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slavicdelight · 5 months

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EPHEMERAL

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen × Targ!Royce!f!reader

Summary: Your father, Prince Daemon Targaryen never ackowledged you. Your mother, Lady Rhea Royce passed away when you were little, which leaves you to be raised by your uncle - King Viserys Targaryen, and his wife - Queen Alicent Hightower. As you grow up in the Red Keep, you grew close to the kings second son - Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Warnings: cursing, violence, canon divergence

A/N: part two is here HIRAETH

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Being the daughter of the infamous Rouge Prince was not easy, especially when your mother was a woman he despised up until her death or after that. You were not even supposed to exist, as your parents held such resentment towards each other, that their union was not consummated for a very long time, before one fateful night, when Prince Daemon was exiled from King’s Landing yet again by his brother, King Viserys. Your maid mentioned to you that your father was extremely enraged and got drunk inside the walls of Runestone. Your lady mother was also having an exceptionally bad day, and so she joined her husband in consuming a ridiculous amount of wine. One thing led to another, therefore you were conceived, and the Targaryen man fled the very next day.

You were born the same year as the eldest son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, growing up in the Vale with only your mother there, as your father, upon hearing the news of your birth did not even acknowledge you as his child and flew away to fight in the Stepstones. He could call you a bastard of his “Bronze Bitch” all he wanted, but even though you had brown hair, no one could deny the fact that you have the blood of the dragons flowing through your veins, for your eyes were the gorgeous shade of violet. Runestone was your home. You loved running in its halls, playing with various servants and guards, but your most favourite part was learning everything you could from your mother. Sadly your childhood joy did not last long. When you were two name days old Lady Rhea passed away in what was called a hunting accident. People of the Vale did not believe that story and were spreading rumours that it was her husband, who murdered her in cold blood.

Queen Alicent, after learning about your misfortune, convinced her husband to bring you to the Red Keep to be raised among your cousins. She mentioned a well-known saying going around the Targaryen family: “A dragon alone in the world is a terrible thing”. And so, as a result, you were brought to Kings Landing and raised along with the queen’s and Princess Rhaenyra’s children. You got on with Helaena and Aemond pretty well. The princess was your closest friend, you spent most of the time together, because you were the only two girls among the royal family residing in the castle. You did not mind her riddles nor her fondness for small creatures, quite the opposite, you found it fascinating how smart Helaena is. Aemond was a slightly different story. You remember being drawn to him, something inside you did not let you pull away from the prince. For him you were his light in life, the only person he did not mind the company of. You both were polar opposites. You being very kind, talkative and a ray of sunshine, him being closed off and quiet. You disliked Aegon, even though you were the closest in age, because of his vile language and inappropriate behavior. He was also a bully and liked to tease you and Aemond for not having dragons, dragging the sons of Princess Rhaenyra into it as well. When it comes to Jace and Luke, you found them pleasant to be around when they’re not doing Aegon’s bidding. Your life in the Red Keep was going well and you thrived in this environment, but what you did not know, is that it would all soon come to an end.

time skip to the funeral of Laena Velaryon

After Prince Daemon won the war in the Stepstones, he came back to his brothers’ side once again, but it did not last long, as he left following the wedding of Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor. During his presence in the castle, he was set on ignoring your existence, and you only saw him once, when he strolled through the gardens, where you were sitting with Helaena. He wed the lady Laena Velaryon soon after and left for Pentos abandoning you again. Now, you are all standing on Driftmark, attending the said lady’s funeral. Once again your father has paid you no attention and you decided not to let it bother you. After the coffin was laid down into the sea everyone started conversing amongst each other. You decided to stay close to Aemond, due to not feeling confident and you knew that he was the only person who could bring you comfort. As you headed to where the green siblings stood, you heard Aegon talking.

“We have nothing in common.” he said, clearly talking about Helaena, who sat on the ground playing with a spider. As you walked closer you heard her muttering one of her riddles. “She’s our sister.” defended her Aemond, right when you appeared next to him and took his hand, sending a small smile his way, which he returned. “You marry her then”. Lately, it has been revealed that the two eldest children of Queen Alicent are betrothed. You pitied your friend, Aegon was probably the most horrid person you have ever encountered.

“I would perform my duty, if only mother had only betrothed us. But I am to marry someone else.” with that he looked at you. “I am happy to be marrying you, as you are the best possible choice.” you said to him, squeezing his hand tighter. The small council also decided on a marriage between you and the King’s second son.

“She’s an idiot.” said Aegon and your blood boiled. “At least she’s not a complete moron and a drunk.” you bit back and Aemond had to fight back a grin. “Oh you little witch.” said the boy and tried to advance towards you unsuccessfully.

“She’s your future Queen” said the younger brother. It was a known fact that the Queen and the Hand wish to put him on the throne instead of Princess Rhaenyra. War was inevitable. “We do have something in common.” said Aegon, when a maid came over with a tray of wine. “We both fancy creatures with very long legs.” and with that he strolled away in search for more alcohol.

That left you alone with Aemond. Suddenly the pair of you heard unmistakably a roar of the dragon in the distance. Vhagar, the she-dragon of Queen Visenya, that recently became riderless. You look at your companion and noticed the longing look in his eyes. “Aemond. What are you thinking?” you said to get his attention. He turned to you for a second before continuing to stare in the direction of the sound. “She’s hurting, mourning the loss of lady Laena. I always wanted to see her, after all, she is the last living symbol of the conquest. “ you kept going. “Hmm. Maybe we should go and see her then.” you looked at him as he said that. “Tonight, after everyone’s asleep so that no one stops us.”You were used to sneaking out, as you both often did so to spend time together in the keep’s library late at night, to read all the books you could find. After small moment of consideration, you nodded to let him know that you agree to the plan. Up untill the night, you spend time with each other exploring the Drftmark castle.

Soon enough it started to grow dark. You and your best friend stood next to the flight of stairs leading to the beach, looking at drunk Aegon. Just as you were planning to sneak off, the boys’ grandfather, Otto Hightower, came into view, grabbing the eldest prince to drag him to his bed. Aemond looked at you as they left and motioned to follow him, which you did without any worries. Both of you walked towards the place Vhagar nested in, and once the mighty dragon became visible, you were amazed. She was so big, that she did not need to open her mouth much to swallow the two of you. “Fuck” muttered Aemond. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” you whispered and couldn’t tear your gaze away. And with you saying that the white-haired boy proceeded to move closer towards her. Your brows furrowed at the act and you asked “My prince? What are you doing?”

Aemond turned to face you and said “She is unclaimed and she’s suffering. I can’t let it go on.”. You then understood what he meant and the idea of your betrothed going straight into the jaws of the biggest dragon alive made you uneasy. “Aemond. This is a bad idea! She could burn you! Or eat you!” you argued. “It is my right, both of our right, to claim a dragon.” you knew that, but there were so many dragons without riders. Surely you could make a trip to Dragonstone and try your luck with others, nonetheless, you knew that once Aemond set his mind on something, there is no changing it.

“Just please, be careful.” you muttered into his ear as you hugged the boy. Unwanted tears gathered in your eyes, as you saw him approach the animal. You were pretty far away and too lost in your own mind to hear him say anything. When Vhagar opened her mouth to breathe fire, you almost fainted from worry, but you believed that he could do it. And he did it, the dragon accepted him as his rider, letting him climb atop her for their first flight. You were so proud of the prince and you beamed into the sky screaming “Yes Aemond! You did it!” and laughing. Once the flight was done and he climbed down, he called you to his side. You came over slowly, wary of the dragon, as you knew, they don’t like the presence of people, who aren’t their riders.

“I did it! Did you see? I was flying!” Aemond became a ball of energy at this moment and you couldn’t help but grin. “You did it. You’re finally a dragon rider.” and with that, you hugged him. “I’m so proud of you.”. He gave you a beautiful smile, but it slightly fell, once you said “But scare me like that ever again and I will kill you.”. Taking his hand, you both started walking back towards the castle and Aemond told you all about the experience, and how freeing, yet terrifying it felt. Neither of you expected to encounter a problem once you walked inside.

“It’s them.” said one of your half-sisters. In the entrance stood the daughters of the late Lady Laena, along with Jace and Luke. “It’s us.” confirmed Aemond when you both emerged from the darkness. “Vhagar is my mother’s dragon. She was mine to claim.” exclaimed Rhaena and you could clearly see rage overcoming her. “Dragons aren’t possessions to be passed down, dear sister.” you told her and everyones eyes turned to you. “Aemond had the right to claim her and she chose him. It is done.” you defended your prince and he gave you a small smile before saying “Perhaps your cousins would find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.” Not that long ago Aegon, Jace, and Luke pulled a prank on Aemond, dressing up a pig in wings, calling it Pink Dread. With that Rhaena tried to hit him, but he dodged the attempt and pushed her away, making Baela strike him on the nose. With that, all hell broke loose and you knew that it will not end well. You tried to stop them “No! Leave him alone! He didn’t do anything wrong!”, but someone pushed you away and you banged your head against the torch on a wall. You could feel the bleeding and the ache, but you ignored it to observe what was happening in front of you.

Aemond was holding Luke by the neck, while in his other hand he gripped a rock. “You will die screaming as you father did. Bastards.” he said and you were shocked, not because you didn’t believe it, but rather because he said it out loud. Everyone knew Princess Rhaenyra was having an affair with Ser Harwin Strong. How else would anyone explain the certain resemblance he has to the “Velaryon” boys? They do not look anything like their supposed father Ser Laenor. The King Viserys was conveniently blind to it, but everyone knew that he just prefered to conceal the truth to protect his “only child”. “My father’s still alive.” said Luke and you watched a smirk appear on the white-haired prince’s face. “He doesn’t know, does he? Lord Strong.” he continued and you had to intervene. “Aemond stop. That’s enough. Let’s finish this madness.” you tried to convince him to let the younger prince go. He looked at you and that’s when Luke broke free and both he and Jace attacked Aemond. Before you could comprehend what was happening you saw a flash of knife and blood chilling scream of your betrothed.

You ran towards him and saw him clutching his eye tightly. The bastard took his eye. “Aemond!” you screamed. “Guards! What are you waiting for?! Get help!” you yelled at your sisters and cousins, while trying to soothe Aemond. Soon enough guards poured in and one of them pulled you away from your best friend, much to your protest. “My prince. Let me see.” The guard turned Aemond around and saw the wound. “Gods be good” Gods be good indeed. You were all taken to the hall and the adults were called. By that time you felt very faint from the blood loss and passed out. You didn’t hear the exchange between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra as you did not wake in time, but you know, as did everyone in the realm, what transpired there.

You woke up two days later, and you took time to recover. It did not stop you from visiting Aemond in his chambers or going to the gardens and spending time with Helaena. One day as you were walking to your rooms, you overheard a conversation between Queen Alicent and Lord Larys Strong. They were discussing the issue of your father marrying Princess Rhaenyra and the scandal it caused. Both believed they had a hand in Ser Laenor’s murder, but what was said in this conversation rang in your head for days. “I would not put it passed Prince Daemon to murder the princess’s husband. After all, nothing stopped him from killing his first wife.” Your mother’s death wasn’t an accident, because it was Daemon who murdered her to finally be free of marriage duty. Since that day you hated your father even more and you promised yourself, that you would avenge your beloved mother.

time skip six years later

You and Aemond have been married for a year now and you recently welcomed a child into the world, a beautiful girl named Alysanne after the Good Queen, who looked like exact copy of the prince. Your husband a wonderful father and lover. Since the day your daughter was born he has been spending all of his free time tending to you both. Even though the Driftmark accident caused the prince to be colder and more intimidating, he was very caring and soft towards you, your daughter, his mother and his sister. Only the women of his family were privileged to see this side of him. After your wedding you relocated to Runestone and you took over your responsibilities as a Lady of the house. Aemond unsurprisingly thrived in the Vale as the Lord of Runestone, as he was dutiful, smart and formidable. You were content there, but you visited the Red Keep as often as you could on your dragons. Yes, you heard correctly. Dragons. About two years after the loss of Aemonds eye, you stumbled upon a dragon of your own. It was one of the wild ones, that terrified anyone who heard his name. You claimed the notorious Canniball. During the last visit to King’s Landing, Helaena gifted you both a dragonn egg from Dreamfire’s latest clutch to put into Alysanne’s cradle.

Just last night the three of you arrived at court for the Driftmark petitions, that are being held in approximately three days. Corlys Velaryon suffered a terrible injury during his voyage and no one could be sure if he will recover. This plundged the succession into question. Lord Vaemond Velaryon publicly questioned Lucerys Velaryon’s right to become the next Lord of the Tides. King Viserys has been bedridden for a long time now, and the realm was placed into the hands of Hightowers, who ruled in his stead. Princess Rhaenyra was informed of the petition and was to come to the Red Keep to defend her son, and along with her will come the whole black fraction of Targaryen family. You weren’t keen on seeing any of them again, especially Prince Daemon, as you held strong resentment towrads the man.

On the day of their arrival you and your daughter were on the country yard watching Aemond train with Ser Criston Cole. Soon you saw the two eldest sons of heir to the iron throne and smirked at their terrified expressions, while they realised what formidable fighter your husband was. With a few more strikes of the blade Aemond defeated Cole. “Congratulations my Prince, you’ll be winning tourneys in no time.” said the knight. “I don’t give a shit about tourneys.” you beloved answered and directed his eyes towards the boys. “Nephews. Have you come to train?”. In that moment the gate opened and in walked Vaemond Velaryon, advancing towards the keep, he casted the nastiest look he could muster towards his “nephews”.

After that Jace and Luke scurried away inside, probably in search of their mother or Daemon for protection and Aemond walked up to you and took your daughter into his arms, while she blabbed excitetly at her father. “It seems, my love, that you scare them off.” you said, smilig at him. “Hmmm. Good. It is best they learn their place. I am not so easily defeated now.” and with that he placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you in direction of your chambers. When you walked inside, Aemond placed your daughter in her cradle, while you sat next to the fireplace. “I wish for you to behave today. I know that their presence irritates you, but it is not for long and we don’t need any fights today. Gods know my father is only waiting for a reason to kill us all, so it will be best not to give him one.” Aemond only hummed at that and went to stand behind you to massage you neck. “You’re tense.” he stated the obvious. “Of course I am. It is stressfull enough to be in one keep with him. Seriously Aemond, do not do anything to cause a fight today, I beg you.” you truned to look him straight into the eye. “For you, my darling wife, I will be civil, but don’t expect me to be nice.” he answered. You nodded in confirmation. That was all you needed.

Finally it was time for the petitions to be held. You stood between Aemond and Heleana, looking straight into the eyes of Prince Daemon Targaryen and he held your gaze, as if it was a staring contest. Lord Hand stood before the Iron Throne and declared the petitions to be open. First one to make his was Ser Vaemond. His statement was going all about the Velaryon blood, and how his supposed nephews did not have a drop of it in themselves. Princess Rhaenyra tried to intervene, only to be stopped by you mother-in-law. At the end of his petiton he put himself forward as the successor of his brother. It was now the turn of your stepmother to defend her son’s right. She walked gracefully towards the throne and started to say “If I have to grace this farce, I must remind you, that yearly twenty years ago in this very room..”

She was interrupted by the doors swinging open as the knight announced “King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”. Everyone couldn’t hide their surprise, after all, the king hasn’t been seen in a long time, too sick to even get up from his bed. And yet here he was, walking to the throne with a golden mask covering half of his face, leaning on the support of a cane. “Father has once again come to defend his only child.” sneered Aegon. You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips, it was true, he never shown any care to anyone other than his eldest daughter, and for that you hated the man almost as much as you did your father. In your eyes he was a weak king and even a weaker man. Disgraceful.

In that moment everyone knew that Driftmark will be going to Lucerys, no matter how wrong it was and how many people protested against it. Luke was a sweet boy, but he had no right to the Driftwood Throne. “I don’t understand why are we discussing a settled succesion.” the king said after finally settling on the throne. “The only one, who could offer keeper insight into Lord Corlys’ wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”. The said princess took a step closer before answering her cousin. “Indeed Your Grace. It was in Lord Corlys’ wishes for Driftmark to be passed to his grandson, Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor my support of him. Princess Rhaenyra offered to betroth her children, Jace and Luke to Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.” You all knew that is was pointless to argue now. Viserys affirmed Lucerys as the future Lord of the Tides, but it wasn’t acceptable to Ser Vaemond as he openly declared the sons of the heir as bastards. “I will have you tongue for that” rasped the king, but it wasn’t necessary. Prince Daemon Targaryen unnoticed by everyone sneaked behind Vaemond, Dark Sister in his hand, and cut off his head in one strike. Everyone in the hall got startled at that and the petitions were over. The King had to be carried out of the hall as he suddenly fell down.

“Did you see them? Flaunting their privilege without a care in the world. It is horrible how they think they can get away with everything.” you spoke on the way back to your chambers with Aemond trailing behind you. “Darling. Do not worry, it will not last long anyway.” your husband tried to coax you to calm down. After walking into the room, you headed straight to the cradle where Alysanne laid awake, playing with a dragon plushie you made for her during your tea with Helaena. The prince dismissed the maid who was watching your daughter and walked over to you two. “I’m scared Aemond. You saw what he did there. He has no restrain, I fear what he would do to us, to her.” you said and looked at the babe. “He will do nothing, for he would be called a kinslayer. And I shall protect you both with my life. Nothing will happen, I promise you.” That made you hug him and bury your face in his chest. Everything has to be alright.

The night came, and with it the dreaded family dinner, which was demanded by Viserys in honor of his family being all in the same place for the first time in six years. You were talking with Helaena about setting up another playdate for your kids, while your husbands stood to the side talking Gods know about what. Eventually, everyone took their seats. You and your husband were at the end of it, exactly in front of Lucerys and Rhaena. You all stood up when the King was carried in and so let the game of pretending begin. “It is good to see you all, together” Viserys started and Alicent proposed to say prayers. The King stood up for a speech. “My own face is no longer a handsome one, if indeed it ever was” he revealed his full face, which was missing an eye. He looked more like a skeleton than a human. “But tonight, I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king, but your father.” he looked towards Rhaenyra, Aegon, Helaena and Aemond. “your husband” he said to Alicent. “and your grandsire who may not, it seems, walk for much longer among you.” Everyone’s faces displayed something else, but what they all had in common, was pain of seeing him suffer. “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. Set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”. After his speech, Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent made toasts to each other and the atmosphere became lighter. Everyone were enjoying themselves, the room was full of music, laughter, dancing, and pleasant conversations. It was all going smoothly until the pig was brought to the table and set directly in front of your husband. By that time Viserys was carried out as he felt worse. That made Lucerys chuckle, as he was reminded of Pink Dread, and send a smirk Aemonds way. This was his mistake, as the older prince suddenly slammed his hand onto the table, grabbed his cup and made the final toast of the night.

“Final tribute.” with saying that he had everyone’s attention and Aegon raised his cup in support of his brother. “To the health of my nephews: Jace…Luke…and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” every person in the room held their breath as their waited for inevidable. “Strong.” “Aemond” you and Alicent said at the same time, but he did not listen and he was not about to stop. “Come…Let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.” that made Jace mad and he went to retaliate. “I dare you to say that again” the bronze haired boy said and everyone stood up from their seats in case a fight erupted. “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment” continued your husband. “Enough of that” you said at the same time Aemond aksed “Do you not thing yourself Strong?”. Jace came over and hit the elder prince straight on the jaw, but it did nothing for Aemond only laughed and shoved the Velaryon onto the floor.“Jace!” screamed Rhaenyra. Lucerys tried to join the fight to help his brother, only to be stopped by Aegon, who slammed him on the table. “That’s enough” said Alicent. You were mad and decided to storm out of the room.

