#Man I shed like a few tears by the end of the reveal news thing

[dreadful-luck]

GGS TEAM PAST!!!

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

I am the broken, I am the wound

@asraindarkness said whump, and I was, yeah! The story, however, said uh-uh. There you go, 3,925 words BuckTommy, including PTSD and a love confession. Below the cut and on AO3.

(1: Buck’s POV)

It was the small things.

Trifles, inconspicuous at first, accumulating until they no longer appeared to be random. And still it took Buck weeks, months even to connect the dots. It might have been politeness, or rather some kind of consideration, why Tommy wasn’t staying the nights. Some old fashioned way to keep the pace low, to let Buck acclimate to the fact that he was with a man now. Which was, of course, cute, but since Buck basically jumped on said man after a couple of weeks, not exactly necessary.

He never stayed over night, but even if that gave Buck a headache sometimes, it might just have been an endearing quirk. But there were other signs, only he didn't understand them until later. That wary look on Tommy's face at some loud noises. The fact that he never talked about his time in the army. How he always got up to get a drink or go for a pee when a movie turned all too violent. Later, of course, Buck wondered how he had not noticed all this. It was just that Tommy didn't quite realize it himself.

A few weeks after their first kiss and a few much more fruitful dates, the wedding to which Buck had invited Tommy finally happened – albeit in a completely different way than planned. After it, they went to the loft, took a shower together, made out in Buck's bed, talked and laughed; and then, Tommy fell asleep. 

It was mesmerizing. Of course, he had been on a shift when Buck texted him about the unplanned hospital wedding, and he’d arrived as soon as he could, covered in soot from a fire that would be on the evening news. He was exhausted, basically only kept up by Buck's text that there would be cake. So it was no wonder that his eyes eventually closed, and Buck was enraptured by the sight. He lay there for a long time, looking at Tommy until darkness fell over the city, until he decided to end the day and lie down next to him. Tommy didn't wake up when he carefully wrapped an arm around him, and that’s how he fell asleep, blissfully thinking of the morning when he would wake up to this sight. 

He woke up to a scream.

Buck, a first responder with instincts hard to suppress, immediately sat upright in bed. He squinted into the darkness, confused and tired, unable to find his bearings for a moment. Had he been dreaming, or had he actually heard something? Buck’s gaze fell to the other side of his bed, and he remembered; yet the warm, fuzzy feeling of last night wouldn’t return. 

Tommy sat there, the comforter tangled between his legs, his naked torso wet with sweat. The dim surroundings revealed little, but he was bent forward, head in his hands, breathing heavily. 

“T... Tommy?”

He didn't even know why the sight unsettled him so much. Tommy was one of those strong guys with a soft core, one to shed a tear during a movie’s love scene, claiming there’s a speck of dust in his eye. With Buck, he was soft and gentle all the time, just … not like this. He carefully reached out a hand, touching a very tense shoulder. The touch seemed to electrify Tommy, he looked up, startled. Buck couldn't quite make out his eyes, but if he'd had to guess... he looked haunted.

“What happened? Nightmare?”

Buck gave his voice a reassuring edge, because underneath the distractedness, the obvious sadness of Tommy's whole frame, something else was lurking. Buck had seen this kind of tenseness, this hardened jawline, the hurried look before. It was a mood that could quickly turn aggressive. That seemed hard to imagine with Tommy, but it had been a long road to be at ease with himself, and his physical assets were impressive. And whatever was wrong with him, calming him down seemed the best option. 

“Yeah,” Tommy drawled. “Must have been a dream. Sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep, I need to leave.”

“Tommy, you really don't need to…” Buck said, but Tommy rose, gathering his belongings, one foot in his jeans already. A wistful smile played around his lips as he kissed Buck goodbye.

Buck was jittery for a few days afterwards, without knowing exactly why. Tommy was back to his old charming self a day later, he even apologized by saying that he was not used to fall asleep next to somebody. It was a strange statement, and Buck had the oddest feeling that something was wrong, something deep down in Tommy, and for some reason, that frightened him. It was inevitable: his thoughts revolved around possible mistakes, turning every conversation around in his head. He even wondered whether Tommy could have lost interest so quickly. However, there was nothing to suggest that he had. Maybe it was all in Buck's head, but he was still convinced it was in Tommy's head, too, and he needed to find a quiet moment to talk to him. 

A peaceful dinner after a non-stressful, quiet day, on which they fortunately both finished work at the same time, seemed the best opportunity. Buck had ordered cake – he wasn't so presumptuous as to think he could bake just because he liked to cook. He didn't eat any of it, but watched Tommy with pleasure as he shoveled in the second piece. The only thing distracting him was that he thought about how to bring on the topic. How to start a conversation about something you weren’t sure about? Maybe Buck was just overthinking it, maybe Tommy was fine, maybe there was nothing. His guts, however, told him otherwise. He just needed to find a way to make this not about himself. That should be easy, because he really, really cared for this man. 

Tommy finished the cake, and Buck opened a bottle of wine.

“Wine? Did you run out of beer?” Tommy teased him. 

Buck's former self would have run to the fridge, but by now, he knew better. He knew Tommy better, his somewhat odd jokes, his sarcasm. Maybe that was the key, he thought while handing Tommy a glass. Perhaps he should have realized sooner that all this could be a coping mechanism – after all, that was an experience he shared. 

“Hey, uh, I... I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, sitting down at he table again, shoving the empty plates aside and clutching his glass. 

“Fine. I figured something was bothering you, Evan.”

Tommy's nose folded into an adorable scrunch as he cracked a broad smile. Strangely enough, Buck now felt guilty. As if he was about to say something that would wipe this smile away, and he didn’t want that. 

 “It's about…” he began, but his voice trailed off as the ceiling light above them suddenly flickered.

“Do you often have problems with power cuts?” Tommy asked, frowning. 

“Nah, never,” Buck returned.

He looked up as if he could make the lamp work with his thoughts, and sure enough, the flickering stopped. 

“Maybe it's a solar storm,” Tommy said and took a sip. “I've read about them, they’re...”

The light went out altogether, and he fell silent. Now the loft was pitch black, covered by a blanket made out of darkness.

“That's odd,” Buck remarked. “Well, let me check the fuses, wait, I’ll use my phone as a torch.”

It shouldn’t be that dark, he thought, and it took him a second to realize it was missing the usual glimpse of this suburbia’s light pollution. This wasn’t just about his apartment. Fumbling with his back pocket, he got up. That was the second when a gigantic blast was heard from outside, a violent noise that rattled the windows. Buck dropped his phone and cursed, at the same time a second noise sounded directly in front of him, and he sensed movement. 

“Tommy?”

Buck's eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the darkness yet, but he realized that the second bang had been a chair falling to the floor. What the hell was going on here? Diving under the table, he groped the floor for his phone. 

The flashlight on his cell phone cast strange shadows on the walls. The chair Tommy had been sitting on had indeed been knocked over, but where was he? Why hadn't he answered? The silence after the bang was eerie. Maybe a substation had exploded, ensuring the district lay in darkness now. It had startled him, admittedly, but now his instincts kicked in, they calmed his heartbeat and kept him thinking clearly. Assess the situation. Help those in need.

“Tommy, you okay? Wait, I'm coming for you.”

Despite the pale light from his phone, Buck banged his knee on the table, cursing for the second time. There was no response, and he was starting to get really worried. He flicked the light across the kitchen, into the living room, but there was no one there. Had Tommy gone up the stairs? But why would he? 

He kept scanning around, searching every nook and cranny, his own footsteps the only sound. All of this was eery, not only because of the sudden darkness. This was still his apartment, he knew every corner by heart, light or not. And still, it felt like something was missing, some of the security his home offered, but it wasn’t him who was missing it. 

Buck found Tommy in the bathroom, a dark shade crouching next to the shower, clasping his knees. He dropped down, put the phone aside and let its light illuminate parts of the ceiling. It was enough to see Tommy’s face, absolutely frightened, eyes wide open, staring into the void. He was panting way too fast, close to hyperventilating. Buck knew these signs.

“Tommy. Hey. Look at me, okay? I’m here,” he whispered, his voice hoarse for some reason.  “What... what's going on?”

“I don't know,” Tommy said, almost sobbing, “I don't know, I just don't know.”

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(2: Tommy’s POV)

“Okay,” Buck returned softly, “all right. Breathe. Slowly.”

Tommy knew that voice, he’d used it himself before, maybe the exact words, and he knew Evan was right. It was just so hard to breathe. With every inhale, he seemed to take in the darkness even more, and with every exhale, he felt like screaming. He had never been afraid of the dark, but for some reason, now he was terrified. The flashlight did little to reassure him; the shadows on the tiled walls seemed to taunt Tommy. 

He didn't look at Evan, he could imagine him thinking feverishly, probably wondering why Tommy had chosen to hide in the bathroom. But Evan wasn't stupid, he would draw the right conclusions. It was a closed space, no windows, somehow a safe space. Some people believed it was one of the safest places in case of an earthquake, and Tommy knew that Evan lived in L.A. long enough to have witnessed at least one. Whatever had shook Evan’s windows, it most certainly hadn’t been an earthquake. But whatever it had been…

“… it triggered something,” Evan said, as if he was able to read his mind. “The… the noise, maybe even the darkness?” 

It was a question that didn’t really call for an answer, not now. Evan reached out and grasped his slightly shaking hands. They were cold against Evan’s warm skin, but he didn’t withdraw. To his own surprise, he started talking. 

“Been having nightmares for a while,” he said, only to fall silent again immediately after these words.

Evan frowned, “T…that’s why you never wanted to spend the night here? Tommy... you could have just told me?”

Tommy shrugged, not looking at him.

“It felt strange. Annoying. Like a me-problem, you know?”

He still didn’t dare to look at the man, but Tommy could imagine how that must feel to him. Evan, who had so much, too much experience in trying to not be a burden to anyone. He’d come a long way, Tommy knew that. It hadn’t felt right at the time when he asked his former coworkers about his crush, and without them even knowing why he asked, in the first place. He could imagine what he felt and thought right now, and he was right: Evan briefly let go of his hands to lift Tommy’s chin, searching his gaze. 

“You’re not a problem, Tommy,” he assured him. “We’re in this together now, remember? If anything, the world’s in double trouble.”

That man… Evan didn’t know half the things he invoked in Tommy. He could feel his shoulders lose some of their tenseness, and his jaw relaxed enough he finally sensed  the coppery taste of biting the insides of his cheeks.

“Tell me about the dreams,” Buck said. 

“That's the thing,” Tommy returned, shaking his head, ”I don't remember much. But it's... kind of gruesome, creepy. Everything's blurry, but it feels dangerous. Silly.”

“It's not. It’s how dreams work, right? Tell me why the bang outside startled you this much.”

The flashlight on Buck's cell phone went out without warning, and he hastily turned it back on. Tommy was grateful for the moment of darkness. If he would only be able to sort his thoughts. But there was nothing he could hold on to, nothing to put a finger on. The dreams, well… they had been gloomy and strange, nothing else.  

“I don’t think it’s the darkness,” Evan cautiously continued, “or if it is, it’s along with the bang we heard. You know, it… it took me a while to stop flinching at every flash of lightning. M…maybe it’s something you experienced in the army?”

Finally, Tommy turned his head to look at him. Of course he would eventually get there. Tommy didn’t like to see these beautiful blue eyes filled with so much concern, but this time, he was helpless.

“But what? I hardly remember my time in the army.” 

“Come on,” Buck went, searching his gaze, “I’m sure that’s not true. I mean, certainly, you must have experienced things you’d rather forget…”

“No,” Tommy cut him off, “it’s not that that I want to forget them. I actually can’t remember.”

Buck furrowed his brow, “That's textbook PTSD,” he said. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not. I think,” Tommy muttered, ruffling his hair. 

“You hid this from me, you know.”

Tommy heard the insecurity, even if Evan tried hard to mask it. He was trying so hard to sound confident, not at all hurt, because this wasn’t about him. That was exactly what made it so hard. Tommy didn’t know why he himself hurt, but he did, and he didn’t want to drag anyone down that road. Especially not Evan. 

“I didn’t do this on purpose, Evan,” he said, surprised at how tired he sounded. Exhausted, even.

“I know,” Evan soothed him. “We don’t need to find a solution right now. You need some sleep.”

“No,” Tommy said with a strange kind of urgency creeping up his spine. “I can’t sleep. It keeps coming back. I need to know why.”

“Okay. Fine. Let’s think about it, then we’ll lay down together, and first thing in the morning is calling the shrink. Deal?”

“You don’t have to do this, Evan. I can just…”

“Look, I don’t want you to go home, Tommy,” he was cut off intently. “We’ll get through this together.”

Suddenly, Tommy sighed, as if he had held his breath for a very long time, and though it sounded a bit like a sob, he felt way more content now. I needed to hear this, he thought surprised.

“When did this start?” asked Buck. 

Tommy wrinkled his brow. Thoughtfully, he stared upwards into the flashlight’s pale glow, which chose this moment to go out again. Buck suppressed another curse and switched his phone back on.

“Ten weeks,” he replied, “maybe twelve.”

“Well, what happened back then? I know this much about PTSD to believe that whatever happened to the power supply tonight was not the trigger. It must have started somewhere. Something at work? You didn’t crash with the helicopter, right?”

“I think you’d have heard about a helicopter crash around the time we rescued Bobby and Athena,” Tommy answered dryly. 

“Right,” Buck sheepishly returned. They exchanged a weary smile. “So that’s when the nightmares started? Do you think it’s that? It was a risk. Dangerous. We could have died. Or lost our jobs.”

