Keith said pulling the premade food Lance had been making the day before. It was a layer of chicken, cod and salmon and they’d pour a small amount of catnip water for it to sit in. “ok you two, sit. Red, sit.” Keith ordered, when the Russian Blue listened to him but her girlfriend kept trying to swipe it out of his hand. When she finally sat down, he waits a moment before placing the two bowls on the floor.

“Shower’s all yours,” Lance said, coming into the kitchen where the cats were eating. Keith took a moment to admire his boyfriend. He was in grey slacks, white dress shirts and blue tie, his blue boot like shoes just working with his outfit.

“You look very handsome.” Keith commented

“Aww, flattery will get you everywhere. Come on, we need to leave soon.”

Keith was quick to jump into the shower. He knew Lance was going to yell at him for his ripped jeans, but in his defence, they were only ripped once at the knee. He hated having to dress fancy, even though they were going to quite a fancy restaurant, so he tried rebelling just a bit. He pulled on the short sleeved shirt, heading over to his bedside table and at the very back was a jewellery box holding Lance’s present. Keith really hoped he liked it, because honestly it was two kinds of a toss-up. He pulled on his shoes once the shirt was buttoned up and after Lance’s present was in its bag, he went down stairs where he was greeted by Lance filming him.

“Look at this handsome man. And he’s got his hair pulled back in the way I really like.” Keith had used a hair clip to pull his hair back. Honestly Lance loved it whenever it was pulled back anyway but he liked the way it was in now the best. “Come here, I want them to see us in the mirror.”

Near their front door, they had a full length mirror. It wasn’t wide to fit them both in, but they didn’t mind as the pulled close together to show the camera their outfits.

“Ready for birthday dinner?” Keith asked.

“And my presents. Let’s go!”

They had dinner at a Maggiano’s, one of Lance’s favourite Italian restaurants. Coran had been added to the list last minute since Lance didn’t even know he’d be in town when his birthday came around.

“I know I’m supposed to wait until dessert but I can’t wait. Happy birthday my boy!” Coran had gotten Lance a solar system snow globe. It was more glitter than snow to make the stars.

“This is so cool. Where did you get this?” Lance asked, trying to make sure he didn’t drop it. It was pretty big.

“I made it myself actually. It took a while but it worked out in the end. I’m glad you like.”

“I love it, thank you.” While it was a whole course early, it just made Lance even more excited to get the rest of his presents.

Finally, food had been eaten and dessert had been ordered. In the time it would take for deserts to get there, they had time to give their presents.

Pidge had given Lance a sheet of paper. Lance was extremely confused and wondered if all the late night gaming and such had finally taken its toll when he realised it was a receipt for an online order.

“Oh, it’s those cat night lights. Look the one I really wanted.” The cat shaped light had been in Lance’s sights for a while but he hadn’t ordered it.

“They said it was supposed to be here by today, but it wasn’t, so that’s the proof I did order it. Hoping it’ll be in the mail tomorrow.” Pidge explained, as Lance came over to hug them.

Hunk gave Lance a crystal bracelet and crown from his girlfriend’s, Shay, store. It hadn’t been released to the public, plus as an apology for missing his birthday. There was also a stack of hand made coupons to redeem whenever he wanted Hunk to make his favourite treat. Honestly, Lance could see a good chunk being used in the next few days.

“Aww, it’s so cute!” Lance cooed at the large lion plush Shiro and Allura got him. It was wearing a customized ‘Paladin Lancelot’ t-shirt and even had the pricings Lance’s avatar would have.

“Thank you for making me lose my cuddling partner.” Keith mocked, watching Lance nuzzle the soft fur.

“Don’t be rude. Let’s see if you can earn back your cuddling rights.”

Keith took a deep breath. The only person at the table who even knew what his present was was Hunk, only because he needed to get the size for Lance’s neck. Hunk gave him a supporting look and once the lion was back in his bag, he took Lance’s hand.

“Hey. So we’ve been together how long?” Keith asked

Lanced hummed happily, “3 and a half years? Yeah, 3 and a half.”

“And we’ve made a lot of promises right?”

“Where is this going?” Lance asked, looking confused but not worried.

“Ok, before I freak out, you know I want to marry you but not yet but I want you to know that I do want it eventually.” Keith passed Lance the bag.

Marriage was something he and Keith talked about. It didn’t feel right yet but he was pretty sure Keith was the guy he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He had a pretty good feeling as to what Keith had given him, which made him feel slightly giddy. He opened the jewellery box and started laughing.