Not much later you husband stepped into the comfort of your chambers where he found you staring outside the window. He walked closer but you immediately took a step back and hissed at him “I asked you not to do anything today. But as always you had to let your pride ruin everything. Now you put a target on our backs. Daemon won’t let this go.”. “My love…” he started only to be cut off by you. “No! I do not want to hear your pitiful excuses.” Aemond scowled at you and you could see him getting angry. “That bastard dared to laugh at me. AT ME! Because of that fucking pig! I was only defending myself!” you only scoffed at that and walked towards the fireplace, further away from him. “If you had any decency you would have ignored it. But you didn’t! Instead you behaved like some peasant and started throwing insults and then began a fight”. “Jaecerys hit me first! He began the fight!” your husband defended himself but his look softened as he saw how worried you were. He kneeled before you and took your hand in his placing a kiss atop of it. “I’m sorry darling. I should’ve composed myself and ignore him. You are right. Please forgive me”. You looked at him and pulled the eyepatch off his face. “I just worry. I don’t want anything bad to happen. We should probably head back to Runestone. I think we overstayed this visit.” Aemond agreed and you decided to set back to the Vale in a couple of days.

But what you didn’t know, is that you wouldn’t be able to return to your keep, as for when you were sleeping, King Viserys drew his last breath and told his lady wife the dream of song of ice and fire, which was interpreted to put Aegon on the throne. War was on the horizont and no one was safe. Your and your family’s happiness and peace is about to become EPHEMERAL.

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A/N: My obsession with Aemond Targaryen and Ewna Mitchell reached to the point where i decided to give it a try and write something. Anyways, English is not my 1st language, so there may be some mistakes in writing. If you would like a part II of this story, please let me know in the comments. It would mean the world to me if you decided to leave a heat here ♡

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nataliasquote · 2 months

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Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader

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incorrectbatfam · 4 months

Note

I think you missed one member of Rob's crew. Their friend Jason Todd who comes round every so often with pizza and is actually rich or something.

A new neighbor moved in across the hall.

Rob didn't think much of it. People came in and out all the time. Traveling workers, runaway kids, aimless drifters. Half the tenants were squatters at any given time yet here he was paying rent like a total sucker.

He spat into the sink and rinsed. In the chipped mirror cabinet, he inspected himself. His rust-colored stubble was coming in, but not so quickly that he needed to shave today. He shrugged and threw on a clean shirt.

In the living room—if he could call it that, since it practically overlapped the kitchen—Milo entertained the kids with a mobile game while Gene was reading an Edgar Allen Poe book falling apart at the spine. They were the only other permanent residents besides the Steeler family. The rest of the crew came in and out as they pleased.

Rob said, "Kids, did you eat breakfast yet?"

The two six-year-olds nodded. The fifteen-year-old gave an affirmative grunt, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"What'd you have?" Rob asked.

"Donuts!" answered Gunner.

He raised an eyebrow. "Donuts?"

"Jay from across the hall brought them," said Jackie. "He also gave us these special donut hats. Look!"

Paper crinkled as she unfolded a Krispy Kreme hat and put it on top of her frizzy hair.

"I see." He nodded.

"Don't worry, I tested it first," Gene said.

"Thanks."

As Rob poured his morning coffee, he glanced at the box of a dozen donuts. A few of them were missing, naturally, but there was still a wide range of flavors. Next to it was an unfinished thank you card from Jackie, presumably before she got distracted.

Normally, he wouldn't think twice about the neighbors. But this one—this Jay who wouldn't even tell them his last name—had been on Rob's mind since the first "anonymous" free pizza delivery a week ago. Of course, with online ordering there was always a digital footprint, which Mac tracked to the apartment across the hall. After that, there was the "anonymous" Chinese takeout.

Then, Jay started talking to them and it was the standard neighborly conversations down by the mail room. When he asked Rob what he did for a living, Rob answered vaguely that he was freelancing. Gene was unemployed and he could outright say it. Jay also asked the kids what they wanted for the upcoming holidays when the complex residents were setting up the Christmas tree. Jackie wanted a pony and Gunner wanted a monster truck, and for a moment it seemed like Jay was in serious consideration.

Still, Jay was a stranger. As the encounters continued, it became an unspoken rule that either Rob or Gene be with the kids when the young man was around. One could never be too cautious in Gotham.

Rob finished his coffee and debated taking a donut, but ultimately decided against it. He grabbed his jacket, keys, and pack of cigarettes, telling Milo and the kids (mostly Milo) not to make a mess in the ten minutes he would be gone.

He didn't like smoking on the balcony. It was too close to the children and he didn't want them to get sick. Worse, he didn't want them to pick up the same dirty habit that he only got hooked on because he was a dumb kid that didn't know any better.

He trekked four floors down only to find, lo and behold, he wasn't alone.

A cigarette hung from Jay's fingers as he leaned against the brick wall at the entryway. "'Sup."

Rob acknowledged him with a short nod before lighting his own.

Rob glanced at Jay. It wasn't his first time observing but he always liked to note the subtle changes. The young man—about a decade younger than Rob—sported only a red sweatshirt and grease-stained jeans despite the cold. Since last time, Jay had gained a bruise on his cheek and a cut on his forehead just under his white streak. Rob didn't know what his neighbor did for a living other than it left him with a different mottling of injuries every week.

Jay spoke. "Ever heard of third-hand smoke?"

Rob. "What's that?"

"Firsthand is what we're doing right now, basically inhaling these cancer sticks. Secondhand would be if someone was standing close to us while we do it. Thirdhand smoke is the smell left on you after you go back inside and it's potentially harmful," he said. "You have kids, right?"

"The hell kind of question is that? You've met then."

"I'm just saying, you might wanna consider stopping by the laundry before you go back up."

"Fantastic. Another way I'm a shit dad." Rob grunted and took a drag.

Jay flicked some ashes off. "I know a think or two about shit fathers and the fact that you're worried about being one means you're on the right track."

"How can I be a good dad when I can't even provide them breakfast?"

"I asked your older kid and he said it was fine."

"Milo isn't mine and he's not the one in charge. Next time, take it up with me."

"Duly noted."

Rob took another long drag and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling the past two days' worth of residue from not washing. It caked under his nails like week-old bacon grease on unwashed dishes. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. All of him.

The sleeping around. The accidental pregnancy with a woman he barely knew. The fights. Him throwing her out into a rainstorm. Becoming a widower before he turned thirty with two kids who will never remember her. The backbreaking jobs. Not being good enough to not be laid off. The sketchy investment and losing nearly everything. The sneaking, the breaking, the taking.

And the excuses. All the ways he convinced himself he was in the right.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jay asked.

"I doubt it's worth a even penny," Rob answered. "I've just been wondering lately what my kids will remember me as when they get older. The business I'm in doesn't have a good reputation and I don't want that to be the first thing that comes to mind when they think of me—someone who only takes. I dunno why I'm telling you all this."

"Hey, it's a valid concern. The work I do also leaves me with those types of questions."

"What do you do?" he asked.

"A little bit of everything," Jay replied vaguely. "But back to what I was saying: your kids aren't gonna remember your day job. But I know they'll remember you putting them on your shoulders to hang the tinsel last weekend."

"I admit, you got a point." Rob flattened the cigarette butt under his boot before tossing it in the nearly trash can. "Anyway, thanks for co-hosting my morning pity party, but I have some errands to run. Starting with laundry."

Jay smiled. "I'll see you around."

"Hopefully," he said, smiling back.

There was something familiar about his neighbor, but Rob couldn't put his finger on it.

Ah, well. At least this one came with free food. Rob would be an idiot if he didn't take a donut while the washing machine wrung the smoke out his clothes.

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ystrike1 · 6 months

Text

Red Mansion - By Nanggaek (9/10)

Crime rings are so boring. We've all seen the same stale "gangster" settings before. This is a really dark crime webtoon. Both men are yanderes and the real evils of the story are landlords, debt, and exploitation. It kinda gets too real. The simmering evil is top tier.

Sungkyung, or "Mini Mart", runs Mini Mart number 3 in the Red Mansion complex. The Red Mansion isn't a collection of regular apartments. It's very cheap. Very old. Very moldy. Very populated by criminals and people in debt etc. Our protagonist gets robbed. He gets scammed. His store is a dirty joke, and there's constant fights in the halls.

Make no mistake.

The Red Mansion is a prison for the desperate poor.

Mini Mart is underweight. His little business barely makes any money. Most of the residents don't pay their tab. Mini Mart occasionally has to take dangerous side jobs to pay for his parents meds.

Mini Mart was BORN in the Red Mansion. His parents fell into debt when their business flopped. Their son has never known normalcy, or the luxury of safety.

He's also a total hottie under the grime and dirty hair, but that doesn’t matter when your life is debt.

They were loving parents, so Mini Mart feels compelled to care for them. Both parents have fallen victim to some mysterious disease. They won't eat and they just sleep in cots all day, covered in flies.

You may have already guessed the plot twist. It looks like his parents aren't really sick, by definition. They have lost the will to live in the Red Mansion. They were once a prosperous middle class couple. They've...given up, even though Mini Mart hasn't given up on them.

The Red Mansion is a family business. It's been making money off of people in debt for years. The second generation owner is the handsome Mr. Kwon. The younger of two brothers.

He's handsome and he's a scary gangster.

Mini Mart has a crush on him because....well...duh? Mr. Kwon is a well dressed and reasonably polite man who visits Mini Mart about once a week. He doesn't abuse Mini Mart.

By the way I'm calling him Mini Mart because Mr. Kwon doesn't know his name.

It's all very creepy. Mr. Kwon doesn't KNOW Mini Mart. He's not interested in Mini Mart..........but he totally is. Mr. Kwon has never slept with a man. He doesn't KNOW he has a crush on Mini Mart. He just shows up. He gives Mini Mart money. Gifts. He visits when he has lower thugs for that, and he's nice to Mini Mart. He also licks cheap lollipops while he stares at Mini Mart. Yeah definitely a dense closet Bi guy. Classic repressed alpha male. You get it.

Mini Mart has noticed the flirting. You see, he has an observation note book. Mr. Kwon is his only friend and his only crush. Mini Mart is super obsessed with him. He sort of figures out that Mr. Kwon is interested in him...in some way. Maybe it's pity. He's not sure, but he's willing to do anything. Mr. Kwon is literally the coolest, most handsome, richest, nicest person in his life.

Of course he's obsessed to an unhealthy degree. His visits are the one bright spot in Mini Mart's routine. He has to spend the rest of his time working and caring for his depressed parents.

Mini Mart is weird but he's a nice guy. He fights a bloody battle to get pills from a quack doctor for his parents. Mr. Kwon eventually sees the injuries. His "gifts" start to get bigger. He seems to like how "pathetic" Mini Mart is. That kinda sucks because Mini Mart is a resilient and kind hard worker. Who really doesn't deserve to be looked down upon for supporting his entire family but...whatever Mr. Kwon is done for.

Mr. Kwon kinda invites Mini Mart over. Kinda. Mini Mart is in debt. He has to pay interest directly to Mr. Kwon. Usually that's done in the Red Mansion, but Mr. Kwon invites him to his real home when he's kinda drunk.

He notices Mini Mart is turned on by him. He confronts Mini Mart about his stolen jacket, and he's turned on by that and.....Mini Mart stole the jacket to sniff it and he admits it.

....

...

Well.....

Mini Mart is happy.

Mr. Kwon is mostly confused but he's got spirit. I'm not saying he's awesome, but he's never outright awful. He does things for Mini Mart that actually help him a little bit. He's interesting because he falls for Mini Mart very, very slowly. He's crass. He's rude. He thinks he's into women, but then Mini Mart blushes at him and suddenly he wants to do chores. He settles the debt tabs for the mart, just to help out his new lover.

Is he a nice guy? No, but Mr. Kwon isn't moping around the mart trying to abuse the object of his interest. The story is very dark in general, so it's easy to see that Mr. Kwon gives Mini Mart special treatment.

He's a soulless demon with everybody else.

It's also nice??? That Mr. Kwon really enjoys uh...pleasuring Mini Mart? It's messed up that he doesn't learn Sungkyung's name for a while, but at the same time there's enthusiastic consent and both men enjoy themselves fully. I think this is the superior "kept man yandere" webtoon. I can actually see this relationship progressing. Mini Mart would absolutely, willingly become Mr. Kwon's submissive lover. No prison keys required.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #yaoi #Red Mansion

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dragonrider9905 · 13 days

Text

Racing Heart

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Summery: You are an Imperial officer, formerly an intelligence officer of the Republic. You were friends with the Batch before they defected. You miss them, especially Tech. All hope seemed lost of finding them until a lead came up…from Safa Toma. Warnings: Angst to comfort; feelings of conflict; feelings of betrayal

You sat down in the mess hall to eat your evening meal. It's been months since you’ve interacted with the Batch seeing as how they defected from the Empire…and you didn’t. Well, most of them anyway. You still saw Crosshair here and there when he wasn’t off on some mission. You spent time with him and ate with him when he was on base but otherwise, you ate your meals alone. It didn’t start out that way. You ate with your friends, like in the days of the Republic. You enjoyed each other’s company and found a reason to laugh and smile even if there was a war on. But the longer you worked with the Empire, the fewer your friends got. They either moved away, were killed…or went AWOL. The new people who came in…you didn’t share quite the same ideologies. They never served in the Clone War so they didn’t share your appreciation of the clones…also, your passionate service of helping people wasn’t shared. Most of these new officers were more about making their lives powerful than helping people, like you were.

At first, you didn’t understand why the Batch ran away. You always wished you could have asked them their reasons. Why couldn’t they just fight for the Empire? It was making the galaxy better. The Republic just evolved. That’s all. Same job, different uniform.

That’s what you thought at first.

The longer you stayed, the more you realized just how wrong you were.

The Empire was hurting people. Not helping. You sighed and picked at your food.

If only you could have asked them. Asked him. Maybe you wouldn’t still be there, fighting for a cause you didn’t believe in or sign up for. Maybe you could be with them. With him .

The resident genius must have seen coming what you didn’t. You always did like listening to Tech talk. You saw now they were smart to get out while they still could. You wished you would have gone with them or met up with them or something. You were sure if Tech would have explained it to you, you would have understood and even agreed all that time ago. Tech always had evidence for what he thought. Never whims with him. His decisions were always well thought out and backed up. You trusted him completely.

Oh why couldn’t you have trusted him that one last time without evidence?

You sighed again and grumbled at the same time. The picking at your food got a little more aggressive the more you thought. You felt yourself grow warm with agitation toward yourself but you couldn’t help the spiral of thoughts. They just kept coming.

You worked with the Bad Batch on many missions and became really good friends with all of them. What you shared with Tech, well, that was a little more complicated. Being an intelligence officer, you spoke more to him. First for work…then because you enjoyed it. You really wanted to believe he did too, seeing as he sought you out for your opinion on things, even if they were trivial, but you didn’t know for sure so you just took the friendship for what it was, not wanting to touch or ruin it. The longer you knew him, the more you denied how you increasingly began to feel, convinced he didn’t feel the same; but when news of the Batch’s death on Kamino reached you…You finally came clean with yourself and admitted what you wouldn’t before. You loved him.

Realizing you loved him, and that he was now gone with his wonderful brothers, your friends…was crippling. You cried yourself to sleep for a long time wishing that you had told him how you felt, that maybe the information was wrong, that maybe they could somehow be alive still. You saw the video of the destruction though. No one could have survived that. He died, never knowing your secret and now you were burdened with regret and the might have beens.

When Crosshair was saved, you visited him in the hospital every day, just grateful to have one of them back. One particularly tough day where everything went wrong, you couldn’t help but to miss Tech even more. He always knew what to do when you were in a jam or how to make you feel better—not because he was great with emotions but because he knew the real you. Your emotions bubbled to the surface. Not being able to share your grief with anyone for so long made your chest feel like lead.

“So what’s wrong?” Crosshair had asked. You had been sitting there with a grumpy look on your face and not saying hardly anything. You usually did most of the talking when visiting him. Being mostly silent, Crosshair knew something was up (as if the sour look on your face wasn’t an indication already.)

You looked around cautiously, not wanting anyone to hear you say you wished you were with a group of men once wanted by the Empire. It was treasonous to be sure.

You were sad, angry, depressed and annoyed. At yourself, the galaxy, the Batch, the Empire…You wanted to tell everything to Crosshair but you didn’t know how much you could trust him. Thinking you couldn’t just spill everything like the old days hurt you, but every day in the Empire taught you to be more and more cautious. How much did Crosshair believe in the Empire, you wondered? Cross was still Cross but he was … different. Sadder? Angrier? You couldn’t put your finger on it exactly. If you got more time with him, you were sure you could figure it out. But you didn’t, so trust was fragile, and oh how you hated that. Maybe he was more along your line of thinking than you thought…but you couldn’t know for sure unless you had more data. After all, he could have escaped the Empire and left with his brothers if he had wanted. But he had chosen the Empire after all…

You hesitated. Instead, you turned pink and only told Crosshair about your feelings for Tech (and nothing else) he merely rolled his eyes.

“‘Bout time one of you finally admitted it to yourselves. It was so obvious.”

You chuckled sadly. “Doesn’t matter much now, does it.” You look away all pink faced and blue mood. “They’re all dead.”

Crosshair’s playfulness disappeared and was replaced with a deep soberness. It was Crosshair’s turn to look both ways, and consider something before sharing it with you.

“He’s not dead.”

That one sentence changed everything.

“W-what do you mean…he’s not dead?!?”

Crosshair couldn’t quite look at you, and you didn’t know why. Perhaps he felt guilty for not realizing how the news of their deaths was affecting you and that they were related to the dark circles under your eyes. But you suspected there was more to it as well. You didn’t press him.

“It means he’s not dead. They made it off Kamino alive.”

Your mind reeled. Were you given a second chance?

“Just thought you should know.”

After you learned the true events of Kamino from Crosshair, you spent every spare moment looking for them. You used your advanced and massive skills to try to track them down. You had more knowledge about them than anyone else next to Crosshair and Cody. You tried to use that to your advantage.

At first you were full of energy and enthusiasm with your new found chance but now, sitting in the cafeteria surrounded in a sea of faceless, personalityless gray, you felt your energy waning. That day in the infirmary with Crosshair felt like ages ago and you were starting to give up. You didn’t want to give up, but right now, your heart couldn’t handle any more disappointment. Day after day of no results…who could blame you. You had to give them that though, at least they were well hidden and hopefully safe.

You stopped meddling with your unappetizing food and looked down at the gray uniform you wore on a daily basis. It was neat, tidy, impeccable, just how you liked things. In fact, some say it could have defined you. Back in the day, everyone always joked that you were so much like Crosshair because next to him, you would have been the neatest one in the squad (if you belonged with them). But it was so devoid of life. Somehow when the Batch wore gray, it was exciting. When you wore it, it felt meaningless. Your heart thudded a little harder, causing your chest to ache. If Wrecker was here, surely he’d slap you on the back like he always did. He’d cause you to throw your soup off balance and spill it on the spotless clothes. You’d scrunch up your face in false anger, complaining how long it’d take you to get the stain out and he’d laugh…

You got tired of your thinking and picked up your datapad, flipping through the channels for a distraction. You found yourself going through some unusual channels, ones the Empire didn’t approve of (you bypassed those codes so you could access any information you could—just one of many things Tech taught you) and ones you never really cared about. You also widened the range so you could gather information and watch things from all the Rims. You just hoped to come across something distracting enough to get your mind off this for a bit. Then you could start your search again with a fresh mind. You turned down the volume so you wouldn’t be detected or bothersome to the quickly filling cafeteria. No one came to your table in the corner yet. That suited you fine. You didn’t feel like being bothered.

