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heartsteel-heartbeats · 6 months

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Heartsteel Kayn relationship HCs!

No warnings for this one, you may proceed.

(( Psst! Hey! It’s not explicitly listed that you are also a performer, but you are free to assume that! I like leaving stuff open for ya. Also I may have gone a bit overboard… Sorry! )) ~ OBBY 💗

Before Heartsteel

You’ve been with him before he was kicked out of his old band (maybe even well before he started his music career), so of course, Rhaast was no secret to you. He never was, really. You actually liked Rhaast and loved seeing him just go crazy and do what he wanted without much of a care of the consequences. Kayn figured this is why he was initially drawn to you, because you accepted this part of him.

His band was pretty much the opposite. They held him back extensively because of Rhaast. The situation itself and seeing him lash out time to time made you worried on how much more he could stand being with that group. Some days, you just let him rant to you. You don’t know much on the other members in general besides their names and their roles in the band, but seeing him so frustrated because of them felt like maybe it’s best if you didn’t.

When Kayn did get kicked out, you let him stay around for a bit. A bit eventually became a while. Totally weren’t preparing for this, you made sure there was plenty of room for him. An artist needs his own space after all, though he didn’t exactly pick up his guitar for some time.

It’s been rough for Kayn for a while. He was getting easily irritated over the smallest things and seemed to often get into fights online. You’ve had to keep him off social media more than once before he really made things worse for himself. His reputation has taken quite a hit when he was kicked out, so this was for the best if it means he doesn’t damage further by doing something stupid.

Rhaast, on the other hand, was a bit harder. Rhaast liked to leave a mark, mostly in a physical sense. There were times where you had to stop him from actually getting into serious trouble. It was hard to talk him out of it and sometimes you had to keep him from walking out that door. Doing such a thing did make you feel bad since you’re holding him back almost like his old band did with him, so there were times where you hesitated. Don’t get him wrong though, he knows you’re just worried about his wellbeing.

When he finally did pick up his guitar again, the songs he made were quite clearly targeted towards his old band. Rhaast was going all out and you encouraged that. Of course, these songs never went public for obvious reasons (though Rhaast almost argued with you to upload them somewhere). Hearing songs like these from him were really the one and only times where you can hear just how truly angry he was. Still, you were glad he was letting it out in a way that felt natural to him. Artists letting out their frustrations through songs weren’t uncommon, and most of the ones out there needed to have their listeners read between the lines to understand and see the artist. But you? You didn’t have to. It was all right there in front of you.

Approaching Kayn on the topic itself is rather difficult as he tends to get defensive and dismissive over it, so really, the best you could do was get his mind off of it for a little while. Anything works as long as he was doing something, anything. It didn’t matter what it was.

It’d take quite some time for him to actually come to you for comfort on the matter. When he does though, it was a huge weight off of both of your shoulders. It basically just happened one night, and it was one of those nights for him where his thoughts were keeping him awake. He can’t sleep, you can’t sleep either, so you two just kind of talked for a bit to tire each other out. Eventually, the topic shifts and you can feel his hold on you tighten ever so slightly.

Kayn almost never showed a vulnerable side of him, especially around you. He had his own reasons for that. On the rare occasion that he does, know that it means he trusts you more than anything.

He is happy that you stayed and helped him as long as you did (both being his muse and just supporting him). He makes you aware of it during that night and he does continue to show his appreciation in his own way, whether it’s simply some quality time or even writing a song for you.

Things did eventually calm down and Kayn was beginning to just enjoy doing what he wanted to do again just for the fun of it rather than out of spite. As long as he’s happier now. There’s nothing else to say about his old band.

General stuff between you two

Teasing. So much teasing… He loves your flustered and/or slightly annoyed look when he does it. He finds it adorable.

Kayn can drive but for the love of god never actually let him drive. The chances of getting pulled over and arrested for reckless driving is really high up there. Just let him be in charge of the music, he’ll at least he satisfied with that.

You two still text each other on Discord even if you’re in the same room. He just likes hearing you laugh over what he sends. This does include videos he finds online that he thinks (knows) you’ll laugh to.

Matching hair color! It’s fun, a pain in the ass to get done, but fun. There was a bit of a mess in the bathroom though, and that wasn’t fun to clean.

“Hah! It looks like a murder took place in here!” “I murdered your hair, that’s for sure.” “What?! Are you kidding me? This isn’t the first time you did my hair! It’s perfect!” “Well yeah, but your long hair is gone… I really loved your long hair…” “I mean- It’ll grow back eventually.”

Lunch and dinner sometimes include ordering some food and having it delivered, then eating it in your shared room. Is it healthy food? No, but hey, at least you’re both eating food. If it wasn’t that, then one of you was cooking. Kayn’s cooking is not that bad, but it could be better. Don’t say that though.

Doing each other’s makeup. Although, it started with you wanting to do his and him saying he’ll let you do it if you let him do yours. Now it’s routine.

Playing with his hair. Loves it when you do it. Just him laying his head beside you, or on your chest, with your hands running through his hair. It calms him down and makes him sleepy sometimes. He’ll deny it though.

“Sleepy?” “No.” *literally about to fall asleep* “Sureee.” “Shut up.”

Though there are some nights where one of you can’t fall asleep no matter what you do. Whether it’s insomnia or the other just won’t shut the fuck up (Kayn), at least one of you is still awake. If you feel someone brushing your hair in the middle of the night and giving small pecks, it’s totally not Kayn.

Heartsteel

When Heartsteel found one of his songs and sent him a message, you were okay with him eventually moving in with the group. Kayn has been talking about them for some time, and you think this might be good for him. From what he’s been telling you, these people accept Rhaast. Totally not the one reason why you were okay with it in the first place.

He often texts you about what’s going on and teases you by asking if you miss him. Say no. :) Sometimes complains to you about Yone, but it’s just him being assigned a chore (dish duty).

It does get a bit lonely sometimes now, but he’s happy to be around a group of people that doesn’t push Rhaast away so it doesn’t bother you. Kayn does make up for it by calling you and sometimes dropping by. The second one isn’t often though. Again, gotta keep fans and paparazzi from finding out about your relationship. Although speaking of calls, there were times where you two fell asleep while on call. It usually ends with one of your phones running out of battery.

The group seems to know about you. Yone and Sett has heard of you once or twice, but K’Sante is the one that knows about you the most. According to K’Sante, Kayn talks about you a lot. Ezreal only knows about you cause he got a peak at his phone and saw your name thanks to one of your over night phone calls and he won’t stop asking Kayn about you.

“Dude who’s [name]??? Is that who you’re always talking to all night?” “The hell are you looking in my phone for??!”

Ahem… Kayn did get some relationship advice from K’Sante. Honestly this is exactly why he knows a lot about you from him.

Aphelios only knows about you because of Sett, who then tells Alune.

Kayn tried to keep the music video of Paranoia on the down low so it could surprise you, but he needed to tell you about the dog the moment they picked him up. With that aside, seeing the music video definitely put a smile on your face. He looked like he was having a lot of fun with the new band (you totally saw the Discord calls Aphelios leaked).

#RAAHHHHH I TRIED MY BEST WITH RHAAST HERE #I HOPE ITS GOOD #this went through so much editing and rewriting im gonna cry #obby’s scripts!#kayn x reader #heartsteel #heartsteel kayn #league of legends kayn #shieda kayn #lol kayn #league of legends headcanons #league of legends x reader

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totheblood · 9 months

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massive clinger n possessive ellie headcannons!!

havent done headcanons in a hot minute... if i'm rusty i apologize.. ai audios at the end!

clingy!ellie headcanons

clingy!ellie, who just wants to do everything with her girlfriend, so much so that she sometimes can't have fun if you're not around

ellie, who has resting bitch face until you show up, and then she's smiling from ear to ear when you appear, drawing you in for a hug

"c'mere, i missed you," she sighs into the side of your neck as she holds your body firmly against hers

"i was gone for five minutes, ellie," you remind her

"still too long," and she's nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck, pressing small pecks into the indentation of your skin causing you to groan

ellie, who literally walks with her hand stuffed in your back pocket

“why can’t we just hold hands?” you ask her one day

“this is easier,” she nonchalantly shrugs, “plus i like being close to you… and my hands get cold.”

when the two of you are over at dina’s, she’s pulling you into her lap, pouting as she says: “why are you sitting all the way over there? trying to get away from me?”

she just wants to feel you breathing sometimes… it calms her

so when you sleep together you have to sleep chest to chest, so she can feel the rise and fall of your chest, comforted by your breathing sounds

when she wakes up and you’re not there she groans, dragging her feet into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around your wait from behind

you hum as she presses a gentle kiss to your neck, pulling you closer to her with a sigh

“bed’s too cold without you…come back to bed”

“ellie,” you groan, because you have class in an hour and you want to get there early, but you know she’s gonna win

“just for thirty minutes,” she groans, and then she’s pleading, “pleeaaaseee…”

“ugh, fine,” you turn around to face her, giving her a stern look, “but only for thirty minutes”

“you’re too good to me,” she says right before kissing the tip of your nose

she’s always begging for more time with you, no matter how much time you’ve spent together

spent 3 hours together? what’s 3 more?

24 hours together? there can always be an extra hour you two spend together

and you let her, because even if you don’t admit it, you secretly like it

she always finds the things you have to say interesting, hanging onto the edge of her seat listening to you talk about the most mundane shit like it’s the coolest thing she’s ever heard

she told you once: “anything that comes out of your mouth is so interesting to me. you could make sleeping sound interesting, or maybe i’m just crazy and in love with you.”

“crazy in love with me?”

“no crazy and in love with you…”

when you have to spend time away from her back home she’s pacing her room, unsure of what to do with herself

it’s late at night and she wants to tell you goodnight and talk about how your day went, but she doesn’t want to be annoying

she decides fuck it, she’d rather hear your voice than go to bed angry

so she’s biting her fingernails as she calls you up, heartrate quickening every ring you don’t answer

but then you do and she’s taking a big sigh of relief

“i’m sorry for calling so late at night… i needed to hear your voice…”

she knows she’s borderline possessive… okay she’s pretty possessive… but she can’t help

she makes it a point to use “my girl” as frequently as she can

“me and my girl are going to see barbie on opening night.”

“my girl is so fucking funny, you have no idea”

or the “you’re so pretty, my pretty girl”

it also becomes a problem when she finds herself convincing herself that everyone who meets you, wants you

because how could someone know you and not love you?

so she comes off as stand-offish around your friends, dissecting every behavior they do towards you and trying to convince you they are in love with you

“ellie, she just offered me a ride home…”

“yeah, sure… it starts with a ride home, but before you know it she’s begging to eat you out”

“ellie, oh my go-”

“hey, i know what it’s like to have a crush on you. i know when other people are crushing on my girl.”

you have to admit it does help your ego

possessive ellie who can never leave your side at a party, grip tightening when she sees some jack ass staring at you

when her fingers dig into your side you turn to look at her, a worried look on your face when you notice her tense jaw and eyes trained on some guy

“you’re okay?” you tentatively ask, causing her green eyes to flick to you

“yea, dude’s got a staring problem…” she says casually, rolling her eyes

deciding you want to calm her down, you kiss her cheek..

“i love how you look out for me, els,” you smile, causing her cheeks to redden as her gaze softens

“i just- i can’t stand how they’re looking at you…”

“i know, baby,” you coo as you rub her shoulder, “but i’m yours and yours only, you know this.”

this causes her to physically relax. you can see how her whole body just gives into your touch

“you’re all mine,” she smiles, tight lip leaning into properly kiss you

#Anonymous #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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hughesurdaddy43 · 3 months

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Come over

Summary: I'm setting off. But not without my muse

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem reader

Note: IM sorry guys this one is actually so long so I cut it in half so the next part Ill post tomorrow & its gonna kill you

It's been three days since you've last seen Quinn. 72 hours since the two of you shared a kiss. 259,200 seconds of you replaying that moment in your head, over and over again.

Quinn had already left for his away game, and not seeing him in person again after he single handedly took your breath away was driving you crazy.

You sit on your couch, having yet another lazy day after opting out of going into your office today. Your mind is too much in a daze to deal with annoying coworkers who are a little too interested in your friendship with the famous hockey player. With your computer in your lap, you try and focus on an email from your boss that has gone unread for the last four days, and as soon as you start reading the first line, your phone starts to ring.

Quinns name flashes on the screen and you don't hesitate to toss your computer to the side and answer your FaceTime call. He flashes a smile as soon as the call connects. It's dim where he is, and you soon realize that he's on the bus. His under eyes are dark, and his beard is a little more scruffy than usual, but that doesn't stop you from thinking he's still the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on .

"Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?" You ask Quinn, raising your eyebrow at him. It's a mom kind of question, one that you know Ellen would ask if she had seen him awake this late at night after he had played, and won a game.

"Couldn’t sleep," He tells you, and you know it's a lie. His poker face never worked on you. You roll your eyes at him letting him continue. "I actually wanted to ask you something."

Your heart does a backflip, which seems like the only thing it's been doing lately.

"Go for it." You tell him.

Before Quinn responds, you watch as he pulls his headphones off and look off in the distance. He's talking to someone on the other side of the phone, so you take another moment to admire him. The way he listens intently to whoever it is he's talking to you, how his eyes don't look away until he's finished talking.

He makes it easy for you to remember all the reasons you fell in love with him.

"What are you doing right now?" He asks once his attention is back on you. You let out a laugh, pulling your phone closer to your face. "I'm waiting for that question you wanted to ask me." You say in a 'duh' tone.

Quinn laughs, following your own actions and pulling his phone closer to his face. You can't help but stare at his lips, reminiscing how they felt against your own.

"Oh yeah, I'm flying you out to Jersey. To watch me and my brothers play. Well," He pauses, "Just Luke actually, Jack's out with an injury, but mom and Luke would love for you to be there."

"That wasn't a question, Quinn. And what about Jim?" You tease, and Quinn smiles again. "Jim is Jim. So, you'll be there?"

You shrug your shoulders, looking over at your computer that still has the email from your boss on the screen.

"I already bought the flight and the hotel, and it's" Another pause, "10:45 right now. Your flight is tomorrow at 9 in the morning, and you'll get to Jersey some time in the evening. I have a driver picking you up." A final pause, Quinn catches his breath. "It's all taken care of." He says softly.

It's times like this, where you remember Quinn has money. Where he's willing to spend a lot of money for you to be anywhere with him, but with the sweet gesture comes curiosity and you can't help but wonder if he's done things like this for her.

A part of you wants to tell him no. You have your own life in Vancouver. Your job, half-assed plans that you'd already made with your friends, you can't always drop everything for Quinn. But he knows you better than he knows hockey. He knows you'll be there.

"I guess I should start packing then, yeah?" His smile grows wider, "Will you text me when you're boarding?" He asks, and you nod your head 'yes'

The both of you stare at each other through your screens. Silently admiring each other. Secretly acknowledging how easy it is for you two to be together.

Once you hang up, you immediately run to your closet. Most of the items hanging up are Quinns. Hoodies, t-shirts, old jersey and even a couple of suits that he's left after late nights and early mornings. "What's mine is his" You think to yourself. You start throwing in a mix of yours and his clothes.

New Jersey is a cold state, something you'd learned the hard way after a failed trip a few years ago. You'd insisted that you didn't need to bring a winter coat on your trip because you already live in a cold climate, you were used to the cold. Quinn reminded you how you were always cold, and that you'd definitely needed to bring your coat, but like a stubborn child, you'd ignored him. "I'll be fine," You had told him, and instead of arguing, he let you figure it out on your own.

You stare at the winter coat hanging up. The winter coat Quinn had ended up buying you because he had gotten tired of you stealing his.

And it's almost like he's listening to your thoughts, sharing your memory even though he's thousands of miles away, because once your phone dings and you look down at your home screen, you see Quinn has reminded you to make sure to bring your winter coat.

#hockey boys #quinn hughes #hughes brothers #hockey blurb #nhl fic #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes #jack hughes #nhl

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

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Sweet Jane

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: this actually ripped my heart out and made me realize why I don’t write angst

Summary: “If I have children, I hope they live quiet lives. No fires for them. No sickness. No breaking news stories. I hope they die of old age, far from the pages of history books.” - oh, to live unremarkably by Trista Mateer [2.3k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, talks of child loss (reader has lost a child) teen pregnancy, tumultuous parent/child relationships, references to a sexual relationship but nothing explicit, reader is a badass because I said so, ANGST

The second you saw her, you knew this was a possibility. You knew it would happen at one point but watched your tongue. You thought it would happen in the middle of a firefight or trying to survive a horde of Infected or some other dangerous situation where you couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth. It doesn't. It happens on a sunny autumn day while walking away from the ravaged Kansas City. She was trying to show off or prove something to Joel when she tried to run forward without warning. It came out as a gasp as you grabbed her backpack and yanked her back before her foot could slip off the ledge of a cliff. Your heart pounded as you gripped her like you were waiting for her to start falling again. She mumbled a quick sorry before you let her go. She didn't try to run forward again after that.

She waits longer than you expected to ask about it. After you set up camp for the night and cook whatever Joel decided, Ellie looks at you and asks, "who's Jane?" Joel's brows furrow at the question, and your chest tightens. “You called me Jane earlier."

"Jane's my daughter." You catch yourself using the present tense, and grief trickles down your spine like an unpleasant cold shower. Saying that she was your daughter sounds wrong. It's been years now, but you can't make yourself switch. She's still your daughter, even if she's gone. You're still her mom. You'll always be her mom.

"Oh," she gapes, and you nod. You can feel Joel's eyes on you, but you don't look at him. If you do, the words will tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You didn't know." You say, shrugging as if she gave you the wrong directions instead of asking about your kid. She doesn't push the subject anymore, and you eat silently until Ellie crawls into her sleeping bag and falls asleep.

Cicadas' chirps and the fire's crackling fill the space between Joel and you. The stars twinkle as the clouds move in the night sky. It's peaceful. Or it would be, at least, if Joel hadn't been fiddling with his gun for the past twenty minutes. The metal clicking is almost enough to drive you crazy, and you shoot him a look. He freezes and meets your eyes before letting his hands drop.

"Sorry," he says, and you chuckle. He props the gun up next to him and glances around to make sure nothing's decided to sneak close to you.

"I think we're safe," You say.

"For now."

"Joel Miller, ever the optimist."

"It ain't about being optimistic. It's about being smart."