“What, what? Come on, I’ve been silent to let you have your moment, what did you get him?” Allura demanded, being nosy as ever. Hunk just had a knowing smile on his face.

“I was gonna get him a promise ring, but I went about it a bit differently.” Keith said, as Lance turned the box around. Sitting in it, was what the group could describe as a betrothal necklace, similar to the ones they’d have in Avatar: The Last Airbender. The choker was blue but the small stone that had a symbol etched into it was red. The symbol was two Vs, the points on top of each other and a line between the spaces. Lance’s grandmother drew the members of the family symbols like Lance’s as their own personal symbol, so the family knew who it was.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Allura said, before Lance could take the necklace out of its box. She wiped out her volgging camera and started filming the other couple. “Lance, please explain Keith’s gift.”

“Ok. Um, so you missed the very heartfelt speech Keith gave basically saying how he really wants to marry me sometime in the future and he said he’s giving me a promise ring. I don’t care how high school that sounds, this sort of stuff makes me melt and I love it. Thing is, he went a bit differently and instead of a ring, he got me a necklace. Keith, want to explain the necklace?”

“If you know Avatar, then you know that Zuko and Katara did not get a long at first. Pidge likes to say that we had their relationship, minus the whole betrayal thing. We didn’t get a long when we first met but that changed and we got close then he asked me out. Funnily enough, apparently Zuko and Katara were supposed to be end game but that didn’t happen. Pidge also likes to say we lived the Zutara version. So instead of a ring, I gave Lance a promise betrothal necklace I guess. I got the idea one day and I asked Hunk and he said to do it.”

“Hunk! And you never said anything?” Allura said, as Hunk was dying in a fit of giggles.

Lance handed the box to Keith and let him put the necklace on him. It was perfect and he loved it and it fit them so well.

“Cheers to the promised couple,” Coran cheered. As their friends cheered for them, Lance partially hid his face in Keith’s neck, who pressed a kiss to his forehead. Lance was sure of something, this was the best birthday ever.

“So amazing birthday right?” Keith asked when they were back at home and in bed, ending his vlog.

Lance nodded, his fingers mindlessly playing with the necklace. It didn’t feel uncomfortable to wear to bed and he didn’t want to take it off. He knew it wasn’t an engagement but the thought that Keith wanted it enough to promise made him feel utterly giddy.

“This was without a doubt, the best birthday ever. Everything today was amazing and I never want it to end, but it has to.”

“Why?”

“If it never ends, you’ll never actually fulfil your promise.” Lance teased.

“And I really have to keep that one.” Keith said, pressing a kiss to Lance’s cheek. “So we didn’t film a lot, so we’ll post a team Voltron video soon.”

“Thank you everyone for the birthday wishes, I loved getting them.”

The two said their goodnights and once the camera was on the side table, Keith turned in bed so he could face Lance.

“And thank you for honestly the best birthday ever. I enjoyed every minute of it.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Keith said, pressing a kiss to Lance’s lips. “I just hope I can make next year just as great.”

“Oh, I know you will.” Lance said, snuggling close to his boyfriend, letting his warmth send him off to sleep.

#happy birthday lance #Lance #klance #youtuber au

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roraewrites · 7 years

Text

new beginnings

Rating: T Returning Home “And when we leave this life, I’m not scared of losing you. We were born two stars in the same orbit, now here as two bodies recognizing each other once again, and I don’t know what’s next.”

- previous chapter -

"Sasuke! You're going to be late!" Mikoto's voice echoed through their hallways, sounding muffled once Sasuke heard her for the third time that morning.

Once he tightened his headband and brushed his uniform off - just to be sure that he looked up to par - he exited his room and walked with perfect posture until he entered the kitchen.

Mikoto's breakfast was simple, Sasuke noted, as he took his seat at the table and began to dig in.

"Ah, dear. You look wonderful. I can't believe you've finally made it into the police force. Your father is thrilled," she cooed, her black hair spilling over her shoulders as the water ran from the faucet.

Sasuke couldn't help but flash a quick smile as he washed his food down with a gulp of water. As he finished his breakfast, his mother was already grabbing his dishes from his hands and tossing them in the sink. From there, they'd sit in the bubbly water and rinse while Mikoto cleaned the rest from the table off.

"Has Itachi been through yet?" Sasuke asked, his mind focusing on whether or not he was going to be late.

His mother's silence was all he needed to know. Itachi, in fact, had not returned home from his mission yet.

"Shisui is outside," she spoke instead as her dark eyes positioned themselves to glance out the window.