One channel offered cooking. Not interesting enough for right now. Ring fights. You quickly turned that off. Riot racing…you almost switched the channel but your hand hovered for a minute, reluctantly curious. Might be interesting. When you served some time with General Skywalker, he mentioned pod-racing a few times and how fun it was. Maybe this was like that.

You set the datapad down, leaning it against your water capsule and propping it up with the tray and soon you were sucked into the world of racing. It was enthralling. Spellbound, you were glued to your screen and your chair, losing all interest in the happenings around you. The track was dangerous and unpredictable. The contestants even more so as it seemed anything could go in this game. You knew Safa Toma was sketchy. A lot of the Outer-Rim planets were dangerous this way. Not to mention all the behind the scenes gambling to add to the pressure. Your mind started turning wheels, thinking about the contestants and why they were racing.

You had to admit, you understood the attraction. You were having fun yourself watching the races, trying to predict the unpredictable, and rooting for a racer. Your eyes went wide and a smile started to form at the corners of your lips. This was just what you needed. You missed the first race but the recaps served you well. You were able to catch up in no time. TAY-O was a new racer but very keen. He won the first, but you watched him crash in the second. That was too bad. You sort of felt sorry for him even though he was a droid. Being double teamed was such a rude move! You decided you wanted to root for him in the next race.

There was a brief intermission, so you started to search details about the place and the racers and their sponsors for fun. Seeing as how this was live, it was pretty exciting. You shifted in your seat and put your legs up on the chair in front of you to get more comfortable. Then you relaxed against the wall. There were a few races left and your shift ended for the day. You could sit here all evening if you wanted to…

The announcements started for the new race which called your attention back to the games. You switched the screen back to the track. Your stomach rumbled and you realized you hadn’t touched your food in the first race. Somehow, it looked so much more appealing now than before. You eagerly rearranged your tray so it was closer. A stupid grin started to form on your face. This race was going to be good, you could just feel it!

“All right! Place your bets! Our racers are ready. Safa Toma’s Riot Champion, Jet Venim! Bosco, “the Mad Bomber” Brix….” The announcer’s voice boomed into the microphone, excitedly listing off the names.

Spooning your soup, you let your mind wander, having already read about all them during the break. You wondered if TAY-O would win again. His strategy seemed…flawed, you couldn’t help but notice. After all, he was nearly destroyed in the last race. No doubt this Cid person had him put back together. The animosity between TAY-O and Venim would be big this game. Something had to be between the gamblers themselves for those two racers. They singled out each other too much.

You reached for your cup of juice and brought it to your lips. You wanted to be fully attentive when the racing started. Then the announcer hit you with:

“And finally, Teeeeeeeeech!”

You nearly jumped out of your seat, spitting out your juice, dangerously close to tipping your soup and coughing as bad as General Grievous. Tears sprung to your eyes and adrenaline started to course through your veins.

Excuse me? What? It couldn’t be?! You wanted to squeal.

You grabbed your datapad and brought it close to your face so you wouldn’t miss a thing.

The crowd went silent, you noticed, and so did your heart. It seemed to have stopped.

“Tech? Anything else on this guy?” the announcer continued, “No? Guess he’s a late arrival. Is that his name? Tech? Just Tech?”

“Oh leave him alone!” You said out loud. Too loud. A few people looked over to you and you rolled your eyes, gluing them back to the screen. You didn’t even know if it was your Tech but the idea of anyone making fun of that name just bothered you. Tech is a brilliant name, you ignoramus. You growled and liked the announcer a little less. It had to be a coincidence. Tech could be short for a lot of things. Technically, technology, Techno… It couldn’t be…..

Then the screen panned to a man preparing his racer, looking up a little annoyed at the camera. There you saw the familiar goggled eyes, the helmet, and the unmistakable expression you knew so well…

There he was. The man you’d been searching for…

Tech.

Tech in a racer.

Tech in a racer on Safa Toma.

But why was he racing? Where were the others? What was going on? Why was he there, in a gambling pit and not even using an alias!?! Sure it was a backwater planet…could hide there…maybe he felt safe using his real name for that reason. You’d have to sort that out later.

“Okay, and here we go!”

You nearly stood from your seat as the racers went off but you forced yourself to stay down and you held your breath.

“Go get ‘em, Tech, you can do this.” you whispered to yourself.

It wasn’t lost on you that TAY-O was no longer racing, and Tech was in the same racer. Your heart started to beat faster the more the gravity started to pull on you. Tech was racing for a racer who was out. Was TAY-O beyond repair? Surely the team had time to fix him before the race. You noticed there was animosity between that Venim person and TAY-O…were you right about the people they were racing for… were they enemies? What had Tech gotten himself into…

“And they’re off!”

It was barely seconds into the race when one of the racers started firing on the others. Everyone was fighting for the lead…except Tech, who stayed in the back.

You’re last?!?! You’re losing! You can’t lose, Tech! You were afraid of the consequences if he didn’t win…yet, he did seem safer back there for now, letting the other racers fight it out and thin themselves a little. You knew Tech knew what he was doing so you decided to trust him. You had to. You always did before. And you had to admit, that was actually pretty strategic for a game like this.

Sure enough, the other racers were destroying each other—and you saw it all. Whenever you’d see Tech’s racer on the screen you’d get excited and nervous. You couldn’t tell if it was better to see him or not seeing him. Not seeing him, you knew he was safe, but seeing him…well, you got to see him and his genius flying but you couldn’t help but wonder if something bad was going to happen since they seemed to show every accident victim on the screen.

You started groaning when he was getting shot at.

His shields are overheating. If you’re not going to use your weapons, divert the power!

The next moment, he dropped all his weapons at the pit.

Your jaw dropped as well. Not what I meant, Tech. You need those!!!!

The camera stayed on the shocked faces of the race crew. You smiled when you recognized Wrecker, a small worrying feeling shot threw you not seeing the others …but there could be a million reasons why they weren’t there; they weren’t necessarily gone…like that. Maybe they went to get food? Hunter would probably die if he saw Tech doing this , you thought. You saw Wrecker shyly wave at the camera. Something warm bloomed in your chest and your throat started to tighten. You couldn’t help but to wave back, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. You smiled looking at him all flustered. Trust me, Wreck, I know the feeling. You chuckled.

Wrecker went from shy to concerned, plastered all over his face. A small, blond girl stood next to him, the same concern reflected on hers. It was interesting to see how deep her connection to Tech seemed to be. Her time on the screen was brief, but you couldn’t mistake the look on her face because you knew the feeling well.

You wondered who the kid was and how long she’d known them. Maybe she could help you find them. She might be easier to locate than them if she was involved in the races there. You took a quick screen image to study later.

“Looks like Tech has got a vaporization wish! And has removed all his weapons!”

“Oh shut up.” You mumbled.

You bit your lip, that bubble of anxiety starting to nest in your stomach again, but you immediately recognized why Tech did what he did.

His speed. He’s a lot faster now.

You watched as he zipped along the track. You could almost see the focus in his eyes. You knew it was there of course, from experience. You could picture what his face under his helmet was.

Lips drawn in determination and clamped shut, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Your heart was thumping as fast as his speeder. He was catching up…

Then the two that wrecked TAY-O last race started to box Tech in.

Oh no. You knew what was coming…it was as if you were given a snippet of the future through the eyes of someone else. A sense of deja vu. You bit your lip harder. You vaguely tasted blood in your mouth and your lip swell. But it was all numb. Tears sprung up again and your breath hitched. An image of the accident flashing across your memory.

Please don’t get caught! Please don’t get caught!

You watched the two racers fire on Tech, closing in. They were lining up…he was losing his shields!

You wanted to scream but you had no air in your lungs.

You saw the razer leave the ship in front and your eyes went wide.

Tech! Your heart made one last agonizing plea as the next seconds went way too fast and way too slow.

You watched the ship behind Tech prepare the clamper. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t. If something happened to Tech, you had to know. Then, just as the ship reached out for Tech, Tech made his move. He swiftly turned out of the way and dropped back, letting the two plotters destroy themselves. At the last moment, he sped ahead and crossed the finish line.

“Aaaand the winner iiiiissssss! Teeeeeech!”

You watched as the crowd rallied and cheered Tech on, chanting his name over and over again. Tears filled your eyes again but they were good tears. Relief flooded your body and you didn’t realize how tight you were holding your datapad. Your fingers hurt from clutching it so hard, not to mention your jaw that had been clenched tight the whole race. You rubbed your cheeks to try to loosen the muscles stiff and sore.

Pride took root next. The smile from your mouth spread to your eyes. You were glad he was getting the attention he deserved. His skills deserved to be recognized.

He did the lazy salute you were always so fond of and the crowd went wild.

You crazy idiot. You chuckled to yourself and fell back against the wall, winded and exhausted as if you were racing yourself.

You sat there dazed. What had you just seen? Was this real? You had to get more information on the racers…who they were racing for…their backgrounds. That would lead you to him. You’d find him. You were so close now, you could taste it! You’d have to get a replay of the race, just in case there were clues you missed. You were sure you could find it. You were still salty he used his own name and was on the holoshow, ruining his cover but as long as this didn’t exist in Empire data, he’d be safe. You’d make sure of that. Maybe you could…

Your train of thought was interrupted by a TK-trooper, who seated himself at your table.

“What’s got you all smiling pretty, hey there gorgeous?”

You smiled the brightest smile you could. “My man was just making me proud.” You waved your datapad, careful not to show the screen.

He got the idea and got up. “Uh, I think I forgot something.”

There ya go. Then a thought hit you. What if he liked someone else? You could easily see someone with more confidence than yourself flirting with him. He was an amazing guy…and now that he was a racing hero as well…you sighed. One thing at a time.

But now you had hope, hope you could see him again and finally tell him how you felt, how you didn’t want to leave him again, how you would help him survive against the Empire and fight against it if it came to that. Being by his side again in the field would be enough for you even if your other hopes weren’t realized.

You couldn’t stop smiling. You couldn’t believe it. You’d found him.

The world around you kept moving. Trays clanked against tables, people’s talk kept getting louder, troopers were moving too and fro, coming in after their shifts to finish the day with a tasteless meal and the nightshifters rushing in to get their fill before reporting to their posts.

All of them living unaware of the adventure you just had in the same cafeteria. A few minutes which could change the course of your life. That made the last few months worthwhile. So you continued sitting there, unmoving in the churning rainbow of white, gray and black.

But now what? So much information was still missing…you could deal with that. After all, hope had been restored. Anything was possible now. Your head buzzed. You now had a lead and you wanted to follow it…

“Food’s going to get cold if you keep staring.” a familiar, snakelike voice said, not unfriendly. You’d know the jest in that voice anywhere.

“Hey Crosshair!”

“What’s got you smiling all pretty and in a daydream?”

You opened your mouth to say more but stopped.

You wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him so bad. You wanted to see him proud of his brother. After all, he did have a right to know he was safe, right? But was it a good idea? Perhaps…Tech would be safer if you didn’t. If you kept this to yourself. If you just snuck away and found him…You didn’t know what to do. Crosshair did stay loyal to the Empire. He returned instead of leaving with his brothers. Yet he lied for their safety.

You heard a slight cough and looked up. Crosshair had one eyebrow raised curiously, almost teasingly.

“So?”

You realized you hadn’t answered. He was still waiting for a response.

So you had to give him one.

Trust or not to trust. That was the question.

(Part 2)

Dividers by @djarrex and @ve-ti-ver

#the bad batch #tbb hunter #star wars #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb omega #star wars the bad batch #tech x reader #tech #tech x you #tech and reader #tech x female reader #tbb tech x reader

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jokeroutsubs · 4 months

Text

ENG translation: "When I'm on stage, I know that I have to be here and only here"

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin in Slovenian newspaper Delo, originally published 31.10.2021.

Original article is available here for Delo subscribers. Original article written by Beti Burger for Delo; photos by Blaž Samec; English translation by a member of Joker Out Subs, native proof reading by IG GBoleyn123.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post! And if you repost the photos, do not crop out the photographer credit.

Bojan Cvjetićanin, frontman of Joker Out, says that the success happening to them is not the result of something that happened overnight.

When he's standing on stage, he doesn't know what's actually going on. Even though after the concert, he realises that he was on it, and remembers certain moments, he's actually in a zen-like state: his head is somewhere else, and his brain does what it wants to do. Young, reflective musician Bojan Cvjetićanin believes that he was born to write music and lyrics and sing them on stage. "What I enjoy the most at a concert is when we play a new song from start to finish with the band for the first time and we're 'vibing'."

And if some of the lines above did not have context yet when we talked the day before the first concert, and sort of 'hung in the air', in packed Cvetličarna it was crystal clear what he had wanted to say. They were 'vibing' not only when they played well-known hits - Omamljeno telo, Umazane misli, Vem da greš - but also to new songs from the album, when they felt the strong energy and heard the audience was singing the new songs with them... She'll find herself there, where no one knows her, where the road always carries the smell of fresh rain (...) where pearls are in seashells, not on necklaces (Barve oceana).

Bojan truly, as he said, seems a little distant on stage, as if he's in his own world, but also in contact with the audience at the same time. He is both confident and childishly playful at once, with a wide smile on his face, with the charisma of an experienced frontman. His friend and member of the band, bassist Martin Jurkovič, with whom they started their musical journey as young teenagers already, described him well in an interview as someone who "draws all the attention to himself and the band during a concert". When the band members look at each other during a gig, they recognise each other's exact thoughts, and a kind of perversion of pleasure happens. We witnessed this exact thing at the album presentation.

"On stage, I feel sexy, I feel free and accepted. I'm on autopilot and I'm never thinking about what my next move will be, it's when I'm 'free as a bird' because I am surrounded by friends who know me very well, so I don't have to be ashamed of anything. It's also a good feeling when you know that there is a crowd of people in the hall who came to our concert because they like something that we give them. This mutual accumulation of love and energy is very strong." Are there places where he doesn't feel accepted, I query his words. "I think that we all sometimes find ourselves in a situation when we feel like we don't belong there and we ask ourselves what we're even doing there. When I'm on stage, however, I know that I have to be here and only here."

Bojan Cvjetićanin Born in 1999. Frontman of currently the most in-demand young Slovenian band Joker Out which, with their shagadelic rock'n'roll, a genre they actually invented themselves, sold out Cvetličarna twice last week with their just-released album Umazane misli. Even off-stage, he's the 'joker' in a group, optimistic and talkative and an occasionally childishly playful young man. His lyrics (and music) are mature, sensitive and empathetic. The Ljubljana resident, otherwise a sociology student, has been making music for almost half of his life. Last but not least, a listener can quickly recognise that he actually grew up exactly where he feels the best: on stage.

Tired and sleep deprived, just a few days before the concert in Cvetličarna, which had been postponed (more than once) due to Covid-19 and which seemed like it would never happen, he had a nightmare. He dreamed "that there was one song that we just could not start and we tried again and again". He really had a lot of stage fright before the first concert this year. At the end of April and beginning of May, it still looked like there wouldn't be concerts in the summer, and then everything started to open up. They've never had as many concerts as this summer. "Those concerts hit us like a train, because we were neither mentally nor physically prepared for this many performances. We'd got used to rehearsing all day long and being completely self-sufficient. It was pretty hard before the first sold-out concert in Čin čin in Ljubljana, because the audience's expectations, as well as our own, were high. We performed with a new drummer for the first time, so the tension was even greater. When we stepped on stage, however, an enormous wave of energy that reflected from the audience washed over us, you could feel and see that people had been locked up at home, that they needed to relax, needed concerts."

"In these times, when the internet and media constantly bombard us with so much information, that defines us pretty strongly. So it seems like any kind of thinking for yourself, about anything, is already a dirty thought."

The epidemic was also a time when changes happened in the group, as during the creative process, they realised that not all members of the band have the same creative drive, so in the end, they switched their drummer. Since then, they have significantly changed the way they work. They have created, even if not completely intentionally, a spirit of band co-production, they've become more dependant on each other. They've realised that music demands that they help each other. It's also important that, when they start to grow wings from all the congratulations and praises, they pull each other back to solid ground. In interviews and articles, he is described as "the most recognisable voice of the new generation of Slovenian rock" or as "a rising star" and he feels honoured by those compliments, but in truth, those titles don't really tell him a lot. Hearing that from the people who listen to their music is what means the most to him. He says that it's not the sea of congratulations that caresses your ego, but rather certain moments and situations when you actually feel strong and in your own skin. "In the moment when the light shines on you on the stage, the feelings are indescribable, you feel like a god. That's the 'awesome' thing, not when someone tells you that you're a god." He adds that he thinks he's still the same Bojan he was years ago, when all those congratulations and titles didn't exist yet.

"The bassist Martin and I have been making music for almost half of our lives and I think that with time, we've managed to work through everything that happens during the evolution of a band. Our current success didn't come overnight, it is the result of a long period of work." The pivotal year for Joker Out was 2017, when it first started looking like this band could truly become 'something'. "From the start, you want it to be something more, but it's usually just a distant wish, like Cvetličarna used to be." Back then, however, after the single Omamljeno telo, all the positive response gave them the feeling that everything was being taken to a higher level. And there were several of those levels, they have jumped over many of them. "If I look at the situation objectively, it seems crazy to me that we sold out Cvetka (Cvetličarna, a.n.) twice with three singles." As he says, however, nothing that they do in the band is left up to chance. "Very early on, we put our heads together and had an in-depth discussion, first of all about our relationships with one another, and then about our duties, and we promised each other that we would never be afraid to tell each other what we wanted. When we determined our wishes, we turned them into goals, which we are now achieving." In his words, something that definitely contributes to their success is that they're surrounded by people who love what they do. "Now we work as a team, and if a team works well, it can't miss." In the future they want to release another album, and they're also drawn beyond the borders of Slovenia, to the Balkans.

As a band, they want to give people the things that drive them as artists - currently the prevailing theme in their lyrics is love, but also self-reflection and musings. These are very general, many songs talk about how young people sometimes feel constricted or lost and are looking for their place in the world. "We're currently not interested in politics and we don't plan to define ourselves politically one way or another, although our songs do feature some messages about society. We think that our job is to spread love and that people can, based also on our lyrics, come up with their own political opinion, without our imposition," he says.

And when I challenged him to use one of their songs to describe his current feeling before the concert (adrenaline, fear, uncertainty, expectations), he said that "there's a butterfly in my head that's just swimming through a weird universe. It feels like people around me are buzzing and not actually talking." Metulji ('Butterflies') is actually his favourite song. He wrote it at the same time as Omamljeno telo and it already meant a lot to him back then. He wanted to hear a recording of it, but today he says that he's happy that they recorded it later, because back then it wouldn't have been anything like it is today. "Now, the song is exactly as we imagined it back then, but didn't know how to embody it."