“Interesting priorities that you have there,” Tommy said, sounding more like his old self now. “Nobody died and we even got medals for it. Don’t think that’s it. Moreover, I think it started a bit later. Like… after…”

His voice trailed off, and he could see on Evan’s face that his eyes must have taken on a haunted look again. But he did feel haunted. It wasn't that he really remembered, rather as if lots of little pieces suddenly fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle. Or, he thought gloomily, like a game of dominoes triggering a chain reaction.

“After what?” Evan softly asked.

There was no way he would evade this now. Not after all this, not after Evan seeing him in such a rattled state, hiding in his bathroom. “After the basketball game.”

“You mean the one with Eddie?”

“I was injured,” Tommy said, definitely not an answer to Buck’s question, “in the military, you know? That’s what the files said.”

“T…the files? So that’s what you don’t remember?” 

“I do remember that I was hurt, something hit my head. Two weeks in hospital, a honorable discharge right after, all of that is still there. It’s just … I don’t know what happened before that. What hit my head? Who was with me? What happened? It’s a blur. Nobody told me anything, you know? They said it’s amnesia, it would all come back, and they were told not to upset me. That was a lie. The files were mostly confidential. I wasn’t allowed to read what hit me or why.” 

Tommy didn’t dare to look at Evan after he got rid of all that. He stared straight ahead, or maybe into the void. 

“That's tough,” Evan said softly.

“That’s the army,” Tommy shrugged. “It’s just… the nightmares are so vivid, yet I can’t see anything. It’s more like feelings, sensations, thoughts. Everything is dark, and there are strange sounds. It feels dangerous, but also like I’m leaving somebody behind. I’m afraid, Evan. I’m afraid that I did something bad, something horrible back then, and I don’t even remember it.”

“You could never,” Evan blurted out, reaching for Tommy’s cold hands again. 

A wistful smile crossed Tommy’s lips. “But what if I have?”

“We’ll deal with it as soon as we know more,” Evan decided. “Why do you think it was triggered by the basketball game?”

The torchlight went out again as another expression flickered across Tommy's face,  but he was sure Evan didn’t catch it. He reached for his phone, but Tommy grabbed his hand and held it tight. Several heartbeats long, they sat in the darkness, silent; he didn’t want this to end, didn't want reality to return. But it was inevitable. Finally, he sighed. 

“What if it was you, Evan?”

“Me? I...”

“Let me finish. This time, I need you to listen.”

There was concern in Evan’s eyes, maybe even fear, and he hated to be the cause of it. But it was better to rip off the band-aid fast.

“It started there,” Tommy said. “But it got worse. The closer the two of us got, the more nightmares I had. I liked you from the beginning, Evan, and the game was when I realized it. As soon as you arrived, I only wanted to impress you. Wanted it then and every day after that. That’s why it’s so hard.”

“I don’t get it,” Evan returned, utterly confused.

“I love you, Evan,” he said into the darkness. 

There. He said it. Either stupid jokes or hard facts at the wrong time, that was what he was, right? Tommy heaved another sigh as he added, “I’m not saying I knew this from the beginning. What I knew, though, was that I liked you so much that it almost hurt. Hadn’t experienced that, well, in quite a while.”

“But,” Evan dared to say, “t…that’s a good thing, right?”

His voice sounded so small, so full of hope. Tommy could barely make out his frame in the darkness, but he surely looked very soft, very lovely right now. Tommy had not forgotten what Evan had told him, one night: How his ex-girlfriend had called him needy, and how he had found that to be rude, but also true. Tommy had tried to tell him, to show him that it wasn’t true. That he was worth it, and that it was adorable how he wore his heart on his sleeve. 

“I don’t know. And that’s why I’m afraid. Because… what if I really did something bad back then? What if I hurt people, killed innocent ones, what if I’m a traitor, a cheater, whatever, and it’s buried deep inside me and…”

“… and you’re afraid the dreams might show you what you did, at some point. And I wouldn’t like it.”

“Yes,” Tommy breathed. 

He had avoided this moment for as long as possible. No one liked facing their own demons, but admitting it was worse. He didn't even know what his demons looked like. All that was long in the past, it was blurred and distant – but not distant enough, obviously. Whatever he had done then, whatever had happened, maybe he would never know, and maybe it would break him sooner or later if he didn't share it. But that was exactly what Evan had offered: to share the burden. 

His tongue felt numb, everything suddenly hurt, as if that bang out there had shaken his body. It had only shaken his soul, and yet it hurt. But that was somehow a good pain, one that drove him on. He reached for Evan's hands, about to say something; there was a crackle of electricity and all the lights came back on. They stared into the light, squinting for a moment, then Tommy turned to Evan, determination in his gaze.

 “Let's go to sleep,” he said. “We can deal with this tomorrow.”

Evan looked at him insistently, as if he could see behind his forehead to read his mind, and he asked, “You gonna be able to sleep?”

“I'm more afraid of losing you than I am of the nightmares, Evan.”

The words just tumbled out of his mouth, and Evan's eyes widened.

"Why would you lose me? Tommy. Tommy!" he stammered, as if he couldn't believe this was actually true. Evan grabbed his upper arms as if to shake him, and maybe Tommy deserved it, because now he suddenly said, “You idiot!”

“I... what?” Tommy asked, dumbfounded.

“That was the strangest declaration of love ever. I wish I could have answered I know.” 

Star Wars jokes, Tommy thought. Maybe all was not lost. He still felt vulnerable, a bit like he was a huge open wound. But one that would heal. 

“Yeah, you kinda didn’t answer at all, Evan,” he said.

Now that the light was back, he could finally see him again, and it was his favorite thing to see: that radiant smile, as if the sun was rising. 

“I thought I wouldn't have to,” Evan replied. “But you know what? I want to. I love you too.”

[buckymetalarm]

Summary : Idk guys I couldn't think of a better title. Anyways, in this one  y/n finds out bucky was playing with her to impress his friends. She goes to confront him. It doesn't end well. 3.7k 

Warnings: foul language, flashbacks in italics, italics and bold is y/n's thoughts,  angst, lot of angst, body shaming, slut shaming, locker room thing kinda , asshole Bucky, none of them are avengers in this world, just normal assholes, also I feel like it might be a trigger warning for people who had emotionally abusive boyfriends

A/n: IDK I get stupid ideas and I want to write one-shots or short stories about them because I can't commit to long-term things. Anyways this is angsty and low-key heartbreaking?  I am obsessed with Bucky right now so all the ideas I come up with would be Bucky related. 

"So what? This was all just a joke to you?" y/n questioned him. She was on the verge of crying. Her heart was shattered and her trust broken. But she refused to shed a single tear in front of Bucky. She was foolish enough to fall for the most cliché shit ever- The new girl falling for the bad boy only to find out it was all over a bet. In her defense, the plot was a bit different but she had been played all the same.

So she refused to cry in front of him in a feeble attempt to gather the last shred of her dignity. She refused to give him that satisfaction. Instead, she balled her hands in a fist and hardened her features. 

"Oh wait. It wasn't just a joke. It was another mission. Another game. Yet another girl to play." she stated. 

She was yet another notch in his belt. Just another trophy he can flash around and boast about to his trashy friends. 

And that stung. 

"Cat got your tongue, Barnes?" she sneered. She continued to glare at the man she thought she knew as she awaited his response. She folded her arms on her chest anticipating a fight. For him to say something, anything. Maybe yell at her for checking his phone behind his back. Or deny his involvement altogether. Blame it on someone else. She wished for him to feed her lies. Oh, how she wished all of this to be a lie. 

She knew how pathetic it sounded that she wanted to be comforted by lies instead of facing the truth. She already knew that and she hated herself for it. But the truth was too heavy for her. She couldn't bear it. Cause if she was to accept that it was all a lie from the moment he befriended her to what happened just a few days ago, it would mean that everything that happened between them was fake. All the late-night confessions, the vulnerability they shared, the naked truths, all of it was just a lie. A facade. Just an act. One fucking elaborate act designed to break her heart and leave her in shambles. 

And she couldn't face it yet. The pain was too much for her.  

Bucky stood there speechless as he tried to decipher her body language. She was always such a mystery to him. He hated how he could never figure her out. But her eyes, he had learned, betrayed her. 

He could see the whirlwind of emotions in her eyes. Read them so clearly. He couldn't help but remember that one night they had spent under the stars and he had told her that her eyes were enchanting. 

"You know you have the most beautiful eyes in the whole world?" he whispered. Y/n blushed in response.

He was looking at her with such intensity that it made goosebumps rise in her arms. They were full of emotions she couldn't decipher but they were so strong that it made her shiver.

His smoldering eyes made her feel seen. Like actually seen. Like he was staring at her naked soul.

"You are such a mystery, y/l/n. But your eyes. They are the window to your soul. They betray you. " he revealed.

"Do they now?"

"Mhmm" he nodded. "I can tell you exactly what you are feeling right now just by reading your eyes."

"I don't believe you."

"Alright then. Challenge accepted," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. She knew that look. She had seen that look play out. That look meant trouble.

"Oh no no no. There is no challenge here. I am not challenging you for anything." y/n shook her head. She didn't want any trouble.

"Are you scared, Mon chérie?" he playfully wiggled his eyebrows at her. She couldn't help but let out a laugh at his poor accent.

"First of all, that was such a bad imitation of that French dude and secondly, no I am not." She very much was.

"Then let's play."

He smirked at her devilishly and she instantly knew she was baited.

In a second, he turned his body to face her and trapped her between his big arm. His necklace dangled on her chest as he stared down at her with his piercing eyes. The mood quickly changed. It wasn't light and breezy anymore. This was intense. Electrical even.

Y/ns mind whirled. She felt her heart quicken. She could feel her face heat under his scrutiny but she didn't dare break the eye contact.

Bucky's eyes momentarily shifted to her lips. It was so swift and brief that y/n thought that she had imagined it. But then, he dipped his head low and y/ns eyes fluttered close in anticipation.

"You want to jump my bones right now," Bucky whispered. His lips hovered directly above the shell of her ear. Even if she couldn't see him, she could feel that stupid cocky smirk on his face.

And just like that, he detached himself from her leaving her all bothered and mad.

He was plagued with guilt and regret as he replayed the memory in his mind. He hung his head down in shame, unable to look at her anymore.

He had seen the wheels in her head turning. She was questioning every memory, every moment they shared together. His refusal to speak only made things worse.

But what could he say, really? He had done exactly what she accused her for. And he regretted it. She might think it was all a lie. But it wasn't. Not to him. Divulging all the intimate details of their sex life as proof to his friends had been the worst mistake of his life. If he could take it all back, he would. 

But that didn't change anything. 

So what could he say? 

His silence angered Y/n. 

So now he can't even meet my eyes, she thought. He didn't seem to be burdened by guilt when he was playing with me and having sex with me. That he enjoyed very much. And all the boasting he did in that disgusting group chat? He had no problem sexualizing me either. But now he decided to grow a heart. 

He always had something to say. Always. Even when he knew he was in the wrong, he would still continue to argue. He was never the one to back down. 

He was never the one to let go of a grudge so easily either. The ugly voice in her head sneered.

The memories of that day flashed in front of her eyes.

"I am really sorry, Bucky" y/n apologized yet again. 

She was hovering over the table right where Bucky sat. She had arrived late at lunch and all the seats at the popular table were filled by then. She normally didn't even sit with Bucky and his friends as per their agreement but today she knew how angry he was at her and she wanted to clear the air with him.

"Will you just talk to me?" she asked, a bit irritated by his childish behavior.

He still refused to acknowledge her presence. Instead, he turned his head toward his best friend and struck up a conversation with him.

"You know these days you can't trust anyone. The moment you trust them and let your guard down, they attack you," he told Sam. It was obvious that it was an underhand jab at y/n.

Sam didn't say anything in response. He just glanced a side look at y/n.

"Bucky, I said I am sorry. Can we please just talk about it?" y/n pleaded. She knew how pathetic she looked to the group. She was aware of how embarrassing this was. But Bucky meant a lot to her and she didn't want to lose him because of a mere misunderstanding. 

She remembered how she had spent the entire lunch trying to talk to him and he had simply ignored her. A senior had come to talk to him and he had noticed y/n standing near Bucky and profusely apologizing to him while he blatantly ignored her. Even the senior felt bad for her and asked him to talk to her but he had just brushed it off. She remembered how humiliated she had felt. How tiny and pathetic Bucky had made her feel.

As she looked at Bucky with his head hung low, it filled her with rage. She couldn't believe she had let that asshole treat her so poorly. It should have been clear to her at that time only that he was a piece of trash. That he didn't deserve her.

But that memory was only the beginning. It was as if she could finally see clearly. The fog had lifted. The jig was up. Bucky wasn't so perfect anymore.

All the repressed memories resurfaced. All those times he had bullied her, manipulated her, shamed her. It all came back to her. The memories played inside her head like a movie reel. Each memory was like a powerful blow to her face.

The one time he refused to share his gloves with her even though he wasn't using them and she was freezing. That day when he made a joke about her tits in front of the group making everybody stare at her chest and see the comparison. Or that day during the exams week when he refused to give her, her notes back because he felt threatened by her knowledge. And of course, that day when he had asked her to keep their relationship a secret because he was embarrassed by her.  

And all the times he had publically teased her for having a crush on his friend out of jealousy. And all those times he had belittled her and deliberately made her feel insecure by passing unsolicited comments on her body.

Some of them were small crimes. Some were big. She couldn't believe she had let all of them slide. She was so blinded by her insecurity and the fear that she will never find love that she chose the worst man ever. That she had let him treat her this shitty.