Sasuke only nodded before hugging her from behind. She always smelled fresh and crisp like the morning dew, and when he released her, his mother smiled a warm smile his way.

"Have a good first day. And please, listen to Shisui and stay out of trouble," Mikoto ordered before ruffling his hair slightly.

Sasuke swatted her hand away playfully before smirking slightly, "yeah, yeah."

"I was growing worried," Shisui joked as Sasuke jogged out of his family's house.

From there, both of the Uchiha were dressed in familiar uniforms consisting of vests - although Shisui's was different due to his higher rank - along with their shirts, pants, sandals, and the Konoha Military Police Force insignia.

"Before we go," Shisui grasped Sasuke's arm, "here." In his hand was the symbolic arm band that would go around their bicep.

Sasuke smirked, his onyx eyes lighting up as he slipped it over his arm and adjusted it until it fit comfortably.

"I meant to hand it over when you got your uniform, but it totally slipped my mind," the older Uchiha grinned, sliding his arm across Sasuke's shoulders before directing him towards the building.

Their walk would be short lived, but since Shisui had information to pass on, he walked Sasuke the long way through town. He informed him of their agenda for the day, main spots and locations throughout the village, and some inside intel. While he didn't go into detail, Sasuke nodded and followed along with ease.

"Your training went well, actually," Shisui mentioned as they stopped in front of the station.

It was mid March, the weather still slightly chilly while the leaves began to regain their color and bloom to their full potential. When he first departed for training camp, he was only fifteen, nearly sixteen. Fugaku had argued that Sasuke still had maturing to do, still needed to understand the order of how things went in the shinobi world, but Itachi and Shisui argued his case.

Now he was seventeen, turning eighteen in July and a full blown member of the police force. His training had taught him patience, how to maneuver through stressful situations, polished up his ninjutsu, and even made damn sure that he could be trustworthy.

Inside was much different than Sasuke had expected. It was clean, natural light shining in through the windows while the front desk was kept in an organized manner.

"Captain," multiple men stood at the front, they arms placed in a solute as Shisui made his way on by, Sasuke following closely behind.

He knew how things were ran here. His father, Fugaku Uchiha, placed in charge and ran the institute while Shisui had been placed as one of captains. While they had more room for another captain or two, Fugaku had made his mind up to keep it plain and simple.

Too many idiots in charge would run this place into the ground, as he had explained before.

"This is your locker," his captain pointed out with a warm smile.

It was plain and simple, painted in a neutral blue with the insignia painted directly in the center. Upon opening it, it smelled like disinfectant and sparkled once the light hit the metal.

"That's strong," Sasuke waved his hand in front of his nose, discarding the overwhelming scent.

"We like to keep it as clean as possible."

"I see that," the younger Uchiha's monotone voice sounded throughout the room, echoing off the walls.

"Anyways, moving on. You'll meet the rest of our squad. Most days you'll be with me, other days you'll be with your father. While he doesn't go out much anymore," Shisui rolled his eyes, "it'll just be with this main group of men, along with a few others who currently have the day off. But even while on your days off, you'll be on call. Like I said last year, it's a demanding job and that's why we made sure that this was something you wanted to pursue."

Sasuke nodded his agreement, remembering just how set he had his mind on his choice.

Shisui led his way through the locker room, through the door and down the hall. Again, natural light flooded through the windows of the large room, bouncing off the floors and reflecting into his eyes. Minimal decorations hung on the walls, but as Sasuke continued following behind his captain, he noted that the back room looked a lot more bland than the previous room.

Multiple men stood around, or sat in the uncomfortable looking chairs while others loitered with a drink in hand. Sasuke assumed it was coffee or tea, potentially water as well.

"Captain!" They saluted, readying their positions as Shisui rolled in.

Sasuke's obsidian eyes watched as four of the men stood ready, the others casually standing from their seats and acknowledging the two of them.

"We don't have much on our list for today, except for patrolling the streets. Like usual, I'll take my group with me," his eyes looked to the four men who stood ready, even Sasuke. "The rest of you disperse with your section leaders. Don't make hasty or unreasonable decisions if you know it'll reflect poorly upon the group as a whole. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," they sounded in unison, rather bored-like.

"I said, do I make myself clear?!"

A thunderous boom of a response echoed, making Shisui's eyes glimmer with satisfaction. "That's better. Dismissed."

Sasuke's first day was rather boring. While the sun poked through the clouds, basking his group in a blanket of golden light, nothing interesting happened. The streets remained peaceful and rather quiet.