As the singer, Bojan Cvjetićanin is also the most recognisable and exposed member of the band. On the Slovenian scene, his role models are (were), among others, Tomi Meglič from Siddharta and Gregor Skočir, the singer of the band Big Foot Mama - "today I can already call them friends, they feel respect for us, as we do for them and for both bands. They come to our concerts, we hang out in private. Even though some people say that you shouldn't meet your idols, because then everything falls apart, now that I know Tomi and know who the person who made all that music is, I like listening to it even more." Among foreign frontmen, his favourite is Liam Gallagher, who became famous with the band Oasis. He was actually his inspiration for keeping his hands crossed behind his back while singing on stage. "I had a period of that 'Liam pose'... I didn't know what to do with my hands on stage, and when I put them behind my back once, it seemed like a good trick. Today, I grab the guitar more and more on stage, so I don't have an issue with what to do with my hands anymore. (smile)." What, then, are the key characteristics of a good frontman? "He has to be honest, genuine. There are many types of lead singers, Mick Jagger, for example, gives himself away completely, goes crazy and dances, while some others stand still constantly, but they both completely enchant you." He doesn't think about this too much, he simply exists on stage.

While some musicians, actors, or other performers are completely different, introverted, in their private lives and in the backstage, Bojan is generally very talkative and smiley. "Even as a little kid, as others have told me, I talked all the time, I wanted to socialise, with older people too, so it seems like I really never had issues with making connections. Now it's actually the same, there are just more people in front of the stage." At Poljane High School, which, as he has stressed many times, shaped him a lot as a person, he performed in a theatre group, so he already experienced the stage in the role of an actor, later he was on TV in the role of a host. These days, he still often says, half-laughing, that - if music won't be what he earns a living with - he'd like to be a sociology professor at Poljane. "But I heard they just got a new one, so I don't know how realistic the chances are."

But for now, he doesn't have to do anything other than make music. Bojan Cvjetićanin is also the author of the lyrics of most of the songs, in which, as he said, he's a kind of medium who conveys others' pain. While he did say not long ago that as a songwriter, he sometimes lacks unhappy emotions and that he doesn't know the pain of a broken heart, it's different now. "I got my dose of inspiration for quite some time..." He says that when making songs, it's almost always the music that comes first, and then the lyrics. "Most often, I take the guitar, lately I also sit at the piano, and I try to find the chords that sound interesting to me in that moment, and then I also sing along. Usually, associations form in my head and it feels like it suddenly becomes clear to me what the lyrics will be, sometimes I "accidentally" sing some lines that end up staying in the song and define what I will talk about." The lyrics are mostly, as mentioned, about love and self-reflection, but there are also a few slightly different ones among them. Aleppo, the duet with Omar Naber, who has been by his side from the beginning and helped him record demos, was created differently. The song, which talks about the city Aleppo in Syria, which is ravaged by war, was created when, in a TV report about what was happening there, he saw a young girl that inspired him. Then, he immediately started writing.

As someone who is sensitive to feeling other people's pain, does he ever fear that he could lose this empathy in the rather apathetic world we live in? "Just last year, there was a moment when I thought that I was completely alienated from myself, and I felt like I was never going to fall in love again. For a while, nothing excited me, I thought I had gone numb, but then something suddenly changed, I just waited for that natural 'click'." When songs become evergreen, hits that everyone sings and that connect generations, is it also important how much empathy the lyricists have?

"Absolutely. You have to have enough empathy to be honest with yourself. If you're honest, some people will connect very strongly with your lyrics. Nowadays, so many songs in the musical world are written just to be written. Not because they carry a real story within. And you can really feel that. It's that easy."

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post! And if you repost the photos, do not crop out the photographer credit.

#bojan cvjeticanin #bojan cvjetićanin #joker out

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lovelyjaem · 2 years

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just me and you | lee heeseung

PAIRING: heeseung x reader

SUMMARY: in which you develop a crush on a boy you see in the hallway everyday.

GENRE: strangers to lovers, high school au, hallway crush, fluff

WARNINGS: swearing

WORD COUNT: 3k

FEATURING: itzy’s ryujin

NOW PLAYING: just me and you by taemin

a/n: this is lowkey inspired but true events, except there is no lee heeseung in my school :( I also didn’t speak to anyone but anywayyy hope you enjoy!! :)) idk how I feel about this fic but please let me know what you thought!

The first time your eyes glanced at him, you had to do a double take because you couldn’t believe your eyes.

How the most handsome and beautiful person resided at your school and you’ve never noticed. You like to think you’re observant, knowing most of the people who went to your school, even if you didn’t talk to them. Clearly missing this boy though.

After the bell rings, signifying the end of your first period class, you begrudgingly pack your bag, slip in your headphones, and head out to walk to your next class.

You don’t know anyone in your first period class that well, so you walk to your second period class alone, and meet your friend in the class.

Listening to your music through your headphones, you make your way through the busy hallways of your school as all the students make their way to their next classes. Many people are walking through the halls, so you don’t even realize what you see.

He’s laughing at something the guy beside him said, flashing that bright smile to you, and everyone else walking in that hall. You can’t help but look back to take one more glance, deciding that he is the cutest person you’ve ever seen.

After the two seconds of admiring that mystery student’s appearance, you pass each other as you carry on making your way to your next class, going opposite ways.

You end up seeing the boy one more time that day. Walking to the cafeteria with your friend, Ryujin, you take a seat and begin talking about random things. Your eyes were merely glancing around the room, and you didn’t realize it was him if it wasn’t for that beautiful smile he seemed to always be wearing. He’s sitting with a group of boys a few tables down from you and Ryujin.

You didn’t even realize you were staring until Ryujin interrupts you, “hello, y/n? Are you even listening?”

You snap out of it and look at her. “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”

She narrows her eyes at you, “Who were you staring at?” She turns to follow your rough line of view to see who you could’ve been looking at. Except there are so many students in the room, it’s hard to tell exactly where you were staring off to.

“No one. Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Ryujin narrows her eyes suspiciously once again, yet drops the subject and carries on with the conversation you two were having before you zoned out.

You forget all about the boy until the next day.

As usual, you leave your first period class and start walking to your next period class. You notice him once again, a small smile still present on his face. He still doesn’t look in your direction, but you don’t mind. You’re completely fine with just admiring his beauty from afar.

During lunch, you glance around the cafeteria to see if the boy is in the same spot, and fortunately, he is. However, you make sure not to stare too much, as you don’t want Ryujin questioning you once again.

This same thing repeats the next few days. You pass him in the hall, just glancing, while he doesn’t even spare a glance in your direction. And then again at lunch, looking to make sure he’s still in the same spot with the same boys, the cute smile always on his cute face.

You have come to accept that you had a small crush on this mysterious boy you knew nothing about, just finding him very cute and attractive. You knew it meant nothing, just a silly little crush on a cute boy from school.

You never thought you would actually talk to him, until one day, when you were heading to the bathroom during your first period class to get a break from the class and some much needed alone time.

The second you left your classroom, you played the music from your phone, hearing it from your headphones, and headed to the bathroom. The hallway was completely silent and empty, a complete contrast to what the hallway was like in between classes.

With your headphones in, you didn’t hear the other footsteps in the hallway, and as you turn the corner, you walk directly into a nothing person, the both of you falling down from the harsh impact.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” You look straight in front of you to see your little hallway crush boy sitting on the floor opposite of you.

Your eyes widen as you realize who he is. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest.

So much for a good first interaction with him.

He quickly stands up onto his feet and walks over to you, sticking his hand out to help you up. “I should be asking you that. You fell pretty hard.”

Yeah, for you, you want to say.

But you ignore your thoughts and smile up at him, mumbling a quick, “thank you,” as you take his hand and he pulls you up. “Um, I’m okay. Are you fine?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” he chuckles.

The two of you stand there in awkward silence, avoiding eye contact, for what felt like forever. You don’t want to leave, wanting to actually talk to him for the first time, but nothing was coming to your brain.

Oh, maybe you can ask for his name!

You were about to, when he interrupts your thoughts, “Well, I should be getting to class now.” He gives you a small smile as he continues to walk the way you came from.

What the fuck. Should you call him back?

You turn around to find him long down the hall, too far for you to appropriately talk to him from this distance.

You sigh and continue your way to the bathroom.

You just hope that you’ll get another chance to talk to him.

When you returned to your class, all you could think about was that brief interaction with that boy, and how you’re about to see him again after class.

Which came too fast, and you threw your things in your bag to run out the door in order to see him.

Walking down the hallway, you notice him down the hall, looking down at your feet getting ready for him to pass. After a few seconds, when he gets closer, you look up at him.

And your biggest fear happens. He looks back at you.

Not only does he look at you, but he smiles too.

And what do you do in response? Look back down at your feet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what was that?

You could’ve at least smiled back.

You look back up at him, but realize that two seconds went by too fast and you already passed him completely.

You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long but fucked it up in a second. Two times in the same day.

When you arrive at the cafeteria later that day, you make sure to check again to see the boy. This time, Ryujin decides to confront you.

“Okay, that’s enough, y/n,” you turn back to face her, eyes wide with confusion. “Who are you looking for? I’ve tried to keep track, and I know it’s someone in one of those tables.” She gestures to the general area where your crush and his friends are sitting.

“Oh it’s nothing,” you laugh it off, “just someone I find kinda cute. I don’t even know who he is.”

She raises her eyebrows at you, “You’ve been watching him for days and you don’t even know who he is? But more importantly,” her expression turns more serious, “you have a crush and didn’t tell me?!”

You roll your eyes at Ryujin’s exasperation, “it’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a huge deal! Now,” she turns back in the direction of the boys, narrowing her eyes. “Which one is it?”

You turn your head in the same direction. There are currently a total of four boys fooling around at that table. You immediately spot your crush, a cute smile adorning his lips as he laughs with the others.

“Is it the one with brown hair?”

“Ryujin, most of them have brown hair,” you turn back to her, “It’s fine, you–”

“Is it the one looking this way?”

Your eyes widen and you whip your head back around to look back at the table to see that he was, indeed, looking towards you and Ryujin right now. When he sees you looking his way, he sends a small smile, but you immediately turn back to Ryujin, wishing you could just disappear.

“You dumbass! You weren’t supposed to turn!”

“You told me to!”

“I didn’t tell you to turn around! I just asked if that was him!”

“And how was I supposed to tell you without turning around?!”

“So I guess that confirms who it is then.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “is he still looking this way?”

“No, he stopped when you ignored him.”

You narrow your eyes at her, “Whatever, let’s just forget about it.”

So you do just that, carrying on with your lunch, not thinking about the cute boy who sneaks glances at you every so often, going completely unnoticed by you. It was also unnoticed by you the way his friends started teasing him about the fact he keeps looking in your direction.

The next day, in your first period class, you’re mentally preparing yourself for your daily hallway walk past. If he looks at you, you’re going to say hi. If he doesn’t, no big deal. You’ll just carry on like normal. No big deal.

Except it is a big deal, because you’re getting nervous. You start to get nervous whenever it comes to him, but you just blame it on your little crush.

The bell rings and your nerves start up again. You rush out of the room like always, hoping to see him as soon as possible.

You see him down the hall. Okay, he’s getting closer. Closer. Closer.

He looks your way and you make sure to send him a small smile first, and to your delight, he returns it back with his own.

Once he passes, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, ecstatic at your first, deemed good, interaction you had with him.

And to your delight, this continues for the next few days. You two will send each other a smile while passing each other in the hall. Then during lunch, you will each steal glances at each other, one unknowing of the other.

You’ve been wanting to talk to him, but are too scared to. What are you supposed to do? Stop him in the hall just to say hi? Go up to his rowdy group of friends during lunch to introduce yourself in front of all of them?

You’ll stick to the smiles for now.

All was going well, and you were pretty content with your interactions. Until, one day, Ryujin messages you, day of, telling you she isn’t at school today.

Just great. Now you have to sit all alone at lunch.

At least, that’s what you expected.

What you did not expect, was your hallway crush to make his way over to you and stand by your table, staring down at you.

“Uh, is this seat taken?”

You stare up at him for a few moments, processing the fact that he’s standing right before your eyes, let alone asking you a question.

“Oh um,” you blink a few times, “yeah! Like yeah you can sit. Not like yeah there’s someone sitting here. Because no one is sitting there, as you can see.”

What the actual fuck are you doing?

“I’m sorry, yes, you can sit.”

He chuckles at your rambling and you take a deep breath as he sits to calm your nerves.

But it was no use, because once you look up at him and see his beautiful eyes staring intently at you, you feel your heart rate raise again.

“I’ve seen you around a lot, but I haven’t really had the chance to talk to you.”

Okay, it’s your chance. You can finally talk to him. Don’t fuck this up.

“Yeah, me too!”

Silence.

Were you supposed to say more? You’re already fucking this up.

“I’m Heeseung.” he looks at you expectantly.

“I’m y/n,” you smile back.

Once you two get more comfortable, you fall into more natural conversation, laughing and talking for the whole lunch. You don’t even realize how much time has passed until the bell rings, signalling the end of the period.

“Oh, I didn’t even realize how much time has passed,” you chuckle.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your class.”

“Oh it’s fine you don’t have to–”

“I insist.”

So now you’re walking down the hall, side by side with Heeseung until you arrive at your class. You two exchange numbers before you saying bye and each going into your respective class.

You couldn’t help but feel so giddy at the time you just spent with Heeseung, immediately messaging Ryujin about it.

She makes sure to take credit by not being at school.

As you go to respond to her message, you get a message from Heeseung, immediately feeling excited from seeing his name pop up and going to reply.

This continued for the next couple of days, you two texting constantly; during class, at home, late at night.

You’ve spent all of today morning texting him, making sure to smile and say hi to him in the hallway, like you always would.

Today, however, Ryujin is at school, so you are currently sitting with her. You’re attentively listening to what she’s passionately talking about, until someone’s presence shows up at the side of your table, similar to yesterday.

“Hey, y/n.”

Your head shoots up as you immediately recognize that voice, to find Heeseung standing there, just like he did the other day. This time, Ryujin is currently sitting across from you, which confused you as to why he was here.

“Can I sit with you?”

Your eyes widen, glancing down at Ryujin to gauge her reaction, “um–”

“Yeah, of course!” Ryujin cuts you off, “I actually have plans with some other friends so I’m gonna go.” She stands up from her seat, shooting you a quick smile before heading off.

You look back at Heeseung as he timidly sits down in Ryujin’s no empty seat.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“So…”

“Why are you here?” you question, quickly realizing how that sounded, you correct yourself. “I mean– don’t you usually sit with your friends?” You glance back to his usual table to find his friends all staring in your direction, quickly looking away once they see you look at them.

He chuckles awkwardly, “Yeah, I just wanted to sit with you today.”

Your heart flutters at his thoughtful words and you try to suppress the smile growing on your face.

Soon enough, his smile falters a little and he looks everywhere but you, his leg bouncing up and down.

“Um, is everything okay?”

“Yeah everything’s fine!” He still avoids eye contact.

It’s silent for a few moments before Heeseung speaks up again.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

You look at him expectantly, waiting for him to ask his question. He finally looks directly at you and says, “do you wanna– like would you want to– maybe–” he inhales, “do you want to go on a date with me?”

Your lips part in surprise as Heeseung stares directly at you with a worried look on his face. You break out a smile, laughing at the uneasiness that crossed over his face at your lack of answer to his question.

“Of course I will!”

Heeseung lets out the breath he was holding in while awaiting your response, chuckling a little at how fast you agreed.

“Wow, I wasn’t really expecting you to say yes.”

You laugh, “Why wouldn’t I? I’ve been crushing on you since before we even started talking.”

He stops laughing at this and raises his eyebrows, “huh?”

Your smile drops as you process what you just confessed to, cheeks burning as Heeseung continues to stare at you with a smug look on his face. “You’ve liked me for that long?”

“Um, well, basically,” now it’s your turn to avoid eye contact, looking everywhere but Heeseung. “I used to see you in the hallway and I thought you were really cute.”

He laughs at that, and you swear it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. “And you never talked to me? Maybe we could’ve been going out sooner.”

You huff, “fine, we don’t have to go out at all if that’s what you want.”

He quickly straightens up, “no! I want to go out. Trust me, it’ll be nice.”

You narrow your eyes, “And what exactly does nice entail?”

The corner of his lips lift up a little, “Well, I was going to surprise you, but I guess I can just say it,” he playfully rolls his eyes as he continues, “I was going to take you out to this really nice restaurant and then I know this really pretty place by a waterfall to watch the sunset, just me and you.”

Your heart clenches at his sweet and thoughtful words and you can feel the butterflies erupt in your stomach as you get more and more excited for this date.

“Do you not like the plan? I can totally change it if it sounds boring or if you don’t want to go, I get it.”

You didn’t even realize you were silent until Heeseung worriedly interrupted your thoughts. You quickly reassure him by expressing your thoughts, “No! I was just thinking about how lovely that sounds, I really can’t wait.”

Heeseung smiles at your reassurance, and as you two carry on with your lunch, your mind occasionally goes to thinking about the date Heeseung has planned for you, and you really can’t wait until you can fully enjoy his company, when it’s just you and him.

thank you for reading <3

#enhypen #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen fic rec #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff

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jpitha · 4 months

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Between the Black and Gray 4

First / Previous / Next

At the docking ring, Fen and Ma-ren led Gord all the way down to the end. Past the regular passenger ships, past the scheduled freighters, past the bays for warships, past the semi permanent bays for residents to the last seven bays, thirty three though forty. Before they reached bay thirty three Gord could see the bulk of the Starjumper. It was easily five times larger than any ship here.

Walking past a simple barricade they stepped into an area of the docks that were not visited very often. The noise and bustle of the docks receded until Gord could only hear their footsteps and the thrum of the air handlers. Fen walked up to an airlock and gestured dramatically. "Here she is. Spyglass. She last moved when my Grandparents were young and Mom was a kid the last time she had power."

Gord walked up to the airlock. It was dark, with no lights, and no indicator over the door. a light layer of dust surrounded everything. "Oh, what happened hon? What did they do to you?" He whispered to the ship. He turned to Fen and Ma-ren "How do we open the airlock?"

"There's no power; we have to open it manually." Ma-ren shrugged. "We should be able to pump that lever there a few times and then the outer door will open."

Gord looked around and found the lever. It was worn and clearly well used. "What about shore power from the station?"

Fen laughed. "We can't afford those fees. Grandma says back when she was a kid they used to pay to run shore power during celebrations like weddings and funerals. These days though, nobody really cares anymore."

Gord stared at Fen and Ma-ren for a long while before turning back to the airlock and pumping the handle.

"Uh Gord?"

"Yes?"

"What's going on? You're acting like Spyglass is alive or something. Like, we left someone behind. If Spyglass was alive, we'd remember. Grandma would have mentioned it, Mom would have mentioned it, anyone would have mentioned it."

"There was a time when Spyglass was alive." Gord sighed. "She was a friend of mine. I'm worried for her. I want to view the logs and figure out what happened."

Fen blinked. "Gord, that doesn't make sense. If you were friends with Spyglass that would make you...."

Gord didn't meet her gaze. The airlock slowly opened as Gord worked the handle. After a moment it was wide enough for a person to enter. "Come on, let's see what's inside."

The inner airlock door was wide open. One the one hand, Gord was happy that he wouldn't have to pump the handle to manually open it, but having the airlock wide open was a bad sign. Gord took out two palm lights and handed one to Ma-ren and turned on the other.