Her rage quickly turned into self-pity. Tears welled up in her eyes again. She didn't want to cry in front of him. She had promised herself she would not cry in front of him. But these tears weren't for him. They were for her. For everything she had endured since she met him. Overall the pain and hurt she didn't deserve. For all the years to come that she would spend in therapy trying to desperately heal from this incident. Over how scarred and traumatized she already left and how she knew it would affect her relationship with men in general forever. All because she chose the wrong man. 

She let out a sob. And then another. And then another. She let herself fall down on the floor as she finally cried. 

It was one thing to mistreat her and play her but it was a whole another level of disgusting that he had reached by boasting about their sexpacades to his trashy friends.

It made her feel like she wasn't a human with her own set of feelings and emotions. That she was just an object for men's pleasure. A toy he can play with in secret and disregard in public. A used, broken toy.

He had made sure to make her feel alienated. To be ashamed of her own body. It didn't even feel like hers anymore. It felt like theirs. She felt like all the names they had called her. 

She couldn't believe that it had ended this way. That her life had come to this. She couldn't help but blame herself. 

How can she be so naive? How had she managed to ignore all the signs? Why did she not speak up when he would degrade her in front of their, no, his friends? Why did she let him treat her the way he did? How could she? 

Bucky's head shot up when he heard her cry. For a split second, he thought he misheard. Oh god, did he wish he misheard. The sight in front of him absolutely broke his heart. 

The woman he knew he loved sat hunched on the floor crying her heart out. The sheer agony reflecting from her face made him feel like someone had pushed their hand inside his chest, grabbed his heart, and were squeezing it hard.  He couldn't breathe. It was a gut-wrenching feeling. Absolute torture. 

He had the strong urge to run up to her and wrap his arms around her. To engulf her in a tight embrace. He wanted to hug her so tightly. intently. with earnest. with passion. with delicacy. He wanted to hear her heart beat against his. Her head on his shoulder. so closely knitted together that they appeared one. he wished to protect her. to heal her broken pieces.

But he hesitated. Her words from the past ringed in his ears leaving him in further turmoil.

"Most embarrassing story from school. Go." Bucky said. 

Bucky and y/n were huddled together in her bed. Her parents were out of town giving her the opportunity to call him over. 

She had invited him to her room for just sex because that was the deal. They were just friends with benefits. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He had been blown away by her room. He felt like he had entered one of those Pinterest aesthetic rooms.

He had ignored the red neon lights she turned on when they both came in to set the mood. Instead  he had went to ogle at the art on her wall.

"You have made all of these?" He looked at them in awe.

She nodded in response.

"Wow, y/n. That's so cool. I can'tbelieve you are so talented. Is that a sketch of Iron Man? "

"Yes." She let out. She felt a bit uncomfortable when Buckycontinued to examine the sketches and paintings.

Her room was a reflection of her. She kept it private. Especially her art. She normally took some personal pieces down whenever she expectedcompany but she didn't think Bucky wouldpay any mind to her room.

"I didn't know you liked Marvel." He turned around.

Y/n shrugged. " You never asked. "

He plopped down on her bed and asked her some more about Marvel. He had assumed that she didn't really like Marvel and that she just pretended she did to impress guys. y/n had proven him wrongby answering all of his questions correctly.

y/n had asked him somequestionsofher own which had soon turned into a competition about who knew more aboutMarvelwhichwas won by y/n when she corrected him overthefactthat the snap hadn'tactually killed the people. They had been stuck in thesoulstone in the comic version.

She had thoughtit would anger Bucky becausehe was a sour loser but he had made a comment about how themakers fucked up the movies. It had turned into a heated discussion about their mutual hate of the Russo Brothers.

" You are a damn mystery, y/n." He had commented as he pulled her towards him with the loops ofherjeans.

" What else are you hiding from me, huh?"

And thus instead of getting some they had decided to lay in the bed together and just simply talk. It turned into one of those nights. The one where the two people just click. They talk abouteverything and everyone. From topics ranging from favorite colors to dysfunctional families.

And Bucky had justasked y/n to reveal the most embarrassing moment from school.

She was tempted tolie for a second. But she decided against it when she saw him looking at her intently from her lap.

" You have to promise me youwon't tell this to anyone and that we wouldnever talk about this again. Only then Iwould tell you the story. "

" This seems interesting." He got up from her lap and gave her his famous mischievous look. She instantly missed his warmth.

" I don'tknow. It depends on the story. Let's do one thing. You tell me the story first. Then I will decideifit's juicy enough to repeat it to our friends. " he acted coy.

"Nope. Not going to happen. Thisstory is going withyou to your grave or it isn'tgoing to yourears. Got it?" She got up from the bed as she spoke.

" Wait. Don't go." He said. He lurched forward and grabbed her hand before she could go.

"I promise Iwon't tell it to anyone. Even if the story is that you peed on yourself in front of the whole class." He laughed out at the thought.

Y/n turned around and hit him on his head. " Iwasn'tgoingaway. I was going to the washroom. "

"And the story is not that I peed in front of everybody," she added.

" Then what is the story. I want to know." He whined.

Y/n's heart swelled at the sight.  He looked so cute andmesmerizing. She wanted to capturethis moment. Both of them were at ease in eachother's presence. Comfortable.

Only ifthey could stay like thatforever.

" I know I am goingtoregrettellingyou this buthere it goes. " she clapped her hands together as she continued, " Once upon a time-"

"Oh cmon" he groaned while she let out a giggle.

" Okay, fine. It was in eigth grade. I had this huge crush on Steve and all of my friends knew. Once I was talking about him with my friend and this bully, you know him from the football team, Rumlow, overheard me and announced to the whole goddamn school that I had a crush on him. It was embarrassing and everybody was talking about it so much that I ended up running to the washroom and crying. " y/n let out in one, single breath.

"You had a crush on Steve?" Bucky questioned. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. He knew that y/n had liked Peter before they became a thing. But it had ceased to matter when he got the girl over Peter. But Steve? How could he compete with the perfect Steve? 

" That's what you take from the story," she asked, incredulous. Stupid boys!

" Well, Rumlow is an asshole. Everybody on the team dislikes him." Bucky offered.

" I know right! Two years later he had the audacity to ask me out. Like he hadn't made me cry in school. In school, Bucky!"

Bucky didn't follow. What was the big deal about crying in school? Wanda and Natasha cry at least once a day.

"What's so wrong about that?" He pondered.

Y/n gave him a look as if he had just asked her who Thanos was.

He immediately backtracked. " I mean of course Rumlow is an asshole and the asking you on date part is wrong. I was asking what is wrong with crying in school." He clarified.

" That I am crying! It was humiliating enough. I didn't want to be looked at as weak or delicate." y/n explained.

"You appear vulnerable when you cry. I don't like to appear vulnerable. I don't want to give someone that kind of power over me." she added. 

Now y/n was crying in front of him. 

He remembered that day when he had been a complete jerk to her when she had come to apologize to him. Despite all the humiliation, she didn't shed a single tear. She didn't cry even when the worst of things happened.

But she was crying now. 

Because of him.

He had done the impossible. He had made y/n y/l/n cry. He didn't feel proud or macho as he stood there and watched her cry. He felt ashamed. He felt like a monster. Seeing her cry made him realize the weight his actions hold. He realized what he had done. 

He wanted to tear open his chest and remove his heart from his body just so he could stop feeling. He didn't want to feel this way. He had destroyed the one thing he loved. He knew there was no going back from this. He couldn't salvage this. he had gone too far this time and in the process lost one thing that he actually cared about. 

He wondered if it was this hard for him, how difficult was it for her?

Y/n had so much to say to him.  She had asked him to come here for the sole purpose of hurting him back. She had wanted to tell him how much he had hurt her. She wanted to explain it to him. To make him see the wrongs. To make him understand what he had caused. For him to regret his actions. To feel guilty. And mourn her. 

She wanted to yell at him. Punch him. Ask him why. Why did he do all of this? Why her? She had millions of questions. She had so much to say and ask. To make sense of the situation. 

But when she looked up at him with her tear-stained cheeks and red eyes and saw his eyes mirroring her own, the anguish and suffering clear in his eyes, she realized he knew. 

It had finally dawned on him that what he had done was cruel and pure evil. And he had to live with that knowledge for the rest of his life. 

Bucky hadn't said a word since she told him that she knew. But a lot was spoken in that last eye contact. Y/n had got what she had come for - remorse. 

So, she wiped away her tears,  stood up, and gathered herself. 

"You can write this down as yet another victory, Barnes. You made Y/n Yl/n cry." she gave the last blow.

Those were her last words as she walked away silently cursing him for a sad, miserable, and remorseful life and hoping to never see him again.

[goatsenpaiultimate]

Nervous for what? Bakugou x reader

Tags: Fluff, Anxiety and nerves!

Bakugou had never been more nervous on Valentine's day in all the 8 years you had been together. From 1st years at U.A. to 23 year old pro heroes, he was always so confident when giving you a gift or a surprise that you always end up loving and cherishing, just as he does with all the things you had gotten him, though none could compare to the love that you give him.

He had decided today was the day he would finally propose to you, to be able to call you his for life. If he was being honest with himself, he had actually wanted to marry you right after you both had graduated, and for once in his life, he couldn't find the courage to do so. What if you say no and start to drift away from him? Oh, he would never recover from scaring you away.

Even now, after it having been almost a decade together, he's still unsure what you would say. Sitting here on your shared couch, in your shared apartment with anxiety bubbling in his gut and fear swimming in his brain. All these streamers up various pinks and reds strung up, balloons kissing the ceiling. Rose petals over the floor that were gonna be a pain in the ass to clean up afterwards. But he doesn't mind it, because it's all for you.

He's snapped from his thoughts when he hears the jingling of your keys as you unlock the front door. He puts away the ring box he was holding and shoved it deep into his pocket and stood up. He took a deep breath just as you opened the door. You gasped as you slowly walked in and looked around.

"Wow....Katsu, you didn't have to go all out like this!" You said, slowly taking off your shoes to walk further inside, rose petals softly crunching beneath your socked feet.

"Tch, of course I did, idiot. You're too special for me to do something mediocre!" He said, trying to mask the way his voice wobbled with nerves.

You only giggled as you walked up to him and stood on your tip toes to kiss him, though he met you half way, just like he always did. He held you by your waist and pressed you tightly against him, taking in your alluring scent. You held him back just as tightly, sighing in content.

"I love you Katsuki. So, so much." You say, with a bit of a whisper.

He practically melted in your arms hearing you say that. It's almost like you knew his nerves were shot right now and your words made those damned nerves heal and recover. It filled him with a new determination and courage.

"I love you too. So fucking much that I need you to be by my side, forever, Need to share my last name with you, to share everything with you. Which is why...." He says, starting to pull away as he kneels down. Your eyes widened as you covered your mouth, tears threatening to overflow.

He pulls the ring box from his pocket and with a slightly shaky hand, opens it to reveal a beautiful ring embedded with diamonds and rubies the same color as your explosive boyfriend's eyes.

"Y/n L/N....will you make me the happiest man in the whole fucking world, and be mine forever? Marry me?" He asked, looking up at you with hope and that same fear from before swirling in his eyes.

You lunge forward and almost knock him backwards with your spontaneous embrace

"Yes! Of course I will! A billion, kajillion times yes!" You say, letting joyous tears fall. He held you tightly with his free arm, shedding a few happy tears himself. In the back of his mind, he felt a little silly for even doubting you wouldn't want to marry him.

"But there is something you should know Katsuki...."You say, pulling back

Bakugou immediately felt a new wave of anxiety start to flow until you also pulled out a ring box from your own pocket. The sight made him fall even deeper in love with you. Deeper than he had ever thought fathomable.

"I was gonna ask....if you wanted to marry me too?" You say with a shy grin, cheeks tinted pink.

His response? An endless flurry of kisses on your face and just as endless love and devotion.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Rocketear

The Rocketeer is a 1991 Disney movie set in 1930's America where a test pilot gets a jetpack and uses it to fight Nazis and— Wait, what? “Rocketear”? Oh, damn it!

Let's get into the eleventh (chronologically the seventeenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Rocketear.

We start off with Carapace and Cat Noir struggling to hold back some T-Rexes brought back to life by a scientist Jurassic Park style. Seriously, they reference the movie in the same scene.

Why wasn't this the plot of the episode again?

After managing to tame the dinosaurs with a whistle of all things, Ladybug notices something's wrong with Nino after he gives the Turtle Miraculous back to her. Apparently, he's wondering why Rena Rouge (who he knows is Alya) wasn't recruited with him today. Ladybug tells him that he was the only help she needed today. In reality, it's because Alya has adjusted to her new role of supporting Ladybug behind the scenes in her new form, Rena Furtive.

And I'm not a fan of the new form. I get the camo, but it doesn't really help her blend in when her suit is bright blue. I think it's based off the arctic fox, but that animal is able to camouflage itself because it's fur matches the snowy environment. I'm sure a bright blue jumpsuit won't stand out when she tries to blend in at all. Also, the fact that Alya can just change her hero form gives even less excuses as to why Ladybug's new form is only when she uses her Lucky Charm.

Alya is struggling to keep this a secret from Nino because they don't have a lot of secrets in their relationship. Marinette says she can kind of get it because she had to keep her identity a secret from her friend and has to keep keeping her identity a secret from everyone else. Basically, she's telling Alya to suck it up because this is what being a superhero is.

So the next time she sees Nino, Alya tells him she's no longer Rena Rouge, but not about Rena Furtive, which troubles her. The very next scene shows Alya showing Marinette pictures she took of her new costume and asking her which version looks better.