"They're normally like this during the season," one of the men to Sasuke's left pointed out.

The man's name was Inabi, his eyes always looked exhausted, and his eyebrows set in a downright position. He looked pissed off almost all the time, but when push came to shove, he was rather nice.

"The streets are, if I wasn't clear enough," he spoke once more.

Sasuke only eyed him, nodding his head before turning back to walk towards Shisui. Their captain insisted that some men remain on the streets, while others took to the rooftops. It wasn't always that their group would take to the roofs, mainly because their footsteps would disrupt citizens, but Shisui insisted.

"It's just too quiet," he argued, his tone low while his eyes wandered the streets.

While Sasuke agreed, nothing happened. Even when he looked from the rooftops, still, nothing happened.

The sun remained hidden behind the clouds while it began to set, lowering the temperature as it fell lower behind the mountains. His first day on the job was boring and bland, but he learned the ropes and got acquainted with some of his squad members. Inabi being the one he socialized with most (other than Shisui), he didn't really talk to anyone else.

"Say, do you still talk to any of those kids from the academy?" Shisui asked once they returned to the station.

He had caught Sasuke off guard, resulting in a raised eyebrow and emotionless look from the younger Uchiha.

"Not really, no," he replied.

Memories of learning the basics of ninjutsu, genjutsu and taijutsu came rushing back, along with shuriken practice and lonely lunches. Sasuke hadn't ever felt a need to socialize with the other kids, knowing that he didn't want to go on missions with other genin (once they would all become genin). Instead, he would join the police force and follow in his father's footsteps, mainly aiming to please the man.

"I remember Itachi mentioning a blonde kid. Said you two were always squaring up, fighting and what not," Shisui sneered as he removed his arm band and folded it with delicate fingers.

"Naruto Uzumaki," Sasuke recalled while he rolled his eyes. "He's an idiot, a loud mouth too."

Memories of his loudmouthed, hyper active classmate entered his mind, reminding him just how annoying all the other kids had been. It wasn't his fault his parents placed him in the academy. Sasuke always thought himself better than those misbehaved brats. None of them had the skills that the Uchiha clan obtained, resulting in Sasuke pulling out ahead of them all - especially Naruto.

"Would you ever consider going back to being a pawn of the Hokage? Rather than being here, patrolling and bringing peace to the village?"

His questions seemed out of nowhere, confusing him slightly as he put his vest away.

"You mean, going on missions that would've been assigned to me?" Sasuke corrected, his casual smirk placed on his face.

He got a snort from Shisui as he nodded his head, "smart ass. Yeah, that's what I meant. Regardless, you could get pulled from the station and sent on a mission if they really needed you."

"And why would they want me of all shinobi? I'm a mere one in a million," Sasuke retorted. This conversation was meaningless, and they were getting nowhere. Why did Shisui want to know exactly what Sasuke was thinking?

"I'm just saying. In the passing of the Third Hokage, you never quite know what the Fifth Hokage could be up to. Hell, for all we know, she could shut this institute down and blame it on not having enough money to fund it."

"What're you getting at exactly?" Sasuke asked, his mind set to fire while he glanced at Shisui from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm just trying to ask, do you have a back up plan? Just in case?"

A back up plan? Why in the hell would I need a back up plan?

"No," his answer was plain and simple.

Sasuke Uchiha had worked his ass off the last couple of years. He wouldn't let his training go to nothing, especially if plans had been set in motion to shut the police force down. The thought of it angered him, getting the best of his emotions. When he shut his locker, Shisui was no longer in the room. It was only Sasuke and his thoughts now, accompanied by the annoying buzz of the lights overhead.

As he signed his sheet and filled out his report for the day, Sasuke placed his pen back in the cup on the table and began his walk out of the back room. He filed his folder in the correct cabinet and made way towards the front of the building. He waved his good byes, and when he exited through the doors, the refreshing breeze that carried in on the night welcomed him.

Shisui's questioning remained in his head, bugging and nagging him as Sasuke made his way home. It was now seven at night, the clouds covering the stars that twinkled overhead slightly.

"Yes, thank you for everything."

That voice sounded familiar, even with how distant it was. Sasuke stopped in place, his ears tuning in to the voice, making it clear that he wasn't just imagining things. The streets were rather bare, lit up with very few lamps as he began walking again, his sandals dragging along behind him.

"Why would I need a-"

His voice trailed off while his eyes looked up. Ahead of him, he saw a figure exiting his house while her foot falls sounded quietly. She passed by him, her presence calming while her hair swayed with each step.