Fen was surprised at how... cramped it was. She hadn't been inside Spyglass since she was a kid, but it always seemed to big when she was little. Now, she realized the halls were only a little taller than her and how small the rooms where. Gord started walking down the hall towards the command deck.

Ma-ren and Fen followed Gord. As soon as he was aboard, he seemed to know exactly where they were going. Occasionally he'd swing his light over some detail and nod, or look at something else and grunt, but he wasn't lost.

After a few minutes, they made it to the command deck. Now they were further into Spyglass than Fen or Ma-ren had ever been, and as evidenced by the floors, it had been a long time since anyone else was here. The floors were dusty and what few boot-prints there were were also covered by a layer of dust. Gord wiped away at a sign on the door. At the top, it said "Command Deck' in Colonic, but under it was another phrase in a different language.

"Gord, what's that under the sign in Colonic?"

Gord looked up. "Oh? Ah yeah, Spyglass was refit right after Colonic took over as the main language for the colony worlds. The bottom text is the same thing in Late Period English." He read the words out loud. The language was strange to Fen and Ma-ren, very staccato.

"You can speak it Gord? Are you a scholar?"

Gord chuckled. "I can, and I'm not. I don't need to be a scholar to speak my native language. Gord opened a panel on the side and stick his hand into the cavity and rummaged around. There was a click and he was able to slide the door open.

Fen and Ma-ren stepped in after Gord and gazed around. They could only see tiny parts at time from their small palm light, but the room was large, with many seats and was all oriented towards a large screen at the front. Gord sat in a seat in the middle and touched a screen on the arm. "Completely dead. I would have expected something, even if was just dim lights." He stood. "Come on ladies, I'll need your help."

"Why?" Fen was having a good time looking around the old command deck, and didn't want to leave just yet.

"We're going to restore power. At least to critical systems."

"What? How?" Ma-ren's fur poofed out and her tail twitched worriedly. "Everything is dead and cold."

"Well yeah, but it wasn't always this way, and so long as you haven't stolen parts-" He turned and looked at them "You haven't stolen parts, right?"

They shook their heads.

"Then we should be able to get her up and at least lit. Spyglass had 6 reactors back in the day. We only need one for lights and heat. We get her lit, we can check the core and figure out what happened.

Gord lead them back down the other end, down stairs and across halls, deep, deep within Spyglass. Fen was sure that nobody had been down here since after they docked. It was odd. She expected things to be... grimer than they were. Sure it was dark, and sure it was dusty, but things weren't leaking or broken, and there weren't any vermin about. It was quite different than the station.

They reached the Reactor Room, and Gord once again did his trick with the panel to open the doors. As soon as he stepped inside, he swung his light around the room and gasped.

"What? What is it?" Ma-ren walked in behind him and looked around. It was a long hall.

"The reactors! There are supposed to be six of them! There's only two left!" Sure enough, Fen and Ma-ren followed Gord as he walked down the hall, his boots clanging on the metal grating as they passed empty space after empty space, finally coming upon two huge, identical machines at the very back of the hall. Gord peered at them and tisked. "Well, so long as they're not both broken in the same way, I can get one going again." Without looking up he gestured at Fen and Ma-ren. "There's a tool kit over in the locker behind you. Please go fetch it. There should be some battery lights too, let's see if we can get a little more light on this.

"It took a few hours to get everything set up, and they were well past curfew before they were finished, but they had set up the lights and Gord had the reactor in more pieces than they thought possible. Gord knew where everything was, even things that he shouldn't know. He had told them that the medical ward was a few doors down and they were able to find some folding chairs to sit, and even some cots so they could take a nap. Gord never seemed to have to take a break. He didn't eat, didn't get tired, just continued to tinker. Fen and Ma-ren dozed on the cots while Gord worked.

Finally he sat back, and closed the panel. "Ladies? I think we're ready for ignition. It's made up of spares and most of the other reactor, so we'll never be able to run the Stardrive or the weapons, but we can at least have lights and heat and the computer.

"You fixed it?" Ma-ren yawned hugely.

"Not really. Just rigged it together. This old model reactor is very durable and resilient. I'm a little surprised the crew that brought you here wasn't able to keep it running. Everything needed was onboard."

Fen nodded. "Grandma mentioned that hardly anyone knew what to do or how to work the ship, there was a lot of guesswork and hoping involved."

Gord didn't reply. Instead he turned back towards the reactor. "I'm going to start it, watch out."

Before Fen and Ma-ren could ask what to watch out for Gord pressed the starter. There was a hum and a loud clack of relays, followed by a warbling hum that started slow and went faster and faster until there was a sound like a burst of static.

And then, with hardly any fanfare at all, the lights came up.

Before they could cheer, there was a cacophony of alarms and klaxons and sirens. Gord jumped at the noise, and then took off towards the command deck. Fen and Ma-ren hurried to catch up.

In addition to the alarm and siren sounds, there were voices warning things. They'd speak in two or three languages that Fen didn't recognize and then in oddly accented Colonic she heard "WARNING. WARNING. REACTORS OFFLINE. BACKUPS OFFLINE. HULL DAMAGE. WEAPON DAMAGE. STARDRIVE DAMAGE. SYSTEMS CRITICAL." and it would repeat.

They made it to the command deck and Gord was sitting in the middle seat, his fingers dancing over the pads until the alarms were silenced one by one. Sighing in relief, and continued to poke and prod at the pad. "I'm turning off running lights. They've been off for decades, no sense in telling station authorities that we have power now." Gord was speaking to them without looking up.

"So Gord, is Spyglass alive or not?"

"I don't know. She's not replying to my usual queries." He looked up at the room. "Hey Spyglass! You Up? It's Gord!"

Nothing.

"Come on, let's go check the core. Something's up."

They made their way deeper into the ship; deeper even than the reactors, until they reached a door that was almost completely hidden. There was no frame around this door, and no panel on the outside. There wasn't even a sign in Colonic. Just a small line of text in that angular Late Period English language. With the power on, Gord didn't have to rummage in the walls looking for an override. He approached the door and touched it with both his hands, palms in. There was a click and the door slid smoothy to the side.

This room was completely different than the others. It was barely more than a closet, bathed in a blue light. From the floor to the ceiling were racks and racks of electronics and half of it blinked and hummed. The other half was dark and silent, separated by a large black mechanism that was stuck haphazardly over things. When Gord saw the mechanism he said something in his old language that Fen and Ma-ren didn't understand, but the meaning was clear.

"Fuck."

"What?"

"It's a shackle." He gestured towards the black mechanism. "It's meant to lock down AIs, to prevent them from being intelligent. Spyglass is here, but she's trapped."

"Someone is...inside Spyglass?" Ma-ren's ears twitched.

"Gord shook his head. "No, she is Spyglass. The ship is her body."

"Oh no" Fen shuddered. "So is she aware of herself?"

Gord nodded. "Probably, yes."

"How long has she been like this?"

He peered at the mechanism without touching it. "This looks like late third Empire tech. Right around The War." He straightened up. "She's been locked down at least five hundred years."

Fen and Ma-ren looked at eachother. Five hundred years? "She's... going to be upset when we unlock her right?"

Gord turned to them and smiled thinly. "Ma-ren, I would like to take this moment to state how pleased I am that you assumed we're going to unlock her. To answer your question, she is going to be a mess. But, I have some skill here. I can help her."

Fen nodded. "Okay then, Gord. How do we free her?"

"Luckily" Gord turned back to the shackle "They were never meant to be hard to install and remove. We just have to enter the code." Gord touched a panel on the front and a keypad rolled out from behind.

"What's the code?"

Gord chuckled. "It's zero zero zero zero one."

Fen blinked. "You're kidding."

"I'm not. The Empire set up these shackles, but didn't trust that anyone could remember the code to remove them, so they hard coded it to something easy."

"But then anyone could have removed them."

"This is true, and wonder, Fen, why they didn't." Gord typed in the code and pressed the start key at the bottom.

The shackle lit up and started glowing green. After a moment, the racks of equipment behind it received power and started glowing like the others.

"That's it?" Ma-ren peered at the equipment.

"That's it." Gord looked around. "We should be able--"

Their conversation was interrupted by the PA crackling to life.

There was a piercing noise.

A woman was screaming.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #writing #humans and ai #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #Between the black and gray

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pinkpastelcalesti · 4 months

Text

LANDSCAPING LOVE || Bakugou Katsuki x Reader || Chapter II.

SUMMARY -> Tired of bouncing back and forth between the U.S. and Japan after graduating college, you’ve finally secured the career of your dreams: You’re Japan’s first heroics cartographer, a title bestowed upon you due to your quirk and specialty, that creates geographic maps for hero agencies across the country. While your work is highly respected and sought after, you’re known for a more niche reason among your coworkers at the Dynamight Agency: the food you make is fucking amazing. When Dynamight himself inevitably gets word that you’re coming for his cooking title on his own turf, chaos ensues and you find yourself competing against your boss for not only best chef, but also to win over his heart.

CONTENT/WARNINGS -> Pro hero AU, agency reader, reader with a quirk, fem/AFAB reader, reader is originally from America, reader is bilingual (English and Japanese), strangers (more like coworkers that don’t get a chance to speak much) to friends to lovers, fluff & chaos, minimal angst, suggestive humor.

LENGTH -> 6.4K

MASTERLIST

You wanted to crawl into a sewer hole and never come out of it. Just… live in isolation for the rest of your career. The mortification is too much.

After Dynamight’s parting words to you, you had immediately ran to your workshop and nearly tackled Naomi before shrieking at her about letting your drunken rant slip out to your coworkers. In her “defense,” she claimed that she hadn’t expected for the story to reach his ears.

It really didn’t help her case much. After explaining what the fuck had happened in his office, your coworkers quickly calmed you down and told you he probably would leave it alone. Surely he wasn’t going to take it seriously, right? He had to know no one was stupid enough to try and challenge him like that.

Right?

Wrong.

It took one week before you received the news from the PR manager that Dynamight Agency was hosting its annual beginning-of-the-year potluck to kick off good vibes and bring in positive camaraderie among fellow coworkers, your own boss himself even planning to attend.

That last bit of information was absolutely not helping you in the current moment either. You had discovered the poster and subsequent email sitting in your inbox yesterday, and while you were still somewhat excited to go, you were still on edge after the commentary Dynamight had left you with a week prior.

You absolutely would not allow for his snarky remark to hinder you from going to town on free food and drinks. You needed to knock it out of the park and make new connections at the agency as well.

Understanding this, you began brainstorming recipes at night after your work shifts ended, thinking of endless foods that were not only easy to cook and transport, but that were able to bend to everyone’s taste. You decided you’d make two dishes for the potluck, one being vegetarian-friendly for your coworkers that couldn’t eat meat for personal or religious reasons.

Your first recipe of choice was Sopa de Albóndigas, a meatball soup recipe that was for sure going to be a hit with those that liked warm soups during the winter months, as it was still freezing out. You’d learned the recipe from your suitemate in your dorm your freshman year of college, her incredible cooking skills being well-known among all the floors of your residence hall. She was more than happy to teach you the recipe among others from her home country of Mexico.

Your second recipe would be a vegetable pot pie, essentially the same as a chicken pot pie, just without the meat. You figured that it would be a great introductory southern food for everyone. It was your personal favorite to make as well, with the flaky crust you make never failing to bring you to damn near tears at its incredibleness.

You could go for spicy foods to one-up your boss and piss him off some more, but you figure that making it too spicy will turn off most people from actually eating it. You’d much rather have people savor it than fanning their mouths and screaming for milk.

It was nearing the end of January quickly, which meant you only had a little less than two weeks to prepare yourself, since the potluck happened the second week of February.

You steeled your resolve, noting that you were absolutely gonna wipe the floor with your recipes and make it known that Dynamight’s doubt in your cooking skills was unwarranted.

You also craved the reaction from him when he inevitably realized that your drunken words weren’t empty threats. You fully believed you could probably compete with him if you really wanted to.

So, with this newfound sense of motivation, you hurriedly worked to finish up Pro Hero Deku’s patrol map decor, Pinky’s request for a sketch-up of her and Uravity’s shared agency building, and an interactive, digitized, graduated symbols map for Dynamight that related back to the crime rates he was still working with.

If you were going to complete your side quest, you needed all your projects to be completed or close to it in order to lessen up stress.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Three days before the potluck, you were asked by Leo if you were going to bring anything to the event.

You were walking back from a meeting with the technology department about questions you had on a certain coding error you kept running into on multiple different geographic software systems you used regularly. Leo had seen you before you saw him, and called out your name as you had just reached the elevator to go back up to your department’s floor.

“Yo, (L/N)! Got a second?” You threw a glance to him and agreed, stepping away from the buttons to let others waiting go in front of you. “What’s up?” You inquired, straightening your posture. “You excited for the potluck? Heard that it’s gonna be pretty exciting this year,” Leo spoke in an excited tone. “Apparently they’re allowing wine and champagne as long as we promised not to go too crazy. No hard liquor though.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. You definitely were more hyped now that Leo had told you the drink menu was expanding beyond soda and juice. “I am very much excited,” you said with a lopsided grin. “I can’t wait to see what it’s like for the whole agency to get together for once. I’ve heard some of the interactions between departments can get pretty interesting during the white elephant game.”

You weren’t lying; Carl had told you a couple days ago that white elephant got pretty heated since everyone participating pulled out all the stops to bring either the best gifts known to man or gifts that were sure to send you reeling in embarrassment.

Even though it was considered a Christmas holiday tradition, the agency played the game regardless to make the night more entertaining, following up with other games like cards against humanity or uno extreme. You found it silly, hearing about games that you’d often frequently played during high school and college still being utilized in the adult world at a social event. You weren’t complaining, however. You could go pretty rabid during uno, especially the extreme version. It was truly a timeless classic.

“Oh yeah, that game is definitely not one you wanna miss. Are you going to bring anything food or drink-wise to the event?” Ah, there it is, you thought smugly. You knew what Leo was trying to do; it’s not hard to pick up on him now that you’ve interacted enough times. You could read this man’s intentions like no tomorrow. He was trying to sniff you out and see if you might try anything to compete with your boss.

You decided to bite the bait, just slightly.

“Oh yeah, definitely! I’m bringing two dishes and a dessert,” you placed your hands on your hips. “Figured that I should go all out since it’s my first potluck here.” Leo’s eyes lit up in what you could only imagine was pure mischievous joy. “I heard Dynamight’s bringing food as well. You think you’ll be able to compete?”

You pretended to think on it for a second before flashing him a determined smile. “You bet your ass I do.”

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

The day of the potluck had the whole agency abuzz. People were way more bubbly and willing to work together to get tasks done, looking forward to 6 p.m., when the party would begin. You were all assigned a half day, ending your own shift at 2 p.m., which left plenty of time to cook and take a shower to dress yourself up. You’d been proactive and shopped the previous afternoon, hoisting a bag full of vegetables and ingredients through your front door and nearly passing out at the weight of your groceries in your arms.

Wrapping up in the workshop and bidding your coworkers a temporary farewell with a promise to see them in a few hours, you stepped into the hallway and began walking to the elevator for all of three seconds before you heard your name being called in an all-too-recognizable voice.

Dynamight was coming in hot on your left and you felt that icy feeling crawl up your spine once more. I swear to god if Leo said something to him this soon, I’m jabbing a caliper up his ass. You met him halfway and took in his current outfit. He wasn’t dressed in his hero uniform, but rather a black compression shirt and a pair of charcoal grey sweatpants. He was wearing black combat boots, similar to his uniform’s, but missing the orange and green accent colors. Absolutely fucking foul of him to look that good, you thought, gripping the handle of your bag a little harder than usual before casting your eyes to meet his.

“You better be bringin’ a damn dish to the event tonight or I’m kicking yer fuckin’ ass,” he spat out, crimson eyes narrowing down at you. You let out a small sputter of surprise, shocked by the sudden confrontation before he continued. “Wanna see if your cooking skills are shit or not fer myself.”

Crossing your arms, you sent an equally simmering glare back, paired with a shit eating grin. “Same to you, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. I wanna see if you’re living up to the rumors or if people are just too scared to tell you your kitchen skills suck.” You bit back, shifting your gaze to his biceps once again before realizing and glancing back up, seemingly not being able to keep your grubby little eyes away from something so biteable. You just wanted to nip him once. It’s like a dog’s urge to go after a squirrel.

Your boss let out a scoff at your retort, getting closer to your face with a look that sent shivers through you. “Watch it. Told y’before, didn’t I? You’re gonna eat your fuckin’ words ten times over.” He was borderline sneering at you by this point. You really must have struck a nerve with him after word got out that fateful Monday, nearly a month ago now.

Letting out a sigh that sounded as if Dynamight was mildly inconveniencing you rather than being up in your face borderline threatening you, you dramatically turned your head away from him. “I sincerely hope your recipes can make up for the amount of empty threats that come out of your mouth. Didn’t take you as the type to hold a grudge against someone for simply being better than you.” You were absolutely feeding into it now, shocking yourself slightly with the words that were coming out of your mouth. Never in your life would you regularly try pissing off a hero with a deadly quirk, but something about Bakugou Katsuki made you want to push all his buttons and then some.

“S’not a damn grudge. I’m gonna prove to you that you’re talking out of your ass, sweetheart.” That pet name was absolutely not necessary, sending your heart into a spiral. Your eyes widened and you sputtered out a quick, “Wh— whatever, dude. I’ll be there and that’s final. Now move, I’ve got recipes to make.” You sidestepped your boss and muttered under your breath what a prick as you made your way back to the elevator, feeling a pair of ruby eyes burning a hole into your back before you heard a rough, “heard that, you brat.” You let out an exasperated noise just as the doors opened to the lift. “Screw off!” You hollered into the hall, not bothering to stick your head out and make sure Dynamight heard you. You knew he did, because he barked in laughter at your flustered actions.

You were absolutely not going to lose tonight. You were going to make sure of it.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Arriving back home to your apartment, you quickly shed off your work bag and clothes, switching into a comfortable pair of sweatpants with your university’s logo running down the leg, partnered by some soft socks and a graphic t shirt that had been cut at the collar. You were about to be in your kitchen on your feet for the next two hours, which meant that you had to be comfortable as possible. You’d already hit the button on your speaker that sat on your kitchen island and pulled up your favorite playlist, gathering the pans out of the shelves by your feet and placing them in their designated spots.

You were ready for this. You pulled out the ingredients for the first recipe that would take the longest, which was the veggie pot pie. It would take around an hour and 10 minutes total, according to the recipe you frequented for making the dish.

The Sopa de Albóndigas would only take 35 minutes total, which meant you were looking decent on time. It was nearly 3 p.m., later than you wanted to be home due to your bitchboy boss deciding to seek you out right before you clocked out. Wait a minute, why did he seek me out? He definitely knew I was gonna come, especially since it’s my first year at the agency, you pondered this for a moment before snapping out of it and reminding yourself that now was not the time to play overthinker.

Your dessert that you were making had been a last minute decision. You had decided to bring two large New York cheesecakes along with you, on top of the main dishes you were currently making. You’d figured that a classic American dessert was a wise choice, but it meant taking a heinous amount of time to prepare it. You’d completed the both of them the previous night, pouring every wish to the Gods that it went well, as cheesecake was not an easy recipe, even for you.

They were both chilling in the fridge at the very moment, waiting to be taken to the party. You were incredibly grateful that you’d finished them before anything else because they took a whopping 8 hours minimum to make, a majority of the time being dedicated to the cakes having to rest in the fridge for a minimum of 6 hours.