You could always try reviewing Akuma fights. I heard there's one blog that does it when they're not criticizing the famous director Thomas Astruc on social media.

Yeah, in case you can't tell, Alya was only able to rent her brain for a few episodes because she really doesn't seem as understanding about being a superhero as she was in earlier episodes. In episodes like “Optigami” and “Sentibubbler”, we saw Alya use more strategy and show discretion as Rena Rouge, seemingly taking her job more seriously, but then this episode just had to go and piss it all away. I also love how the first time the animators made Alya's skin the same when she's transformed is in a single frame for a joke.

Alya thankfully deletes the picture, but Nino overhears her talking about struggling to find more content for the Ladyblog, and decides to go to the movies with her to help take her mind off things. Nino, in turn, proceeds to give the same reaction to the in-universe Ladybug movie that Astruc gives to the PV.

Apparently, that movie's already getting a sequel and it has a teaser. So was the sequel animated at the same time as the original like Back to the Future Part II and Back to the Future Part III?

Nino gets pissed the next movie in the Ladybug Cinematic Universe will feature Rena Rouge and not Carapace... even though Rena Rouge debuted first. The teaser then shows Rena Rouge falling for Cat Noir (yet another creative liberty taken by the writers or something Astruc's self-insert threw in himself), and takes it like it's the real thing. Dude, the first movie said Ladybug was afraid of cats, and the director yelled at the person it was based on for judging it. He clearly has a hard time distinguishing fiction from reality.

Alya leaves Nino early so she can go on patrol, but Nino sees Cat Noir heading out as well. He then watches a video on the Ladyblog where Alya praises Cat Noir which is totally not Astruc projecting or anything.

I don't know what your definition of a prince is, Alya, and I honestly don't want to know.

So Nino takes this as evidence that Alya is in love with Cat Noir and decides to tell Adrien, who naturally laughs him off. And just before you think we have an episode where Adrien plays the straight man, Adrien decides to visit Alya because he's afraid he accidentally charmed Alya.

Yes, because Cat Noir is so charming, girls are just fighting over him, aren't they?

We then cut to a black and white film noir monologue by Nino (dressed like a detective with a fake mustache), who decides to spy on Alya. When Cat Noir asks Alya if she is attracted to him, she naturally laughs him off, though Cat Noir is thankfully a good sport about it, even giving her a hug to apologize. Unfortunately, Nino took this the wrong way.

The next day at school, Nino takes Adrien into his “office” (it's really an excuse to reuse the boiler room setpiece), and shows him the picture of the hug. Adrien says that Alya would never fall for Cat Noir because she's always dedicated to finding out the truth and telling her boyfriend everything. What's Nino's retort?

Okay, several problems with this bit. First of all, why would Nino even tell Adrien any of this? What would it accomplish? Why not say all this to Alya while confronting her about her alleged unfaithfulness? Second, Ladybug didn't give Nino and Alya their Miraculous at the same time until it was an absolute emergency. She outright said in “Hero's Day” that she didn't have time to recruit Nino and Alya separately.

Ladybug: I'm sorry for what I'm about to do. I know I'm revealing your secret identities but I don't have time to find a good excuse to give them to you separately. Rena Rouge and Carapace, I need you both!

Nino and Alya kept their identities secret from each other until then, with Alya even keeping the fact she knew who Carapace was a secret as well. Nino didn't find out because “they don't hide anything from each other” (which I plan to talk about later).

Other than that, I actually liked Adrien in this scene. It was really investing to see him try to justify the whole secret identities rule while Nino blatantly said there was an exception. This is the kind of stuff I wanted to see when it came to Adrien doubting Ladybug, not him destroying things in his anger.

While Nino rants about how Cat Noir “stole” Alya from him, Shadowmoth sends an Akuma his way, turning him into Rocketear.

And the design he has is just boring. It's just a blue jumpsuit with some black spots that look like teardrops, a teardrop-shaped head and a visor. I think the reason this season's been relying more on past Akumas and using more Sentimonsters is because DQ is terrible at character designs. I mean, compare this suit with Aigraon from Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger (his Power Rangers counterpart is Wrench from Dino Charge).

The design does so much more with the teardrop motif, giving him a perpetually miserable face with tear lines going all over his body. Add that to a more diverse color scheme, and you have a much more visually stunning design. And this was created in real life, not rendered on a computer. I'm not sure if this is a budget thing or a laziness thing, but if it's the former, you really need to do better, animators.

The powers are meh, giving Nino the ability to fling explosive tears at enemies. It's a clever idea, and it makes sense he gets a power that parallels Cat Noir's, but I think maybe it would have been more interesting if he couldn't control the tears at all. Like, imagine if he was constantly crying like Blue Diamond, and with every tear he shed, Rocketeer could send it at whoever he felt was causing him misery, mainly Cat Noir, all while serving as a metaphor for people who blame others for their own personal issues. Better yet, make him look like the detective outfit Nino wore for the second act. It would have made him more unpredictable instead of making his tears generic projectile weapons.

Marinette and Alya see the fight and transform into Ladybug and Rena Furtive respectively, the former summoning her Lucky Charm, a projector. Is it just me, or has this been happening with Ladybug a lot recently?

Back to Rocketear, we get a good moment where Cat Noir intentionally lets the Akuma hit him so he can get a chance to resolve things diplomatically. See, this is a moment where Cat Noir's self-sacrificing nature feels heroic and not selfish like when he does it without Ladybug's permission to spite her. Unfortunately, it doesn't really go anywhere as Ladybug shows up and plays the recording Nino took (Alya found his phone earlier), while Rena Furtive uses her Mirage to give the audio to what actually happened that night.

Rena transforms back into Alya and embraces Rocketear, who apologizes to her for his behavior. And then he just... rejects Shadowmoth's power while looking like it wasn't that much effort.

At least when Chloe and Alya did it, we saw them struggling for a little longer. I guess maybe it's because Nino is motivated by his love for Alya, but I think it should have been fleshed out more. So Ladybug purifies the Akuma, gives Nino a Magical Charm, and Cat Noir is still unsure about his feelings for Ladybug at the moment, though they still pound it.

Back in his room, Adrien ponders why Alya and Nino get to know their identities while he and Ladybug can't, but Plagg points out it's because she's the Guardian. It's brief, but I do like seeing Adrien start to doubt Ladybug's judgment, and it looks like it'll foreshadow future episodes. This is a problem I've had since “Hero's Day”, and I'm glad the writers are finally acknowledging this double standard. I just hope they don't end up blaming Marinette for whatever happens later on.

Marinette, of course, apologizes for what happened between Alya and Nino, and I have to say... yeah, no. It's obviously Nino's fault here.

Nino really pushed personal boundaries in this episode, much like Marinette's friends in “Gang of Secrets”. Yes, honesty is a valuable trait, but sometimes, people have secrets they want to keep to themselves. Nino's idea of “not hiding anything from each other” is somewhat controlling, like he's demanding Alya tell him everything whether she wants to or not. The fact that he immediately assumed Alya was cheating on him without giving her freedom to make her own choices doesn't make him look good. Let's be honest, a more realistic outcome would be Alya choosing to break things off with Nino or at least lecture him about how she can do what she wants and keep the secrets she wants. But instead...

And that's how the episode ends.

Okay, Marinette just said she trusted Alya to make the right decision, but I highly doubt she meant this. Marinette strictly said Alya had to keep Rena Furtive a secret, and now she's telling Nino this despite the risk? The whole reason Marinette and Luka broke up was because Marinette had to keep her secrets from Luka, but now it's okay for Alya to be completely honest? How is this not a double standard?

This episode was just dull, and there’s not even much I can really say about it.. There were a handful of standout moments, and the stuff with Adrien was somewhat compelling, but Nino's behavior was just insufferable and dragged the episode down. The Akuma fight was weak, only lasting about four minutes at most, and while the Lucky Charm was more creative this time, the plot was just frustrating. It's really one of the weaker episodes this season.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to watch the better Rocketeer.

[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 1: Rimming

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,560

Warnings: Rimming, anal sex, some vaginal fingering, himbo Ben (mild unintentional hypnosis I guess)

A/N: Welcome to Kinktober! This is actually an idea i’ve been thinking about for quite a while. We’ve done himbo Rog and himbo Gwil so it only seemed fair to do himbo Ben and since he’s obviously an ass man......only made sense that he’d be into anal lmao. It seemed like the perfect fit for the first of these prompts. But this is the first time I’ve written (or even really thought about) rimming so I hope it’s okay!

“Geeze Ben, could you maybe close your porn next time. Didn’t really expect to see that autoplay when I woke the computer up this morning,”  Ben snorted into his plate of eggs, “Which one was it?”  “Something called Anal Punisher 3.”  “Don’t know what you’re complaining about, that’s a good one.” His eyes twinkled teasingly and he poked his tongue out as you sat in front of your own plate.  “I’m sure it is.” You chuckled, able to see the funny side now that you weren’t staring directly at close up of a porn stars arsehole, “Just not when I’m trying to check my emails on our shared desktop.”   “As if you’ve never had a cheeky wank at that computer.”  “That’s what I have a laptop for,” You laughed again, shaking your head.  “Alright, fair play. I only left it up cause you got home early last night and I had to, um, clean up.”  You rolled your eyes at the flimsy excuse.  “And if you don’t want me watching Anal Punisher 3 then maybe you should let me punish your anal....arse....fuck, you know what I mean.”  It was your turn to snort into your breakfast, Ben’s clumsy attempt at seduction nearly making you inhale the scrambled eggs. When you finally got yourself under control you said, “I don’t care if you watch it, just shut it down when you’re finished.”   “Sorry love,”  “But  y’know, if you did want to anal arse fuck me tonight I wouldn’t say no.”  Ben’s eyes lit up in excitement. He’d either not heard the joke you’d made at his expense or decided it wasn’t worth bringing up if the possibility of anal was on the table, “Serious?”  “Serious. I’ll even put my plug in when I get dressed so we don’t have to spend as much time on foreplay.”  “If I hadn’t already married you, I’d propose on the spot.” 

But by the time Ben got home he seemed more interested in just cuddling on the couch. You’d done as you said you would and worn your plug all day, constantly thinking about what would happen later that night. Right up until Ben stepped inside yawning, when you snuck off to the bathroom to remove it, realising your plans were unlikely to go ahead. You’d half expected him to fall asleep on the couch after dinner but evidently, some part of him still wanted you. He tapped his thigh and beckoned you towards him, pulling you down so he could hold you close and kiss your shoulder. Soon enough that cuddling had turned to making out, you straddling his lap as you kissed him deeply, his large hands pulling you into him, stroking whatever bare skin he could find. Without thinking you dragged your fingers through his hair. He hummed in response so you did it again, your fingers creating small, firm circles against his scalp, drawing random patterns there as you focused on keeping your lips on his and your tongues entwined. Ben made soft pleased sounds as your fingers kept up their movement, almost moaning at the sensation. You could feel him getting harder under you as you carefully rocked your hips.   “Benny?”  “Huh?”  His hands had begun to roam more, moving down to your arse, grabbing and squeezing as he pulled you against him.  “Kinda got me excited here honey. Might wanna stop if you’re too tired to carry through,”  “What?”   He seemed nearly dazed, not properly comprehending what you were saying.   You shifted your hand to his chest, drawing small circles with your finger, “I mean I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day anyway.”  “Think?”  “Exactly, thinking about our conversation this morning. Remember? Anal Punisher 3?”  “Anal?” It was still a question but there was a tone of excitement behind the dopey confusion.  “You said you wanted to.... I kinda really want you to.”  “Mmmm,”  “I mean I get it if you’re too tired,” you said softly, stroking your palms over his biceps, “but I’m up for it now if you are. So, do you still want to?”  “Mmhmm,” but as keen as he sounded, Ben didn’t seem inclined to move to the bedroom or even to begin to undress you. He was too caught up in feeling you up and trying to kiss you again.   “Don’t you want me Benny?”  He was slow to react, eyes still shut as he nodded, speech flowing like treacle “Want - you.”  “You can have me.” You had to lean back to stop him from kissing you again. As much as you liked making out, you were getting eager for more and wanted to know where he was at.  He nodded again, not seeming to hear you, and then, when he couldn’t immediately locate your lips again, opened his eyes.   It reminded you of the time a few friends had dragged you and Ben to a hypnotists show. None of your group had been pulled on stage to experience the hypnotic powers the man claimed to have, but those who had been had all worn similar expressions to Ben. Eyes heavy lidded and almost glazed over and when they’d gone back to their seats you’d noticed that they seemed a bit dazed and confused. You’d not seen Ben look like that before. Well, maybe a bit dazed after you gave him a proper good blow job, but nothing to this extent. Not even when you edged him repeatedly. He tended to get whiny and loud rather than glassy eyed and dopey. Usually more talkative too, begging or moaning your name. This was something new.  

Curiously, you stoked his hair back off his face and asked him how he felt, tugging lightly on the ends that reached the back of his neck.  “Good,” he sighed softly, “Kiss?”  You couldn’t deny him that when he’d asked so cutely, so you leaned in to kiss him again, letting him draw you in deeply for a moment. When the chance arose you let your lips slip from his, kissing along his jaw until you reached his ear, “What else do you want?”  Ben hummed softly and then said, “Arse.”  It was unusual for Ben to be so monosyllabic. Even when he was super horny and desperate for you, he could generally get most of a coherent sentence out. Nothing that would win any literary awards of course, but enough so you knew what he meant.  “What do you mean Benny?”  “Ummm....arse.....cock.”  It sounded like it had been a struggle for him to even think of the two words he wanted but you couldn’t help but giggle, “Does that mean you want to fuck me?”  “Yeah,”  “Okay baby. But you have to do everything I say, understand?”  Ben nodded.  “Can you do what I say Benny? Be a good boy and follow my instructions?”  He nodded again, “Yes. Please.”  You kissed him once more, trying not to laugh too much, and then scooted off his lap.  Ben whined as soon as the physical contact was broken.  “If you want my arse we gotta move to the bedroom,”  He frowned as if he didn’t quite understand but let you take his hand all the same and followed you to the bedroom. 