"Right," you shake your head and look at Ellie sleeping in the corner. Her chest rises and falls steadily as she dreams secret dreams. You smile when she snuggles deeper into her sleeping bag and scrunches her nose. "You think she'll be okay?" You ask, meeting his eyes.

"Kids seem to handle these things better."

"Sam was her friend."

"I know." He says. Images of shaky guns, Ellie's screams, and the silence that followed Henry's body hitting the floor replay in your mind in slow motion. You're trying to figure out where it went wrong, when the universe pulled yet another rug out from under you. When you put the two kids to bed, everything was fine, and not even eight hours later, Sam and Henry were dead. How many people will you bury before you get to the Fireflies?

"I'm tired," you admit softly. You can tell by the faraway look in his eyes that he's in his own head, turning things over to look for new details. He's looking for something he missed. "What're you thinking about?" You ask, snapping him out of it, and he shifts uncomfortably.

"You never told me you had a daughter." He finally says, and you nod. You look down at your bootlaces and untie them, so you don't have to look at him.

"It never came up."

"Her name was Jane?" He phrases it like he wasn't listening the first time, but you know he's trying to get you to open up about her.

"Jane Eloise," saying her full name scratches at an unhealed wound deep in your stomach. You think about all the times you shouted those names across the apartment to her. You were always late for school, late for a birthday party, and late for appointments. You're almost positive she would've been late to her own birth if you hadn't been induced. Rushing was the way you lived your life for that decade. You would give anything to be running late with her again. "If I talk about her, I'm gonna cry." You warn.

"That's okay." His voice is so soft, and he's looking at you with those big eyes, and something shifts. You haven't talked about her in years, but something in Joel's demeanor makes you feel safe enough to unlock the door in your brain, holding all her memories.

"I had her when I was sixteen. I was pregnant throughout my sophomore year of high school and had a toddler by the time I went to college. I still don't know how, but I graduated. I was gonna go to med school and start a brand new life, just the two of us. I spent so fucking long studying, but it didn't matter."

"How come I didn't know all this?"

"We agreed to keep our pasts to ourselves when we started," you hesitate—started seeing each other as stress relief and nothing else? Started lying to Tess so you could fuck in alleys in between deals? Started pretending like it meant nothing? "I never thought you'd want to know more than you had to."

"I want to know now," He says like it's the easiest thing in the world. "Did her dad stay around to help you?"

"No, he left the second he got the chance. It was probably for the better, anyway. He was an asshole. I still don't know if he's alive or if he even knows what happened. I don't know if I care enough to find out."

"How old was she when she…" he trails off, the last word dying on his tongue. You swallow around the lump in your throat and take a shaky breath.

"Ten."

"I'm sorry." He says, and you nod. You never knew how to respond to people when they told you they were sorry your kid was dead. You still don't. Nobody tells you about this part in parenting classes.

"We got out on Outbreak Day. Somehow, I kept her alive until I could get her to the QZ nearby. I smuggled there for a few years and made enough money to feed and clothe her. That's better than most people were able to do. I would pick her up from school and walk her home most days but I had a deal with one of my neighbors, Mrs. Carmichael, that if I couldn't pick her up from school, she would. She picked her up a few times, and nothing went wrong. So, when I got caught up in a deal outside the walls one day, I thought it was safe to finish it and be home by dinner," you say, regret washing over you all at once. "Then, Fireflies started dropping bombs. I heard the explosions all the way out there, and I ran back, but it didn't matter. They were both gone."

"When I told my mom I was pregnant, she was furious. She told me that a mother's love is nothing compared to a mother's fury. At least, that was her excuse when she threw me out, but I didn't know if I believed her until that day. After Jane died, I ripped the entire city apart, looking for every single Firefly that had orders to drop bombs that day, and I killed all of them without batting an eye, and it still didn't bring her back. I still woke up every morning and listened for her breathing or the sound of her making cereal in the kitchen. I waited for her to come home every day for years," tears fall from your eyes, and you quickly wipe them away. Joel is clinging to your every word. "I couldn't stay there. My daughter and everyone who could've been responsible for her death was dead, so I came to Boston. Met you and Tess, and that was it."

"That's why you wanted to kill Marlene when we got Ellie." He says, connecting the dots, and you nod.

"I wanted to drop a fucking bomb on her head for what she did. I don't care if that makes me cruel. She killed my kid and called her collateral. Made it seem like she was a part of the cause and not a fucking child just trying to get home from school."

"I get it," he says. You open your mouth to say something about how he could never understand, how nobody ever could, but he beats you to it. "My… Sarah was fourteen," He stumbles over his words. "I wanted to kill the guy who shot her. I didn't care that he was following orders on that day, I wanted him to suffer, but he was already dead."

Joel had a daughter, not much older than yours, and you never talked about either of them. He's one of the only people in the world who can see your pain, the black hole Jane left in you, and show you his matching one. Joel must've been young when he had his daughter, too. Twenty-two, at the very least. How could you have never talked about this?

"What was Sarah like?"

"She was a spitfire and just about the funniest person I've ever known. Smart as hell, too. She was always readin' and telling me everything she learned in school. I never understood half of it, but she loved it," He says, and it's your turn to cling to his every word. His eyes light up as he talks about her. You see now what a good dad he must've been. "Still don't know where she got it from."

"Well, I'd say she got it from her dad. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for." You say, but he shakes his head, refusing the compliment.

"What about Jane? What was she like?" He asks, and you think for a moment. You remember her big brown eyes; how they widened when she was excited about something or glazed over with tears when she was afraid. You remember how her laugh could fill a room. You remember cradling her in your arms when she came into the world and when you found her.

"She was the most beautiful person I've ever met. When she was born, all the nurses would take turns coming into my room to look at her. They couldn't stop telling me how cute she was, and I agreed with them. She was perfect," you smile, remembering how many pictures you took of her tiny face. You had been terrified your entire pregnancy, but the second you saw her, you knew you were meant to be her mom. You felt completely at peace with her, even as young and unprepared as you were.

"She was quiet and curious, but she also had moments where she was loud and careless like kids usually are. I never understood what people meant when they said having kids gave them a whole new idea of what love could be until I had her. She was the best thing that ever happened to me." You say. Joel watches you wipe more tears away before putting his hand on your knee and squeezing. He doesn't say anything, but the look in his eyes tells you everything.

"I wonder if they would've been friends. Our daughters." He thinks aloud.

"I like to think so."

"Me too," he says. He clears his throat, probably trying to bury any emotions this conversation brought up. "She would've loved you."

"You think?" You ask, and he nods.

"You two would've been thick as thieves. Probably conspire against me or somethin'."

"And that's different from now, how?" He laughs at that, and you smile. You put your hand over his and let your thumb trace the contours of his knuckles. Those bruised, scarred, terrifying mountains that have killed and beaten soften under your touch.

You don't say much else for the rest of the night. You just hold his hand and stay awake to protect the girl not much older than your daughters were. The fear, cautious optimism, and sadness that came along with Ellie, that you thought you were alone in feeling doesn't feel as heavy anymore. The black hole Jane left will never be filled, and you will miss her for the rest of your life, but Joel opening up and showing you his similar wound makes you feel less alone.

It makes you wonder if your girls are together somewhere far from all the pain and bloodshed. You wonder if they've secretly conspired to make you two find each other. You wonder what they would think of each other, of the people their parents turned into, of Ellie. It's nice to think they're together, playing silly games while waiting for you.

Not yet, sweet Jane, you think as you look at the stars, and maybe it's a mind trick or exhaustion, but you swear a star winks back at you. Not yet, Mommy, she seems to agree.

💫

#joel and ellie #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #ellie williams #joel miller the last of us #joel miller angst #sarah miller #tlou angst #i wrote this for me but you can read it too i guess #look for the light

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vhagarlovebot · 1 year

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what about a modern!aemond x reader where reader struggles with being a young, single mother. aemond sees this and wants to help out, ends up falling for her.

it all started one evening at the grocery store. it was caos, your son wouldn’t stop crying while you were trying to shop, little arms wrapped around your neck not letting you do anything. on the top of it all. you had one awful day between college and work.

you were in the verge of tears when a hand appeared in front of you, reaching the tomato sauce on the top shelf you were trying to reach for the last ten minutes without any success. and when you turn around to give thanks, you were met with the most dashing man you had ever seen, his smile making you smile too.

“i just couldn’t keep watching you suffer like that.” the stranger had said, giving you a sympathetic smile.

you no longer feel embarrassed, you have gone through a lot of embarrassing moments with your son that now you are just okay with it.

“i don’t know what he wants, i’ve tried everything.” you sighed, trowing the tomato sauce into the shopping cart.

“maybe i can help?” he seemed unsure of it and your red flags immediately went off. “i’m not crazy,” he smiled at you again. “i’m aemond and you seem like you are about to lose it in the middle of the store.”

that was the first time you and aemond went shopping together. while you were preoccupied with the groceries, aemond helped you with your son, making him laugh and forget all about you and his tantrum.

it became a routine. for the next four weeks you met at the grocery store. you started to talk more and really get to know each other. you learned about his family, where he worked at and his hobbies. and he got to know all about you and your son’s life.

until one evening your weekly encounters at the store stopped being just that. he walked you back to your apartment and you invited him to have coffee.

that was when everything really started.

aemond loved spending time with you and your son, his sister having twins really payed off. but what aemond loved the most was your pretty smile when you watched the two of them playing in your living room or cuddling together while watching his favorite cartoon while you studied by the window.

at first, aemond just wanted to help you. he thought it was going to be a one time thing, but then next week came and he found you two trying to choose between three different cereals and he didn’t even notice he was walking towards you until your son screamed his name. since that moment, you didn’t leave his mind.

aemond didn’t meant to fall so hard for you. but the tired smile you give him every time you come home from work or college just to find him with your son asleep in his arms, the way you manage to balance being a mom and one of the top students in every single one of your classes and also having a job, your sleepy head when you open the door in the morning to find him with two cups of coffee and your favorite dessert in hand, the way your laugh fills his heart with warmth, how you care about him, if he’s sleeping well, if he managed to get that big deal he talked to you about a week ago and how grateful you are was just too much. and he’s just a man. and one lucky man he is.

and you can’t blame him, not really. because you were the first to fall. that first time you saw his big blue eyes and how they shined when he looked at your son, how his entire face lighted up when he made him smile, in that moment you knew, you immediately knew, he was not going to leave your mind —and heart— ever again.

and that’s why aemond asked the question.

and that’s why you said yes to spending the rest of your lives together.

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#modern!aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond x reader #hotd x reader #hotd imagine

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allzelemonz · 6 months

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Bruises: Arthur Morgan X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 18, Spanking Pronouns: None Mentioned, masculine implication Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: M/Mild sexual themes Warnings: Mentions of violence and injuries sustained, marking, spanking, bruising, fantasizing, masturbation, anal fingering, cuddling, kissing, aftercare, sex put off in favor of cuddling Summary: Arthur loves being put over your knee and this is the longest you’ve been apart. A/N: This was supposed to be an angst day but Arthur decided he deserves better. I didn’t plan on this being as sweet as it turned out, but here we are. Consider this a tooth rotting warning.

Arthur always has bruises. They litter his body from the many times he’s been shot, hit, generally roughed up, or thrown off his horse. Those bruises, he doesn’t like. However, as he stands in front of the hotel mirror he finds himself frowning at the bruises on his ass having faded. Normally when he looks in the mirror he averts his eyes away, not finding himself all that appealing, but he will check to see if his injuries are healing when he can’t see them. It was only his intention to check on a bullet wound after having his bath, but now he knows why he hasn’t been hurting while he sits.

He’ll have to see you when he gets back to camp.

Of course, he’s impatient, touching himself to memories of bending over your knee while he lies in the plush hotel bed. Spanking was something he asked you to do after realizing how much he liked when you gripped at his ass to spread his cheeks or simply knead the muscle. Ever since then, he gets bent over your knee and spanked black and blue at least once a month. The rough fingering that follows is always nice, and exactly why he’s snaked a hand under himself and now struggles to find that nice spot you always manage to get on the first try.

The days that follow his spankings are always sweet and Arthur loves them about as much as the actual sex. You pamper him to say the least, insisting to the gang that their workhorse is due for a break and they back off to give him a lazy day. You fetch him food and water, Arthur only stands to sneak out of his tent with a limp so he can piss. And if you’re not wrapped up in doing Arthur’s chores for him, you fuck him again, this time gentle.

So when Arthur cums onto the soft sheets, he relaxes and smiles at the thought of the next few days.

Camp is busy, bustling even. Arthur hitches his horse and realizes why, the weather is actually nice for once. People are easily going about with their chores, everyone seems in a good mood. But Arthur’s falls when he speaks to Dutch.

“He’s out on a job with Micah, got a stagecoach route they’re spending a few days on.”

Arthur laggingly does his chores, giving half-hearted smiles to people that say hello. It has been a week since he’s seen you, the longest he’s gone without. And ever since you started sharing his little cot, Arthur has found it difficult to even sleep without you. Not to mention, he never likes when you pair up with Micah for jobs. Every time he goes out himself with the crazy bastard, he nearly gets shot, so it makes him worry for you. Not to mention the need, but that hardly matters when Arthur just wants to see you.

He spends the first night lying in his cot for a few hours, eventually deciding to grasp at the picture of the two of you he managed to get developed. He stares at it for a moment, his eyes looking over your somewhat annoyed face in the picture, before his hand digs into his pants and he strokes lazily. He’s not usually this needy, but his fantasies from yesterday being unfullied make him annoyingly hard. The orgasm helps him nod off at least, his dreams turning to nightmares rather quickly and making him get up to change his pants and head off to hunt in the woods around camp to keep his mind busy. He doesn’t want those scenes in his head, every negative thought circling around.

The next day he distracts himself with dominos, shifting in his seat every few seconds to see if he can feel any of those bruises still. He can’t and it irritates him enough to lose to Sean of all people. Then a boasting voice catches his attention.

“Six-hundred, fer the family, Dutchy.” Micah grins, handing the large stack of money over. “An’ a couple jewels an’ such.”

Hosea takes the bags that you hand him, Arthur watching all the while. Dutch puts his hand on your shoulder, giving you a proud smile and a nod before sending you off.

As you walk away, Micah steps closer to Dutch. “Ya proud a’ me?”

Arthur tunes it out, focusing on you instead of Micah’s annoying attempts at sucking up. You find him easily and Arthur excuses himself from Sean and the game to meet you halfway. He takes your hand swiftly, pulling to his tent where he can kiss you like he wants in private. Your lips are chapped and dry but he hardly cares, kissing you hungrily and holding you close.

“What’s that all about, darling?” You smile, your hands resting on Arthur’s hips and making his heart skip.

“Been waitin’ for ya is all.” He sighs, kissing you again.

You stop him after a few seconds. “Go ahead and tell me what you want, Arthur.”

Arthur glances out at camp, finding most people minding their own business. Even Dutch is over by the fire for once, chatting with Hosea. Arthur moves to tug at the fabric of his roof, letting it drop down to cover the sides to enclose you. As he finishes the last tug, he feels your arms around his waist and he relaxes back against you for a moment.

“I want ya ta put me over yer knee.” He says, much less shameful that he’s sounded in the past.

“Bruises healed?” You question, kissing his neck softly.

“Uh-huh.” Arthur hums, turning in your arms to face you. “Need new ones so I ain’t missin’ ya so much.”

You smile, taking his hand in yours and pulling him back with you. You sit on his cot, your legs spread a bit as you pat your knee. Arthur scrambles to undress himself, thankful when he hears the music start up from Dutch’s tent. With his body bare, he situates himself over your lap with his back arched and his ass presented up for you. It’s a position he used to find embarrassing, but with no one to see him he doesn’t particularly care anymore.

He feels your hand run over his cheek, rubbing it softly for a moment before it disappears. Then it returns with a hard slap, making the excess skin jump from the contact. Arthur groans, hardening against your leg as you rub the presumably reddening skin. You give his other cheek the same treatment and Arthur shivers with every blow. You continue for nearly half an hour and Arthur holds back asking you to stop despite the numbness because he feels so good with the slight sting and the little ruts against your leg.

“Arthur?” You say gently, your hand giving soothing circles on his skin.

He hums, his mind slightly fogged with pleasure and comfort.

“You alright?”

“‘m fine, darlin’… just…” He wiggles his hips slightly, smiling to himself. “Just happy.”

Your hand runs up along his back and Arthur sighs in comfort. He feels so nice, satisfied without being touched or taken.

“Can we lie down…” Arthur mumbles. “‘m tired.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” You say, your hands helping him sit up. “Not in the mood anymore?”

He shakes his head despite the erection he has. “Ya can still fuck me if ya want, darlin’. I don’ wanna disappoint… ‘m just…”

“You don’t have to explain.” You press a kiss to Arthur’s forehead. “I’m happy just to hold you, okay?”

Arthur nods. He moves slowly, laying himself down on his side with his back pressed against the wagon. You follow suit and Arthur melts into your arms, his submissive side coming out even more as he mumbles little thanks and nuzzles your chest.

“You’re gonna get cold.” You mutter and Arthur realizes he’s naked.

When you lie down after sex you both usually put on something to cover your lower halves, but now Arthur lies bare while you’re fully clothed. He knows there’s a blanket folded up on the crates, but he doesn’t want you to leave.

“You can keep me warm, darlin’.” He mutters, hugging you tight. “Don’ leave.”

Arthur knows his words are double edged. He doesn’t want you to leave the bed, he doesn’t want you to leave him alone for so long again. Not just to keep those bruises he likes, but because he can’t handle it when you’re gone for so long. So he hides his smile against your chest when you kiss his head.

“I won’t.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #x reader #x male reader #fictober #kinktober

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danikamariewrites · 1 month

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𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

Prologue

A/n: welcome to my first series! I’m so happy to be putting this out and I’m excited to hear your thoughts. Please feel free to comment or ask questions :)

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of death, reader being trapped in a tower, deceptive Beron

At thirteen years old you were still showing no sign of powers. Your father had always told you tales of the fire that runs through your veins. What your birthright is as the last living heir to the Autumn Court.

He had always seemed so happy to have you as his child. So proud.

Though the expectations he set terrified you, you were happy you have Beron as a father. When your father visits your tower he always asks what you’re learning this week or if you found any new hobbies to enjoy. There wasn’t much to do in your tower but study and draw. In your free time art had become your passion. So much so that your father and tutor, Lady Briar, couldn’t ignore your talent.