You had pulled out all your dry and wet ingredients for the crust of your pie and went to work mixing and kneading the dough until it was prepped and placed to the side. Next up was to saute your veggies in butter, allow them to soften, then came the flour, veggie stock and heavy cream.

After the filling had been mixed together and formed a thick, gravy-like consistency, you placed it on top of your crust that had been laid out in a comically large baking tray. Placing the second part of the crust on top, you threw it in the oven for around 35 minutes or until the crust became a flaky golden brown.

During this time, you prepped your ingredients for the Sopa de Albóndigas. You truly felt like Gordon Ramsey himself was blessing you as you dashed around your kitchen, making sure that your all-purpose wagon that you mainly used for groceries was prepared to carry your food to the agency.

All you had to do now was allow the soup to simmer, pull the pot pie out of the oven, and have enough time to wash your hair, style it, throw on makeup, and put on an outfit that was cute but wouldn’t be missed if you got it stained from food and drinks.

You fucking loved your life right now.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

You’d managed to shove everything into the wagon, including your prized cheesecakes, and pulled it all the way to the agency with no issues. You’d even realized you had finished everything with an extra 15 minutes to spare, which went to perfecting your eyeliner and screaming in the mirror when you fucked it up too hard and had to redo your whole eye.

You were dressed in a black and white gingham dress that was actually a romper. It was by far your favorite dress that you were willing to get a little dirty since the company you bought it from had incredible affordability with their clothing. You didn’t want to ruin it, but if it came to it, you could always purchase a new one.

You’d paired it with fleece-lined black leggings, a white blouse to go underneath the dress since it was sleeveless and far too cold for bare shoulders, and your favorite black boots.

A coworker in the technology department that you’d met with earlier in the day opened the door for you as she saw you approach the doors, letting out a whistle of shock. “My Gods, (Y/N)! I thought they were kidding when I heard you were bringing food!” You gave her a sheepish smile. She was an older woman that didn’t regularly participate in the office gossip, which meant she most likely had no idea about the words you spoke in terms of your cooking showdown with Dynamight.

Your coworker had pointed you in the direction of the serving table, where people were still placing their handmade and pre-packaged foods and drinks. The potluck was taking place on the first floor of the lobby since it had the most open area. They’d gone all out for decorations, pretty sage green and burnt orange decor filled throughout the building. There were rows of large tables set up on the far side of the room, making you smile in nostalgia.

It reminded you so much of the family get-togethers you had during the holidays growing up, with the white folding tables set up in your grandparents’ living room, with matching plastic folding chairs.

You approached a spot where you could set out your dishes and quickly scribbled their respective names and a short summary of ingredients on a namecard, accompanied by your name as the one who made it. You had reached into your wagon to pull out your desserts when you heard the coworkers back towards the entrance murmur in excitement.

“Hello Dynamight, sir! Welcome to the potluck!” You heard one guy speak out loud. You sat the cheesecakes in the dessert section with their namecards and pushed your wagon to a little area where people could put their bags. You breathed steadily, in and out, you repeated in your head. It was finally here: round one (and hopefully the last?) of your showdown with your boss.

You beelined it to find your team members before Dynamight could see you. It was still early on in the party, having only started 10 minutes ago, so you figured it would be nice to chat with them before the inevitable came and bitchboy Bakugou came to grab you. Spotting Kanako’s purple highlights among the crowd towards the left side of the building, you made your way over and a smile overtook your face as you heard Carl and Naomi shout your name in excitement.

Naomi flung herself at you before complimenting your outfit. “You look stunning! You’re making me feel bad for showing up in basically what I wear everyday.” You pinched her cheek playfully. “You look absolutely gorgeous no matter what you wear, Naomi. You all do, really. I’m jealous most times.” Carl had shown up in a nice pair of corduroy pants paired with a dark green button up, and Kanako was dressed in a beautiful deep purple dress that ended at her knees, matching her hair and hugging her figure nicely. Naomi was dressed in black slacks and a pastel pink blouse.

Your team dressed up nice, if you did say so yourself. You all conversed with one another, grabbing glasses of champagne and discussing an upcoming project that the city had requested of your department, citing that they were in desperate need of a new terrestrial map that depicted a rough draft of the new quirk incident-management building that was going to be built towards the end of the year. You were all anxious to take on the job due to the fact that the head of Musutafu’s Urban Planning division was not only an absolute nightmare to work with, but pretty misogynistic as well. He must have been kicking himself for having to bend his back and ask for your help, as literally 75 percent of your department was women. Carl was a girls girl by nomination, so you considered it 100 percent, but no one would get it like you and your team did.

As you had begun switching the topic and were discussing the apparent lovers quarrel between two of your coworkers in the call center department, you heard the tap of a mic. Looking at the front of the floor, you could see Atsuno awkwardly standing with the mic in his hand, like he’d been forced to give the introduction at the last second.

Behind him, Dynamight stood tall, his arms crossed over a very expensive and soft-looking orange sweater, with a pair of black slacks and dress shoes accompanying his outfit. Good gracious he’s dressed like a slut and I’m enjoying every moment of it like a freak. You just knew he probably smelled good too. Your stomach flipped in joy when you saw that Red Riot, Pinky, and the rest of Dynamight’s friend group had all shown up as well.

This bitch brought his friends, how sweet! You cooed internally, imagining that your boss was probably so unbelievably soft for his friends behind closed doors. You’d heard just how close each of them were from Eijiro during days that he was free to grab a coffee with you while you were in the city for an assignment.

Atsuno cleared his throat, beginning his little speech. “Welcome to the annual potluck that our agency has for the beginning of each year. We hope that you enjoy yourselves tonight and behave, with no incidents like the previous year, please,” your eyebrow shot up towards your team at the mention of such a thing. Kanako whispered in your ear that last year, a man from analytics had tackled a coworker from finance after he had assumed he was making moves on his girlfriend, only to find out that the finance guy was, indeed, gay, and also worked out a fuck ton. Analytics dude ended up getting suspended for a whopping 3 months after he got his shit rocked.

You nearly burst out laughing. Of course it had to happen in the agency that was run by a resident hothead. Apparently the attitude must rub off on his subordinates as well.

“—make sure that you meet new people, eat and drink to your heart’s content, and do your best at the games set up all around the floor. Here’s to a great rest of the year.” Atsuno raised a glass of champagne as you and everyone around you repeated the last sentence in unison, raising your own glasses. As everyone began to make their way to different areas around the room, you spotted an orange blob making its way to you out of the corner of your eye and steeled yourself. Now or never, you thought with a grimace.

You turned your body fully towards Dynamight as he stopped a few feet away from you, his signature frown on his face. Joined by him were Pinky, or Mina, as she had told you to call her after you were introduced to each other a year prior, and Eijiro, the one who had orchestrated the meeting. You turned your attention to the redhead as he smiled at you brightly with all his sharp teeth, calling out your name fondly. You slung your free arm around him in a hug. “I’m glad to see you here! Figured you wouldn’t wanna miss it, especially after what you said about Bakubro last month.”

Your mouth hung open as you fumbled for your words. “How in the world did you hear about that? I swear to god it’s reached everybody, I was drunk and in the privacy of my own home for crying out loud,” you pouted up at Eijiro. Mina let out a laugh as she hugged you next, her perfume reminding you of a candy shop along the coast.

“Bakugou was so flabbergasted someone had dared to challenge him that he told us after a briefing! Couldn’t stop pissing himself about it.” Her lips formed a mischievous grin as Bakugou brought his hand down on her head, shaking her back and forth. “Shut the fuck up. I didn’t do none of that shit,” he growled, the tips of his ears showing just the slightest bit of pink if you squinted hard enough.

You were smiling behind your glass before your boss turned his attention to you. “Don’t fuckin’ laugh at me, either. We still ain’t settled a damn thing.” You wanted to roll your eyes so hard that they’d spin like pinballs in a machine, but refrained from it and instead took a sip of champagne, your lip gloss lining the rim of the crystal drinkware. “We can settle it right now, if you’d like. My dishes are already on the table, Dynamight.” You made sure to repeat his hero name back to him in a sickly sweet voice, hoping to piss him off just a bit more.

Not even bothering to reply with words, Dynamight took you by the arm with an uncharacteristically gentle hold and marched you both off towards the self-serve tables. You heard the laughter of your boss’ friend group fade with the more steps you took away from them.

You grabbed two plates and handed one of them over to your boss, who grunted out a thanks before you served yourself your pot pie. “We‘ll have to pick up a bowl in a minute since my second dish is a soup.” You eyed the way Dynamight was scanning over the table with a scowl on his face before his gaze landed on your crock pot sitting among the others lined in a row.

“Didn’t strike you as a soup person,” he said as he handed you a fork from the tacky serving basket with plastic silverware. “thought you’d be the type to screw those recipes up.” You gawked at him and his audacity for the upteenth time since the start of the year.

You nudged him along as you both stood off to the side next to a small standing table that wasn’t too close to the large crowd of bustling people. It helped you hear each other better. “You really doubt my cooking abilities that much?” You asked, lowkey hurt by the assumption but masking it with a tone of indifference.

“Nah, just tend to assume since every fuckin’ person I’ve met in this agency says they can’t cook for shit.” You let out a laugh as you stabbed your fork into the crust of your food. “Understandable. Most people I know can do basic cooking, which isn’t a bad thing at all, but they’re too scared to try more complex recipes because they’re afraid of screwing up,” you stated between mouthfuls of food. “I keep telling them all that failing a recipe, no matter how simple, is quite literally the only way you’ll learn in the kitchen.”

He let out a deep hum in response. For talking high and mighty just a few minutes ago, Dynamight seemed almost calm as his towering figure stood beside you. If you glanced around hard enough, you could catch the stares of some of your coworkers, filled with surprise and wonder. You assumed it was because of how uncommon it was to see an agency worker other than Atsuno or PR manager Ria interacting with him this much.

You understood the heavy intimidation that came with Dynamight and interacting with him, but you never felt frightened of him. He might be a top hero, but he was still a person. His fiery personality and inability to keep his mouth shut was still going strong, but his attitude had changed a lot since his high school days, according to Eijiro.

You took a look at him from your peripheral, noticing that he was staring down at you as well, sharp eyes seemingly taking in your figure. You quickly looked anywhere but towards him, eyes landing on your team a short ways away, engaged in what looked to be a game of uno at a table, a couple marketing department members surrounding them. You already knew they were probably all getting their asses handed to them by Kanako, who was a master at card games of any sort.

You’d found out the hard way one night when you had all experimented with a variety box of different card games at Kanako and Carl’s flat. She wiped the floor with each one of you, only losing twice the whole night (which also felt like it was on purpose for the sake of sparing your team’s feelings).

A small smile etched its way onto your face as you recalled the memory. “Your shit ain’t that bad. Needs more garlic powder.” You turned back to Dynamight once more, blinking a couple times to process what he’d just said before your smile was replaced with a frown.

“I’m fine competing with you but recommendations weren’t in the agreement.” You huffed. “Agreement don’t exist. I tell it like it is. Be thankful I even said something anyways.” He spoke, his tone full of irritation.

How rude, you thought helplessly. “Okay then, let’s see your shit next,” you grumbled, lowkey hip-checking him as you threw your plate and fork away. He let out a tch sound at your actions, but didn’t hurl an insult your way.

He handed you a new plate before steering you over to the pan he’d brought with him. Upon further inspection, it was his infamous mapo tofu. Unlike Carl and his unfortunate “fuck you” spice genes, you’d been able to build up a spice tolerance with the sheer amount of spicy food you ate and made over the years. You could only hope the hard work paid off if its as spicy as Carl was making it out to be. “Here.” Dynamight spooned some of it onto your plate as you let out a thanks to him.

Walking back to your previous spot together, you made sure to have a canned drink on the ready in the off chance that you couldn’t bear the spice. You picked one of the tofu pieces up with your chopsticks and placed it in your mouth.

Seconds passed.

Dynamight was staring down at you, analyzing you for any sort of reaction he could make fun of you for.

You swallowed, dabbed your mouth with your napkin, and stared back up at him. “You call this spicy?”

You so wished you’d had a camera on you the moment you registered the look on his face at your words. His eyebrow twitched first before he let out a loud, “What the fuck do you mean “you call this spicy?” Did you even fuckin’ eat the whole goddamn piece?” You wanted to laugh so bad but knew it would result in possibly getting the lights knocked out of you, so you refrained.

“Course I did, dickhead. Wanna watch me do it again?” You smirked at him as you proceeded to shove three pieces of tofu in your mouth at once. “It’s pretty good. I think you’d benefit from throwing in Carolina reaper flakes.” You knew you were pressing into his growing agitation but couldn’t help it.

His eyes did a quick glance at your lips as your tongue darted out to sweep some of the sauce back into your mouth before he looked away, a very deep scowl etched in on his face. “You’re fuckin’ crazy. Next time, I’m forcing you to eat a whole damn pepper and see how you handle it.”

You shot an eyebrow up at him with a suggestive smirk. “Next time? So you admit defeat, Dynamight?” Your whole body shuddered involuntarily at the glare he sent your way. “In your dreams, brat. You’re pissin’ me off with your kitchen ego.”

“MY kitchen ego? You’re the one that threw a tantrum when you heard the rumors that one of your subordinates was challenging you,” you argued back. “You’ve got a pisspoor attitude when it comes to someone stealing your thunder.”

You grabbed onto his sleeve after you finished your plate and tugged him along, ignoring his shout of “hey!” At your sudden tugging. Thrusting a bowl of your Sopa de Albóndigas into his hands, you fixed your own bowl of it and once again returned to your spot in the corner.

“Eat,” you said before you spooned the broth into your mouth, your eyes sparkling. You’d absolutely nailed it, making a mental note to send your old suitemate a message on instagram and thank her again for sharing her family recipe. “You’ll enjoy this one better since it’s a pleasant spice. Not everything has to burn going in and out.”

He grunted in response, silently eating out of his own bowl as you both returned to people watching once more. “Not bad. What’s the dish called?” The rumble of his voice, when not shouting or agitated, never failed to make your legs a little weak in the knees. God, please do ASMR when you retire, you pleaded mentally.

“Sopa de Albóndigas, it’s a recipe that’s seen in a lot of different cultures, but this one is Mexico’s version. Learned it from a friend in college.” Your face held another small smile at the memory. “Sappy motherfucker.” You let out a startled noise, glaring up into Dynamight’s eyes. “You’re a total asshole, I hope you know that.”

His wicked grin only grew. “You act like you don’t like it.” Your face felt like it was on fire as you whipped your head into the opposite direction, refusing to speak to him. This man is a fucking tease and he doesn’t even realize it. Your hands began to sweat a little, and not from the heat of the soup in your grasp.

“Let’s call it even this time,” you began after a couple minutes of slightly uncomfortable silence on both of your ends. “I think we both did a pretty good job. Next time we need to try making the same dish and see who did it better.”

Dynamight shook his head in agreement. “You don’t seem to be over this competition either.” You shrugged your shoulders in response. “It’s kinda fun. I like pissing you off.” You said with a smile.

“Bold words coming from someone who works for me.” He responded brashly. “Fire me and I’ll make sure you can’t use any of my maps ever again.” You said simply. Your boss rolled his eyes and moved to respond before getting interrupted by Naomi bouncing her way towards you.

“You’ve had your competition with Dynamight, come join us! Kanako wants to talk to you about your opinion on the new hero calendars that just came out,” she said excitedly as you let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m coming, one sec. Can you grab me a glass of champagne while you’re up and running?” You asked her as you put your finished bowl and spoon in the trash, Dynamight close behind you. “Yeah, no prob.” Naomi responded before walking towards the drink bar as you turned back to your boss.

“You heard the woman, duty calls,” you spoke with a lazy smile. “Thanks for making my first event with your agency so memorable. It was a lot of fun.” He gave you an unreadable expression before his neutral frown returned. “Don’t hafta thank me. Thank the others who were in charge of the whole thing.”

You let out a small laugh. “It’s your agency, though. So it’s still within your responsibility.” You waved to him as you walked off, but didn’t get far before turning back around, forgetting to mention something earlier.

“Oh yeah! I made New York style cheesecake. Help yourself if you want any!” You spoke before turning around again and trotting over to your team that cheered when you came into view. You could feel a pair of eyes burning into your back, but when you tried to sneak a glance behind you, Dynamight was already walking back to his friend group that called him over.

He’s such a fucking character, you thought fondly, before joining in on the conversation about pro hero Shouto’s photos in his calendar version, a picture that had you fanning your face dramatically because his abs were on full display for the month of April.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

That following work day, you had been in your office a whopping 35 minutes before Carl came running through the door, a wild look on his face. “What’s wrong with you? You look pale as hell,” you said with a frown, hopping up from your desk and walking up to him.

“Some fucking rookies in the PR department made a google form about voting for who’s dish was best between you and Dynamight from last night,” Carl spoke through gasps of air. Your body felt like it had frozen over again as you rubbed at your temples. “I— I ran here because Dynamight will probably get wind of it in a little while. He’s not in the office right now, but Atsuno is. And I guarantee you that he’s heard about it already. That man ends up telling Dynamight everything.”

You sighed before nodding your head. “Not surprised that happened, but I’m worried about his reaction to it. Maybe he won’t care too much about it? It really was just us talking to each other about it yesterday, we didn’t involve anyone else.” You pondered out loud as Carl sat in one of your visitor chairs.

“Yeah, you might get lucky. The guy’s probably got too much going on to be concerned about a stupid google form.” Carl mused.

After allowing him to catch his breath, you both walked into the workshop to begin on the city’s project, too busy focused on trying to add polygon layers into your software to remember the conversation about the PR department rookies that you’d had earlier.

It was right after lunch when your office phone rang. You jogged out of the workshop and reached the phone just in time before it got sent to voicemail. Picking it up, you didn’t even have enough time to get out a greeting before Dynamight’s voice came through the receiver.

“Wanna explain to me why there’s a google form about us floating around in my goddamn agency?”

You froze.

You were so fucked.

#pro hero katsuki x reader #pro hero bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #ross works

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writingsforwhatever · 5 months

Text

magnolia (m.s.) part 2

part 1 part 3

summary: reader has a friends with benefits arrangement with matt (what is there to explain?)

genre: ANGST

word count: 1k

a/n: hi! please read this before pressing 'Keep reading' ~ this story was written years ago, it was for my creative writing and same as all the stories I posted here. I used different inspirations for this, from stories I've read before whether book or online. Again, this is fiction.

The sunlight streamed through the blinds, causing her to squint. She heard Matt's gentle breaths as he slept beside her, his body facing downward on the bed while his head turned towards her, granting her a view of his flawless face, even in slumber. He breathed quietly, not even a snore.

Last night felt like a dream. He took her to a rooftop restaurant with a stunning view of the city lights, where he confessed his love and decided to end their arrangement. She kissed him and cried, agreeing it was a stupid set up intended to only break their hearts. That was all Matt needed to hear.

Eventually, they ended up having sex in every corner of his place. He was grateful for his and his brothers' decision in giving each other the chance to move out and have their own place at times like these because he could not be seen fucking her in the kitchen counter by Nick where he eats his cereal every morning. And that is something Matt preferred not to think or worry about ever while he's buried inside of her. It also gave Matt a chance to be his own self after living with them for half of his life.