Sasuke found his eyes watching her until he wasn't able to see her from the corner of his eye anymore. Her hair was unnaturally colored, her eyes reflecting a green tint as she pushed by. She looked familiar, felt familiar. Everything about her screamed and called out to him, but as Sasuke turned back to his house, he could see Mikoto standing in the doorway.

"Sasuke! Hello, dear," she chirped warmly as he stepped through the gate and walked down the stone walkway.

"How was your first day?"

"Boring," he mumbled, his mind still lost in thought.

"Don't sound so enthused," Mikoto joked, kicking his sandals to the side as she followed him through the front room.

"There's a bowl of rice, along with some tomatoes in the kitchen for you. Just put your dishes in the sink when you're done and join me in the back, please."

"Why? What's going on?" Sasuke questioned, his paranoia picking up on something that had gone bad.

"Just focus on getting some food in your stomach, dear."

His mother's tone was no longer warm and friendly, but low and icy. Sasuke swallowed before entering the kitchen and grabbed his dinner from the counter. The porcelain bowl radiated little heat as he shoveled bite after bite in his mouth. She had placed the sliced up tomato on top, leaving him to pluck the remainder of his dinner from the bottom of his bowl.

Once finished, he placed the dishes in the sink and ran to the back. His mother sat on the porch, perched outside of Itachi's room and when Sasuke saw the lights flickering in his brother's room, he felt his heart clutch.

"He's home," he muttered quietly to himself, booking it across the deck with worry flowing through his veins.

"Stop right there," Mikoto was planted in front of him, her hands catching his arms. "Be quiet."

Sasuke gulped, feeling the food in his stomach churning slowly and causing him to feel sick to his stomach. Once he nodded, his mother released his arms and pulled the wooden door open slowly. Inside of the dimly lit room was Itachi's body, his chest rising and falling slowly - the younger Uchiha felt a breath of relief exhale lowly.

"Sasuke?" Itachi's hoarse voice plucked him from his thoughts as he entered the room.

His footfalls were hardly audible as he knelt down by Itachi's form, his hand resting lightly on Itachi's.

"What happened?" He asked quietly, making sure to listen to Mikoto's warning.

"I'll explain tomorrow, but for now, everything is okay. I just wanted to see you before I slept for the night," Itachi's eyes opened, reveiling the traditional black orbs of the Uchiha clan. "How was your first day?"

Sasuke readjusted his knees, bringing his other down to the wooden floor and relaxing slightly. "It was slow. I'm a part of Shisui's squad, so we patrolled today. Nothing interesting happened, though."

"Ah," he wheezed, a soft smile coming to rest on his face. "You're in good hands then."

Sasuke scoffed before smirking. He had missed his brother dearly. It had been two years since he had seen him, and when Sasuke had finally returned from his training, Itachi had been sent out on a mission. An S-Rank to be exact.

While it was tradition for the Uchiha clan to join the police force, Itachi had been recruited to the Anbu level at a young age. From there, he joined the shinobi that served Konoha from the shadows, ensuring a safe life for all of them.

"You've grown quite a bit, haven't you?" Itachi's voice was now tired, his eyelids closing gently.

"A little," Sasuke felt his cheeks heat up. "You should get some rest."

"I will."

Sasuke nodded before patting his brother's hand gently. His skin was cold, but as Sasuke pushed up from his place on the floor, Itachi's hand was attached to Sasuke's arm like a clamp.

"Before you go, little brother," Itachi's eyes opened once more and hardened over. "Do you feel it?"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, confused by Itachi's question. It was apparent that his brother was tired and he needed his rest. What was Sasuke suppose to feel, exactly? He shook his head from side to side, confused by the question.

"Ah, another time then."

He released Sasuke's hand and turned his face, letting his eye lids close and turn to sleep. Sasuke stayed a minute longer, in shock at what Itachi had just asked him. Not only did Sasuke have a boring first day of work, but became overwhelmed by confusing emotions earlier, and now his older brother was asking odd questions.

Sasuke sighed on the inside, setting his mind on a hot shower and a night of sleep. Those always seemed to work, as they cleared his worries and unsure emotions.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

He was awake before the sun even lit up the sky.

Too many questions, too many thoughts. Sasuke was an overthinker, and a damn good one at that. From the time he had graduated from the academy, his life became nothing but a whirlwind of anxiety and stress. While he was great at covering it up and making it look like nothing, it was during the hours of sleep, that his internal struggles ate away at him.