Everytime your father visits you ask him to tell you a story. Finally, after a decade of begging him for the tale of your family, Beron gave in. Your mother and two older brothers had loved you very much, he would tell you.

“When you were just a babe,” he would start the same way every time, “Relations between us and the Night Court were unstable. Their High Lord was hell bent on dominating Prythian.” This tale would always scare you. Make you afraid of what you would have to face once you took the throne of the Autumn Court. You’d be alone as High Lady. You didn’t like to think about being without your father.

During their legendary battle your mother and brothers had perished at the hands of the vile High Lord of Night. It was so awful and graphic your father never let you read any of the history books about it.

After he would tell the story he would leave. Giving you no other information about your family. Only left with your imagination to draw up what they looked like.

By twenty-two your powers had come, but you didn’t dare speak of what they were. You didn’t have the bright flames he’d hoped for from you. Father had told you of the blue flame that came once in a generation. An Autumn High Lord hadn’t produced a child who could wield such power in centuries.

On your own you have discovered your daemati powers. You knew about them from the history books Lady Briar had given you about the High Lords of Prythian.

Every time father talked about powers your gut twisted. Your heart rate spiked. And your palms would sweat. Father mistook it for excitement about learning how to control the fire that was your birthright.

On the day before your fiftieth birthday your father came into your room. He was frantic and disheveled. Telling you he loved you, cherished you even. He told you that you are the most important person in the world to him. That the day you were born he was blessed by the Mother herself to have you in his arms

The next day he didn't visit. Nor the day after that. Then a week had gone by and nothing. No one had come to your tower.

He never missed your birthday.

Calming your mind and body you sit criss cross on your bed. Slowing your breathing you cast your mind out to the main house, far from your lonesome tower.

There was chaos and quiet. Advisors scrambling but no solid answers. But not a soul is worried about you.

A knock at your door brought you back to your body. Unlocking the door with your mind you quickly stand, smoothing out the skirts of your dark autumn red gown. Lady Briar enters, looking as solemn and stern as ever. You give her a deep curtsy. “Lady Briar,” you greet. Looking up you see her expression changed to one of slight sorrow. “Princess,” she starts. “Your father, he…he has been taken with the other High Lords. That is all we know for now, your grace.” Without another word Lady Briar turned and left.

For weeks you paced your room, going about your usual routine. Reading. Painting. Sleeping. Repeat. You were going stir crazy. You were also desperate for answers as to who dared keep your father captive.

Something wasn’t right. You could feel it in your gut that there was more to what happened.

If no one would tell you then it was time to hunt for answers on your own. Which means going somewhere you’ve never gone before.

You have to leave the comfort of the tower. Well, it’s never been comfortable. As the years droned on you’ve felt more cramped and isolated than anything.

You had no supervision. No one to tell you no. Lady Briar certainly isn’t an authority figure to you anyways.

It took days of projecting your mind into the house, watching to learn the guards patterns. Where you would need to hide yourself and whose mind you would need to hold on to.

Throwing your cloak on, taking a deep breath you make your way down the spiral stairs of the tower. There were less than you thought there would be.

Letting loose another breath, resting your hand on the door that separates you from the real world, you square your shoulders and push.

Taking in the night sky from below was so different than your window. It seemed wider. Endless. Feeling the soft ground under your boots made you want to run and jump through the Forest House grounds.

Perhaps another night.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #the vanserras #acotar Autumn court #y/n vanserra fic #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fic #acotar eris #eris acotar #eris vanserra #Lucien Vanserra #lucien acotar #acotar lucien #lucien vanserra acotar

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brbsoulnomming · 8 months

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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 6

The next time that Eddie sees Steve Harrington, the entire world has gone to shit. He has a broken bottle pressed against his neck and God, he's fucking terrified, half convinced he's going crazy and half convinced that some invisible thing is going to break him into pieces if he so much as closes his eyes and half convinced that Harrington is here to beat the shit out of him for Chrissy's murder and fuck, he doesn't want to die, he just wants all this to stop -

But they believe him.

Impossibly, they believe him, and they all act like this is old hat. This group that has no reason to be friends - the D&D nerd, the skater, the band geek, the jock, Jesus, add in Eddie as the criminal and they're a knock off Breakfast Club - they look at each other with world weary eyes and resignation, and then they all gear up and say let's go.

Easy as that. Just, the world is shit, the monsters in the dark are real, and the four of them sigh and unite together without question.

And then - yeah, they're on his side, and the food situation is a lot better than it was a day ago, and he's pretty sure he's not crazy, but aside from sporadic check ins, he's still very, very alone out here in the boathouse.

He can't sleep, he can't do anything to help himself - just like he couldn't do anything to help Chrissy - he's just a fucking wreck -

And then Jason Carver and his merry gang of freak hunters find him, and he's about ninety percent sure he's going to die out here on Lover's Lake.

But he doesn't.

Patrick McKinney does, floating above Lover's Lake just like Chrissy had in his bedroom, and this time when he hears the crunch of bones snapping it seems to echo even louder, all across the lake.

He shoots terrified eyes towards Carver, and for one stupid second he - he's almost relieved. It wasn't just him this time, bearing witness to something so horrifying. Someone else was here with him, someone else saw it too, and for an even stupider second he thinks maybe Carver will get it now, maybe he'll pull a Harrington and they can unite together against the monster doing this.

But Carver turns on him, clearly needing to blame it on someone he can see, and Eddie - well. Eddie's always been good at being the freak.

Good at running, too, and that's what he does again.

He spends a truly horrific night in the woods, terrified and alone and convinced every sound is Jason Carver or that thing coming to get him, more sure than ever that this is it, this is how he dies.

But he doesn't.

He reunites with the party, and tries not to let it show how fucking relieved he is - makes his dramatic entrance, all boisterous bluster, hoping none of them can see the fear in his eyes behind his wide smile.

The trudge back through the woods is as miserable as Eddie expected, but it's still worlds better than last night. At least now he's not soaking wet and cold and losing stretches of time to sheer terror.

At least now he's not alone, and he can distract himself by people watching.

Max and Lucas are walking together, clearly having some kind of serious discussion. Not quite an argument, he'd guess, though he can't hear what they're saying - a little lovers' quarrel, maybe? Probably, he concludes, when they separate, Lucas hanging back looking dejected and Max stomping off ahead.

He sees Harrington look between them, brow crinkled just a little bit in thought.

It isn't cute, Eddie reminds himself, and turns to watch Max instead. She's staring right at Harrington with a very clear fuck off vibe, and Eddie, drama magnet that he is, has to slow back a step or two so he can see them both.

Harrington turns his entire upper body towards her, walking without looking where he's going, which feels like a fucking recipe for disaster, but it just makes Max roll her eyes at him. Her eyebrows shoot up, and she pointedly flicks her gaze back in Lucas's direction. Harrington tilts his head, the bitchy are you for real expression that Eddie's moderately familiar with slotting easily into place.

Max sighs, her expression fading into something more sincere and shoulders dropping. She shakes her head at him, and this time her gaze lands on Lucas for a long, drawn out moment.

Harrington's already moving by the time she looks back at him, falling back to go join Lucas's side where he's kicking at pinecones as he walks.

For a moment, Eddie considers picking up his pace to go join Max, but she puts her headphones back on and hunches in on herself, clearly needing a few minutes alone. Normally, Eddie wouldn't involve himself in what may or may not be some freshman lovespat, but fuck, he desperately needs a distraction, so he keeps sneaking glances over at Harrington and Lucas. Whatever discussion they're having, it's clearly intense, but it still catches him off guard when Harrington suddenly plants himself in front of Lucas and forces him to stop.

Eddie stumbles to a halt, watching as Harrington cups the back of Lucas's neck and drags him in, leaning down to press their foreheads together. Lucas's shoulders hitch, like he's barely holding himself together, and Harrington gives him a little shake, sets them swaying back and forth for a moment.

Fuck, he shouldn't be watching this. This looks like it goes way beyond whatever on again off again thing Lucas and Max have going.

Of course, the second he has that thought, either something in the wind shifts or Harrington's voice picks up, because he can hear him saying, "This is not on you, you hear me? None of this is on you. And as the king of fuck ups, I'm something of an authority on the matter."

Eddie hurriedly lurches himself forward again, feeling ashamed.

A few minutes later, he sees Lucas walk on ahead, watches him connect with Dustin and Max to form a loose little trio. He expects Harrington to go up even farther, join up with Wheeler and Buckley, but he hangs back, all but falling into step with Eddie.

Huh.

"He okay?" Eddie asks, physically unable to stay quiet anymore.

Harrington sighs next to him, but it sounds sad, not aggravated. "They're just kids," he says, softly. "I keep hoping, you know, this time it'll be done, and they can just worry about the stupid stuff I did when I was their age, but-"

He gestures in a manner that Eddie takes to mean but all of this bullshit.

"I just wish the only thing we had left to talk about was why did you break up and how to get the girl and who didn't support who at what."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. The implication that a bunch of nerdy freshmen come to Steve Harrington for that kind of stuff - that he wants to talk to them about that, that he's the one they rely on - it'd been hard enough to hear coming from Dustin, but seeing it in action?

He's already had enough of his world view rocked in the last few days, he really doesn't need this too.

"He knows," Eddie starts, and then stops, unsure if this is so incredibly self centered of him - then pushes forward, because he keeps hearing none of this is on you and he feels like he needs to say it anyway. "He knows I don't blame him for the hunt the freak shit, right? That none of it's his fault?"

There's a flicker of surprise in Harrington's eyes, and then he's looking at Eddie all soft and warm like he did something right, something good, and oh, fuck. It shouldn't be anything, it shouldn't mean anything, but - God, what the fuck has Eddie ever done right in his life? The last few days have been nothing but reminders that he's a screw up, that he runs when people are in danger and leaves them to die, that half the town he grew up in believes he's capable of brutal, sadistic murder.

The last few days, he's been looked at with a never ending cycle of suspicion, anger, disappointment, pity, concern - and here Steve Harrington is, looking at him like he did something worth being proud of. It makes him want to go belly up, spread out and lay in it like a cat lounging in the sun.

Shit shit shit shit.

He does not want his soulmate to be Steve Harrington, he doesn't.

"He should," Steve says. "But he could probably use hearing it from you anyway."

"Right, yeah, of course. I'm just gonna-" Eddie waves up ahead. "Go. Do that."

He launches himself in what he hopes is actually the direction where Lucas is before he can make an even bigger fool of himself - though it's kind of too late for that, considering he trips over a fallen branch and only just manages to catch himself before he ends up face first in the leaves.

Eddie lurches and flings himself around, playing it up and making it look intentional as he slings an arm around Lucas's shoulders and shoots a wild grin at the little trio of freshmen.

"You ladies mind if I borrow Sinclair here for a minute? No? Excellent."

Max rolls her eyes at him and he can hear Dustin going, "ladies?!" as he drags Lucas off, but he ignores both of them. Lucas is so tense under his arm that Eddie drops it away from him once they've gotten a few paces away from the others, and then the kid watches him, eyes sharp and wary and wide.

It's not fear - not of Eddie, at least - but it's something close enough to it that it makes his stomach turn. He hadn't planned on what he was going to say before he just threw himself over here, and for a moment he panics a little.

"What you did was pretty awesome," he finds himself saying.

Lucas looks at him like he's not sure he heard him right. "What?"

"Yeah," Eddie says, gaining momentum now that he knows how he wants to handle this. "Sticking with those guys as long as you did to get info on their plans, using your survival knowledge to lead them off in the wrong direction? Very ranger of you, Sinclair. Guess I owe you one, risking yourself like that."

It's clearly not what Lucas was expecting, and there's a moment where his expression is pretty blank - Eddie's not sure if it's because he's trying to process what Eddie said or because he isn't going to accept what Eddie's doing, offering out this olive branch.

Eddie does what he always does when he's nervous.

He plays it up, raises his voice a little as he crows about having a ranger on your side as you trek through the woods, spinning it into a tale of bravery and throwing in enough exaggeration that Lucas finally laughs, shoving Eddie away and telling him to shut up.

If this was the lunch room, or a session of Hellfire, none of the freshmen would've dared do anything like that. And Eddie'd liked that, liked being respected and revered and leaving everyone with a sense of trepidation, all falling in line at his word - until he knew them well enough to know if they could be trusted, if he could let them in to see the real him underneath all his bravado.

It's just that there's not many that he's ever known well enough for that, and maybe he hasn't let himself really think about that before, but he is now.

It's just he likes this better, he thinks, because having Dustin and Lucas push each other and push him, all three of them trying to simultaneously be quiet enough not to call attention to themselves but loud enough to be heard over the others does a whole hell of a lot more to take his mind off the way Chrissy and Patrick's bones sounded as they snapped right in front of him than just about anything else.

It's just that when he looks over to where Steve and Buckley and Max are walking together, he sees Steve watching them, a soft little smile on his face, and it doesn't fade even when their eyes catch.

He doesn't want his soulmate to be Steve Harrington, he reminds himself.

—

And then they're at the lake, and Steve Harrington is shirtless and diving into the water, and then shirtless and ripping apart a demon bat with his bare hands and teeth, and then shirtless with blood and ichor dripping out of his mouth and down into his chest hair, and then shirtless and putting himself in front of him and Buckley and Wheeler with a look in his eyes like he'd rip apart anything that even tried to come for them, and -

Fuck.

He kind of wants his soulmate to be Steve Harrington.

Taglist (please let me know if I missed you, and always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @affablevixen @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void

-----

Part 7

#steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #dustin henderson #soulmates au #steddie soulmates au

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cherrysoojins · 8 months

Text

८ bewitched , ateez laufey songs .

✉️. five of eight, song mingi. what love will do to you.

&ㅤㅤ 📦 ♡ warnings. sfw, fluff, small mention of wooyoung &. yunho, suited for all ages, not proofread ( might have spelling errors ), not the best one i don’t rlly like it :(, let me know if any other warnings that should be added ! 1161 wc.

taglist. @luvvvlyjoong , @cherrystar1117 , @dairyminki

song mingi has never acted this way before.

he has never actively sat there and talked to the walls of his room about someone— not even when he was mad at someone and needed to ramble at something or to somebody. he always did it in his head.

but this time, he felt the physical need to actually talk about it. this feeling.

this feeling that was overwhelmingly taking over every inch of his body, but more specifically, his heart and mind.

love was so visceral. mingi has been in love before, has liked plenty of other girls and stuff, but you… you made him question if he was actually in love with all of those girls in the past.

for them, it was the thought of knowing he was in love with them. he looked at them and thought, “man, i’m in love with her.”

but with you, he felt it, too. it was so hard to ignore this feeling, he felt it so deeply throughout this body. the warmth, the butterflies, longing and aching whenever you left or when you were so close to him but he couldn’t hold or touch you… he truly felt in love with you.

he didn’t think he was in love with you, he knew he was in love with you.

and with these new overwhelming new emotions, he had to talk it out. and so he talked it out with the wall in front of where he sat on the edge of his bed.

could he just have gone to his friends? yes, but wooyoung would just laugh and poke fun at him and yunho would tell mingi all the right things and give great advice, but mingi found that annoying for some reason.

so the wall was his new best friend.

he could talk to it and it would keep all his secrets, it wouldn’t make fun of him or give him annoying advice (that he probably needed)— it just listened and that was what he really needed at the moment. was just someone to listen.

he wishes it was you who was listening. the things he admitted to this wall were the words he wished he could admit to you.

that he re-reads his favorite romance book time and time again and imagines you as the female love interest because knows that it ends with the two main characters in love, which would be you and him.

and that’s a big shocker because since when did mingi ever read?

days where you and him couldn’t meet up with each other were always so hazy— they were slow and he couldn’t recollect a single memory on what happened on those days. but the days where you were there, they went by fast but he could oddly enough remember ever single detail from the moment you got to the meeting spot to the very second you both left, he could recall it all.

these things were all so simple yet felt so odd to say. it sounds like he’s gone crazy and is just saying random stuff that doesn’t make sense.

but in a way, that’s what love will do to you.

it drives you crazy, but it can ultimately make you so insanely happy— love is odd and crazy and doesn’t make sense. it was made to make you not think straight— it was made to just make you feel.

and mingi did indeed seem crazy and was indeed not thinking straight as his fingers tapped your name into the search bar of his contacts and hit the “call” button without hesitation.

love will indeed do crazy things to you, because if he was in his right mind he would never do something like this.

“hi, mingi!” your voice rang out, picking up halfway through the first ring, almost immediately.

mingi could feel his heart rate pick up at the mere sound of your voice speaking to him so happily, with a hint of tiredness in it.

he assumes you might’ve been sleeping since he called you at three in the morning.

but would he sound insane if he said the idea of you waking up from your slumber and immediately accepting his call was endearing and enough to make the butterflies in his stomach go absolutely wild?

“y/n,” he breathed out a breath he was unknowingly holding into the phone, a smile etching onto his face at the sound of your voice that could light up a million rooms at once. “did i wake you up?” he asked a moment later.

“you did, but that’s okay because it’s you.” you said softly into the phone in response. he could hear you shuffling around in your bed and the sound of the phone being placed onto your pillow.

he could only assume that if this went right, you wouldn’t be hanging up on him at all tonight. falling asleep on the phone sounded like such a childish thing to get excited about, but he didn’t care.

any moment with you, even if it meant he was taking on the role of a corny high schooler with his first girlfriend who fell asleep on call with him, he would cherish it and adore it.

because that is also, what love will do to you.

“y/n, i…”

love will make you a different person in some ways, and make you discover things about yourself that you didn’t know before.

and for mingi, it made him realize how hard he can love, how he needs to vent about these feelings and get them off of his chest.

“i really like you. actually, i’m in love with you. really.” mingi sputtered out before his mind could talk himself out of it and catch up with his actions and put a halt to them.

there was silence on the other line for a couple of seconds before he heard soft little giggles emit from you, unease drowning his body. what if you were laughing at him? what if you didn’t reciprocate his feelings? what happens after this if you reject him right now?

this was pathetic, he should’ve known better. you were too good for him, he didn’t deserve you and—

“i’m in love with you too, mingi.”

oh.

“oh.” he said, his entire body freezing up im pure shock, but then relaxed in pure relief as all the other troubled thoughts slowly left his mind.