Ben’s hands began to wander again when you stopped to open your bedroom door, grasping your hips and then dropping lower to rest against your behind.   It was hard to ignore the tingle the light contact sent through you but you bit down on your rising need as you turned and grasped Ben’s hands, “Gotta wait for that Benny. Just a little longer.” You stepped back towards the bed and Ben smiled dopily as you pulled him along. “I mean I’m ready but not all the way. But if you help get me lubed up you can fuck my arse for as long as you want.”  It was like a light turned on inside Ben’s mind. His eyes still had that unfocused look but they were wider and he was nodding enthusiastically.  “You gonna undress me or should I start for you?” You laughed and when he didn’t immediately move you began pulling your shirt off over your head, too eager to wait. You reached behind you to unclasp your bra, “C’mon Benny. Help me out.”  Ben blinked twice before he seemed to understand but was soon offering his help, pulling the bra from your arms, gently cupping your breasts as he revealed them, thumbs falling into a familiar rhythm rubbing back and forth over your nipples. Still moving slowly, Ben leaned in and kissed your throat, humming in response as you pressed your chest into his hands and sighed contentedly. But he clearly had something else on his mind because soon enough his hands fell, fingers picking at the waistband of your leggings. Indulging him you quickly shed your pants, turning so he could see the thing he really wanted as you stripped off the final layer of clothing. Ben watched intently as you wiggled your hips teasingly and eked the waistband of your knickers down a few inches. And then something changed. 

You felt it in the air, a shift in energy, but even that wasn’t enough to prepare you as Ben growled and lunged forward, his hands tight on your waist as he lifted you onto the bed, barely giving you time to settle on your hands and knees before he dived in behind you.   All you could manage was to gasp his name as he rushed to tear your underpants down your thighs. But your surprise at his sudden movement doubled as he spread your cheeks and buried his face between them. He’d licked you like that once or twice but only when he’d been eating your pussy and teasingly snuck his tongue elsewhere as you tried to recover from your orgasm. This was entirely different.  

It felt similar to the vaguely tickly sensation he made you feel when he was helping you relax before a round of anal, when he would tease you with light strokes from his fingers until you were shivering and wanting more. But there was more heat to it. His breath hot and his tongue wet as he traced your hole. You felt like you’d been completely lit up from within, like he’d suddenly discovered a hundred more nerve endings than he usually hit. And adding to all the physical sensations of Ben’s fingers holding you open and his mouth exploring your darkest nooks, was the feeling of doing something properly filthy. You’d felt the same when you and Ben first tried anal, completely depraved at enjoying something so taboo. That feeling had lessened as you did it more, your enjoyment then stemming from Ben’s improved skills more than the act itself. But with your head against the sheets and your arse in the air you remembered why you’d liked feeling so downright dirty. It only heightened your desire and made every caress of Ben’s tongue sweeter.  

Of course, best of all was just how into Ben was. You wondered how he could possibly be breathing when every second seemed to be taken up with moans and groans as he feasted on you. The noises started softly as he tantalized you with hard licks against your arsehole and the surrounding area. But as his tongue explored deeper, as he pressed into you, making your arse feel slick and hot with his drool and making your pussy throb, he got louder. He seemed to enjoy you more and more, as if he’d never eaten anything as satisfying in his life. That was enough to have you shaking. You were already wet from grinding against him on the couch but the ways he was touching you and how thoroughly he was enjoying it had you positively soaked.   “Finger me Benny,” you gasped, trying to maintain some of the control you’d intended to have.  Ben did as you asked, never able to deny you what you craved, but it wasn’t up to his usual standard. His fingers weren’t as deft as normal, moving awkwardly and out of time. It was as if his fingers were trying to work off of muscle memory alone, his mind too consumed with something else to take any notice of your cunt.   With a needy whine you clumsily disentangled one fist from the sheets and batted Ben’s hand out of the way, replacing it with your own.  Ben didn’t make any indication that he’d noticed you start touching yourself, except to tighten his grip on your arse, holding you firmly as you began to writhe against your fingers. He happily went back to gripping a cheek in each hand, pulling them wide to give himself better access to your arsehole.   It seemed that wearing your plug had been a good idea because Ben found it easy to press his tongue into you, licking around and making your muscles tighten before withdrawing and sinking in again.   And that stimulation plus your own fingers in your cunt made you moan wantonly into the bedding.  Ben answered with his own long, loud moan of desire, sending a shiver along your spine. It was enough to tip you over the edge, your fingers massaging a spot within you as Ben rapidly tongued your hole. 

You rode out your high before letting your fingers slip back to tangle in the sheets once more, but Ben showed no signs of stopping. He might very well have kept up the intoxicating performance all night if you hadn’t whined his name. Even that wasn’t enough to make him stop entirely, just slow down and hum.  “Ben? Benny?” you gasped, as he readjusted his grip on you, “You gonna fuck me or what?”  Ben groaned as if he didn’t want to stop tasting you but wanted to move on to other things as well. And you were on the verge of instructing him to get the lube when you felt his fingers. He reached under you, two digits carefully tracing along your cunt, sliding through the creamy evidence of your earlier orgasm. He didn’t break contact, his fingers just as softly sliding along your crack and up to your arsehole. And then they were pushing against the ring of muscle.  Usually he’d take his time applying lube but he seemed too lost in the moment to remember it. You didn’t mind too much though. Lube might have made it a touch more comfortable but wearing the plug had helped loosen you up and Ben had thoroughly coated everything with his saliva and your own cum. His fingers breached you moderately easily, making you shiver and whine at the feeling of being filled again.   “God it’s a good thing we do this a lot,” you half sighed, half laughed into the sheets, as Ben’s fingers sank another inch into you.  Ben’s only response was to lean forward and lick around where his fingers were penetrating you, humming happily as he did so. 

Ben seemed inclined to spend just as long fingering you as he did licking you, but the way his fingers moved inside you quickly had you worked up and eager for more.   “God Ben. You’re hard right?”  Ben only pumped his fingers into you faster but you took it as a yes.  "So fuck me already. Please Benny,” It came out whinier than you’d expected so you cleared your throat and tried a proper demand, “I need your cock in my arse now Ben.”  You weren’t sure it would be enough to get Ben’s attention. He seemed too engrossed in fingering you to even hear what you were saying. But thankfully, something broke through his blinders.  Suddenly, his fingers disappeared. It was followed by the sound of his pants coming down and then you felt the head of his cock against your back entrance.  “Wait,” You gasped, “Wait. Lube.”  Ben repeated the word lube in a grunt, shifting hips slightly so he could run his shaft along your soaked cunt. You felt him between your lips, as if he were teasing you, sliding back and forth, coating his length in your juices.   A moment later, he returned to your other hole, his hands on your hips to pull your arse back onto him.  Ben let out a satisfied groan as he sank into you but you were panting roughly, almost seeing stars with how good it felt to finally be filled the way you wanted to be. Once or twice your breath hitched, the discomfort of his size pushing into you exacerbated by the lack of proper lube. But it wasn’t enough to truly bother, certainly not enough to stop. The fact that just seeing your arse had made Ben snap into an animalistic, almost feral demeanour had made you impossibly horny. And you were desperate for him to fuck you properly now he was fully sheathed in your arsehole’s tight embrace.   Ben moaned at the feeling, vocalising your own desire. And then he said something.   “What was that Benny?” you asked, unable to comprehend him.  “Fuck....arse......hngggg.....arse.....” he said though you were sure you were missing something. But as nonsensical as it was it was still hot. Knowing Ben was so desperate for this, for you, knowing you could make him babble incomprehensibly. It was insanely hot.   And then he began to fuck you.   You whined and brought your hand to your pussy again, finding your clit, though Ben’s frantic thrusts made it hard to keep the contact consistent.  

You screamed when you came, voice tearing out of your throat as Ben roughly pounded into you, his hips almost bruising hard against your arse.   It was nearly impossible for you to breathe under so much pleasure and you panted for air as the orgasm subsided.  But Ben was still going, still thrusting into you furiously, grunting with the effort as he neared his own release.   You gasped his name and told him to cum, trying to not get swept away by the feeling of his cock moving inside you, wanted him to keep going almost as much as you wanted to feel his semen warm you from the inside out, and drip out of you.   Your request was enough to make him shudder to a halt, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he released himself with a groan.  He thrust a few more times and your limbs gave out. You felt them wobble and then collapse under you, Ben’s body pressing you into the mattress as he sank down too, still trying to fuck you.  

It took you saying his name twice before he stopped though he made a reluctant sort of a sound when he realised he had to pull out.  “Well if you didn’t fuck me so well you probably could have gone on a bit longer,” you laughed as he, somewhat grudgingly, pushed himself to his feet.  With a satisfied groan you rolled over and stretched your arm out to grab Ben’s hand so you could pull him onto the bed too.   He lay on his front, sighing as his head fell into the crook of your neck, his body resting almost entirely over yours.   You were half being crushed by his weight but you enjoyed it. It was comforting and warm and you softly drew your hands over his back as you caught your breath properly.  Ben was quiet as he lay there until, some ten minutes later, he suddenly pushed himself to his knees, blinking at you. His eyes still had a vaguely unfocused appearance but the more he blinked the more normal he seemed.   “Are you okay?” He asked slowly.  You laughed and nodded, “More than okay. Lie back down, I’m too tired to sit up.”  He compiled with your request, lowering himself again but this time on his back, “I have no idea what just came over me, babe.”  With a sigh you shifted to your side, propping your head up on one hand, “What do you mean?”  “All I know is I saw your arse and just needed it, more than anything else, more than air, I just wanted you.”  “Gotta admit, it was a little unexpected,” you lay your palm on Ben’s chest, his skin still flushed and warm to the touch, “But ummmm, definitely didn’t hate it.”  His hand landed gently on top of yours, holding you against his heart, “Did I use any lube at all?”  “Only spit and my cum.”  “Fucking hell. Are you sure you’re okay?”  “It’s fine Benny. If I’d needed anything else I would have made you stop. If I’m honest....kind of made it hotter.”  “Babe!”  “Not in a weird way! I’m not going to let you get away without lube all the time.” You laughed, “Just knowing you wanted me so badly was nice.”  “I always want you badly.”  You patted Ben’s chest softly, your heart fluttering, “Does that mean you’d want to eat my arse again another time?”  “You liked it?”  “Well you were very thorough.”  Ben groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes which just made you laugh again.  “I did enjoy it,” you said softly, deciding to put him out of his misery, “Wasn’t necessarily expecting it but it felt really good.”  “Well that’s something. I still don’t understand what just happened though.”  “What’s that saying...Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?” 

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini 

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

If My Kingdom Falls, I’ll Lose it All

A birthday gift to the lovely @aidensm8. Ty so much @dramaticsnakes for beta-reading <33333

Cws: minor angst, feeling of not being good enough, implied overworking, neglecting self-care

Summary: "A good king takes care of himself."

"I'm not a king yet."

---

Roman was a prince. A prince who would soon become a king. There were too many things to do and the golden-eyed guard kept on getting in his way.

AO3

The Sanders Kingdom received the provocative letter that detailed the new laws set for their neighboring kingdoms that would soon fit their own as well. The King had discussed the arrangement, focusing on the inflation or artisan goods and rations provided to the people. The meetings took place over several months with no changes made in favor of the Sanders Kingdom. The nation soon declared war, providing that regulations were detrimental to-

“-no no, you should have seen him last night. He was a complete mess.”

Roman let out an exhale. The guards were socializing by his door again. When would they learn that they were getting paid to stand there and not go around pretending the castle was the local pub? He harshly stood up from his chair, not minding how it made a semi-loud sound as it moved across the floor. He made a few quick steps to open the door, glaring with the first guard he saw. 

A walking stereotype. Muscles, dark hair, and a straightened-up posture once he saw Roman’s presence. Roman took in a small breath. Kings were polite with their people. He had to be kind and civil. He slipped a small smile on his face, making the edges of his eyes crinkle slightly, “Gentlemen.��

The guard looked at Roman’s eyes for a moment, but the eye contact seemed uncomfortable for the man. The guard slipped on a smile but it was filled with apprehension and hesitation.  “Prince- Prince Roman. I hope we didn’t disturb you.”

Well, you did, he bitterly thought. He let a small chuckle escape him, one that wasn’t out of personal enjoyment but to rather relieve the tension. “You didn’t, but could you two tell the guards by hallway C to rotate their positions with you?” He didn’t know which guards he was swapping out, but they must have been better than these two. 

He looked over at the other guard, almost forgetting he existed. His eyes were slightly narrowed as a tight smile rested on his face. His eyes were peculiar. Roman barely had time to dissect the distaste painted over the man’s face as he noticed a golden eye staring back at him. It seemed to stare through his soul and assert that he was the royal one there. 

Roman swallowed the feeling down his throat as the original guard spoke, “As you wish, Prince Roman.” The guard made a few steps away from the door, the armor clinking quietly around him. He took a look back, noticing that the guard positioned next to him hadn’t moved. 