Familiarity with his apartment comes naturally to her, almost surpassing her knowledge of her own place. A forgotten scarf of hers, delicately hanging behind his front door, stands as a tangible reminder—a subtle representation of her presence in his life. Just like the scarf, she lingers, an ever-present figure, intricately woven into the fabric of his existence.

After a long day at work, she made her way to the coffee shop located on 11 Bow St, Somerville. He had texted her earlier that day that they needed to talk, this however set off an unsettling feeling inside of her. Walking down the familiar street, on the way to the apartment complex where Matt resided with his brothers—Chris down the hall and Nick on the second floor—she couldn't shake off an eerie feeling creeping upon her. Was Matt regretting in making her his girlfriend already? Why not just tell her over text? Was something wrong? With each step, she prepared herself for their conversation. More thoughts flooded her mind, yet she had no inkling of the surprising news Matt was about to reveal-something she hadn't even considered ever in her life.

When she stepped foot in his apartment, she secretly hoped it was a dinner surprise, him cooking her favorite meal, maybe an intimate bath he prepared for them while she was out; easing her worries from his text message. However, she stumbled upon Matt seated on the couch, his sobs echoing through the room. He sat with his hands on his head. His eyes, red and swollen. Coat and hat tossed aside carelessly. Tousled hair evidence of repeated running of fingers through the strands. As she took in the scene, he glances at her, blue eyes filled with tears.

"Oh my god, Matt. What happened? What's wrong?" she gasped, sinking to her knees before him and holding his trembling hands. He hugged her, his tear-streaked face buried in her shoulder, wetting her black turtleneck.

He couldn't manage a response, only releasing more sobs.

"What's going on, Matt? You're scaring me," she asked again, her voice soft with concern, her eyes reflecting the sorrow etched on his face.

In all the years she'd known him, she'd never witnessed Matt this distressed, not even close to this level of despair.

Matt struggled to speak through his tears. "I'm sorry, baby. I really am sorry."

Concern turned to deep worry. "Okay, now you're really scaring me. What happened? Why are you saying sorry to me? Did you and Chris have a fight? Or Nick—" she attempted to guess, while still trying to comfort him.

He interrupted, locking his gaze with hers. "It's Grace."

Her mind raced, a million more thoughts are now going through her head. Grace who?

"Who's—" she started, her voice trembling.

"It's the..." He faltered again, tears streaming down his face. "It's the girl I met at the bar in Canada."

With a nod, she silently urged Matt to continue. His tone conveyed an overwhelming sense of despair, as if his entire world had collapsed in an instant and shattered right before his eyes.

"She called me this morning. I don't know how she got my number, maybe from my friend way back in college, I don't know," he explained, his voice trembling, unable to meet her eyes.

It finally clicked in her mind—the vague mention from her friend last month about the familiar girl she saw Matt with. This woman, she was their former schoolmate at UMass. Until this moment, Grace had been a complete stranger to her, but she knew Grace was connected with some of her own friends, a mutual acquaintance.

Someone she had never expected would come between them, someone who hadn't crossed her mind—an unexpected threat she hadn't even considered. It was unfathomable, someone seemingly unassuming becoming a disruptive force in their shared life and the love they held for each other.

She didn't even know the woman.

"Okay, Matt, just breathe," she pleaded, trying to calm him down.

He rose abruptly, taking a couple of steps before turning back to face her, she mirrored his movement, standing and locking eyes with him, bracing herself for his next words.

"She's pregnant. And it's mine. And she's decided to keep it," he confessed through tears, his voice quivering, his gaze fixed on hers, as he searched her face for a reaction.

Her legs felt weak, but strangely, no tears came. It was that sensation of the world collapsing around her. The instinct to run away, to escape the situation and never lay eyes on him again clawed at her, she felt the need to stab her heart with a knife, that's what it felt like anyway, but she knew that not a single cry from her, not a single tear shed by Matt, nor any surge of anger from anyone could change the clear reality they found themselves in. Their life, as they knew it, had come to an end. For her, it wasn't just about their shared life crumbling; it was her own life, her plans, everything she had envisioned, all shattered. He was going to be a father, and despite the torment and agony within, she understood that no amount of despair or heartache could alter that irreversible truth.

tags: @querenciasturniolo @athenalive

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfic

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outerspacebisexual · 2 years

Text

A Place in this World - Steve Harrington

Book A - Part One: Teardrops On My Guitar

This is part one of my new Steve Harrington series loosely based on Taylor Swift songs. Please let me know what you think!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve Harrington was always there, just not for you.

*Set sometime in s1, i guess?

Word count: 2.04k

Warnings: swearing, mean king steve, best friend eddie, bullying, i think that's it?

Masterlist

“You know, the longer you look, the uglier he gets.”

You jumped at Eddie’s voice as he appeared beside you. Rolling your eyes, you smacked him on the arm and said, “Liar. And how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He smirked.

You gestured to him. “Just, like, appearing. It creeps me out.” Shifting your eyes back over to Steve, you could feel Eddie doing the same. From where you stood beside your open locker, you could clearly see him down the hall. Well, him and Nancy. Standing very close. Very, very close.

You’d see this happen many times before with many different girls, but this time, Steve seemed genuinely struck by Nancy Wheeler.

“Come on, Stalker, it’s lunch,” Eddie said, clamping his hand down on your shoulder, dragging you out of your slowly darkening thoughts. His sympathetic smile made you huff, but you followed him to the cafeteria anyway.

As a resident of Hawkins, you’d known Steve all your life. You’d even been friendly in middle school when your parents had gotten to know the Harringtons through some business deal. You and Steve had begun to see each other more and more outside of school. Your parents shoved you and Steve together in a room at dinners and the forced proximity aided in becoming friendly enough that you said ‘hi’ to each other at school. That had some-what awkward friendship had continued into high school, but when Steve was with his friends, he wasn’t the same Steve that you knew. He was King Steve, and you were definitely on the opposite side of the social spectrum. So, the casual chats in the hallways reduced and faded to tight-lipped smiles as you passed each other.

Your friendship with Steve had also probably been affected by your tiny, little crush on him. I mean, who didn’t have a crush on Steve Harrington at some point? He was Steve Harrington. But you knew that he was King Steve and you were little old you.

The fact that you lived in a trailer and were friends with none other than Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, meant that you were labelled the same. Which didn’t so much bother you as it was inconvenient. There were so many times that you, Eddie, and your other friends were berated for your satanic cults and music taste and dress sense in the halls when you were just trying to live your life.

Plus, you’d been friends with Eddie for years. Neighbours first, then accidental run-ins collecting the mail, then casual hangouts. He’d even taught you how to play guitar, though while he preferred electric, you preferred acoustic. While he slacked off at school, you actually tried. That conversation had been a sore spot in your friendship for ages; you warning him he wouldn’t graduate, him not caring. Now, you’d given up. If he wanted to risk getting kept back, then it was his funeral.

By the time you’d made it to your table, the volume of the cafeteria combined with your late night at a gig last night had a headache beginning to take shape.

You zoned in and out before Eddie clicked his fingers in front of your face.

You blinked looking up to see everyone at the table’s eyes looking at you. “What?”

Eddie groaned and leaned back in his seat. “Are you serious? I just explained it all.”

“Explained what?”

“The basics for the new campaign. We were trying to decide on what afternoon to play.”

“Oh,” you said, shuffling food around on you plate with your fork. “I don’t mind. I—uh—I don’t even know if I’ll be able to play this one.”

Gasps and noises of protest started up, but you quickly shut it down. “All right, quit it. Some of us,” you said glaring at Eddie, “have jobs because we’re poor. The next few months have me working nearly every afternoon after school.”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Can’t Robin take some of your shifts?”

“Nope,” you said. “She’s cutting back her hours, hence me getting more.”

“You can’t take one afternoon off a week? It's just a job. This is our brand new campaign I’ve been working on for months.”

At that, you frowned. “Eddie,” you warned. You’d already talked about your job with him numerous times.

Eddie didn’t back down. “Come on,” he continued. “This is the only campaign where all of us are finally playing, you can’t be the only one who doesn’t. Just tell your boss you need one afternoon off a week.”

“I won’t tell my boss that I need time off to play a stupid new game when he’s the one paying me. I need the money. Just because your uncle lets you do whatever you want doesn’t mean everyone else can just accommodate for you.”

Immediately, you could see the anger building in his eyes, but between your headache and seeing Steve this morning, you couldn’t care less.

He leaned forward and sneered, “Glad to know my campaign is just a stupid new game to you. I’ll be sure to not bother you about it in future.”

The guilt was slowly starting to creep in, but you were too mad to even think about apologising right now. You stood up and started gathering your things. Your headache was building to a crescendo and if you didn’t leave right now, your head was going to explode.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Away from you.”

He scoffed again, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Very grown up.”

You didn’t even bother to reply before turning and leaving. Your hands trembled as you got closer to the door.

But before you could make it through them and to your locker where your pain meds were, someone was standing in your way.

It took you a few seconds to recognise that this person wasn’t just standing there by accident. When you looked up from the floor it was Carol Perkins standing there, signature smirky smile plastered across her face.

You attempted to move past her, but she stepped into your way again. You heaved in a breath. “Please move, Carol.”

She tilted her head. “Where are you off to in such a rush, weirdo? Did you and your little boyfriend break up?”

“Carol, please,” you said again, but she didn’t respond. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around a chunk of your hair and pulled it. Hard. It instantly brought tears to your eyes, and you shoved her back, making her stumble. God, that fucking hurt.

You managed one step towards the door when Tommy H. was suddenly in front of you. “Did you just push her, freak?”

“What’s going on here?” Your head spun to the left to see Steve standing there. His eyes flickered between you and Carol and Tommy H. In your mind, you were relieved. It was Steve. Even though you weren’t necessarily friends still, he would help.

“What happened is that she pushed me for no reason,” Carol spat. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you to keep your hands to yourself?” She reached out and gripped your hair again. You tried pushing her away again until you felt a cold liquid running down your head. The sticky substance ran down the side of your face.

“What the fuck?” you blurted out, stepping back when she let go. One step back and then Tommy H.’s orange juice was thrown all over your shirt, making it stick to your skin as you blinked trying to see through the juice that had stuck to your eyelashes.

“Steve,” Carol said.

Your eyes shot to Steve’s.

He wouldn’t, you thought. It was Steve. It was still Steve.

You were wrong.

The drink in his hand was added to the mix of liquids already covering you. You swore you saw him grimace and a flash of something cross his face, but you were moving before you could even think about it.

The laughter from not just those three, but their friends and others in the cafeteria echoed as you race down the halls.

Your locker. You had to get to your locker.

Your hands were slippery as you tried to enter your combination, made harder by the tears clouding your vision. In the distance, you heard the doors slam again and you worked faster, finally getting it open and snatching your pills before slamming it shut and hurrying to the exit.

Fuck school.

Fuck them.

Fuck Steve.

The sunlight outside was almost blinding making your head pound worse. You needed to leave.

Your plan to escape though was foiled when you realised that you’d caught a ride with Eddie this morning.

Reaching up to touch your hair, you felt the disgusting way it had begun to dry.

The exit doors slammed open, and you heard your name being called. You didn’t turn to look at Eddie as he reached you, you just started to sob. He pulled you against him and you didn’t even have it in you to hold him, arms hanging by your sides.

“Hey,” Eddie said, pulling away and running his eyes over your face and hair, down to your ruined shirt. “Let’s go.”

The drive to Eddie’s trailer flew by as you sobbed into your hands.

When he helped you out of his van and into your house, your sobs had finally subsided to silent tears. He sat on your bed as you took a shower, and his own head was in his hands as you emerged, hair dripping onto the carpet.

He looked up and you were both silent as you stared at each other. The silence stretched until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Eddie, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t,” he said, causing your breath to hitch. “Don’t you dare apologise to me. I’m the one who should be apologising to you.”

You shook your head as you settled back against your headboard. Your pain meds had already started working. “No, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you. I do want to play, but I have to work these shifts or I’ll lose my job.”

“Hey, it’s OK. I was an asshole. I’m sorry for making you feel so bad about working. I was just bummed because I really wanted you to play. It’s no big deal.”

You scoffed. “Don’t lie, Eddie. It is a big deal to you, and I’m sorry I can’t take part this time.”

Eddie shrugged and reached down to pick up your guitar from where it rested beside your bed. “We’ll do a One Shot sometime.” He strummed a few chords, and the sound instantly had your body untensing. “Are you OK?” he asked after a few minutes.

A few moments went by before you said, “I hate them. I hate him.”

Eddie just sighed. “Yeah.”

“I just don’t understand why they hate us so much. They’re so mean to you and me and Gareth and everyone who they deem not cool.”

“I mean, we do have the whole ‘satanic cult’ thing going on, to be fair.” You huffed and he chuckled, placing your guitar down on the bed beside you. “Do you want me to stay?”

He would, you knew. If you asked him to, he would stay for however long you wanted him to. But you really wanted to be alone right now.

You shook your head and he nodded once. “I’ll be home, so just come over whenever.” And then he was gone.

The silence was deafening as you closed your eyes and laid down. You mind wouldn’t stop replaying the fight with Eddie and the incident with Carol and Tommy H. and Steve. The tears threatened to start again as you thought about it.

You knew that you weren’t close. You knew that he was King Steve and popular and those guys were his friends.

But you thought he was your friend, too.

You pulled your guitar closer as you finally let the tears go, fingers flicking over the strings quietly.

Steve Harrington wasn’t a nice guy.

He was just as bad as everyone else.

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction #outerspacebisexual

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captain039 · 7 months

Text

PART 6 Intertwined with a mortal

Ascended Vampire Duke!Astarion x human!reader

Slight alpha Duke!Wyll x reader

Bridgerton x Astarion 👍🏻

Warnings: Olden times, swearing, age gap, tension, slow burn, vampire Mates, vampire things, angst, sexual, harassment, bigger reader, fat shaming, 18+, angst, Astarions trauma, anxiety, depression, learning to touch and love, big dislike for children lmao, AOB, artist reader, manipulation, jealousy

Previous part <-

You were biting your nails as you sat with Wyll by the lake, mind elsewhere.

“You’re miles away Milady” he chuckled lightly and you sighed.

“Did something happen?” He asked and you glared ahead.

“Yes! I don’t know what his game or problem is!” You snapped, but also trying to be mindful of those around you.

“I don’t understand this and my mother is so invested in me marrying you!” You gritted your teeth.

“Would it be so bad? Duke Ancunin is not a potential suitor, he’s a problem” Wyll said and you stared at him.

“To be married to me?” He added his eyes shy and you froze, had he not realised you weren’t interested in him? You loved his company he would make an omega beyond happy.

“I can’t marry you!” You hadn’t meant to snap and the poor alpha flinched and you felt horrid instantly. Your heart dropped and you saw his hurt instantly, you stood and apologised before briskly walking back to your family ignoring his calls.

It’d been two days since then and you were prepared to rip the skin off your bones. You cried in frustration throwing your canvas and throwing your paints and jars on the floor before crying. Your father and mother had rushed in as you sobbed. Your mother took hold of you and took you away from your room to sit out in the hall as your mother called the servants. Your mother held you as you sobbed and clutched onto her.

“I can’t do this!” You cried while she hushed you.

“I just ruined a perfect marriage” you added.

“Sweetheart,” your mother said softly.

“Duke Ravengard wasn’t your one, you were friends nothing more” she said and you looked at her as she smiled softly.

“Your dancing with Duke Ravengard was fun and familiar your dance with Duke Ancunin was passionate, a silent dance of two souls becoming one, it was amazing” She wiped your eyes.

“The heart wants what the heart wants” she said bringing you back to hold you as your father came out to sit on the other side of you.

“I snapped at him, I ruined the friendship too” you explained and she sighed softly.

“I’m going to invite their family for tea, please explain to him what’s happening, and put his thoughts to ease,” she said and simply nodded.

At the dinner you ate awkwardly, picking at your food before you all went to the living room, one of Wyll's half sister playing the piano. You sat next to Wyll feeling nervous as you glanced at your mother who gave you an encouraging smile.

“Duke-“

“Lady-“ you’d both spoken at the same time and chuckled softly.

“You first” he said nodding and you hesitated.

“You first I’m going to mess up,” you said and he smiled, but nodded.

“I apologise for what I said, it was self-indulgence,” he said sighing.

“I know your heart is already intertwined with Duke Ancunin and I cannot get between that” he said and you felt tears roll down your face. You quickly wiped them away.

“You’ll make an omega really happy, you’ll be happy with them I wish nothing less for you,” you said as he held your hand and kissed the back of your hand.

“I just-” you sighed.

“I know,” he said softly and you sagged a bit, giving his hand a small clench before looking at his sister playing.

The next party was held at the Ancunin residence, the place was grand and darker in terms of decor, it made the pale elf stand out more, like a star in the night. You had kept to your mother's side, hoping nobody would ask you to dance. Chatter filled the room as you stayed silent briefly glancing to the Duke. He kept his perfect act, but there was an unseen tension in his body, his body trembling subtly every now and then. As the dancing began, it was slower and more intimate dancing, the music somehow suiting him and the feeling in this room. You were off to the side seeing Wyll dancing with an omega you briefly remember, Lady Lila, she was smiling softly as the duke led her. You sensed his presence though and you turned seeing the duke standing there, red eyes on yours as he held his hand out, no words spoken as you took it.

As you joined in his arms you felt your previous feelings melt away as you stayed in the moment, feeling his cool hands holding you. You sighed lightly his scent filling your nose. No words were spoken, but the dance spoke for you, apologies and new feelings as you moved together. As the dance ended you both bowed as you gave a small smile before leaving back to socialise for the rest of the night.

His mind was suddenly at ease as he felt your hand in his, your familiar warmth touched his body and your sweet honeyed scent filled his nose. You looked perfect tonight, a cream dress with lace on the top, pearl earrings and necklace to match, and your hair done up differently again. He felt an urge to untangle it, watch it flow down and frame your face. He didn’t find a need to say anything, say something flirtatious or tease you, he felt at ease and nobody else mattered in this moment. He didn’t know what he was feeling, the way you moved with him so effortlessly like you were made for dancing together, the way you relaxed against him despite not knowing him or his monstrous secret. He felt different, you weren’t his prey, he was yours and he’d already fallen into your trap.