“but i’m going to ignore your confession because you told me through a phone call and not face to face.” you added before hanging up.

mingi would have over thought about that too if you didn’t send a heart emoji to him through text immediately after, causing a smile to appear on his face.

love will do crazy things to you. it’ll make you do things that you wouldn’t ever do normally, it makes you irrational and thoughtless.

but in cases like these, mingi was fine with that.

note. this one wasn’t my favorite, especially the ending. i really tried though, i just kind of gave up on it because mingi’s wasn’t going the way i planned, but i hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless !

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fallinforerling · 1 year

Text

LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. chapter 5 - jb

Song recommendation for today's update: Tink - Toxic

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The rest of the night went without you even noticing, mostly because of the extra drinks you had after telling the girls about the little selfie with Gio. And as you supposed, they loved how well played it was.

Another thing you could still remember vividly while you managed to open your eyes was that even after you said goodbye, you encountered Gio once again on the dance floor.

You danced together for a couple of songs. It was obvious you were having fun; Gio always behaved like an absolute sweetheart, super respectful, and even though you knew some flirting was there, he never made it obvious. He was good company.

Now you were fully awake, having a dejávu when you realized Mia and Nikki were sleeping in the same position from a few days ago. Odd.

“I can't believe we partied until four A.M” Mia's voice, sounding raspy as always when she drank too much, made you notice that she was also waking up. “Now I'm seeing the consequences of my actions.”

“Yeah...” You agreed, feeling how your body was heavier than usual, making it difficult to move. So you didn't. “I think I'll live here forever, I don't have the energy to get up. Not today, not ever again."

“What time is it?” Nikki whispered, still wrapped in two covers. You didn't even had two covers on your bed the day prior... Where did she find them?

“Hold on...” Mia moved around the bed for a moment before letting herself fall again into the mattress. “Oh God, it's 3 p.m”

The three of you gasped before laughing. Yep, that seemed reasonable.

“We need to eat something or else.” You said after a while, making sure none of them had fallen asleep again. “Are any of you craving some shawarma?”

“Hell yeah.” Nikki said, still wrapped around the covers, but fully awake as far as you could tell.

“Nice, let me grab my phone.” While getting up, you started to see the disaster the three of you caused around the bedroom. Your clothes were everywhere, the bathroom door was fully open and even being far away you could notice that three drunks were there. “Great...”

You didn't have the energy to care for cleaning right now. The bags were strangely safe, carefully placed by your vanity. Priorities. Luckily, all your stuff was still in your purse, which was a miracle of its own. The only strange thing was your phone, which was buzzing like crazy. The battery was almost gone, but you could see the many notifications popping up second after second.

“What the...?” You took it, fearing the worst. “Gio's story...” Now that you thought about it, maybe being posted and tagged on a famous footballer's insta story wasn't the smartest option when you wanted to keep a low profile. “Fuck my life...” While you unlocked it, Nikki and Mia were out of bed, looking at you with curiosity.

“What happened?” Mia said, arching an eyebrow.

“I think I just exposed myself to the world.” You said, gasping when you saw that most of the notifications were from Instagram.

"What do you mean "exposing yourself”? You didn’t post a nude picture, did you?” Nikki questioned, getting out of the covers.

“I think that’ll be easier to fix if that was the case…” You unlocked your phone, trying to calm down and not succumb to the rising panic you were starting to feel.

Tons of notifications were still coming, but you decided to go directly to Instagram and find out what kind of disaster was starting to unfold. Your notifications were up to at least 5.000 only in mentions and following requests. Thank God you kept your IG private. Before your trembling fingers made a mistake, you went to your DMs, which were even worse than the notifications because not only hundreds of people were asking who you were, but also sending you videos and photos. With a deep breath you started to open the recent ones.

“What’s going on? You look pale.” Mia got up from the bed, taking your arm carefully. “Come on, sit before you pass out.”

“I feel like I’m about to…” You sat between the two of them, letting them see your phone screen. They peeked over your shoulders, gasping when they saw the amount of DMs.

Some of the messages were just things like “Are you Gio’s new girlfriend?” or “Are you friends with Gio? Give him my number lmao” while others were worse, not because they were threatening you or anything similar, but because they mentioned Jobe’s twitter photos or that people were sharing videos of you dancing with Gio last night.

You went through some of them, feeling more and more anguished by the minute.

“Is this you with Gio????”

“Oh my god, are you dating both Jobe AND Gio?”

“Are you the same girl from the photos of the twitter threat?”

“You look kinda similar to Jobe’s new girlfriend”

“It’s giving clout chaser”

“Are we seeing the rise of the next WAG?”

“You’re pretty asf”

“Omg, I could swear on my mom I’ve seen you before in Dortmund with Judeeeee”

The last caught your attention more than you wanted. It wasn’t that impossible, since you did go out for walks with Jude after his practice or drive him around town when you were visiting. But back then it was impossible for the few people that saw the two of you together to figure out who you were. Now, with your face out in the open, maybe more people could start recognizing you.

God knows what could happen.

The absolute worst part of all this was people recognizing you from that stupid Twitter threat. You weren’t dating Jobe, but who was going to believe you? It was better to stay silent while figuring out what to do from now on.

“Look, someone’s calling you.” You blinked, coming back to the real world. You didn’t even notice that you spaced out for a bit.

The screen read “Unknown number”

“You take that, I’ll see what’s all this fuss about.” Nikki got up, reaching for her bag.

“I’ll go make us some coffee.” Mia gave you a look that said I’m sorry.

“I’ll help you with that” Nikki almost ran after Mia, giving you that look of sympathy you hated before leaving. The door closed behind them with a click. Now you were alone with this call.

You didn’t know why, but you knew it was Jude.

“Hello?” You picked it up before it went to voicemail, regretting it almost immediately.

“I’ve been calling you all morning! The fuck is happening? Why are you on Gio’s IG?” Yep, that was Jude’s voice.

You didn’t know what you were expecting when the first call after the breakup happened. Feeling excited? Hopeful? Happy? None of that was happening at the moment; you were pissed. Because how dare he call after weeks of silence to confront you about what you did as a single woman?

“Excuse me?” You said, feeling your blood boil. “Why would I give you an explanation?”

“Because you’re my-”

“Your what, Jude?” Your voice remained firm while your heart shattered all over again. Why was he doing this? “Your ex-girlfriend? Yes, I remember. I’m not your problem anymore, why are you calling me?”

“You’re still my friend, you know that” Ouch. “You didn’t even told me you were going out with freaking Gio.” Why was he mad at that?

“And why should I inform you about that?” You wouldn’t admit you just happened to run into Gio yesterday.

"Because now people think you're his fucking girlfriend!"

“So what?! You didn’t let me know when you went out partying and when you made out with some girl a week ago, did you? Do you even care if people assume that's your fucking girlfriend?”

The line fell in an awkward silence for a few seconds. You almost laughed.

“How do you know about that?” At least he didn’t try to deny it.

“Why does it matter?” You avoided answering him. “You’re acting like a hypocrite. Why are you calling me? To make me feel bad about moving on and having fun with my friends, just as you did a week after you broke up with me?”

“That’s not what-”

“You know what? I don’t really care what you are trying to do here. Don’t call me again.” And you hung up.

Before he could call again, you blocked his number. And then, like a wall collapsing, you started to sob and then to cry.

“Fucking prick!” You wanted to throw your phone, but that wasn’t going to make you feel better. You hated him more than ever. And you hated that he had this effect on you.

“Honey! What happened?” Both girls came running into the room, startled by your scream.

“That fucking asshole!” You said, unable to stop your sobs. Were you crying because of how mad you were or because you still felt a little bit of hope about this call being different? “He dared to call me to ask questions about why I was with Gio last night… Like he had any rights to do shit like that.”

Your friends hugged you without saying anything, knowing what you needed right now.

When were you going to get over him?

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anguishedlurker · 4 months

Text

What a burden you are

((Hey kids wanna see Danny have Enough(tm) of Valerie['s bullshit from Valerie's POV and the fallout thereof?))

Ao3 Link

Valerie found herself reflecting on her time under Masters more than she already wanted, most nights.

Tonight was worse than most. A pathetic echo in her mind trying to take root as she chased a different kind of pathetic echo.

For each and every fault he had- she could spend years counting in that miserable creep of a man- he knew his ghosts and his weapons. Very little of his advice had proven inaccurate on even the most minuscule of levels.

“An afraid ghost is never to be underestimated, yet if careful they can undo themselves with hardly an effort by you.”

But no, Phantom wasn’t afraid in front of her. Insolent brat, darting from cover to cover. To boot, it had the audacity to stick it’s tongue out at her.

The humor didn’t reach its eyes though. Not tonight. Though, it always seemed a little rougher around the edges when she managed to jump it after some ghost had tried doing her work for her.

Yet it was always almost well humored to her.

Tonight really shouldn’t be different.

“Fear will destroy them- even in the living it’s hard to control a fear response. Aimless lashing out makes openings.

Rage, on the other hand…”

And yet, Phantom seemed annoyed by her hunt tonight, of all things. How inconvenient of her, really! Maybe she’d upgrade to threat one day, if she was realllll patient…

Phantoms head finally phased out of a tree, grinning at her in a way that didn’t meet it’s eyes.

“Well, this barking match has gone on long enough to prove bite-less, so I’m afraid I’m gonna have to take my leaf!”

Pew pew, cunt.

(As always, the faint sense that her dad would be reaching for the soap brushed past her mind)

She missed, of course. It’d been a long time since she’d hit Phantom.

“Chickening out already, Phantom? Thought you were better than that.”

Keep her voice low, even. Steady. Bait doesn’t work without patience. And everything seemed to hit less and less, now.

“No you don’t. And even if you did, don’t you have work? Or school? Promotions or tests to pass, even?”

Its voice echoed from nowhere in particular, giving no indication to location.

Its staunch refusal to indicate whether or not it knew anything about her was ever present.

“Oh, you’re interested in my life? How flattering. Stay the fuck away from my apartment.”

Same song new night. Lancers test was tomorrow though, but this was more important. Shitty junior year and it’s- focus. If she can’t get to it then she simply has to improve her attempts. It will crack eventually.

“Yeah yeah, kill on sight. Seriously though, Red, how do you keep standing with the way you live? You can’t possibly be getting more than two hours of sleep a night.”

Sound to the left- Pew pew. It almost sounded concerned about her.

How pathetic.

“Who’s to say I don’t sleep during the day?”

“You don’t.”

“And you know this because?”

A question with no good implications underneath, and no good answers.

Accusations to its integrity always seemed to work best. Closest thing to falling over itself it’d get, all to prove it was a ‘good person’.

Phantom finally formed away from cover, relaxed and cozy in an imaginary reclining chair. It seemed to cycle through ways to mock her, always implying that it was completely unbothered.

Kept up its little act even when it was hit! Really, to brush off the shots like it couldn’t feel them….

Been a while since she’d made it flinch, actually. No matter what she managed to do to it.

No, no. Focus.

She could see it. The lack of real humor in its eyes- whether or not it’d admit such a thing, she was getting to it. She had to drive a knife into its cracks somehow.

“People have bills. Doesn’t take crazy stalking to figure out you either have a sponsor or are stupid rich- and you kinda stopped talking to your sponsor. Was a whole thing in the ghost community? Anyways, you need to have some sort of job or some sort of parental support at this point.”

A dead smile, a tilt of the head. Teeth much too sharp in a mouth that almost could’ve passed for a real person’s.

She’ll need to hunt down- No, it’s already out. And if she gets pissed, she’s dead.

“Rage is lethal. They’re focused, and they want you dead.

And, I mean the best when I say it dear, you don’t know rage. Not in ghosts.”

She’d argue she knew plenty about rage, period, though the point was long gone.

Pew pew.

It disappeared and reappeared two feet to the right, still smiling.

Fucker.

“What can I say, I value my independence. Strong and capable, everything a hunter needs to be.”

“Uh-huh. Who’s that philosopher that said no man is an island, again?”

It pretended to tap its foot against the dead air, taking its eyes off her as it acted out exaggerated thinking. Bait to shoot.

“John Donne. Know any philosophers that ever chatted about not dragging people down?”

“Right, this has been a delight but- hey wait, I think that’s actually right. I dunno, it’s the kind of thing I’d actually have to look up-”

“Dragging. Down. Get it? Ha. Ha.”

Finger curled around the trigger, giving one attention grabbing pew.

Vanish, and re-appear.

“Only so many times I can try to say that first and foremost, not my dog. Not at that point. Just a concerned samaritan trying to figure out why a dog was loose. You don’t care, though.”

Its tone was… more clipped than usual. And it’d been a while since it’s last pun.

Good.

“Honestly, it goes beyond the dog at this point.”

“Really, Red? Nobody’s got you at gunpoint out here.”

She’d been stewing on this one a while actually. Never a better time than the present to try a new tactic, right?

“No, no. The town Phantom. The ghosts as a whole.”

“Go harass one of the Doctor Fentons’ about the tear in the fabric of reality in their basement then.”

Oh it was seething with that one.

Good.

Yet, this was an infuriating corner.

“The Fentons have made it clear that by now, they can’t do anything.”

“I’m missing the part where you turn it into my fault. And even if your point was clear, they are liars. Bad ones.”

The accusation against the Fentons integrity had to be bait. As such, asking was caving in to its plans.

“Simple. They’re after you. It’s a game that you’re encouraging.”

Its eyes narrowed, most of its pantomimes of life and movement ceasing.

Finally.

“You have no idea how much I wish they’d stop. Not that you’re willing to learn.”

“So you admit it?”

“Nothing of the sort. If they all stopped I would stop appearing.”

“Typical.”

“Mhmm.”

“Still, guess you’re just too used to dragging people down with you, right? Enough to never notice.”

“Listen, I get to hear my friends jack off to pseudo psychology enough as it is. You got your stinger loaded yet, or should I just, like, go?”

“Well since you’re asking… let me ask; were you even a blessing in life?”

The silence was palpable.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Phantom paused, eyes narrowing further as it processed her accusation.

“What teenager is, really?” It eventually ground out, not even deigning to smile.

“I’ll have you know I was a delight.”

Wry, guiltless. Keep steady.

“Hmmm… I dunno that I believe that one, Red.”

A pretend hum, something that if written out would sound like a quip.

Its tone was completely flat.

Valerie smirked underneath her helm.

“But something like you, I can just see it. Everything falling over itself to baby your pathetic ass… How much did they give you? How much did you take from them?”

For one single second, Phantoms eyes reflected red.

“Like your dad and your hospital bills?”

Silence.

And then, rage.

“So help me, Phantom-”

“No, no Red- Let’s- I’m done, okay? You- I blaze through and you blame me, fine.”

Her shots missed, of course

“But, Valerie, how much do you cost your dad in medical bills at this point? Delight my left asscheck.”

Even in her rage, she had to pause. She’d never heard it swear.

Her shots missed again.

“You sign up to the most insane asshole you can find just to hunt down what- even with your little revenge fantasy- is some fucking teenager-”

Lots and lots of swearing.

Phantom was properly pissed this time.

Good, it was getting old not getting to it.

And nothing it could say can-

“Hell, I looked it up once- You know your little punctured lung you got off of Skulker? That your dad had to drag you out of the wreckage for and strip your suit off just to keep your little job secret? Boom, median of six grand. Right there.”

… how much?

“What does every bill combined add to Valerie? You wanna- how much of a burden- Jesus Christ. How much of a burden are you? Good god.”

How much…?

...

No, no it had to be bait. Hospitals are expensive but- well… very expensive- but!- … how much?

She was in combat.

“Deny a girl her hobbies, eh? But finally, so you do-”

“No shit I know who you are. Some chick shows up with a revenge fetish against me? I‘m investigating.”

Fucking- fetish??

“And here I though there could be some proof not all highschoolers are assholes.” She snarked, not paying attention to what she was saying. Scripts were running in her brain with no checks to see if it was sensible or not.

“I didn’t make it to highschool, Valerie. You want to kill a middleschooler, and you can’t even tell me what you’ve costed your dad to get here.”

Her gun, for the first time in... a very long time, dropped from its lock on Phantom.

“You can’t tell me what you cost but you’re just soooo cozy with telling me I must’ve been a- Fuck you. Genuinely. Did you even know the dog was one your fathers company killed? Bet you didn’t. Allll their guard dogs in training were put down for that pretty security system. A middleschooler and a dead puppy.”

“You are not a middleschooler.”

Her breathing hitched too much, she was losing herself. Phantoms youthful (manipulative, fake, anything else please) looked at her with no warmth.

No humor.

“Not anymore, no. The dead don’t have school.”

Its tone was openly cold and resentful.

In front of her was a ghost, whom she hated. It was a violent, mean, and dishonest thing with no regard for other people.

And the same eyes it’d always had stared back at her right now. Phantoms features had never budged the slightest nanometer, the last two years.

Youthful as ever.

Pew, pew.

It did not move, and it did not flinch.

“It’s been a long time since you could hurt me Valerie.”

Borderline glacial towards her, like she was a particularly stupid child.

But maybe she deserved that one, because of all things, she should’ve seen that it wasn’t acting unbothered by her shots.

“Ask your dad how much you cost him before lecturing me on- Just. God. There’s something genuinely wrong with you. And I’m not protecting you anymore, not if that’s seriously how you’re gonna treat- just… fuck you.”

It had disappeared before she could re-aim her gun at it for the audacity. Protecting her? Bullshit.

But, all alone now, board humming underneath her, left her stewing over the entire conversation.

And, well…

At least she’d obviously touched a nerve.

~~~

More than she’d ever be worth in her life, ever again, was her answer. Not the one he said, but she knew what evasion looked like. She knew what it meant.

And how much did he pay per month?

More than what they had to spare, was not said. He’d never say it.

A new fight breaking out near her was a relief, one she didn’t dwell on.

She’d just have to be careful to not get hurt. It was so simple.

And then the battle between Skulker and lunch lady halted at her appearance, Skulker turning smug while Lunch Lady looked away abruptly.

“And what the fuck do you think you’re gonna do, looking so happy over there?” She asked, strafing left as she aimed her gun.

Skulker didn’t move as the metal helm grinned wider. Lunch Lady vanished.

“Did you know Phantom declared open season on you?” Was the last thing she heard before her world was crushed.

~~~

Her dad would never blame her. Never say it.

Never tell her she was a burden.

But now- god, how much did this cost? Doctors were saying to just hope she wasn’t permanently paralyzed. Hope that she could eventually write again with her left hand, or learn to use her right.

She’d be out of school for a long time now.

At least she missed Lancers dumb test.

The heart monitor was her only company through the pain meds (that she refused most of) and incessant nurses.