“Sir Deceit?” The guard with the golden eye- who was apparently Sir Deceit- looked away from Roman and to the other guard. 

He took a quiet exhale as he nodded at Roman. “As you wish, Prince Roman.” There might have been another moment where Sir Deceit lingered there for a second longer than he should have, but the time flew by Roman as the guard soon walked away. 

Deceit. It was an odd name for a guard. A guard that’s supposed to be honest and truthful to his kingdom was going by Deceit. Roman momentarily wondered what Sir Deceit’s real name was before he shook his head to himself and retreated back into his room. Names were kept secret out of safety. Something about how it lowered assassination attempts or perhaps just general threats.

A part of his mind kept returning back to the guard as he sat down and tried to continue reading about their foreign affairs. He shouldn’t care about the guard, he just had a weird eye and name and that was the end of it. He had a kingdom that would fall into his hands within a matter of months. He didn’t have time to focus on the insignificant details of his workers.

---

Roman moved his hands around as the book suggested. One around an imaginary waist and the other holding an invisible hand. He slowly stepped forward while holding the pose, then moving to the right as he turned around to end up in the starting position. He took a small breath as he proceeded to widen his stance. The book reminded him how important it was, but he kept on forgetting.

A warm voice called out from behind him. “Prince Roman, permission to speak freely?”

Roman turned around. He was about to decline the permission to the guard when he noticed his eyes. Golden-eyed boy was guarding him again. He wished the guard’s name didn’t feel familiar on his mind. “Permission granted.”

“You’re doing horribly.”

Roman felt his body become tense as he forced his posture to vaguely loosen up, but the confusion on his face was evidence of his initial reaction. Rule one- a guard should never insult royalty. Roman felt any confidence he could’ve had leave him as he turned away from him. “I’m still learning, Sir Deceit.”

Footsteps made their way behind him as warm hands gently fell onto his body. Sir Deceit’s chest was pressed against his back as he slowly pushed Roman’s arms to be more curved and open. He whispered into his ear, “You can’t learn such a fluid dance from a book. The pages are so rigid, it’s practically incorrect to learn that way.”

Before Roman could’ve made any comment, Sir Deceit walked around him, interlocking their fingers in his left hand and placing Roman’s other hand onto his waist. Roman looked Sir Deceit up and down. The guard seemed to know what he was doing with how calmly he looked up at Roman. Warmness was present on him, gently reminding him that he needed to do something. “S- Sir Deceit, this is quite unprofessional of you. I’ll have to ask you to remove your hands from me.”

Roman almost wished that they stayed together a bit longer, but they were separated as soon as they were joined. “As you wish, my prince.”

He could feel the phantom warmth on his skin. He looked away from Sir Deceit and to the book. “You’re dismissed, Sir Deceit.”

Sir Deceit let out a small hum. It was one of approval, but it was so… wrong. There wasn’t a witty remark that Roman knew was in the back of his mind or a protest to stay. There wasn’t even a statement of agreement. Just a small noise.

But what was Roman doing? His coronation was coming close and he had to know the kingdom’s traditional dances by heart to not look a fool. Yet, he somehow felt like one already. With warmness tingling on his waist and hand, he repositioned his body into the starting position.

---

Roman faced the mirror, critically eyeing the man he saw in it. While it was him in the mirror, it wasn’t him. He wore a newer outfit, but it was still in the same style as his wardrobe. He carefully moved a few hairs to lay slightly on his face. Enough to look casual, but not enough to look messy. 

He tensed at the muffled snicker behind him. He turned around, almost expecting his brother there but he only saw a gua- Sir Deceit. The man held a hand to his mouth, but Roman could still see how his eyes crinkled. Roman raised an eyebrow, “Is something funny?”

Sir Deceit shook his head before he dropped his hand to reveal the smile on his face, “Prince Roman, permission to speak freely?”

Roman let out a short breath as he held a tensed smile. The words were too light-hearted. As if he wasn’t a guard who worked for him and instead as if they were friends for many years. “Permission granted.”

Sir Deceit took a few small steps towards him. Roman found himself looking away and towards the mirror, but even that still held his the guard’s reflection. He could luckily see that the man’s eyes lingered on his outfit instead of him. “It’s ridiculous,” Sir Deceit quietly said, almost as if it was to himself. “You spend so much time on everything that’s already perfect that you fail to acknowledge what actually needs to be fixed.”

Roman scoffed, “If you’re so fashionably gifted then please let me know what needs to be ‘fixed.’” The last word was sarcastic as Roman resisted rolling his eyes.

“Your collar,” Sir Deceit responded without hesitation. “It’s a bit crooked.”

Roman looked into the mirror. His collar seemed normal to him- perfect even. Perhaps Sir Deceit was just a liar trying to get a rise out of Roman to finally prove that he shouldn’t be king. Maybe even point out that learning what kings should know shouldn’t be so difficult for him. “My collar is fine.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Roman took his gaze away from his collar and towards Sir Deceit. “You’re dismissed, Sir Deceit.”

Sir Deceit stood there for a moment before he took the smallest step towards Roman. He gently grabbed Roman’s collar, making a few tugs that Roman caught in the mirror before the guard pulled away. “I didn’t hear you, what did you say?” There was a hidden smugness behind the words that made Roman smile.

“My collar was fine, but-” thank you. He shouldn’t thank a guard, he was simply doing his job. Guards didn't get thanked for the bare minimum, only if they saved a life or did something else heroic. “You’re dismissed, Sir Deceit.”

Janus nodded once, apparently pleased with Roman’s response. “As you wish, my prince.”

---

Roman let out a long breath as he tried to read over the words again. They only seemed blurrier as more tears filled his vision. It was simple, he shouldn’t be acting so stupid about it. Although the laws contradicted each other, he was sure they made sense. He just wasn’t trying hard enough. 

He let out a slow, shaky breath, as he leaned back in his chair. He gently blinked the tears out, willing himself not to sob in the library. He carefully wiped the shed tears away, making sure not to rub them so his face wouldn’t be splotchy. A good king didn't cry over something so easy.

A moment too long passed with only more emotion brewing inside him. He looked down at his book again, his gaze momentarily catching a guard’s, but he quickly focused his mind on the book. 

The words were still blurry, but he tried to make himself focus on the content. Perhaps he wasn’t even reading the words anymore, only scanning the page in case it would randomly start to make sense. Somewhere between seconds and minutes, he felt a warm presence on his shoulder that made him want to curl up in hopes that it surrounded him. Through a quick glance, he spotted a gloved hand resting there. “Prince Roman, permission to speak freely?”

It was Sir Deceit. He didn’t remember that the man wore gloves. Roman nodded to the guard’s question, not trusting his voice with a confident answer.

“You should rest, my prince.” The sympathetic voice dripped into Roman’s ears, filling them with pity and kind-hearted melancholy.

Roman weakly shook his head. He didn’t need a break. He needed to understand. He blinked as a tear slid down his face and silently fell onto the page. He shouldn’t be this pathetic, it was simple. All the other kings understood it with ease- perhaps he didn’t deserve the role so graciously given to him.

Sir Deceit gave a gentle squeeze to Roman’s shoulder. The direct action made him wilt, any confidence he held fading away. When the book was removed from him, he followed it with his vision. He saw gloves holding it, dabbing the part of the page wetted by Roman’s tear.

Roman let out a quiet sigh as Sir Deceit closed the book. “You won’t get anywhere tonight and it’ll be here tomorrow.” The words were too gentle to reject, turning painfully in Roman’s chest. He stood up, but the feeling still lingered when he turned away. He took a step away from Sir Deceit, feeling the hand slowly slip off him. 

“You’re dismissed, Sir Deceit.” He couldn’t find himself to care that his voice broke or how he felt a sob breaking through him that he managed to quiet at the last moment. There was something hesitant said to him. Perhaps a farewell, goodbye, or another phrase for departure.

Or perhaps it was confirmation that he shouldn’t be king.

---

Roman stood in the mirror as he adjusted his collar. He cringed at the sight of himself as he tried to focus on anything else, but it all seemed so wrong. Flat hair accompanied with too-pale skin didn’t compliment the slight frown on his face. He tried to flash himself a smile, but it seemed far too flimsy. A small breath left him. He didn’t have anything to do, so he might just keep himself in the library. 

Not for long of course. Only an hour or two to refresh his mind. The steps there were easy after all. Sir Deceit trailed close behind. Roman would’ve complained about his constant presence, but a small part of him liked the familiarity of the golden eye accompanied by a warm voice. There was nothing personal about the attachment. The traits would have been nice on anyone.

The library brought a vague feeling of dread that he pushed down as he inhaled the calm scent of books. He walked to a table and sat down. A pile of books rested next to the chair. He quietly picked one up as he opened it to where he last was. 

The pages seemed kinder to him today. There was still minor frustration embedded into the words, but he still turned the page after a minute or two of processing what he read. He sat straight up, leaning to the side as he heard a few cracks from his back as he stretched. After a moment of letting his body move, he refocused his eyes onto the book. 

A warm voice welcomed him away from the text, “Prince Roman, permission to speak freely?”

Roman looked up from the book and to Sir Deceit. “Of course.” A soft smile found a way onto his face, but it felt the slightest bit strained. 

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

Roman frowned as he noticed an appetite that had appeared at random. He shook his head.

Sir Deceit continued where he didn’t, “Do you plan to eat soon?”

Roman shrugged. “I’m not sure how you view ‘soon,’ but I’ll eat eventually.”

The conversation quieted in a way Roman found himself comfortable with. He settled back into his book, only making it a few pages before Sir Deceit spoke again, “I can bring you something from the kitchen.” The words dipped into a concern that made Roman shift slightly in his chair. 

“Food isn’t allowed into the library.” It was odd that Sir Deceit apparently seemed to not know the rules of the castle, speaking so casually and making improper requests. 

“There’s more than rules in life, my prince.”

Roman tensed as he looked away from his book and up at Sir Deceit. He didn’t spend months if not years learning what the rules were for himself and the kingdom just for a guard to say that they weren’t important. “Rules define who a person is, Sir Deceit.” His voice was laced with bitterness he didn’t have the patience to apologize for.

Yet, Sir Deceit seemed oblivious to it as he shook his head. “They might define social norms and common courtesy, but they don’t do much more than that.”

Roman looked down at his book. He didn’t have time for this. Janus quietly sighed. “Would you like me to bring you something from the kitchen, Prince Roman?”

Roman didn’t bother to look up at the guard. “You’re dismissed, Sir Deceit.”

---

The uprising was ineluctable yet unscrupulous. Their power contended the sovereignty of their time with the insistence of their previous-

The sound of the plate in front of him brought him out of the pages and into the library. He blinked up at the food as his stomach let out a quiet growl. “I’m-” fine. His sentence was cut off by the sight of a yellow glove gently hanging at the side of the plate. He looked up, spotting Sir Deceit himself standing there. “I didn’t request this.”

Sir Deceit nodded once, the action too quick and smug for any possible hesitance to slip through. “I’m aware of that, Prince Roman.”

Roman let his shoulders drop slightly as he fiddled with one of the pages. “You can take that back to the kitchen,” he said through an exhale.

“A good king takes care of himself.”

Then I won’t be a good king. “I’m not king yet.”

“You’re practicing to become one, no?” Roman rolled his eyes. Even through his practices, most of the time he failed at the simplest traditions and memorization. “Roman, you have to take care of yourself. Even if you’re excited about your new position, you’re still… human.”

“I’m not excited about any of this,” the words were his own, but they left him without permission, only weighing heavily as he continued to talk, “I never asked to be a prince. I- I know I should be grateful, but…” He let his voice drift off with a long exhale picking up its place. His eyes drifted back to the book.

“Stand up.”

Roman chuckled as he looked up at Sir Deceit. “You’re a guard, you’re in no position to command a prince.”

Sir Deceit rolled his eyes with a faux smile on his face. “I would like to request you to stand up, my prince.” He held out a gloved hand out to Roman. Hesitation shined from the interaction, but Roman gently held Sir Deceit’s hand as he stood up.

Sir Deceit began walking as Roman followed along. They wandered through the old library, the silence stretching between them finding a comfortable place through their echoing footsteps. The guard turned around corners and hallways Roman had never seen, leading him to a wooden door that Sir Deceit opened with ease. 

Roman quietly gasped at the cold air that hit him. It was a door that led outside. Sir Deceit gently tugged for him to go further, but Roman stood where he was. “I’m not allowed to go outside after dark.” He looked through the door with admiration. The sky was dark as he saw glimpses of tall spruce trees and small specks of stars. 

Sir Deceit turned to him, a gentle smile on his face. Not one tinted with compassion, but one of adventure. “There’s more to life than social boundaries.”

And with a tug of his hand, Roman started slowly walking outside with his guard. The grass moved underneath his shoes. It would have done that in the day too, but it seemed so different with the quiet secretiveness.

It only took a few steps for Roman to stare at the stars. He saw them in old books and paintings hung across the walls, but he never saw them before. “What would have happened if I never brought you out here?” The question was quiet in a way that seemed rhetorical but it didn’t stop Roman from wondering. 

He looked down from the stars and into Sir Deceit’s eyes. The golden one seemed to oddly glow. “I would’ve stayed in the library.”

“No, I mean long-term.” Roman found himself taking glances away from Sir Deceit’s eyes and towards the stars behind him. “You would’ve missed this.”

Roman shook his head. “I would’ve eventually seen them.”

Sir Deceit shrugged. “I’ve looked through the rules. You’re only allowed out this late a few times a year.”

“So you do know what the rules are.”