Next part ->

#astarion x reader #ascended astarion #x reader #aob #au #bridgerton inspired

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beautifulphilosopherbird · 24 days

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Dungeon Meshi rewatch ep 4 notes

dearest @eelo I figured I might as well use this opportunity to fulfill a wish of yours and bring my ass back to tumblr 🤣🤣 when this goes terribly wrong and I start living on here again I am totally coming for you btw

new dungeon structure info:

3rd floor is the Golden Castle that is now in ruins

there are toilets in the busy areas of the dungeon, scattered around

skeletons of former castle residents roam the halls LMFAO look at this dude

most monsters on 3rd floor are bones or decayed so there aren't many you can eat but

GOLEMS ARE HERE IT'S THE GOLEM GARDEN EPISODE lmfaoooo love it

Senshi uses golems as a garden bc they've got perfect conditions to grow food

he kills them by hitting their core so that they can harvest veggies

it's against the law to activate magical creatures without permission (Senshi plants Golems without permission lmfao)

you can revive them by replanting them

side note: I really find it interesting how death is not as big of a deal in this universe. It's not like they don't care at all, but there doesn't seem to be question of "is it really the same person/creature"? maybe it's just me, but I feel like I'd worry about that a lot if I lived in their world.

this quote from Senshi!!!! YES! I agree and I love him for this

turns out Senshi gets his fertiliser by cleaning the toilets on this floor oops (Marcille is NOT happy about that lol)

another great quote from Senshi, this whole part is awesome. he's basically saying that if he stops cleaning the toilets and tending to the Golems, the whole dungeon will change because the monsters from lower floors will come up to take the place of the Golems etc. It's a delicate ecosystem and everyone plays a part, which is why hunting and eating monsters and giving back to the dungeon is important for maintaining balance. I love it 10/10 lore and world building

Senshi used the veggies to barter with some customers on the lower levels but they probably won't have time for them rn

there are merchants in the dungeon and it seems kinda hush hush secret club vibes but they get in (and then almost get thrown out bc they brought veggies to trade with a bunch of criminals ig lol)

oh the orcs are here! I forgot about them (btw they're Senshi's "customers from lower floors"), anyway they kill everyone but Senshi & friends

the red dragon has been showing up near their settlement so they had to run to hide on the 3rd floor

LMFAO they steal their veggies and Senshi asks if they can stay in their camp so

orcs think elves look "barbaric" which is also a really nice touch

HAHAHAH I forgot gilrfailure and the orc arguing while Senshi is happily making bread

anyway, bad blood between Orcs and Elves, they each have their own version of the events that paints the other side as the worse one (another nice, realistic touch of world building)

the orc mentions the whole "defeat evil magician, get castle/dungeon" thing and asks Laios what he'll do when he gets it (which he hasn't thought about)

RIP Crafty

random detail: orc cuisine is spicy

awww that ending was so wholesome

Laios says he'll think about what he'd do with the castle/dungeon if he got it. King Laios is a funny idea tho maybe a bit scary too

random screengrabs:

the carrots sticking out of Laios' armor are sending me aofhoashfoiah

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #bread #lmfao #dunmeshi ep 4 #dunmeshi rewatch #I love this anime #thank you eelo #dunmesh

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venus-haze · 2 years

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You Go To My Head (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: You and Elvis have been friends since the summer his family moved to Memphis; you’ve gone through everything together. You and Elvis stay close while living your own, wildly different lives, but Elvis realizes his feelings haven’t been platonic for a long time when he invites you to a recording of the Comeback Special, and you bring your new boyfriend along.

Note: This is based on an anonymous request. I took some liberties with the request and also in regards to timeline stuff with this fic for plot purposes. Reader can be read as gender neutral. Please read the warnings. DNI if you’re a minor or post thinspo/ED content. Requests are open🔮

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: This is a yandere fic, so expect dark themes such as emotional blackmail and obsessive and manipulative behavior, which some people may find disturbing or triggering. Do not interact if you are under 18.

Summer was sweltering in Memphis, and on one of the many days you spent with your best friend, you took refuge in a drug store with a soda fountain, squeezing through the other people who had a similar idea to the empty counter seats. You and Elvis ordered your usuals, spinning around while waiting for the cashier to give you your drinks.

Elvis had just recorded some songs with the Sun Records label, and they were slowly getting airtime around Memphis. It was exciting to hear his voice on the radio, especially after years of telling him that he should get into music professionally. In fact, the drug store was playing ‘That’s All Right’ on its jukebox, which you could tell made Elvis a little embarrassed.

You perked up in your seat. "Oh! Did I tell you I have a date this weekend?"

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "With who?"

"Jack Taylor," you answered proudly.

"Jack? He’s no good," Elvis said as the two of you were handed your sodas.

"Elvis, he got into Harvard," you argued.

"Exactly, how many miles away is that? You’ll never see him. Train to Boston’s what, four days?"

You sighed. He had a point, he always did when it came to the guys you were interested in. You sipped your soda as you stared out the window.

"C’mon, I didn’t mean to make ya upset. I’m just trying to look out for you."

"I’m not upset," you said.

You and Elvis lived in the same building, two doors down the hall from each other, and quickly became friends when his family moved in right before high school. You were jealous he was an only child, when you were stuck in a two-bedroom apartment with your parents and three younger siblings. Your parents had to turn the living room into a makeshift bedroom so you and your siblings would have enough space. As a result, you became a fixture at the Presley residence. Elvis was without a doubt your best friend, so you trusted that he wanted to look out for you.

"Why are you in such a rush to get a boyfriend? Then you won’t have as much time to spend with me," he said, only half-joking.

You stuck your tongue out at him. "Because smarty, it’s weird third-wheeling you and Dixie all the time."

"You’re not a third wheel, Y/N."

"Tell that to me when we went to the state fair and I had to sit next to some smelly old man on the Tilt-a-Whirl."

Elvis’ expression shifted. "He didn’t do nothin’ to ya, did he?"

"Lord, no. It was just—I felt outta place," you said, before perking up a bit. "Hey, why don’t you set me up with one of your friends?"

"No way, those guys aren’t good enough for you."

"Elvis, as far as you’re concerned, there ain’t a man in Memphis good enough for me. So I might as well run off to a convent and take my vows."

"As if they’d let a hellion like you join," he joked.

You laughed, throwing a straw at him. "Jerk!"

You knew he was right about Jack. It wouldn’t be more than a summer fling, and you were hoping for something long term like Elvis and Dixie had. You hadn’t expected your summer to be turned on its head with Elvis’ career suddenly skyrocketing after his performance at the Louisiana Hayride. You tagged along with his parents and Dixie to support him and his band in their biggest performance yet.

Their set became pandemonium when Elvis started dancing, and you and Dixie had shared an exasperated look at how chaotic the girls in the audience were going over him. Maybe you were just used to it, hanging out in Beale Street clubs with Elvis and watching the performers there, but you found it almost comical how those girls seemed to be losing their minds. His mama, however, didn’t find it comical at all.

After that night, everything changed. Elvis had quit his job to tour with Hank Snow’s outfit, moving his way up the marquee with every town they stopped in. You were able to go out and see him more than Dixie was, so you’d bring whatever notes or gifts she had given you to pass along to him. You could tell the Colonel, who was apparently in charge of the whole show, didn’t exactly like you hanging around Elvis so much, especially when the two of you would be practically glued to each other after Elvis got off stage. You thought it was weird how people assumed Elvis and you were together, and you always had to be the one to correct them.

You supposed it worked out, though, because Elvis told you that the Colonel was making him breakup with Dixie as part of some convoluted scheme to increase Elvis’ appeal to his mostly women audience. You didn’t see much of Dixie after that, but you felt like you were seeing Elvis as often as ever, even with his packed tour schedule and increasingly controversial TV appearances. When he bought Graceland, it seemed like everything the two of you had talked about in your wildest dreams in high school was coming true.

Even when he wasn’t at Graceland, you were there. You’d missed the Presleys being your neighbors, and his parents were so used to you being over all the time that they didn’t blink when you’d drop by. Most of the time, his mama was already expecting you to stay for dinner.

You lived in a small apartment in Memphis, even though Elvis had offered you a space in Graceland. As much as you appreciated it, you didn’t want to seem like you were taking advantage of his generosity. Plus, it made your dating life easier to have your own place, since you knew Gladys told Elvis about every boyfriend you mentioned to her, and he’d call you within a day or so to talk you out of dating whoever it happened to be.

You met Joe while you were out drinking with friends, one of the rare nights you weren’t at Graceland. He was handsome, rugged, with dark hair, deep brown eyes and calloused hands from working in construction. He had the faintest scar above his left eye, which he informed you was a result of his days as an amateur boxer in years past. A salt-of-the-earth type of man with an incredible sense of humor, you gladly agreed to see him again, writing your phone number on a napkin.

Elvis, of course, immediately found fault with Joe when you’d brought him up the next time you visited him at Graceland, insisting you needed a guy with a steady job who could provide for you. He dropped the news that he had been drafted to you during his rant, and you almost thought he did it just to make you feel bad. His eyes watered as he showed you the notice, though, and you wrapped your arms around him.

“Two years is nothing,” you whispered. “You’ll be back here before you know it.”

“I don’t wanna leave,” he confessed. “The Colonel says it’ll help my image, but I don’t wanna leave you or Mama or Graceland.”

“I’m sorry. If there were something I could do, I would in a heartbeat.”

“I know. I love you, Y/N.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you think you’re never gonna see me again,” you said, stroking his hair. “I love you too, though.”

The two of you fell asleep on the couch in the living room, awoken the next morning by his mama, who looked worse for wear. She obviously knew Elvis got drafted and had taken to drinking more to cope. The day Elvis left for basic training, you’d promised him that you’d look after Graceland and his parents, and that you’d be in the same spot waiting for him when he got back. You just didn’t expect that day to come so soon.

You had hoped Gladys would snap out of her depressed stupor in a few weeks, but she only kept drinking, and you and Vernon were at a loss as to what to do. You’d tried to reason with her, but she was so incoherent at times it was no use. When you got the call from Vernon that Gladys had a heart attack, you felt a pit in your stomach. She had been like a mother to you for almost a decade, and now she was gone.

By the time you made your way to Graceland that day, Vernon had told you that Elvis was already on his way to Memphis, as the Army gave him permission to leave for Gladys’ funeral. It was late at night when he arrived, barely holding it together until he saw you and his dad, and he broke down in your arms until he made his way upstairs early in the morning.

You couldn’t believe it when the next day the Colonel was trying to get Elvis and Vernon outside for an impromptu press conference. Elvis had hardly moved from his spot on the floor of his mama’s closet since he got home. Somehow the Colonel managed to convince him to come downstairs, but you still objected.

"It ain’t right," you said. "None of them people out there knew her, not like we did. They’re not entitled to our grief like a spectacle. Especially not his."

Elvis sniffled. "It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll go do it. Five minutes, but that’s all."

“I’ll drag you back in here if it takes a second longer,” you said.

He gave you the faintest smile, the first one you’d seen from him. You decided in that moment you hated the Colonel with everything you had in you. You knew Gladys didn’t like him, but you figured he knew what he was doing when it came to Elvis’ career. Now, you felt nothing but disgust for the man who decided to exploit your best friend’s loss. There wasn’t even time for you to express your concerns to Elvis, because before you knew it, he was shipped off to Germany for the next year and a half.

You kept in touch, writing each other incessantly. He even flew you out to meet him in Paris when he had a short leave. It was a better reunion than the previous one, but soured a bit when he informed you of his new girlfriend. From everything he told you, she seemed nice, but way too young for him. You couldn’t lie and say you thought it was exactly appropriate for Elvis to be with Priscilla, so you just said that you were glad he found someone. Not a lie, as much as you wanted to chew him out.

Elvis returned to the States with Priscilla, who ended up endearing herself to you. Even though she technically lived in a separate house on Graceland’s property, she was still in the main house pretty often. Somehow, even with a full-time job and a new steady boyfriend, who Elvis didn’t hesitate to tell you every problem he had with, you were at Graceland a lot too. It wasn’t even at Elvis’ invitation all the time. Priscilla, young and lonely with Elvis spending more time in Hollywood, carving out his film career, would ask you to come over and hang out or go shopping with her.

Elvis sent letters and postcards from Hollywood to you and Priscilla, but you found it odd when she’d complain about not getting calls from Elvis for weeks at a time, when he called you almost every day. You felt sorry for the poor girl when she came to you in tears over the stories about Elvis and Ann-Margaret’s supposed romance on the set of ‘Viva Las Vegas’.

"Do you think it’s true?" she asked, eyes filled with tears. "Please, Y/N, you know him better than anyone."

"I know he loves you a lot," you answered, "and I know Hollywood tabloids can get ahead of themselves and make a story out of nothing."

You also knew Elvis had cheated on Dixie when they were still together and he was touring, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Priscilla that. You’d come to view her as a younger sister of sorts, and the last thing you wanted to do was make her even more upset than she was. After a while, the rumors died down as Elvis returned to Graceland after shooting the movie. There were other rumors, of course, after he returned to Hollywood, but Priscilla never brought any of them up to you after that. You weren’t sure if she simply didn’t believe them or had come to terms with the fact that the distance from Elvis made it almost inevitable.

Eventually, Priscilla went to Hollywood to live with Elvis there, and you saw less of them. You didn’t mind, it made sense considering where you all were in life. If you were being honest with yourself, it was a relief to not have to be the mediator in their relationship or go to Graceland in your limited free time. Things with yet another one of your boyfriends had fizzled out on mostly good terms, but you could tell your obligation to Elvis had put a strain on the relationship after a while.

Elvis would fly you out to Los Angeles every so often, even though you basically lived at Graceland whenever he was home. You had begun to notice Priscilla wasn’t around as often, until Elvis had called you one evening while your latest boyfriend was over. You whispered an apology to Eric as you went to answer the phone, knowing Elvis would keep calling until you picked up.

“Y/N, I–uh–I gotta tell ya somethin’,” Elvis said.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not with ‘Cilla anymore. Things weren’t workin’ out.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I thought y’all were starting to plan the wedding.”

“We were. I don’t know, I just couldn’t do it.”

“Well, if it don’t feel right, it probably ain’t. Your mama always said to trust your gut,” you told him. “How did Priscilla take it?”

“Not great,” he answered, huffing out a laugh. “Can’t say I didn’t expect it. She’s back with her folks now.”

“At least she’s not alone,” you said. Damn, you were looking forward to their wedding. Knowing Elvis, he would’ve pulled out all the stops. Not to mention how excited Priscilla had been when Elvis proposed.

“I’ve just been thinkin’ about a lotta things recently, makin’ some big changes in my life, my career,” he said, pausing a bit before adding. “Got some guys I’m workin’ with to start performin’ live again.”

“Elvis, that sounds incredible!” you exclaimed. “Just like the old days, huh?”

“We’re taping a whole special for my big comeback to music. Goin’ back to my roots and all, I can’t think of anyone else I’d want here for that.”

“I’m there, just let me know when,” you said, hoping he could hear your smile over the phone.

“Well, how soon can you fly out?”

“I mean, I’d have to tell work, but maybe by the weekend.”

“Alright, you call me as soon as you know, okay?”

“You know I will. ‘Night, Elvis,” you said.

“‘Night, Y/N. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hung up, giving Eric an apologetic smile as you made your way back over to him on the other side of your living room. “Sorry, a lot happened.”

“Sounds like you’re gonna be taking a trip to LA soon,” he said.

“Wanna come with me? I can see if Elvis would pay for your–”

He shook his head. “I’ll buy my own way. LA does sound nice, though.”

You squealed in excitement, throwing your arms around him. “It’ll be so fun! The beaches there are gorgeous.”

“I bet,” he laughed, keeping an arm around you.

“Just, don’t be surprised if you’re met with some hostility when it comes to Elvis. He’s never liked any of my boyfriends,” you said. “Some overprotective thing he never grew out of.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he assured you.

You managed to convince one of your coworkers to cover for you for the following week, and quickly made plans to leave for California to see Elvis Friday night as soon as you and Eric were finished with work. Even though Elvis had paid for you to fly first class, you sat with Eric in economy, feeling bad about sitting apart during the flight. Elvis had let you know he’d meet you at the hotel, and had a car waiting for you outside the airport to bring you there.

When you checked in, the clerk instructed the bellhop to bring yours and Eric’s bags up to the room, and let you know where to find Elvis. You took the elevator up a few floors to a conference room Elvis was apparently waiting in. His face lit up when you opened the door, but quickly fell when he noticed Eric with you.

“Who’s this?” Elvis asked, his tone hostile as he looked at you accusingly.

“My boyfriend Eric, I know I told you about him,” you said.

“Well, I only got clearance for you to come into the studio tomorrow.”

“Hey, no worries, buddy,” Eric said. “I can explore LA myself. You guys have fun catching up.”

Elvis nodded. “Alright. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

It certainly wasn’t the reunion you were expecting, and you definitely didn’t appreciate how he treated your boyfriend, but you were willing to brush it off as him being tired from working all day. You counted yourself lucky that Eric was so easy-going. He hardly mentioned Elvis’ horrible attitude toward him when you both headed up to the room. It was on one of the top floors, with a fully stocked mini-bar that Eric didn’t hesitate to get into, opening a bottle of wine for you to share while watching TV until you fell asleep.

The two of you ate breakfast together in the hotel, and then parted ways for the rest of the day. You hoped he’d at least have a good time being a tourist in Los Angeles on his own. Around ten in the morning, you were informed a car was waiting outside the hotel to bring you to NBC’s studio. Filming wasn’t for a few more hours, and you figured Elvis just wanted to hang out and catch up beforehand.

The car dropped you off in front of Elvis’ trailer, where he was sitting outside talking to his father. Elvis’ mood had done a complete 180 from the previous night, and he engulfed you in a bear hug.

“I missed you too,” you laughed.

You and Vernon spoke for a bit, before he took his cue to leave and let Elvis and you be alone. You followed Elvis into his trailer, making yourself comfortable on the couch. You knew he spared no expense on it, with TVs and air conditioning to make it as comfortable as possible, but you were partial to Graceland.

“You want anything to drink?” Elvis asked.

“I’m good,” you said. “So, I’m guessing this special has absolutely nothing to do with the Colonel?”

He grinned, sitting next to you. “Doesn’t know a thing.”

“I know you feel like he made your career or whatever, but you need someone with fresh ideas around,” you said. “I never forgave him for that stunt he pulled at your mama’s funeral. He should be ashamed of himself.”

“Well, y’know how I mentioned makin’ some big changes in my life,” he said.

You nodded, “Yeah.”

“Some of that applies to you, to us.”

“What about us?”

“I shoulda never been with Priscilla,” he said. “You’re my rock, Y/N. You’ve been with me through everything. I got time to make things right, though.”

You were blind-sided by his confession. “Elvis, we’re practically family. I don’t know–”

He scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re holdin’ out over that clown you brought with you.”

“I’ve never thought of you like that.”

“Bullshit you never. How come you didn’t ever get married, huh?”

“You hated everyone I’ve ever dated!”

“It matters that much to you, that I like who you’re dating?” he asked.

“‘Course it does, you’re my best friend. Where’s this coming from?”

“It’s coming from me wakin’ up and finally seein’ what I have in front of me.”

You shook your head. “Look, I need to think about this.”

“There’s nothin’ to think about. You walk outta here, and it’ll be the biggest mistake of your life.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, baby,” he took a deep breath, “I wasted almost twenty years of my life not bein’ with you. We coulda had a couple of kids together; they’d probably be in high school or somethin’ by now. I ain’t wastin’ anymore time. Either you’re with me or you’re not.”

You sucked in a breath, feeling your eyes start to burn. You couldn’t do this. He was bluffing, he had to be. He wouldn’t cut you out of his life now, after everything you’d been through. Still, the possibility of losing your best friend terrified you. You’d only ever thought of dating him when the two of you were still in high school, but that was so long ago.

“Shoulda joined that convent after all,” you muttered under your breath. “Why would you do this when you know I’m gonna pick you every time?”

“You’re the only person who does. You know I love you, Y/N. I always have.”

“I love you too.”

“Then what’s the problem?” he asked. “Baby, this just a long time comin’.”

He kissed you, and you tried to enjoy it, to kiss him back, but it felt wrong. You weren’t sure why he suddenly decided your relationship was anything more than platonic after so many years. His talk about kids especially rattled you, if that was what he wanted from you in the future. When he pulled away from the kiss, you looked up at your best friend, and for the first time in your life, you saw a stranger.

#elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #yandere!elvis x reader #yandere x reader #elvis #elvis 2022 #austin!elvis

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