Until…

“Danny?”

Silent as mist, as always. She hadn’t heard the door. But there he was, looking like he always did.

Except…

“Listen, I’m not really here to talk. I was voted to bring you your homework and flagged down to pass a note.”

His face tight, his tone blank.

“I’m sure you have things to do.”

He was probably itching to go back to trying to help his sister around the house, sweeping after the absolute tornadoes that were his parents.

A real shame Jasmine never left. An even greater shame she never admitted why she settled for the local college.

She could’ve gone places.

“Sure. Let’s go with that.” He gruffed, setting a binder of work on the first table he could find.

“Here’s your card.”

Huffed out, the card tossed with laser accuracy to her non injured hand. She’s lucky she caught it, the pain meds she couldn’t deny like weights on her one good hand.

This was- what did she do?

“Danny, what-”

“I don’t really want to hear it. ‘Cause it’s about time you knew that I know damn well what you do in your off time, and did this to yourself really.”

No…

No.

“And when exactly did you find out that-”

“The entire goddamn time, Val! Remember the stupid flour baby? The job I was threatening you with was ghost hunting, not being the Nasty Burger mascot! Which! I still hold to that if you weren’t ghost hunting, it wouldn’t have been that hard to do your half!”

He- no, not that long. Impossible. Nobody else had even looked at it as a serious-

He’s always been a little smarter than what he lets everyone know.

The last lick of sense echoed through what had to be the meds. Danny, always there, seeming to know more than what anyone had ever told him. Easy to work with, happy to obey. He made it so very easy to forget he was so bright.

Focus.

“Fine, fine! But I didn’t- Skulker-”

“God- just… God. Don’t. Nobody asked you to fight them. You tossed out everything and everyone that didn’t fit to do it, too.’

“I didn’t do-”

“We are not friends, Valerie. You don’t have any friends, and we’re barely ex’s at this point. And for what?”

“Barely even- What are you on about??”

“Val, we dated for like, two weeks two years ago! And you dumped me to go chase after Phantom, ‘cause fuck having a real life with friends or a boyfriend!”

It was like a fun house mirror held up to those memories, how he stood there now.

Never did get taller, never did lose most of the baby fat. Now standing there seething with hate instead of adoration.

He still looked as frail as ever.

“But Phantom-”

“Shut up, take your homework, and read your shitty card.” He growled, already heading for the door.

No- No! It’s just- This isn’t like Danny! Danny… Danny just never swore- it was like, hardcoded into him!

“And what the fuck did I do to earn this? God, if it turns out you got possessed-”

Danny paused, looking back at her for a split second. So short she could’ve hallucinated it the heartstopping look before he went straight back to having his hands on the door, ready to bolt.

“Would you say that shit to me?”

“I… What?”

“What? You don’t think I ever managed to talk to some of the ghosts? I know what you said to him. Would you say it to me?”

“Of course not!”

“No, no, of course you wouldn’t. Never would even think about it, right? Fentons too cute and innocent, and small to- ugh. I know why you never tried making friends with me and Tuck- Sam hated you- but- fuck. Don’t talk to me.”

She had nothing left. Danny was-

Too cute, innocent, and small to spew this kind of hatred at her?

Ugh… Who knew such an adorable little face could be so mean...

He looked ready to slam the door. He looked like it was taking great restraint to not, every muscle so obviously tense underneath all his layers.

It’s a wonder how he never overheated.

And at the last second, he hesitated.

“I never wanted you hurt, I… I promise, even if I’m mad. Enraged, even. But I just don’t know what you thought was going to happen, anymore.”

And then it was slammed shut, leaving her with the sinking feeling he was gone forever from her life.

… fuck.

Alone, again now, with a heart monitor and a card from- Well, Danny hadn’t mentioned.

God that stung. Couldn’t even stay to say who still had a heart for her.

She needed to move on, already, because burnt bridges weren’t going to get fixed any time soon. And that left the card as her only option forward right now, right?

It was just folded printer paper, with no decoration on the outside.

And on the inside-

One logo, seared into her brain well over two years ago. Looking at her.

“I don’t know why I thought you were worth defending.

They won’t be nice about it ever again.

-DP”

She hid the card under her hip, eventually. Made a nurse toss it out the next time one came around.

Pretended like she hadn’t seen it.

#danny phantom #dp #fic #valerie gray #long #angst #come get yall juice

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romanoffsbish · 10 months

Note

Kate Bishop 4 . “I can’t believe that the world had infinite chances to find me a soulmate, and I lucked out and hit the absolute jackpot with you.”

Kate Bishop x Reader

A lil blurb ❤️

Kate simply couldn’t take her eyes off of you, even though her alarm that had gone off thirty minutes ago was an indicator for her to get up and start her day. Clint’s incessant texts went ignored as well. The young archer was busy.

It’d been months since she last got to hold you like this, to feel as your warm breaths fanned across her skin. To intimately cradle your body against her very own without the blanket of sleep keeping her from seeing you. This was a nice break from her more bleak reality.

——

Kate was missing you like crazy with the nonstop flow of missions with Clint and the skilled Widows, him and Natasha were ready to pass on their mantles. Yelena seemed ready, but neither OG Avenger would leave the other hanging, and Clint wasn’t done with Kate yet.

Kate understood, Clint had a family, and Wanda and Natasha were jonesing to start their own. But she also had you to think about. Just a year ago you two were college seniors, wildly in love; now you are an official business woman, and she’s an Avenger, with no time for romance.

It saddened her to ask you to have to accept this life, but she loved you too much to have broken it off, and you were incredibly patient.

“Kate?” You whispered her name in disbelief, “You’re still here?” The sound of your voice made the woman’s heart flutter with a mix of love and guilt. It’d been weeks since you’d been able to feel her arms around you, so she felt the way you instinctively nuzzled further into her, but it was also obvious to her that the only reason you’re up at 6am is her buzzing phone that was just out of her reach. “Yeah, I’m here. I think I’m just going to blow off Clint today.”

You untangled from her grasp, against her groans of protests to sit up and face her. Kate saw the worry on your face, and just as she went to cup your cheek you reached to touch her forehead with the back of your hand. The woman stifled her giggle as best she could.

“Baby, I’m not sick, I just think life requires a little balance, and I’ve weighed the scales to find that you’re not being given your fair share.”

“It’s okay Kit-Kat, I get it, you are a superhero.” You shrugged nonchalantly, but with your eyes locked with hers she could see the toll her absence had been having on you. “You are fighting the evil of the world, it would be selfish of me to expect you to be around that much.”

“You deserve an attentive partner,” she fiercely challenged and you smiled softly. “I have one.”

Kate frowned, “Y/N/N, I’m hardly ever here.”

“Yet I’m never lonely,” you teased, “Every morning I find a smoothie in the fridge with my name on it. When I get to work there’s almost always something waiting for me, whether that be a bouquet of flowers, or my go to take out order arriving around lunch time. You never miss our six o’clock dinners or movie nights.”

You watched her eyes gloss over. “I still don’t think it’s enough my love, you deserve more.”

You shook your head, and straddled her lap with a loving smile. “What more could I need Kit-Kat?” In a show of dramatics you threw your arms up to emphasize the question, as if the universe would answer, then you smiled as she looked at you with a pout that you promptly kissed away. “You,” you paused to peck her lips again, “Returning home to me safe and holding me close is all I’ll ever want or need.”

Kate tackled you into a hug, her body crushing yours as she placed kisses all over your neck. “I can’t believe that the world had infinite chances to find me a soulmate, and I lucked out and hit the absolute jackpot with you.”

“I’m far from a prize Kit-Kat,” you managed to giggle out, though her unrelenting attack of your upper body with kisses was making you a bit too giddy to remain aware. “You’re insane, you my dear, are the best prize of them all.”

“I love you with all of my heart Y/N.” You smiled and cupped her cheeks as she was hovering above you, her flexed arm muscles on display. As if it was no effort to remain upright. “I love you too, which is why I can’t keep you home.”

Kate grumbled, “Which is why I’m doing it.”

“What was on today’s agenda?” You pressed, and she groaned, “More strength training.” Kate rolled her eyes when she saw your smirk. “We could go together, I can be moral support.”

“You’re a pervert,” she groaned, but it was playful. She herself was looking forward to taking a nice, long shower with you today. This really just afforded her the opportunity. “But that’s what I love about you, you’re a freak.”

You snorted softly, “Glad to know that of all my wonderful attributes that’s what you cherish.”

“You keep me young,” she said with a shrug, and you laughed harder, “You’re literally 22.”

“I know, my back is starting to kill me,” she teased, then she placed a chaste kiss to your lips before disappearing into the closet to talk to the angry, elder archer about her faulty alarm while you got ready for a day full of adventure.

#kate bishop imagine #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x reader #kate x reader #gxg #kate bishop #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop blurb

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teaberrii · 8 months

Text

Chapter 19: A Mother's Love?

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

You, posing as Jing Yuan’s handmaiden, walked toward the king’s quarters with clean bedsheets draped over an arm. It wasn't a job you signed up for, but it was an opportunity to get access to your father’s room without suspicion.

During the time you were gone, things had changed. Your mother had passed away due to poor health, and your father was receiving threats from the Middle Kingdom. You had discovered it was because Young was missing, and his people were blaming the humans.

This was proof.

Someone had used magic on the day of Young’s execution.

“...A concealment spell?” you had asked. Pom placed a round tray with two cups filled with the herbal tea on the table. Then, he sat on the couch across from you. “That would explain why word never got out about it." Your eyes hardened. “But…”

Pom picked up a cup. “But?”

“No one said anything about it. Even when I was exiled… no one said anything about Young’s death. Not even my parents. It was like they wanted to avoid mentioning it.”

“It’s possible they had their memories erased or were brainwashed.”

You picked up your cup of tea. “That’s one way to keep their mouths shut, that’s for sure.”

“Jing Yuan probably said Young had gone missing, but I’m sure some people know the truth.” You immediately think of Caelus. “That’s one explanation for the lack of bloodshed that should be happening.”

"Is a concealment spell hard to do?"

“That depends,” Pom said. With a swift wave of his hand, his teacup suddenly disappeared. Then, with a snap, it reappeared. “Depending on what you’re trying to conceal defines the difficulty and the type of magic. I f it was an execution, that’s definitely black magic considering, well, you’re hiding someone getting killed. And on a large scale like that where a crowd was involved… that’s not easy to do.”

“...Young once told me Jing Yuan was threatening him for information on black magic.”

“But this is advanced. There’s no way a human could do something like this, let alone master it. Not this quickly, at least. So, either Jing Yuan's been a crazy psychopath since he was, like, ten. My money is on that he got some extra help."

You raised a brow. “I didn’t know how fast you learned magic depended on your race.”

“Not exactly. Humans are… er, well, they’re normies. No offence."

"None taken."

"They don’t have an advantage like Young’s kind. I guess, to put it another way… Young was born with magic in his blood that could make any spell more effective. The older they get, the stronger it gets."

Then, was Young… betrayed? But why? By who?

Pom looked you in the eyes. “I don’t think it’s just Jing Yuan we’re after.”

You stopped in front of the door to your father’s quarters. This was the first time in a long time you'll see him again. Had he ever thought about you in the last few years? Did he ever regret what he did?

After entering, you slid the door closed. With a quick wave, the door had permanently locked itself so you were the only person who could get in and out.

Your father’s living quarters were exactly as you remembered it: clean and organized. The door to his study was open; no one was inside. So, you made your way to his bedroom. You slid another door open, and you saw your father sleeping soundly on the bed. You quietly approached him, dropping the clean bedsheets on the floor.

By the time your father realized someone was beside his bed, it was already too late. He couldn’t move, couldn’t blink. It was as if he was paralyzed. You had one knee on his bed while leaning over him. He whimpered. Trembled. Soon, your appearance changed back, and you smiled at him.

“Hello, Father,” you said quietly. “Did you miss me?”

Everything was in his eyes. Shock. Fear. Worry. The questions were written on his face. How was this happening? How did you get in here? Why were you here?

“You made a big mistake when you and Mother banished me.” You took out the vial of black mist from inside your hanfu pocket. “You should’ve just killed me.”

Your father’s eyes landed on the black mist, and he began to sweat. Another whimper. “Shh…” You put your hand over his mouth. “This won’t hurt. I promise."

You popped the cap off, and the mist slowly scaled the tube. Then, as if it had a mind of its own, it slithered towards your father. You let him go as the mist got closer… closer… and closer… until it crawled into his eyes and nose. His eyes went black, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. A gag. A short strangled scream. Then, his mouth closed, and you closed his eyes with your hand as if he died.

“...You won’t be alone. I assure you.”

Everything went quiet.

Before leaving the room, you looked over your shoulder and said, "Goodbye, Father."

Then, you left as if nothing had happened.

Jing Yuan swirls the alcohol in his glass as he looks at you. Your glass is still full.

It was by chance he bumped into you on his way out of the building. He could still see your surprised look, but it was far from pleasant. Still, Jing Yuan took the opportunity and approached you, knowing that you wouldn’t rip his throat out in public where there were busy crowds as people were getting off work.

“Could we talk?” he had asked.

You blatantly ignored him, stepping around him to continue on your way. However, he grabbed your wrist, and you glared at him.

“Let me go, or I’ll scream.”

Jing Yuan pulled you closer to him. “Then, what do you propose we do, Sweetheart? I’m not going be a sitting duck waiting for you to murder me in my sleep.” He saw the whites of your eyes turn red, and Jing Yuan’s heart raced out of anxiety. He’d better hold his tongue.

“You’re right,” you had said, and suddenly Jing Yuan couldn’t breathe. “I should’ve done so the moment I saw you.”

Jing Yuan let you go and raised a hand as if surrendering. “Look,” he gasped. “I mean no harm. Truly.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nanook who was watching the entire scene. "Just ask your friend.”

You didn’t turn, but your eyes flashed toward Nanook who gave you a friendly smile. Then, he casually walked up as you asked, "What are you doing here?”

“Me? Oh, well, just makin' sure my favourite girl doesn't turn into a cold-blooded killer." Nanook looked at Jing Yuan, and the man could suddenly breathe again. You furrowed your brows and turned to Nanook. “...It won’t do you any good from killing him.”

Jing Yuan took a steady breath. “Again, I come in peace.”

“What do you want to talk about?” you asked coldly.

“...The past.”

And that’s how you and Jing Yuan end up at his office.

Nanook is gone, but you know he’s watching from somewhere.

“Not a drinker, Love?”

“You’re wasting my time,” you say. “You said you wanted to talk. Get on with it.”

Jing Yuan puts his empty glass on the table. As he walks toward you, his thumb casually twists the ring on his finger.

“You’re holding me against something I didn’t do,” he says. “I am not the person who killed your lover in the past. We may share the same face, but I would never do something like that." He smiles. "If it were me, you wouldn't even know—" Jing Yuan suddenly doubles over in pain. When it subsides, he takes a small breath. "Not a fan of jokes. Okay, got it."

“Perhaps you’re capable of something much worse, and I should be doing the world a favour by ripping your heart out.”

“And then what? Hm?” Jing Yuan grabs your shoulders. “Centuries from now when everyone is reborn again… you’re going to do the same thing? Continue hunting me down?” He smiles wryly. “It’s romantic in a twisted sort of way, Sweetheart.”

Suddenly, he feels an intense, sharp pain shoot through his chest. When he feels something squeezing his heart, he slowly looks down and sees blood dripping onto the floor. Your hand is inside of him, toying with his heart… literally.

“...Cupid, wait.” You slowly turn to Nanook who has a worried look. “Just… calm down.”

“Tell me, Love," Jing Yuan manages to say. "How much do you remember?”

“Enough that I don’t need to remember anything else to know you took everything from me.”

Your nails dig into his heart, making Jing Yuan cough and spit blood.

You were hiding in the forest, a bow and arrow in your hands. Your prey was in sight, and you raised your weapon, preparing to kill the deer a distance away until a noise from behind you scared the animal off. You frowned as you turned and saw Jing Yuan with a slight, smug grin with a rock in his hand.

“Seriously?” you asked.

“You were taking too long.” He jumped from the fallen tree trunk he stood on and approached you. “There’s no waiting in battle.”

“There’s also something called recklessness,” you muttered. You put your arrow back into the quiver.

“How did you get your hands on this? You know women aren’t supposed to handle weapons.”

“What? Are you going to tattle on me, General?”

Jing Yuan slightly leaned closer to you. “I won’t… but just because I like you.”

“Right. How many times have you used that line before?"

“Why have you been avoiding me lately, Princess? Don’t tell me it was because of what happened the other night.”

You stopped. You, Jing Yuan, and Luocha had gotten together for a casual night of drinking. Your brother left early, and while you had a few more drinks, you’d accidentally confessed your feelings about how much you hated the political rivalry, forcing you and a friend to meet in secret. Upon realizing your mistake, you stopped drinking. When Jing Yuan asked who you were talking about, you—not entirely sober—stood and said it was nobody.

Jing Yuan had helped you to your room. Suddenly, he pulled you close and whispered in your ear that he'd help you forget whoever was plaguing your mind. That was the first time he kissed you. Even though you initially rejected his advances, you eventually succumbed. Perhaps it was because you were under the influence of alcohol. Jing Yuan wanted to believe it was because of your feelings. One thing led to another, and you felt terrible the next morning from the vulnerability the night before. It had been a huge mistake.

“...I told you that was a mistake," you said.

Jing Yuan had acted like your words didn't hurt him, casually saying that it was one night of fun. That was it. Little did you know that he felt used, but he had no one to blame but himself.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" you asked as Jing Yuan caught up to you. "Don’t you have big boy things to do?”

“Define big boy things.”

“Raising an army.”

Jing Yuan suddenly stopped you, and you were forced to look at him.

“The man you were talking about that night… Is it Young?”

Your face paled. “Where... Where is this coming from?"

"Answer the question." You frowned, not fond of being ordered around. So, you walked around him until he said, " Being with him will only cause you pain and suffering.”

You stopped and you clenched your fists. “Leave me alone, Jing Yuan.” You didn’t bother masking the annoyance in your tone.

Jing Yuan watched you leave, knowing he was right.

“I don’t know how much you remember about… us. But, with each memory that comes back, I feel everything my past self once felt." Your eyes meet his, and he touches your arm. Dan Heng enters the room just as Jing Yuan says, “It’s true. I was in love with you back then.”