Sasuke would dream sometimes, allowing his body to break free from reality and flee to a world made up by his mind. Sometimes he would dream of a woman with beautiful, silk hair that would waterfall down her back. Her robes would hug the curves of her body, while her smile was always contagious. In his dreams, he felt happy and warm, consumed in a blanket of comfort as he looked at this woman. While this dream always occurred in black and white, he could tell that this woman had amazing eyes, especially when she would look into his and offer a kind smile.

Other nights, he would dreams of dark clouds that drained themselves of rain, spreading lightning across the land and filling the air with thunder. There, he would experience eyes filled with anger, and bodies hunched over with hatred. He always felt uncomfortable, his chest filled with pain while his throat always felt constricted. Sasuke could never talk during this dream, no matter how hard he tried. Sometimes he would try to scream, but to no avail.

His outfit coated his body, his headband hugging his forehead as Sasuke sat at the kitchen table. His fingers stretched out and around a cool glass of water, while his eyes watched the sun rise from behind the mountains. From the kitchen, he could hear his mother's footsteps growing louder, and when she entered the room, her squeal of shock made him jump.

"Why are you up this early?" She asked, her dark orbs eyeing him with suspicion.

"Couldn't sleep," Sasuke shot back while his hand lifted the glass to his lips.

"Did you try making some tea?"

"No."

"Well it won't do you any good right now. I'll get breakfast started, considering the medic will be here soon," Mikoto ran her slender fingers through his obsidian locks, eyes filled with concern.

"Are you sure everything is okay, Sasuke? You seem to have been in an off mood the second you got home last night."

Sasuke looked at his mother, his brows furrowed slightly while he chewed on her question. Had he really been acting strange since the moment he got home? Did Shisui's questions really concern him that much? And who was that girl he saw leaving his house? Was that the medic his mother just mentioned? Why did Itachi-

Sasuke stopped himself, backtracking to Mikoto's question.

"It was just a long first day for me. Nothing a little adjusting can fix," Sasuke lied. He hated when his mother grew concerned for him, looked at him with weary eyes while she tried to read his mood. Nine times out of ten, she always pinpointed exactly how he was feeling, except for today. Today, she was wrong.

"I can't stick around, I've got to go meet Shisui. I'll see you when I'm home," Sasuke poured the remainder of his drink in the sink and smiled a soft smile to his mother. Before he could exit the room, her small hands grabbed him by the shoulders.

"I love you, Sasuke."

His throat tightened up, causing his body to tense as she looked into his eyes with her own. Her lips pulled into a firm line, her eyes hardening over with a serious look. It had been two years since Mikoto had said those words, and now that he was looking down on her instead of up, he couldn't help but feel sadness well up in his chest.

"I've got to go," he slipped out of her embrace and made way for the door.

He hated feeling exposed, put in an odd situation like that. But then again, Mikoto was his mother and there wasn't a day that went by that he never thought about her. Once his sandals were slipped on over his feet and he opened the door, he was met by the same woman that he had seen last night.

"Uh, hello?"

Her voice was pure, with a sing song rhythm to it as she smiled a soft smile. Her green eyes glimmered in the faint sunlight while the ends of her hair kissed the tops of her shoulders.

Sasuke was caught in a dead silence. He didn't know what to say, what to think, or how to address this situation. As the woman pulled her balled hand back, she swayed to the side slightly.

"Is Mikoto Uchiha in?"

"Yes," Sasuke answered, still unsure of what to do. "I take it you're the medic?"

"Yep, that's me."

An awkward tension began to loom over them, yet Sasuke didn't feel any of it affect him. He felt an odd, familiar sensation instead. Rather than inviting her in, Sasuke stared into her eyes, hypnotized by the evergreen irises that resided there.

"Well, I've got to go," Sasuke cleared his throat before pushing by her.

He left her to stand in shock, watching him take off down the road while she remained standing outside of the open door.

He'd be late to work now, thanks to her. Sasuke hadn't meant to take off in such a hurry, but now that he was entering the station, he just noticed he hadn't invited her in, nor told his mother that she was there. An instant flash of heat overtook his body and while his cheeks felt like flames had kissed them, his ears burned. He should've invited her in, notified his mother that the medic was there, or at least shown some sort of communication.

He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and bit into the apple that he had grabbed on the way in.

"Alright boys," Shisui's voice echoed throughout the room. "Let's head out for the day."

- next chapter -

#ronan rae #sasusaku #ss fanfiction #sasusaku fanfiction #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #writing #potm

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