Sir Deceit shook his head slightly, a silent laugh of sorts. “I’m well aware of what they are. I just know they aren’t worth paying attention to. Especially compared to moments like this.”

Roman found himself nodding to the words as he looked at his fingers interlocked with Sir Deceit’s. He tested the waters, giving the hand a small squeeze. He received one in return without a response.

He barely thought before he pressed his lips onto Sir Deceit’s. His eyes closed, but he could still feel the stars. He took his free hand to cup Sir Deceit’s cheek, keeping him close into the kiss. A slow moment passed before he pulled away with a smile. “You’re something different, Sir Deceit.”

“It’s Janus.”

Roman’s smile faltered for a brief moment. “You aren’t supposed to say your real name. You could be permanently dismissed- if not exiled for such a thing.” Something set uncomfortably in his chest at the idea of not seeing Sir Dec- Janus’ golden eye again. Or to hear how a question dripped in sarcasm and politeness at the same time.

Janus pressed a quick kiss onto Roman’s lips. “Maybe I don’t care anymore, prince Roman.”

“Just Roman.”

A small smile fell onto Janus. “Your name reveal was a little less dramatic.”

Roman let a chuckle escape him. “It’s not my fault I wasn’t given a secret name.”

Janus gave Roman’s hand a light squeeze. “You don’t need one, I’ll just call you mine.”

[issaxcharlie]

Ghost Of You 2/2

Pairing: Ghost! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke, Reggie and Alex have to assimilate their loss. For Luke of his girlfriend, and for the others of their best friend after suddenly learning that she didn’t have the future they imagined, and instead died 23 years ago.

Thank you to @cookiebuba for being the head of the entire idea and trusting me with it, and to Emy for almost holding my hand to force me to write🤣💜

PART 1 HERE

“It can’t be.”

“Luke, I-”

"No, Julie. You are not telling me that the woman of my life, the purest person who has ever stepped on this world, not only lost her partner and her best friends, but was only able to live her life for two more years and then ended in a horrible accident. It's as if life wanted to torture her before taking her too.”

“Love of ?... Zeppelin shirt you wore when you ran away. Of course.”

“I- It can’t be true, please tell me it’s not true, Julie.”

“Luke... she loved you so much.”

He falls on the floor. The impact is strong, as if his legs have stopped working.

"I know." He whispers slowly, his gaze empty as multiple tears fall from his eyes.

The rest of the gang threw themselves to the ground around him and hugged him with all their might, trying to unite his broken pieces without any success. Alex and Reggie each crying silently over the loss of their sweet friend.

“What day did she pass away? Alex whispers.

"Let me search, one moment." Julie gets up quickly and checks on her laptop to find a little note about the singer's death.

"The rising singer Y/N Y/L who had just released the biggest hit of her career passed away this afternoon in a terrible car accident after leaving the cemetery where her late boyfriend, Luke Patterson, was buried. Y/L was there in commemoration of the 2 years of the loss of the aspiring musician, who died from a sudden tragic intoxication along with the rest of his band. Something to rescue from this tragedy is that at least she's already reunited with her eternal love. May both rest in peace.”

“This can’t be. My Y/N can’t be gone. Not her, not like that.” Luke is still in denial, unable to believe that his little girl suffered such a terrible ending.

“Maybe she’s not. There's still a chance that she's also a ghost.”

“Yeah, Julie’s right. We need to look out for her, we can't write her off without trying to find her first.” Reggie's eyes sparkle with hope, rushing to cover Alex's mouth in case he says anything other than motivating.

Luke takes his flannel and disappears immediately. Both Reggie and Alex stare sadly at Julie who simply whispers a "go, he needs you." They nod and teleport to their friend.

As expected, Luke is in front of the window of an old music store. He met his girlfriend here so many years ago, the day his parents agreed to buy him his first guitar.

The store had a small section where customers could try out some instruments and she was playing the guitar they had there and singing for the small audience. It seemed like it was something she did often because both the workers and certain customers seemed familiar with the girl.

Luke was captivated by her from the first moment. The energy and passion that radiated from her in every move was unreal. He had never seen anyone happier, much less singing with a borrowed guitar from a small downtown store.

The store is completely abandoned, so without saying anything he comes in and walks towards the small stage.

The ghosts of two 12-year-old kids singing together into the microphone invades his memory. If they only knew.

"Do you remember what was the first thing she said to you?" Reggie and Alex sit next to him on the floor, looking straight at the very small stage. They both try to imagine what their friends must have looked like singing here together the first time. Luke totally invading little Y/N's presentation trying to captivate her with his 0% music experience and 100% of enthusiasm.

Luke laughs through tears. "You have the voice of a country singer."

Alex starts crying when he imagines her. He met her just a few weeks later so he knows exactly how she must have looked and sound.

Reggie smiles while shedding a tear, remembering all those afternoons Y/N convinced Luke to join them in their country sessions. He knows that's why Luke hasn't wanted to know anything about country or his songs since they got back. They remind him of his sweet girl.

“I was so offended. I still didn't know anything about music but I had already decided that I would be a rocker. If I hadn't already been so dazzled by her I would have left without looking back.”

“And what did you answer to defend your honor?”

"You think so?" The three of them start laughing while still crying. A heartbreaking mix of pain comes from their chests.

“C’mon guys, next stop.”

The three of them were teletransporting around the city during the day without any success. Luke's desperation increasing for every place the songwriter wasn't.

At night the three decide to go back to the studio. Luke is heartbroken, bloated after crying all day, eyes red and sore, and whatever it was that was driving him to continue, off.

His friends couldn't do much for him either because each was living the loss in their own way, concentrating on living their own pain until they could process it.

Julie wraps them in blankets on the couch and tries to fill them with love, making sure to hug Luke tightly, who seems about to fall apart.

“Does anyone want to talk about her? Maybe it could make you feel better.”

“She was my entire soul, the words and melody in each of my songs. I just, I love her more than anything in this world. I would give anything for her. My guitar, my voice, my songs, whatever it took for us to be together. I know it doesn't seem like it at this point, but we belong together.”

“We know you do, man.”

“I didn't tell you but I dream about her almost every night since we got back. It is always the same dream. She is in bed, leaving my side intact. She's wearing one of my shirts and hugging my favorite one while sobbing. She falls asleep listening to the ballad I wrote for her soaked in tears and no matter how hard I try to wake her up, I can't get her to see or hear me. I can’t get her. After a few minutes she gets up still asleep and begins to dance as we did so many times, but alone. Then she stops and starts crying again inconsolably. And that's when I wake up."

"I'm so sorry, Luke. She deserved so much more." Reggie walks over to hug him, his head resting on his arm while he sobs.

“We couldn't even say goodbye to her.” Alex cries, his eyes completely red.

“We already know that she visited your graves, perhaps we could do the same, dedicate a few words to her.” Julie offers in an attempt to help them find some peace.

Luke looks devastated, but he nods his head as tears continue to fall from his face, the ring that his girlfriend gave him going in and out of his finger. Alex hugs Julie while she strokes his hair in an effort to calm him down and Reggie runs up to get a notebook and pencil to start planning what to say to his best friend tomorrow.

The three of them hang around all night, crying, writing, hugging, remembering the spark of Sunset Curve. In the morning before going to visit her, they realize is exactly the 25th anniversary of that tragic night that changed the lives of the four forever. Luke nearly punches a hole in the wall upon hearing the sad coincidence.

Her grave is right next to Luke's, who has never been here before and can't help but feel a bit anxious.

“Don’t worry, I’ll start.” Reggie tells the guitarist as he takes a step forward, a small smile on his lips.

"Hello, princess. Long time, huh? I'm Reggie, by the way. In case you don't recognize me from the slight change in my hair. I am trying a little more gel, I want something more elegant and classic. What do you think? Yes, I also thought you would like it.” Julie and Alex smile at hearing him talk to her as natural as possible.

“I tried very hard to think of what to say, because if there is anyone who deserves my best words, it is you. And three things came to mind that I want to share with you.

First, the color yellow.

Yellow like the guitar you were saving for two years to buy. You did everything. You were a babysitter, you walked dogs, you worked in the school library, you sang with your old acoustic guitar in every cafe, basically everything that will let you win some money.

And the day before you could finally go buy it, my dad broke my bass in a moment of anger in one of his typical fights with mom that got really out of hand. At least he didn’t hurt her, huh? But when you're a kid you don't even think about the possibility that something like that could happen, you just focus on the broken instrument in your hand. I ran out and ended up on the stairs of your house with my face soaked and one of the broken pieces in my hand.

You hugged me and promised that everything would be fine. That I was always going to have you four and that we would always be family. You assured me that good things happen to good people. And I believed you, you know? You were always right. But now that I'm here, that I know you didn't have the happy ending you deserved, I'm honestly not so sure anymore.”

Luke and Alex start crying again, each hugging Reggie from one side. Reg tries with all his might to continue through the tears, while Julie looks at them with a broken heart.

“The next day when I came back from school a new bass was on my bed. You talked to Mom so she could take the credit for the gift, but coincidentally was exactly the bass that I fell in love with a year earlier when we went to check if your beloved yellow guitar hadn't dropped in price. Luke revealed to me a few months later that you had to borrow money from your mom in order to complete the exact money for that one.

How generous do you have to be in order to do something like that? how noble? How loving? How selfless? You were always more than I deserved. I was supposed to be like an older brother for you, but it was always you who took care of me. I have Julie and Carlos, and I'm trying to be with them as you were with me. I had the best step sister in the world to teach me, and I hope I can do you justice.” Julie starts crying too after hearing his words, and resists the urge to going to hug him because she knows that they need their space to let go all the suffering that they carry.

“Second, my leather jacket.

When we started the band we made a 100% commitment to being rockstars. And a very important part is the look. You accompanied me on a walk around the city looking for the right outfit to literally go sing to the people who were lining up in front of the clubs.

Anyone could have left me alone on that for multiple reasons, not even these two wanted to face the trouble. But you followed me without thinking twice.

The afternoon was over and we still haven't found anything. Our feet couldn't take it anymore and we had 10 minutes to run to the club. But we stopped by a little store that had a black leather jacket in the window and you said, Reg, this is it.

You excitedly took me by the hand and when I tried it on, the rest was history.

Then I tried to get the whole band to use them but these two boys without fashion sense didn’t want to. You, on the other hand, supported me and wore your leather jacket during all the Sunset Curve performances we had, convincing me that they were our good luck charms and that if we both used them everything would be amazing. Oh god, I miss you so much.

And third, a star.

I thought you were a star when I heard you sing for the first time.

I thought you were a star when you and Luke managed to write the whole Sunset Curve album in 2 months.

I thought you were a star when you bought me my bass, when you made Alex feel better after one of his strongest attacks, when you filled Luke with love and support when he needed it the most.

And I believe it now that I know you are gone.

If you are in heaven, you have to be a star. And not just a star, the brightest star of all. I promise to look for your light every night to wish you sweet dreams. I will also sing you some country since you were the only one who appreciated my incredible sound, I hope it makes you smile.”

“That was beautiful, Reggie. I’m sure she loved it.” Julie finally reaches out to hug him as Alex prepares to be next.

“Hey. I don’t even know where to start.

I- I guess I should start saying I could never pay you all the times you were there to pick me up when I needed someone the most. I went back to dancing a little again. It's not the same without you, but somehow it makes me feel you close. I also met someone, oh Y/N, he’s so special, I'm sure you would have loved him and I would have loved the opportunity to introduce him to you. You were always there.

You were there to support me when I decided to learn drums to cope with my anxiety. You sang the song I was practicing over and over to keep me company and reassure me that what I was doing sounded good.

You were there to support me when I told you I like to dance. We spent hours choreographing different iconic songs and just laughing and enjoying creating more memories together.

Not shocking at this point but you were also there for me when I confessed to my parents I’m gay and you gave me strength all those times that I wanted to fall because they no longer saw me the same way.

You were always my safe place. And I regret with all my heart that I couldn’t be yours.”

Alex breaks down. She kept them on their feet during her darkest days and they paid her off by causing her the most horrible pain imaginable. Julie and Reggie surround her in their arms while sobbing. The last one of the band standing moves closer to the grave and drops to his knees.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so fucking sorry.” Luke tries to be strong, but tears start falling like waterfalls from his eyes, his face red in a mixture of despair, sadness and anger.

“I will never forgive myself for leaving you alone. Baby, I've been without you for only 1 month and I’m going crazy, even with the boys and Julie by my side. I don't even want to imagine what you must have been through those two years. My soul is shattered just thinking about it.

At first when we returned I imagined you were happy after having fulfilled all our plans with someone else. And I thought nothing could hurt me more than that, but obviously I was wrong. Because although it hurt me that I couldn’t be the one who was with you, thinking that you had been happy gave me the peace to be able to continue. Now that I know that life took away your opportunity, the only thing I feel is anger.

Anger towards me, anger towards destiny. Anger at not being able to be together even after death. Since we discovered where you are, I have only been able to think of cross over and finally be with you again.

Or at least go back to the night before everything turned into a nightmare. Fall asleep with you in my arms one more time.

I swear I even miss your snoring and you biting my cheek after your goodnight kiss, as you would say, in a gesture of love.”

“Hello again, my love.

I can't believe 25 years have passed. First of all, I want you to know that I'm okay. Or well, the equivalent for ghosts that are destined to haunt the earth alone for all eternity. I made a friend for several years, Rose. I told you about her, remember? I know you guys would have been good friends, she was a ridiculously talented musician. Since she died I no longer had the strength to go back to the studio, but for a long time I enjoyed her company in one of my favorite places. She promised to tell you that I'm waiting for you. I will wait whatever time is necessary, okay? I love you so much, baby.