You smile coldly. “Is this how you beg for forgiveness?” Then, you hear Dan Heng say your name, and you quickly turn to the door and see him slowly walking towards you. “How… why are you here?”

Once he’s by your side, he puts a hand on your shoulder.

"Let him go, Cupid," Nanook says.

From the look on Dan Heng’s face, you know he’s thinking the same. The red in your eyes turns darker as you say, “Aren’t you angry? He killed you. He—”

“I am.” Dan Heng looks at Jing Yuan who has gone limp. “But if we kill him, it won’t help us.” Dan Heng puts his hand on your wrist that’s stained with Jing Yuan’s blood. “Jing Yuan met Young before.”

“I know,” you say, glaring at Jing Yuan. “He threatened him for information on black magic.”

“It wasn’t about that,” Dan Heng says, putting an arm around you. “Let him go, and I’ll explain.”

There’s a short silence before you reluctantly pull your hand out, and the sound of ripping flesh fills the room. Jing Yuan almost falls lifelessly to the floor if not for Nanook.

“Did I miss a massacre?”

Nanook frowns at the familiar face. “I have to wonder if you planned this, Lan. Way to show up after Cupid almost murdered a man.” Lan’s eyes immediately land on Jing Yuan’s gaping wound in his chest. “Small wound. No biggie.”

“He’ll live,” you say when Lan comes to examine the damage. “The wound will close on its own.”

After Nanook lays Jing Yuan on the couch, he turns around with his hands on his hips. “All right, Lover Reincarnate, time for you to explain. What’re you talking about?”

Dan Heng looks at you. “It was about Young’s mother.”

The sun had just set over the horizon, the sky a fiery red with hues of orange. It was as if the world was on fire. Young stood in a forest clearing, his hands behind his back. His eyes opened, sensing a presence in the shadows of the trees behind him. He didn’t need to turn to see who it was.

“Heir to the Middle Kingdom..." Young turned around and saw Jing Yuan, his golden eyes looking at him as if he were prey about to be devoured. With open arms, Jing Yuan said, "It's a pleasure."

Young took out a note from inside his hanfu. With a flick of his wrist, the note flew toward the ground until one of its corners became stuck in the dirt. “...Get on with it.” As Jing Yuan walked toward him, he purposely stepped on the note, and it instantly crumbled into ashes. “How do you know my mother?”

Jing Yuan looked down and smiled. Young narrowed his eyes. “Tell me, Young. Was your mother ever happy with your father?”

The last thing he wanted was to play mind games with an armed general. However, if that was what Jing Yuan wanted… Young could deliver.

“Why would a general be so interested in the relationships of others? Surely, you have more pressing things on your mind.”

Jing Yuan met his eyes with a cold stare. “...You mean like the woman you’re in love with? The Princess of the North?” Young’s gaze hardened as Jing Yuan chuckled. “Since I’m such a nice person, let me be the first to tell you.” He smiled, though his eyes said a different story. “We’re about to be engaged.”

The brief shock was enough to amuse the general.

“Of course… she doesn’t know that yet, but it’s a done deal with her parents.” Jing Yuan’s smile vanished. “I won’t tell them about you. Don’t worry… but in return, stay away from her.”

"I’m here to talk about my mother.”

“A human with one of your kind… It’s a forbidden romance for the books,” Jing Yuan said. “If she never mentioned me, I don’t see why I have to enlighten you.” Suddenly, he appeared in front of Young. “If you truly love the princess, you’ll let her go. Or… do you want her to end up like your pitiful mother?”

“Whoa, whoa,” Nanook says, raising a brow. “End up like your pitiful mother? Am I the only one who’s lost?”

“When did you see this?” Lan asks.

“It happened on my way here,” Dan Heng says.

Nanook sighs as he gives Jing Yuan a deadpan look. Then, he looks at you. “Y’know… maybe General Prettyboy genuinely liked you. If he was truly only after revenge and all that shit, he wouldn’t have told Young to stay away from you.”

“Regardless,” Lan says, “we know that Jing Yuan knew Young’s mother.”

“Yeah, but what was their relationship?” Nanook asks. Then, after a sarcastic chuckle, “Don’t tell me Jing Yuan is also her son.”

The silence drags on… and on… and on…

Nanook looks at the faces in the room. “Guys, c’mon. Like… there’s no way… Right?” When no one still says anything, the god says, “Right?”

"If he was…” you say, “Then who was the father?”

◆◆◆

Jing Yuan was five years old when he first used a knife on himself. He took the blade with trembling hands and looked up at the adults who were looking at him with a hard, pressuring stare.

“...Do it,” one of them said. “If you don’t, you’ll never fit in with the humans.” Jing Yuan didn’t understand. He was human, right? Well, his appearance said otherwise. One of the adults held a mirror to Jing Yuan’s face. “Look at yourself. You aren’t human. No human has horns.”

Jing Yuan gripped the blade tighter. If he wasn’t human, who was he? Why was he different? Nothing made sense. His emotions ran wild as he raised the knife to his head. He’ll think about it later. He’ll understand later. For now, he just had to appease the adults who were so kind to take him in. He had nowhere else to go.

One cut. He screamed. Two cuts. Tears began to fall. Three cuts. Then, came the smell of blood.

"Keep going."

That was the first out of the many nights Jing Yuan severed a part of himself to survive.

“...They? Who’s they?”

Jing Yuan can faintly hear Nanook’s voice. A sharp pain shoots through Jing Yuan’s chest as his consciousness slowly returns.

“No idea,” Lan says. “If it’s true Jing Yuan and Dan Heng are half brothers, Jing Yuan’s father had to be human. They took away the life he could’ve had… that was what Caelus said. Considering the political rivalry and tensions, I wouldn’t be surprised if Cupid’s parents were involved in what happened to Jing Yuan.”

“Good Lord. Then that means whoever Jing Yuan’s father is, he must be one important motherfucker.” Nanook, who’s standing behind the couch Jing Yuan is resting on, looks down at the general who has fully regained consciousness. “Careful there, General Prettyboy. You still have an obvious hole in your chest.”

Jing Yuan groans as Lan walks over. “...I’m going to kill her.”

Nanook laughs. “Who? Cupid? Yeah, good luck.”

“You’ll be bedbound for a while,” Lan says. “It's going to take some time to heal.”

Jing Yuan glares at him. “And there’s absolutely no way to make it heal faster?”

“I mean… You could try walking into a hospital,” Nanook says. “But I'm sure the only reaction you’ll get is screams and not the good kind.”

Jing Yuan sighs. “I... wasn’t fully human.” Nanook and Lan glance at each other. “I had horns, and... I saw myself cutting them off, for fuck sake."

“Geezus… Those things grow back, you know.”

“Is that how you found out about the concealment spell?” Lan asks.

Jing Yuan puts a hand on his forehead as a migraine hits. “The what?”

“Have a heart, would you, Lan? Prettyboy looks like he’s going to pass out again. This can wait.”

“Hey.” The gods turn to Jing Yuan who looks exhausted. “When you see Dan Heng and Cupid, give them a message for me.”

“Don’t tell me it’s a declaration of war.” Lan gives Nanook a deadpan look. Nanook turns and asks, “What?”

Then, sincerely, Jing Yuan says, “Tell them that I’m sorry.”

“Huh… wasn’t expecting that.”

“But…” Jing Yuan looks at the hole in his chest. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to let her get away with this. God or not, she’s taking responsibility.”

“Look, we know you’d rather have Cupid be your lil maid and all, but that’s out of the question. She’ll kill you before you can ask for painkillers, which I guess is an effective painkiller, actually."

Jing Yuan scoffs. “Then, I guess she will continue serving her sentence.”

"We'll pass on the message," Lan says before Nanook can say anything else.

And the gods are gone.

◆◆◆

On the Astral Express, Nanook and Lan are walking in the corridor when the god of destruction asks, “Were you thinking Jing Yuan used a concealment spell to eventually hide his horns?”

“It’s not just that. He likely also used it to hide Young’s execution.”

“Ah, the wonders of black magic,” Nanook says with a satisfied smile. “But, even if Jing Yuan wasn’t fully human, there’s no way he could carry that out alone. The scale is too large.”

“...His mother.”

“Young’s mother?”

Lan nods. “She’s the only one who’s capable of this. She wasn’t human, and they had much more knowledge of magic than humans during that time.”

“Yeah… but why kill her son? The one she loved?” Nanook asks. “Sounds like she just left poor Prettyboy to die, but he pulls an Uno reverse card and ends up being your classic character of a rags-to-riches story. Why would she help him?”

Lan looks at Nanook. “Just my speculation… but Jing Yuan probably tricked her.”

“He tricked her…? So... she thought she was hiding someone else’s execution?”

“Three guesses who.”

“Oh, for the love of God…”

“It would explain why Dan Heng’s mother was cursed.”

Before Nanook can respond, they hear a familiar voice. Idrila is walking towards them; she frowns at Nanook.

“Where have you been?” she asks.

“...Around.”

She sighs, “Poking your nose into Cupid’s business, no doubt.”

“He’s been quite useful,” Lan says. “...Surprisingly.”

Then, as if proud of himself, Nanook says, “Anything for my girl, Cupid.”

“Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”

Nanook’s heart drops at the male voice. Then, he quickly turns to Idrila. “What is he doing here?”

“Vacationing,” the man says, emerging from the shadows. “Idrila has been such a dear to show me around.”

“Right.” Nanook crosses his arms. “Is Hell getting too hot for you, Sampo?"

"What do the humans call it? Ah, right. Global warming. It's even reaching the depths of Hell, it seems." Sampo smiles. "Thought I'd come up and take a nice, chill break with my good friends. But one of them isn't around... Word has it Cupid's doing a job with Pom."

Lan raises a brow. "You met Cupid?"

"She probably doesn't remember me, though. But we go back... a very long time."

“Sampo's here for a reason.”

The sound of heels makes Nanook and Lan turn around. Nanook crosses his arms. “Don’t tell me you called him here, Himeko.”

“I did.”

Lan glances at the mercenary of death. “What does he have to do with Cupid?”

“It’s only a matter of time before she gets all of her memories back,” Himeko says. “...Including the reason why she is who she is.”

“Um… is it just me, or why does this sound ominous?” Idrila asks.

“Because she’ll be forced with a choice,” Sampo says. “And it's my job to carry out her wishes.” He swings an arm around Nanook. “But, as it's not a job I can do right away, I'll be here with popcorn and watching this drama unfold until it's my time to shine."

Nanook scoffs. “Sounds like a great vacation.”

"Isn't it?"

“Did you know… all this time?” Lan asks Himeko. “About what will eventually happen to Cupid?”

“Not entirely. She still has some free will, so to speak. Her punishment is coming to an end. There’s no need to prolong it longer than it needs to be.”

“Punishment?" Idrila asks as the gods exchange a confused look. "Erm, anyway... We’ll still get to see her, right? Like… no matter what choice she makes?”

The silence tells her everything she needs to know.

Chapter 20

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @tanspostsblog @theprinceofkhaos @nqctre @lunavixia @akwardbiscuit @hiqhkey @n8mareee @sunsethw4 @kplatzman

#dan heng honkai star rail #honkai dan heng #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng #danheng x you #danheng x reader #danheng #honkai star rail dan heng

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oh-austin · 2 years

Text

going method, part one (austin butler)

summary: you're playing priscilla presley in the new elvis biopic, when your co-star asks you if you would like to date him during the filming of the movie to better understand elvis and priscilla's relationship.

word count: 2,637

authors note / warnings: no warnings! this is the first part of 'going method', I hope you all like it!! I already love it and I can't wait to keep writing this for you all <3

series masterlist / next part

────── ∘◦❀◦∘

It wasn't completely a crazy idea, actors and actresses had gone to greater lengths before to ensure greatness. However crazy it would sound to other people, it wasn't to you. This was your job, you got paid to give a great performance and sometimes, those great performances required more practice than just running lines.

Finding out you landed the role of Priscilla Presley was monumental, not only for you personally, but your career. This film would be your make or break moment, you needed to get it right. You were fortunate to be sharing the screen with another actor who felt the exact same as you, even more so.

Austin Butler was a name you had heard throughout your years in Hollywood, but it was never attached to a name as big as Elvis Presley. But here he was, dyed jet black hair and a southern drawl that he wouldn't lose if it killed him. He was dedicated to this film, more than any other actor you had worked with previously.

You were grateful to share the same philosophies as Austin, that this film was yours to perfect and you needed to do Elvis and Priscilla justice. You were going to create art.

That was the conclusion the two of you had come to during your first week of production. When you first met Austin, you never thought this would be a conversation that the two of you would have- however, life likes to surprise people.

You sat across from Austin's blue eyes, a piece of paper sat in front of you and your favourite pen in hand. Due to your mutual dedication to this film, the two of you had create an agreement.

The two of you would date during the production of the film, to ensure you both captured Elvis and Priscilla's relationship as best you could.

"You know we could probably do this without drawing up a contract, right?" Austin's voice was deep, husky. He had already encapsulated Elvis' aura. You knew that he was a natural blonde, the first cast meeting you went to- his sandy curls were unruly and beautiful. But the black hair that now sat un-styled on his head only showcased how similar he looked to Elvis.

"I like writing things down," You argued, underlining the heading you had already written, "Now, ground rules. Are we keeping it private? or showcasing it on social media?"

"I think we could keep it private, just a thing for the two of us," Austin nodded, his head was tilted slightly. He looked like a puppy, endearing almost. "Okay, no seeing other people during filming," Austin reached for your pen. His hand brushed against yours as he grabbed it from you.

You watched as he slid the paper back to his side of the table and wrote down what he said. You smiled, "Do we get a free pass? Because if Zac Efron walks through that door, we might have to call this off,"

"You know," Austin smirked up at you, "I have connections to him, so if you ever need me to make that happen, let me know,"

The two of you sat together for the next ten minutes, spitting out random clauses and rules to follow.

Only close friends can know If you share a bed, you sleep on the left side, Austin on the right No Elvis voice past 6pm unless on set

Towards the end, you already felt more comfortable with Austin than you had when you arrived on set. You weren't filming any scenes today, your call sheet empty until 7am the next day. Austin on the other hand, his call sheet was always full, hours on hours of filming. You knew you would have to wrap up your little meeting in the next few minutes so he could get to wardrobe on time.

"Alright," Austin quickly signed the bottom of the paper, "Sign here please,"

You shook your head, quick laughs expelling from your nose as you took your pen back. You wrote your signature next to his. "It's official," You looked up at him, "We're dating,"

"I expect presents monthly for our anniversary," He stood up, checking his watch, "Okay, I gotta run-" He leant over the table towards you and placed a kiss on your cheek, "There's one kiss out of the way," He stood up straight with a soft smile on his face, before heading off to wardrobe.

"Don't act like it's a chore!" You shouted after him laughing. It wasn't the first time you had done method acting, but it was sure going to be the most interesting.

─── ∘◦❀◦∘

Over the next week, you and Austin were trying your best to act more like a couple- not only in private, but in front of people too. Your idea was that if you could do it on screen, you could do it on set too.

Austin was shaping up to be quite the boyfriend. In the morning when he arrive on set, you often weren't there yet- majority of your call times later than his. But as the morning coffee orders came around- he would always order you something. He wasn't sure of what you liked, so he would try to change it up now and then.

When you arrived on set each day, there was a hot coffee waiting for you in your trailer. You asked your assistant the first time it happened, but she didn't know how it got there either. It wasn't until you saw Austin in between his takes that he mentioned it.

"Did you get your coffee?" He asked. He was dressed in the white suit for the 'If I Could Dream' sequence of the 68 comeback sequence. You had just come from wardrobe, your hair styled ready for your part of the scene. "Hair looks amazing, Mamas" Austin came over and placed another kiss on your cheek, this time you did the same. He was a little sweaty, but you didn't mind.

"I did get my coffee," You smiled, "That was you?"

"Was it still hot? Asked the runners to have it ready for you when you showed up," He admitted, one of the makeup artists pat his face dry from the sweat before fixing his tan complexion.

"It was," You laughed, "Thank you, I appreciate it,"

"S'alright," He shook his head. You noticed how much more prominent the southern drawl was when he was in costume. Maybe being so dressed up connected Austin to Elvis on a whole new level.

"Okay, let's get everyone in for this next take, we'll have B-roll getting Tom and Y/N and everyone else," Baz didn't look up from his script as he addressed everyone, "Austin ready for another one?"

"Always ready," He called back. The scene was shot a few times, recapturing certain positions and movements. But each time Austin sang 'If I Could Dream' it was still just as magic as the first. You were astounded by him. You knew that he had to be good to pull off such a big role, but watching him stand only a few feet away singing such a powerful song- was almost an out of body experience.

Austin didn't sing to be Elvis, Austin sang for Elvis.

Austin was eventually given a small break whilst you shot some scenes up in the production booth with Dacre and Tom. You were mostly sat in the background for these shots, so they were easy to shoot. In between takes, as Baz spoke with Dacre, you called over your assistant, Maisie, and spoke quietly to her as to not interrupt anyone. Maisie pulled a small notepad from her pocket and passed it to you. Maisie smiled while taking it back after you wrote in it and walked off ready to fulfil your request.

As you were filming your scenes, Austin was talking to one of the producers. He saw your assistant quickly walking past him, he wondered if you were alright. He finished up his conversation before going back to wardrobe to get changed for his next scene.

Once he was in a blue lace shirt, he quickly rushed to his trailer to grab his water bottle. When Austin opened the door to his trailer, he found a plastic bowl with a lid sitting on top of the vanity. A note was stuck to it.

Even the king needs to eat! Love, your favourite fake girlfriend

Austin swore he felt his heartbeat stop. You had gone out of your way to make sure he had eaten something during his busy day, you really were the best. Leaving his trailer with his food in hand, he headed off towards the soundstage and saw you in deep conversation with Baz.

You looked so beautiful, even with the big hair and makeup- he could still see the real you. He was very lucky to be cast with you, grateful for your already blossoming friendship. As you spoke with Baz, Austin caught your eye. He held up the bowl and winked at you as a thank you. You sent him a sweet smile in return.

Maybe you were both good for each other- fake or not.

─── ∘◦❀◦∘

At the end of your first week of filming together, you and Austin had fallen into a routine. He would organise your coffee for when you arrived to set, you would ensure he had ate an entire meal and at least one snack throughout his day. It was a good plan you had going.

People on set had grown more accustomed to seeing Austin kissing you on the cheek or you giving him a peck in scenes when it wasn't scripted. They were in awe of your professionalism and dedication to your roles, on and off screen.

Of course, after a twelve hour day of shooting, you were ready to go home. You couldn't even imagine how tired Austin was. You hadn't seen him over the last hour, you were running through a scene with Maisie whilst he finished up shooting. By the time you were finished, they had wrapped up filming for the night.

It was a summer storm in Queensland that night, it was pouring rain and freezing. The walk to your car didn't seem appealing in the slightest, but you reminded yourself of how comfortable the bed is in the apartment the studio provided you with.

You quickly rushed your way through the parking lot and to your car, unlocking it and getting in. However, you didn't make it far. As your car's right tire fell into a pothole, your ears were met with a loud pop!

"No, no, no, no" You muttered as the car began to tilt slightly. You cursed as you tried your best to pull off to the side of the road. You put your hazard lights on, as you got out of the car and crouched down next to the wheel.

It hadn't popped, it had been torn open by the hole in the road. You almost felt like laying on the road and letting the rain take you, but you quickly tried to think on your feet. The spare tire and jack were in the back of the car, but you didn't know how to change a tire. You pulled your phone out and tried to think of who to call, if a mechanic would come at eleven o'clock on a Sunday night just to change a tire.

The road beneath you lit up with a yellow hue, your shadow being cast on the ground. "Y/N!" You turned around to see Austin getting out of his studio-loaned car, his Carhatt jacket over his head sheltering him from the rain.

You silently thanked the Gods above that you wouldn't have to find some business to call and save you, instead your knight in shining amour came with black hair and blue eyes.

"What're you doing out here?" Austin stood so close to you, you could feel his breath on your head- he crouched slightly because of the height difference.

"My tire popped, I need to call someone to change it," You admitted, your voices slightly raised to be heard over the storm.

Austin paused, "You can't change a tire?" He asked dumbfounded.

"Not the time! I need to get home," You whined, "Ridicule me later,"

"You're soaked," Austin took in your wet hair and your white t-shirt that had become increasingly see-through. He avoided looking at your chest the best he could. "Go get in my car, the heat's on," He mostly sheltered you with the jacket, the rain droplets falling down his back.

"What?" You asked, Austin was trying his best to shift the jacket into your arms.

"I'll change the tire, you go get warm in the car," He still sounded like Elvis, not as much as when they were filming- but the man had obviously inhabited Austin's soul, you couldn't blame him.

"Thank you," You said, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine, it'll take me five minutes okay?" Austin swore, "Please go sit in the warm,"

You quickly nodded and ran back over to Austin's car. Sitting in the driver's seat, you put your hands in front of the air conditioning- the warm air heating up your cold, wet skin. You watched as Austin stood in front of the trunk of the car and pulled up the mat.

Austin, always true to his word, took only five minutes to change the tire and put everything away- it was incredibly impressive. He sprinted back over to his car and got in the passenger seat.

"Okay, it's fixed," His breaths were heavy from being out in the cold. You quickly draped his jacket over his back the best you could.

"You need to get out of those clothes, do you have spares in here?" You turned around to check the backseat, but came back empty. "Austin, you'll get sick," You told him. Austin seemed almost amused by your worry for him.

"I'll be alright," He assured you, "I promise I'll get changed when I get home, okay?"

You hesitated in your response. "Promise?" You held your pinky finger up to him.

"Of course," He interlocked his with yours, "Do you still need me? Did you want to sit for a while?" Austin asked. He thought about if you were shaken up from the tire popping, worried about you driving home in the pouring rain.

"I'm okay," You told him with a nod, "What's your call time tomorrow?"

"I start at nine," Austin told you, "When are you in?"

"I have tomorrow off until seven, we're doing Priscilla's first scene," You smiled, "But I might be there early,"

"Why?" Austin's hair was wet against his face, stuck to his tan skin.

"To make sure you have dinner," You laughed at him, "Without me you'd starve,"

"You're probably right," Austin sighed with a smile. He leant back in the passenger seat. "So I'll see you later tomorrow?"

"Yeah," You nodded with a small voice. The silence between you both was comfortable and warm. "Please get changed when you get back home,"

"I will!" Austin shook his head, "I promised, didn't I?"

"Yes, so you better not break it," You pointed at him, your elbow resting on the centre console.

"Wouldn't dream of it, mamas" Even as his friend, you could see that Austin really was intoxicating.

You both said your goodbyes and Austin watched as you hurried back to your car in the rain. He made sure you drove off safely before switching over to the drivers seat.

When Austin arrived back at his apartment, he made sure to get changed straight away- just like he promised. He couldn't break a promise, especially not one made with you.

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler one shot #austin butler x reader #Austin Butler series #ab going method #austin butler drabble #austin butler fluff #elvis 2022 #celeste writes fics

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spreadyovrwings · 3 months

Text

64 Oslo Square

"Companion' Middle English. From Old French ‘compaignon', literally 'one who breaks bread with another.

Strapped for cash, John gets a job at a bakery as their new delivery boy. Juggling school and Queen and work is exhausting, but it’s more than worth it. It's worth it because of you.

Warnings for this chapter: obscene flirting... characters realising their life has more to it than their job? other characters learning other people aren't quite so scary and can be trusted? those two characters fancying each other like crazy? yeah.

Chapter Nine

Steam billowed from the kettle’s spout. You watched it swell and curl through the air, until it hit the low kitchen ceiling and dispersed. On the mantelpiece, your grandmother’s carriage clock chimed ten.

It was the longest you’d been able to sleep in in years. Though you’d been trying to cast your mind back all morning as you set about making breakfast, you couldn’t recall the last time you’d been able to go to bed without setting an alarm.

Though the days were growing steadily warmer as summer rolled in, mornings were still cold in your little flat. You tucked your chin under the collar of your thick woollen jumper and puffed out a breath to warm your body.

It had not been a good week.

It’s difficult to anticipate how one might react in a situation like yours. You thought if someone had asked you a few months ago what you might say if given life-altering news like the kind Gladys had given you, you probably would’ve said you’d rage and eff and blind until the problem righted itself. You’d go out fighting, at least. But when Gladys set off her grenade, you didn’t say a word. You just stared at her. You stared and stared, and stared some more.

It didn’t take long for you to find your voice, though. Not after Gladys started to describe the whole ordeal. She couldn’t seem to get the words out fast enough, it was like watching someone in confession. Her open mouth was like a gutter, gushing words and apologies and useless explanations until finally, you couldn’t take anymore.

“You selfish cow!”

John came into the room when the shouting started. Mickey was close behind. One of them put a hand on your shoulder, it must have been Mickey because the hand was heavy and solid like a slab of concrete.

“Skip…”

John slipped his fingers between yours, trying to bring you back down to Earth, but you barely felt him.

“How could you do this to us? To Mickey? To me?”

Gladys covered her face with her hands, her chunky rings glinting in the low lights.

“I’m sorry!”

“He’s just had a baby!”

“I know, I know-”

“This is my home!”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m- I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t think in a million years he would-”

You stopped listening. John was murmuring close to your ear, telling you to stop now. His long fingers were wrapped tight around yours, keeping you grounded but only just.

“Sweetheart, leave her,” he murmured. “You should get some air. Just come with me and breathe for a second. Please.”

But that didn’t sound like a reasonable option either. You didn’t want to go outside. You didn’t want to keep having this conversation either. Standing here, shouting at Gladys, that was the only thing that made sense.

“How could you be so stupid.”

The words barely made it out from between your gritted teeth.

You felt John’s hand leave yours. Mickey too took a step back. They both seemed to realise this wasn’t their fight, this wasn’t something they had a right to be involved in, even though they were grieving too.

Gladys was the brightest, most joyous person you knew. She flitted from person to person like a hummingbird. With her brightly coloured hair and her clattering jewellery, she was as dazzling on the outside as she was on the inside. But right now, she seemed to have shrunk a few inches. Her colour had dulled. Her light had gone out.

“I just thought he was interested in me,” Gladys looked down at the floor, ashamed. “No one’s ever been interested in me. And he seemed so eager to learn about the bakery and I thought- I thought maybe he was just proud of me. For building this place. For doing something so amazing on my own. But I was wrong.”

You could still feel your pulse pounding in your neck and the base of your skull. You couldn’t recall ever feeling so angry and let down in all your life. Time seemed to be rushing by you, and all you wanted was for John to hold your hand again.

Gladys still couldn’t look at you. In a way, you were relieved. You didn’t think you’d be able to meet her gaze either.

It was difficult to order the feelings surging through you. You loved Gladys. You owed her so much. You’d do anything for her and until today, you would have sworn she’d always put you, or at least Oslo Square, above all else. Despite everything, she was a good person. You knew that. She was enticing and gregarious and too trusting and a fool. And she had let you down for the last time.

“I will never forgive you for this,” you said, then turned and walked into the kitchen, through the back door and out into the alley.

But you didn’t get far. You never would.

Sinking down on the bakery’s back step, you folded your knees up to your body and prayed the pressure would take the ache away. It didn’t. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sob that lay in wait in the back of your throat.

Sun filtered through into the alleyway, falling on the ground in puddles of light. Above you, the sky was so clear, there wasn’t a cloud in sight. And you just wanted to cry and cry and cry.

There was a sound behind you, the scuff of a boot against the cement steps. You pushed your face into your crossed arms, not ready to face anyone just yet.

“Skip?”

It was John. Of course it was. Who else would they send after you?

He called you by your nickname again, then as he came to sit beside you, your real name, softer, more intimate.

Finally, you raised your head.

He was looking at you closely, his clever eyes switching across your face. He was trying to work out how upset you were, how carefully he needed to tread around you. That was just his way, John was just being a good friend, but right now, you didn't want kindness and gentleness, you just wanted to be left alone.

“John, I think maybe…”

“It’s going to be alright.”

It wasn’t like him to interrupt. Usually, John weighed every word with care, as if each syllable would cost him a great deal, or he had a finite number at his disposal. You had always admired that about him; everyone else in your life spoke so carelessly, like it didn't matter at all.

“John…”

“C’mon,” he said, nodding now, like he’d made up his mind about something. “Let’s go upstairs. We’ll have a cuppa and we’ll-”

You wrapped a hand around his arm and squeezed gently, asking him to stop without a word. John looked so crestfallen, you couldn’t bear it.

You stood up, crossing your arms over your chest, as if it would help to keep the sickness sitting in your throat at bay.

“I think maybe you should go home,” you said as gently as you could. “I’ll call you later. Okay?”

John looked surprised, then a little hurt. It shouldn’t have annoyed you but it did a little. He had no idea what you were going through, he should just listen and know that when you said you needed some time, you meant it.

But the small part of your brain that could still think clearly knew that wasn’t fair. If the roles were reversed, as they had been before, you knew you would badger John relentlessly until he was forced to talk about whatever was bothering him. But this wasn’t about an exam or a tiff with his band, this was your whole life, your whole future, and it had wrenched from your grasp without you even knowing it

“Okay.” John slowly rose to his feet, his hands awkwardly moving from his pockets to his hips, behind his back and then to his pockets again. “I’ll come see you. Later.”

You nodded, your lips pulled back in a grim smile.

“I’ll call you,” you said again firmly.

For a moment, John didn’t move, he didn’t even blink. Then finally, he seemed to get the message.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Just… Be careful with yourself, darling.”

Then he was gone and you were alone again.

That was two days ago. You hadn’t left your lonely flat since.

You poured boiling water into your favourite mug, waited a few minutes, then added the milk. Your movements were robotic, rehearsed, the habit of a lifetime that required no thought at all, and thank God, as you didn’t have the energy to think or feel much of anything.

The phone rang again but you didn’t even spare it a glance as you padded back to your bedroom and closed the door.

Life went on like this for a few more days before finally, you decided to pull yourself together. You got dressed, headed downstairs, and debated whether or not to turn on the ovens.

Mickey hadn’t come into work since the news. You couldn’t blame him, he had a baby at home and a wife to reassure. You had no one. Just an empty flat and a cold, silent bakery. But even that wasn’t yours anymore. Mickey phoned often enough though, asking if there were any updates and if he could do anything to help. You wished you had something to tell him.

You looked around at the old kitchen. The multicoloured tiles from renovation after renovation, the cookers and the ovens, all older than half the buildings on the road, the pots and pans, bowls and utensils, all lying unused. They seemed to stare at you, waiting for answers, just like Mickey, just like the customers you watched from your window, who passed by every day and soon left again, looking disappointed and confused.

Yeah, you thought, me too.

You grabbed some paper from behind the till, scribble a quick note, then sellotaped it to the door.

Closed until further notice.

You stared at the sign, letting the words truly sink in, then turned and went to go hide yourself away upstairs.

Then the door chimed.

“Skip?”

You looked up, heart pounding. It had only been a few days, but it was the longest you’d gone without seeing John for the best part of a year.

You’d somehow forgotten how tall he was, how lanky and gangly he looked standing in the bakery doorway, his perfect, long hair a striking contrast to his shabby clothes.

He smiled at you, shy and unsure, and you wished you could do more than stare back.

“Hi,” John said as he carefully pushed open the door all the way and finally stepped inside.

As the door rang shut again, you gritted your teeth. You thought if he’d asked, if he’d given you the choice, you probably would’ve said that now wasn’t a good time and he should come back later.

“Hi,” you said instead, and watched him pocket the key Gladys had given him on his first day.

John looked at you like he was waiting for you to say more. You couldn’t blame him for that. You’d led every conversation you’d ever shared, guiding him and teasing him, wheedling information out of him with a fine hook. Now, you couldn’t for the life of you think of anything to say.

“You haven’t been answering the phone,” John said eventually. “I was worried.”

He cautiously approached the desk. Perhaps he’d only just noticed the thick tension in the air, or maybe he was just having trouble pushing through it, but he seemed to take careful steps, his eyes fixed on you.

“Well,” You tried not to sound huffy but it came out all wrong. “I’m kind of dealing with something right now. I don’t have time for…”

“What?”

He was challenging you, daring you to say more. You clammed up, feeling chastised.

“Did you talk to Gladys?”

You nodded.

You’d spent the last few days in meetings with your boss, discussing what had happened, trying to figure a way out of this mess, going over the details and again and again until you were both exhausted and resigned to the idea that this place was no longer yours. Everything that Gladys had built, everything you’d worked for, was gone.

“What did she say? What’s going on?”

John came closer until he could rest his hands on the counter. You stared at them, following the outline of each of his long fingers.

He really did have such lovely hands. The round onyx ring he wore on his little finger, the silver one he always took off and pocketed when he was helping out, because it was Freddie’s and he didn’t want to ruin it. The little scars from his childhood and faded burns from mucking about with machines. You’d missed them.

“Did you fix it?”

You pressed your lips together and shook your head.

“No.”

At home, you blankly stared at the ceiling, at the television screen, into the mirror. It had slowly begun to dawn on you that outside of 64 Oslo Square, you had nothing. Friends you saw once in a blue moon, no hobbies, no interests, no idea of what the future would hold. Everything, you’d put everything into the bakery, your whole life. In just a few weeks, you’d even have to find a new flat. Everything was falling apart.

“There has to be something we can do. She’s made a mistake.”

“I know.”

“C’mon, love. We can sort this out.”

It was too much. It was just all too much. You didn’t want to hear positivity and hopefulness, you didn’t want anyone to be kind to you, especially John, not after the way you’d pushed him away. You didn’t want gentleness and softness, because it meant he thought something had happened to warrant that care, and you didn’t want to be someone who needed looking after. You didn’t want to be someone that had had something so awful happen to them.

“I can’t do this.”

You pushed away from the counter and moved into the kitchen, heading for the door to your flat. All you wanted was to crawl back into bed and shut out the world. Compartmentalism had got you nowhere, not when one of the best things about your job had turned up out of the blue asking you a million questions and caring about you far more than you deserved.

You didn’t expect John to follow you, but you heard his boots clunking against the kitchen floor, his voice soft and low as he called out again,

“Skip?”

You bit back a sob. You weren’t Skip anymore. You weren’t the captain of anything. You had no bakery, no business, no prospects, you were just- You were nothing.

“Leave me alone.”

You tried to sound forceful but the words got caught in your throat.

“Love, please-”

John was right behind you as you wrenched open the door up to your flat. You could hear his stupid boots on the stairs.

“John, I can’t-”

“Just talk to me.”

“You don’t understand!”

You stopped in the middle of the stairs and span around. It must have taken John by surprise because he staggered to a halt, one foot hanging in midair, as if he’d been in the middle of a step.

“In a month, I won’t have a home or a job, and this place will be packed up and turned into luxury flats or some half-arsed storefront selling overpriced street food to bastards like him, and I won’t have anything.”

It was as if someone else was doing the talking. You could almost believe you were standing beside yourself, watching as you shouted at John, your eyes shining and your jaw tight. You wanted to tell yourself to stop, that he didn’t deserve to be talked to like that, but you couldn’t close the floodgates.

“And you, you’ll swan off with your band or pack it in and become an engineer, and you’ll forget all about us and this place, and I’ll never see you again.”

John’s eyes flashed but his expression was as neutral and measured as ever.

“That’s not going to happen,” he said evenly. “You really think that little of me?”

“Oh, shut up, I was only-”

“Don’t tell me to shut up. You don’t get to decide how much I care about something. Alright?”

“Why would you care? You’re just the delivery boy. Some student Gladys took pity on cos she can’t resist strays.”

“I love this place too, you know I do. Things aren’t as easy for me as you think.”

You scoffed. It annoyed you that he could be so rational and calm at a time like this, when all you wanted to do was shout and accuse and lash out.

“Oh, poor John. It must be so hard for you, being a genius and having to choose between being rich and famous and being a bloody rocket scientist, or whatever the fuck it is you do. Life must be so difficult.”

Finally, John scowled. He moved closer, so now he was on the step just below yours, your faces level for the first time.

“You don’t know anything about my life.”

“Not for lack of trying!”

“You’re so- I’ve given you more of myself than I’ve ever given anyone!”

“Oh, well lucky me.”

“God, you’re-”

“What?”

“You’re…”

John trailed off. He seemed to realise, at the same time as you, just how close you were to each other.

You waited, hardly daring to breathe. John was maybe a few inches away, his chin tilted up ever so slightly so that he could meet your gaze. His pretty, silvery green eyes were fixed on yours, as if to make a point. You were fighting the same urge, to not look down at his lips, angled so perfectly up towards you, it was enough to make your chest lurch.

Slowly, so slowly it was almost painful, you watched as John’s gaze finally slipped and he glanced down at your mouth. Surrender. You followed immediately, and felt time speed up again. You caught your breath. Your heart was hammering so hard, you were sure John must’ve been able to hear it, feel it.

John’s gaze dropped again and stayed for longer this time, very obviously debating something that terrified and excited you all at once. It was just a matter of who would give in first.

“We’re not going to kiss,” you whispered, not trusting your voice. “Not like…”

You made the mistake of letting your eyes fall to his lips again, one last time. They parted ever so slightly, an invitation, like he was asking you to give in and take what you’d been wanting for so long. You pressed your lips together and immediately regretted it. You’d given yourself away.

The corner of John’s mouth twitched up into a little smile.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured. “You said some horrible things to me.”

You pulled in a lungful of air and closed your eyes. The moment was gone, but it still took you a second or two to get your feet back on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” You rubbed your tired eyes, feeling guilty and ashamed and dizzy all at once. “I was being stupid.”

John shrugged.

“Just because it was hurtful doesn’t mean it wasn’t accurate.”

“Still, I’m being an idiot. I’m sorry, John. It’s been a fucking awful week.”

He smiled to let you know he understood. Then his eyes dropped to your mouth again, just for a second, but you couldn’t have missed it.

“Not like what?” he asked softly.

“What?”

“You said ‘We’re not going to kiss. Not like…’. Not like what?” John raised his eyebrows. “Not like this, you mean?”

It hadn’t occurred to you that you’d spoken those words out loud. It was jarring to hear John repeat them back to you, and even more surprising to realise that’s exactly what you meant.

You nodded.

“Not like this.”

This wasn’t the right time, as much as it pained you. He was so close, looking up at you so sweetly, telling you how much he cared about you and that he just wanted to help. But John was right, you’d been horrible to him, and you were so sad you could barely breathe. When you did kiss him, you wanted it to be right, you wanted it to be good, you wanted to make the world stop turning.

John nodded, looking down at his ridiculous shoes. When he looked up again, his gaze still lingered antagonistically around your mouth. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

“When then?”

“What?”

“When can I kiss you?”

You couldn’t help it, you laughed.

“When you get me my bakery back.”

John grinned. He had such a lovely smile, so bright and honest.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Promise?”

John crossed his index finger over his heart.

“Promise.”

You beamed at each other. For a moment, it was as if nothing had changed, like nothing was wrong, or could ever be wrong. Because John was here and he was smiling at you, and he wanted to kiss you and knew you wanted to kiss him. But then reality slowly seeped in, harsh and so cold, it made you shiver.

“It’s hopeless, John,” you murmured, and pressed your face into your palms.

John wrapped his long fingers around your forearms and squeezed gently. When he carefully pulled your hands away from your face, you saw he was smiling sweetly.

“Shall I stick the kettle on?” he asked.

You’d never heard anything more romantic in your life.

You led him up the stairs to your flat and let him make you a cup of tea, while you sat on the sofa and watched him move around in the kitchen.

It was only tiny. Even ‘kitchen’ was a generous word, it was just the two sideboards, the hob and some cupboards set into the wall, but John moved around them as if he’d lived there all his life, and you were, once again, assured that he was fated to be 64 Oslo Square’s delivery boy.

“I was thinking about finding a flat. For after uni.” John handed you a mug and sat down beside you. “You could, um… Maybe I could start looking now and… You know, obviously we don’t know when things will… But I could look and…”

You blinked at him.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?”

John’s cheeks were tinged pink.

“I just want you to know you have options. I know you’re going to figure this out, but I want you to know you have somewhere safe to stay.”

Your chest squeezed as a wave of affection washed over you. How did you ever get so lucky? It was a small relief, in a way, to know that no matter what happened, you had a friend in John. The idea of moving into a flat together felt unreal right now. The more you pondered on it, the more the severity of your situation seemed to settle in.

“There’s nothing to figure out, John.” You sighed. “Gladys signed the paperwork. You know, she didn’t even really understand what she was signing? He got her drunk then pushed the papers across the table and told her he wanted to invest in the bakery, she just had to sign. Daft cow.”

“How’s Mickey taking it?”

“He’s alright. He’s a fantastic baker, he could find a job anywhere.”

“So could you.”

“I couldn’t.”

“You’re joking. Everything you make is incredible! And you’re passionate and you’re dedicated… You could find somewhere else. Maybe start your own place someday.”

You laughed softly, embarrassed by the compliment. His faith in you was flattering. No one had ever said anything like that to you before.

You reached out and took John’s hand, folding your fingers between his and interlocking them, as if you’d done it a million times before.

“You’re so sweet. But I can’t.” You squeezed his hand gently. “I started working here when I was sixteen. Have I told you that?”

John shook his head.

“I used to pass by on my way to school. Me and my friends would come in every Friday. And every day, Gladys was there, behind the counter. And she was mad and funny and she let us stay all afternoon, even though we only had enough money for a cuppa and a cake. And when I left school, there was one place I wanted to work.”

You looked up at the photo of you, Gladys and Mickey on your mantelpiece. Your tiny, ridiculous, mismatched family.

“I was just behind the counter at first, like you. But it was fun, it was a living. Then Shaz, the head baker back then, she started letting me help out. I loved it so much. The time things took. The attention to detail. The warmth of the kitchen. And it’s stressful but it’s full of love. You know? Everything we make is…”

You squeezed John’s hand again.

“When you see people smiling because of the things you make… It’s the best feeling in the world. I asked if I could start working as a baker and Gladys agreed, and even knocked a bit off the price of this place.”

Together, you looked around at your tiny flat. It wasn’t much but it was home, it was yours. You’d never had anything that was just yours before, and you couldn’t stress it enough, the importance of having space, having ownership, a room of one’s own, especially for a working class woman in 1973, especially for someone making it on their own.

“This is my home, John. And these people, they’re my family. I had nothing and the bakery gave me a purpose. I can’t just find somewhere else. I can’t. I can’t. It’s Oslo Square or nothing.”

John watched you for a moment, and you wondered if maybe you’d bored him with your outpouring. You wouldn’t be shocked. But then he raised your interlocked hands and held them to his chest.

“I’ll get it back for you. I promise.”

You laughed softly. He’d surprised you yet again.

“Where did you come from, New Boy? You really are an angel, aren’t you.”

“I don’t know about that.” John shyly glanced away. “The bakery means a lot to me too now. I want to help. If I can.”

Was it too early to revise your ‘no kissing’ policy? You really wanted to kiss him. Actually, kissing John would probably fix most of your problems. Or, at the very least, make them much easier to deal with. God, you could probably make him moan with just a kiss, you could tell from looking at him that he’d be a noisy one. Or maybe he’d lay you back on the couch and run those stupidly big hands all over you, playing you like one of his instruments. You wouldn’t mind that at all.

“Skip?”

You blinked. John was looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, sorry,” You gave him a wonky sort of a grin. “Just a bit tired, I think.”

John didn’t look like he believed you but he let you off the hook.

“I think you need to get out of the house.”

You had to agree. Aside from nipping to the shops for the essentials, you hadn’t left your flat since Gladys’ news.

“Where do you wanna go?”

“Well, actually,” John said guiltily. “I have to meet the lads at three. I wondered if you wanted to come.”

“To watch you rehearse?”

“It’ll probably be really boring for you, but you’ll get to see a few arguments. And we can get lunch first or dinner after or… I don’t mind, I just want you with me.” John blushed. “But you can say no, I didn’t mean to-”

You laughed softly. He really was the sweetest boy alive.

“I’d love to, John.”

That afternoon, Queen were rehearsing in a studio space in South London. John was tempted to grab the tube but you convinced him onto the bus, remembering, as you handed over your change to the driver, that he’d once admitted he was nervous about travelling that way. If he was going to be a proper Londoner, you thought, he had to learn how to use the buses, and the 49 seemed as good a place to start as any.

You watched John watch the world go by. He really was so beautiful and he had no clue. He had some semblance of an idea that he was alright, you knew that. The way John preened in front of every passing mirror told you so. But he didn’t see the lovely slope of his strong nose, or the way his grey eyes shone every time he saw something that piqued his interest, or the way his lovely, funny mouth twitched at the corners just before he was about to murmur something to you in that lovely, funny voice.

You’d tell him, you decided. Soon. You’d tell him just how beautiful you thought he was.

It was only when you followed John through the quiet, carpeted corridors of the recording studios that you began to feel nervous. You’d never been anywhere like that before, it was a foreign land.

As you passed, you peered through the porthole windows of every door to catch glimpses of steely grey microphones and mixing desks in big glass boxes. It was like something out of a film, something you’d only ever seen in magazines and photographs.

John seemed totally at ease. You supposed you were seeing him in his world for the first time. He would protest, he was a scientist, an engineer, he wasn’t a rockstar, but he was a musician, through and through. This world of dials and crossfades and endless electric cables suited him very well.

Eventually, he pushed open a door and held it open for you, gesturing for you to go in first.

The room was only small, probably all he and his friends could afford to hire by the hour. In the corner sat a shiny, black grand piano. Freddie tapped on the keys, humming under his breath as if building a tune just from a few plaintive notes. Next to that, there was a row of guitars all standing to attention, and a drum kit, steadily being put together to just the right requirements by Roger.

He looked up when the door opened.

“Hi, John. We were just saying-” Roger stopped in his tracks and immediately brightened when he saw you come in. “Bakery girl!”

“Hiya, Rog.”

You laughed as he came over to give you a big hug. It had been a while since you’d seen John, so it had been even longer since you saw his friends. You were sure Roger was only sweet to you because he knew it annoyed John but you were more than happy to play along.

John waited until Roger had gone back to his drum kit to stop frowning.

“Brian not here yet?” he asked, a little gruffly.

Freddie scoffed.

“He’s late. Again. He’s teaching somewhere in Balham. He’ll probably be hours, you know how he likes to bang on. You don’t play guitar, do you, love?”

You smiled shyly as Freddie also came over to greet you.

“No, sorry. Just the recorder in Year 3.”

“Ah, you’ll fit right in.”

Freddie beamed.

You didn’t know him as well as Roger but every time you saw Freddie, you practically tripped over yourself to befriend him. He was just so cool, so beautiful, his voice soft and his mannerisms so enchanting. He drew you in, just as he did the crowds when he was on stage, like a siren beckoning in beguiled ships.

“How are you doing?” Freddie held you by the shoulders as his soft dark eyes searched yours. “We’ve heard about this awful business with that twat. Andrew, was it?”

“Alastair.”

“That’s the bastard.” Freddie shook his head. “I’m so sorry, love.”

You wondered how much John had told them. By all accounts, he wasn’t the most talkative of people. In fact, you were still getting used to how much he spoke now. If you compared the boy standing beside you to the boy who first anxiously walked into the bakery that cold January night, you would almost say they were completely different people.

“Thanks, Freddie.”

“Are you staying?” asked Roger.

You glanced at John and he shot you an encouraging smile.

“If it’s okay with you lot?”

“Make yourself at home!”

You found a seat off to the side, just behind John’s amp.

You couldn’t help staring, transfixed, as he got himself set up. You could watch his hands forever, the way his fingers slipped over the strings, how the instrument fit perfectly against his body. Even watching him plug in his bass was mesmerising. It all just seemed to come so naturally to John, as most things did. He really was wonderful.

Queen warmed up slowly, giving Brian more time to turn up, and as they did, they passed ideas back and forth to each other. It was like a foreign language. Musical terms, notes, lyrics, pacing, you didn’t understand any of it, though you loved to listen to the boys figure it all out together.

For the most part, Freddie and Roger talked back and forth, while John watched, thumbing pensively at the thickest string of his bass as he waited to play. But you noticed how they never decided anything without consulting John for the final say, and his word seemed to be gospel.

John looked back at you over his shoulder and shot you a rare confident smile. You just had time to blush before the door opened and Brian fell in, apologising and shaking his head so that his wild, dark curls danced.

Brian waved to you but didn’t waste any time chatting. He grabbed his guitar and struck up a chord that filled the room with that familiar, quintessentially them sound.

They were magic to watch. You couldn’t wait to see what they became.

Soon, Freddie started to complain that he needed a drink to soothe his raw voice, and Roger and Brian went with him. They asked if you and John wanted anything but you both declined quickly, eager to be alone together again.

As soon as the door shut behind them, John turned to you properly and smiled. He nodded down at his bass, asking wordlessly if you’d like to try.

Grinning, you nodded too, and tried not to look too pleased as he ducked out of the strap. John gently lifted it over your head, and you tried to keep still as he settled the bass against you. You’d never held a bass guitar before. You hadn’t expected it to be so heavy.

“Oof, wow.”

You rolled your shoulders back, adjusting your posture so that you could balance its weight better.

“I know,” John’s hands skirted over your shoulders, making sure the strap was sitting comfortably first before he came round to stand in front of you. “I’ll have a terrible back when I’m an old man, I’m sure of it.”

Trying to remember how his hands moved when you watched him play, you lifted your left hand and pressed the tip of your index finger against the first metal string. It was thick and strong, and indented your skin as you pressed down. You couldn’t imagine how he managed to play so quickly, so deftly. The instrument seemed ungainly and oversensitive to you.

“You make it look so easy.”

John just smiled.

It was nice to see him in his element, to see him confident and sure of himself. He’d had once told you that he only picked up the bass because his first band needed it. You found it hard to believe, John and the bass, they seemed made for each other.

“You’ve almost got it. Here.”

You held your breath as John moved to stand behind you again. His left hand came up to cover yours, gently twisting your wrist around so that it was positioned nicely under the neck. With his other hand, he plucked a few notes on the lowest string, then took your index finger between his and showed you how to curl it just right. You swallowed thickly, and hoped he wouldn’t be able to hear your shaky breaths.

“Feels funny,” John said as he watched you pluck out a few tentative notes. “Me teaching you something for once.”

Face hot, you just tried to concentrate on playing right.

“You’re a much better baker than I am a bassist.”

John moved closer to correct your left hand, and now his chest was pressed up against your back. You tensed, trying to keep as still as possible but it was difficult to concentrate with him so close. All questions about whether he was doing it on purpose left your head when he spoke softly by your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“I don’t know,” John let his hand slip down your forearm, just as it did the neck of his bass, and tentatively let it rest just above your waist. “Looks pretty good from where I’m standing.”

You stopped attempting to play, it was pointless. You couldn’t so much as hold a thought in your head, let alone carry a tune. You turned your head to the side until you could just see John out of the corner of your eye.

“You’ve taught me a lot, you know,” John went on. “Not just the baking. You’ve made me much braver.”

His big hand felt heavy against your side. You were suddenly hyper aware of the slightest movement of each of his fingers. While his other arm was slung across the body of the bass, his fingers tucked underneath it to support its weight, the fingers of his left hand pressed into your soft waist ever so slightly and you had to hold back a gasp. You were touching so much, it was insane, you could barely remember your own name.

“I think I just bullied you into talking more.”

Your voice was shaky and low. You knew John would catch it but you didn’t care. You were too busy thinking about how warm his chest felt against your back, and how if you angled your hips just right, you could sink back into him until his hips were fitted against your arse. Then John spoke again, so close now that it felt like his lips were close to brushing your neck

“I’m glad you did.”

You could practically feel him smile against your skin as he added,

“You’re good for me, I think.”

Slowly, carefully, you turned your head a little further, and John shifted around so that you could meet each other’s gaze properly.

His confidence seemed to slip the moment he knew you could see him, but the hand that rested heavily on your waist slipped down to your hip and squeezed.

“I think you’re good for me too,” you said, and smiled when John blushed under your gaze.

There was no space between you at all. Just one move, one inclination of your head, one press of John’s hand, and you’d be in his arms, your fingers in his lovely hair, your mouth pressed against his with only the bass between you, and suddenly the worst week of your life would be over.

You had just the wherewithal to realise how wrong you’d been. You thought you were alone, you thought you had no life outside of the bakery, but here you were, in the arms of the sweetest boy you’d ever known, listening to his band create some of the best music you’d ever heard, and John truly believed everything would be okay. Maybe you ought to trust him.

John let out a short breath, the corners of his mouth turning upwards, as if he too was nervous and excited and uncertain all at once. How sweet it was to know he felt exactly what you were feeling.

“What you said about, erm, no kissing till I’ve got your bakery back,” John murmured, his pretty eyes fixed unashamedly on your mouth. “Is that a… Is that a hard and fast rule? Or more like a suggestion?”

You smiled, and watched John’s adam’s apple bob in his lovely throat.

“What do you think, pretty boy?”

It was very clear from the look in John’s eyes what he thought about that. He bent his head, slowly and with great consideration, just like with everything he did, until the tip of his nose brushed yours. You felt your eyes close without you needing to think about it, your lips parting as you heard John say,

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting t-”

“Oh, have we got a new bassist? Lovely.”

Your eyes snapped open in time to see Freddie swoop into the room with a drink in his hand. He was smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“I can’t tell you how pleased I am, love. You’ll look much better in the costumes.”

John begrudgingly moved away but he was smiling to himself. Caught. When his hands left you, it felt like all the air had come rushing back into the room.

The boys chatted as they filed back in, passing around ideas and thoughts on the next show, but you could barely hear them over the sound of your own heart thumping in your ears.

John stayed close. You couldn’t be more relieved. After today, after this week, you never wanted him to move out of arm’s reach again.

“Thanks for today,” you whispered to him, when you were sure the others wouldn’t hear you. “I needed this.”

John shrugged, then carefully helped you out from under his bass. He slipped it over his head, then swung the guitar round so that it wouldn’t bump against you as he took your hand in his.

“You’ve saved me enough times. It’s about time I returned the favour, Captain.”

“I’m still Captain, am I?”

“Of course! You’ll always be my captain.”

“I was worried… I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to see me anymore, now you don’t have to.”

John smiled.

“It wasn’t the bakery I was coming to see, love. I haven’t been getting up at the crack of dawn and peddling across half of London for the bakery. I didn’t suffer scraped knees and a daft helmet for Gladys and her bloody ancient coffee machine.”

You marvelled at this for a second, then you smiled.

“It’s Mickey, isn’t it.”

John laughed.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. Can’t get enough of the bloke.”

“I knew it, I knew it.”

”It’s the arms.”

“Who can blame you.”

Master List

#john deacon #queen #john deacon x reader #john deacon reader #john deacon fic #queen fic #john deacon x you

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