You three are always on my mind, and I think I can finally accept that the pain is just never going to go away. But lately something super strange has happened to me, let me tell you.

Throughout these years, in the darkest days, I see you. But, they were always memories.

A month ago, I started to see you having other kinds of experiences and I honestly don't know how to feel about it. Am I going that crazy? I selfishly hoped that you too were ghosts for so many years. I looked for you 5, 10, 15, 20 years. And just as I decide to give up, my head imagines you all over the city.

The first time I saw you singing Reggie's jam on the beach. You guys looked so happy, love. It filled my heart with peace for a few seconds, knowing that somewhere up there you are enjoying life singing together all day.

Then I saw my beloved Alex with a cute boy. My heart melted, I can’t even explain how much I wanted to run to hug him and gossip about it.

Baby, he looked so peaceful. I always wanted that for Alex. I didn't know whether to be happy or cry because that didn’t actually happen, so I did both.

The penultimate time was a few nights ago when I was walking in front of the Orpheum and I heard your voices. How wicked my mind is, right? A knife to the heart would hurt less.

And now, I can't even get close to your grave because I'm imagining you all again.”

Y/N doesn't know what to do, if she gets close enough will they disappear? What If they don’t? Will she bear to see them up close? She has been dancing with their ghosts in her dreams for so many years, but It’s not the same as doing it when she is fully awake.

She is about to run out of there in fear when the silhouette of a fourth person catches her attention. She doesn't know why, but it immediately reminds her of Rose. Could it be that she is imagining her friend too?

Curiosity is stronger than fear, like all those times when she got into trouble with her boys. She walks carefully towards her grave which is next to her beloved Luke.

“I swear I even miss your snoring and you biting my cheek after your goodnight kiss as you would say, in a gesture of love.”

“I don't freaking snore, I told you a million times already... and now I'm talking with my imagination, great.”

The band turns in shock towards the fifth voice. That's when she can see the girl's face and realize who she is.

“Julie? But, how?”

“Y/N?” Alex whispers on the verge of passing out.

She starts to panic, just before the boys can do something about it, a new person appears behind her.

“Hey, you took a long time." She turns around and jumps into the arms of who has become her only friend in recent years.

“Phoenix, thank god.” Her body continues to shake but she clings tightly to her friend while crying uncontrollably.

To say the ghosts are confused would be an understatement. And apart from that, the guitarist is having many conflicts with the jealousy that he is feeling at the moment. They haven't seen each other in 25 years and when they finally do, she runs into someone else's arms and clings to him like her life depends on it.

What does that mean for them? Is it too late?

“Beautiful, what's wrong? Who are they? Oh, wait. You guys were at the club a few weeks ago, you're friends with Willie, right?”

Luke feels like dying all over again hearing him call her that. She continues to shake but finally lets go.

“What? You can see them?”

“Shouldn’t I?” He looks at her skeptical and shifts his eyes from her to the ghosts.

“I- Oh my god. I'm going to pass out.“

“Baby, look at me.” Luke’s voice is a mix between a plea and a demand. The terror of knowing that perhaps he has already lost her without having had the opportunity to fight for her clouds his judgment and tears begin to fall from his face again.

25 years. 25 years fighting not to forget his voice. 25 years having him only in dreams, in memories, in melodies. 25 years waiting for him. 25 years on her own.

She turns slowly to meet those honey-green eyes she craved for so long to see, a painful smile from Luke makes her smile through tears.

She carefully lifts her right hand and gently draws it to his cheek, almost exploding at the feel of it.

“You came back. Oh my, It’s really you.” She jumps to the guitarist, entwining her legs at his hips, her arms tangled with all her strength around him, her head buried in his neck inhaling his scent. Tears coming out as if to drown her, all the pain and suffering that she faced all these years finally leaving her body.

Luke wraps her tightly in his arms, still unable to process what’s happening.

Alex and Reggie begin to smile without fully assimilating what is happening, while Julie begins to jump of joy.

“Babygirl, I'm sorry to ruin the moment but I have to rush to the club. Will you be okay here?"

“She's always safe with me." The guitarist growls, and Y/N starts laughing when she hears it.

"The jealous, protective baby in the beanie is right, don't worry Nix. I’ll go and find you later."

Phoenix nods with a smile and disappears. Julie begins to scold Luke while Reggie and Alex approach to touch the cheek of their best friend, still in the arms of the guitarist who does not seem to have any intention of letting go.

“We should go home to catch up. Reggie and I will accompany Julie, it seems that you two should speak alone first." Luke doesn't think twice and disappears with her in his arms.

“Good things happen to good people.” Reggie whispers as he hugs his friends and they start walking home.

Luke and Y/N reappear in the studio and they are both shocked for a few seconds. The girl trembles again in fear of dreaming.

“Hey, come here baby. Shh, I’m here, I promise.”

“Don’t leave me ever again, please.” He can see that it is very difficult for her to understand that is really happening, and to think that she lived without him not 2 but 25 years makes him want to cry again.

“I won’t. I promise, beautiful. Never again.” Luke wraps her in his arms, but she lifts her head from his chest to push her lips against his. The kiss is urgent, but they both instantly recognize each other and fit in perfectly. Luke picks her up again and gently lays her down on the couch, both desperate to feel the other, to recognize every inch.

“I missed you so much baby, I love you more than anything.” Luke whispers between kisses, not willing to have her an inch away from him.

“I love you my love. I love you, I love you, I love you.” She says while kissing the love of her life, happy for the first time in 25 years.

Before things get to escalate, the rest of the band shows up in the studio followed by Julie who clearly walks through the door.

"Let go of her man, it's our turn!" Y/N gets up quickly from the sofa while her boyfriend complains and she throws herself at both of them who pick her up as best they can and spin her in the air.

They put her down and Julie and her stare each other, both raise their arms and meet in a quick but sweet hug.

“You said my name back there, how?” The question that she has stuck since she met her finally coming to light.

“I met your mom many years ago when I came to visit the studio and realized that she could see me. We were friends for many years and I had the opportunity to see you grow up, but I always made sure to be upstairs when you came in in case you could see me too.”

“Well, now I understand how Carlos felt when he found out that we lived with ghosts. And It sounds like mom watches over us both from heaven.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she does.” Both girls smile and hug each other once more.

“I can't believe I endured 25 years without having those beautiful arms around me.” She whispers as they both lie on the couch, Luke has her completely cornered in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It breaks my heart that you have suffered that much for so many years.”

“It was not your fault. You lost as much as I did that night. Besides, I always knew that you would find me sooner or later. We belong together.”

“We do. I, I k-know we have way more to talk about but, who was the dude from the cementery?”

The insecurity in his voice is evident and Y/N can't help but smile. His emotions are complex, real, and nothing can make her happier than that.

“I’ll tell you all about my friend later, okay? For now... dance with me? I want to dance with the real deal.” He smiles and they both stand up, hugging each other as they slowly move through the studio as they did many times before life separated them.

The Luke in her arms is her Luke, the same one she has been waiting for so many years, finally back in her arms. And just as she thought when she lived, she will dance with his ghost for all eternity.

Thank you for reading✨✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @tessxblxckthorn

Goy tags: @eternalharry @xplrreylo

[jimlingss]

Black Waltz [1/2]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 [Finale]

➜ Words: 13.2k

➜ Genres: 70% Fluff, 30% Angst, Butler!AU

➜ Summary: When your parents pass away in an accident, a family secret is revealed. The only person you can trust and rely on is your personal butler, Kim Taehyung.

The caskets are small.   You’re not sure why but you always imagined that they’d be bigger. The undertaker already reassured you thrice that the bodies of your parents fit perfectly. Perhaps they were always that small.   “Poor girl.” Someone murmurs in the corner, not realizing that you can hear above the discordant sobs. “She’s already such a weak child. How will she handle this?”   “How do you suppose?” a man replies in a sharp mutter. “She’s just become one of the richest people in Trulia overnight. Look at this entire estate. All thanks to her father’s watch business.”   “Will you have more delicacy?” she bites back in a whisper. “A man and woman just died.”   You don’t bother looking at them. You don't cry either.    Not a single tear sheds down your cheeks as you look through your netted veil to the closed coffins belonging to your parents. Even the gardener is sobbing into his hat, but you don’t.    Your expression remains stoic.   A man approaches, dark hair and darker suit. He bows his head towards the caskets and then turns to you standing by. You recognize him the few times you saw him in passing. He’s your father’s worker, Yoongi. “My condolences, Miss Y/N.”   “Thank you.”   “Your father was a great man. It was a privilege to work under his guidance. I’m sorry this happened.”   You nod and he takes that you don’t want to extend the conversation and leaves you be.    It was an unfortunate accident. More specifically, a railroad accident. It claimed the lives of many and that also included your parents coming home from a trip to Germany.   “Eugene!” Suddenly, Uncle Seokjin throws himself over the casket. A few distraught folks try to pull him back, but he continues to howl, “How could you leave your only brother like this!”    Aunt Marie cries louder into her handkerchief.   It’s noisy.   In the midst of the ruckus, the corner of your eye catches an older man with brunette hair. The wrinkles crease around his eyes with his sorrowful expression and he takes off his top hat as he approaches. You watch as he places a rose in front of your mother’s casket and then he turns to leave without addressing you.   “Oh, Y/N!” Your attention is ripped away by your hysterically sobbing uncle grabbing your hands. “Poor Y/N!”   Someone takes him away before you get the chance to shove him off.   //   Everyone gathers in the dining room not even a full day after the funeral.   The wallpaper is dark, black trim that matches the hardwood. The long table is mahogany and there’s an unnecessary golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. You’ve always hated this room and its decorations, especially the heavy curtains that block out the sunlight.   “Y/N!” Your uncle draws out your name and smiles widely as he comes before you with open arms. He gives you a quick squeeze much to your dismay and then lets go. The middle-aged man searches your expression. “My favourite niece.”   “I’m your only niece.”   “Which makes you even more special to me.” His words are sweet. He shakes his head. “What did you ever do to deserve this?”   You wonder the same thing.   Aunt Marie clears her throat and Uncle Seokjin flounders. “Right, right, we should take our seats.”   Your eyes lift to your cousin who smiles at you, dressed in a navy frock coat with an ascot tie. “It’s been a while, Y/N. I didn’t think you’d notice but I was greeting guests at the funer—”   “I noticed.”   You cut Hoseok off mid-sentence with his mouth still open. Aunt Marie chastised him under her breath to sit down and at the same time, the family lawyer enters with his briefcase. He’s been working with your family before you were even born. You could feel his sincerity when he spoke at the memorial.   “Good evening everyone. Y/N.” Mr. Kim — Namjoon as your parents familiarly called him — nods at you in sympathetic acknowledgment and takes his place at the head of the table where your father once sat. He reaches for his briefcase and opens it up for a sealed envelope inside. “I never thought there would be a day like this. Most unfortunate indeed.”   “A heartbreaking tragedy,” Aunt Marie agrees.   “But no time like the present for us to fulfill their last wishes.” Mr. Kim slips out the crisp papers and then his eyes flicker up at you. You subtly motion to him that you’re ready for it to be read and he clears his throat.   Your relatives are sitting on the edge of the seats, hands clasped on the table in anticipation.   “I, Arden Eugene, resident in the City of Lennox, Country of Trulia, being of sound mind, declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking all prior wills and codicils made by me. I appoint my wife, Arden Hana, to inherit all my assets.”   The lawyer continues, “In the event where my wife is unable to inherit...all my assets, including the investments, savings and the estate, liquid and otherwise, I leave my daughter, Arden Y/N, in their entirety.”   Your aunt’s jaw ticks, your uncle has a face of disgust and your cousin’s jaw has dropped.   You’re not sure why they’re so offended. It’s not a surprise. This is what you expected.   That is until Mr. Kim adds the word— “temporarily.”   Your head turns. The lawyer’s mouth continues to move.   “Until the date and time when her half-sibling will be found.”    You’re not sure what happens first. The gasps echoing in your ears, Aunt Marie nearly falling off her seat in laughter, your uncle standing up from his spot, or your own heartbeat thundering in your ears as blood drains from your face. You feel ill, like you might throw up right on the table.   A half-sibling. Another child. There was another child all along.    “—to which ownership of all asserts will thereby be shifted onto them.”   “What is the meaning of this?!” Uncle Seokjin protests. “What child?!”   “I’m sorry, Mr. Arden. I only know as much as you do.” Mr. Kim’s eyes place on you before he resumes reading. “I give my daughter, Arden Y/N, a pocket watch.”   The amused snicker of your aunt is all too clear.   A small box is placed in front of you. It’s the size of your hand, a deep wine red. For a moment, you want to huck it on the floor, but with your breath held in your throat, you nudge the lid open. It’s a perfectly round contraption, the cover golden and perfectly polished, reflecting against the candlelight. You flip it open to find handles ticking away as seconds and minutes pass.   “To my brother, Seokjin, my sister, Marie, and her son, Hoseok, I wish them the very best in the rest of their lives.”   Aunt Marie scoffs. Uncle Seokjin collapses back onto his seat.   The will is finished being read and the paper is folded. The room is full of a tense silence as you stare at the watch. Mr. Kim clears his throat again. “As you are aware of the laws, Y/N, all assets are entitled to you temporarily. But as you have no husband to collect the inheritance, it makes things a bit more complicated. You may still live at this estate and continue the company, but you cannot alter it in any way. That includes liquidating, removing, expanding, or withdrawing. You do not have the jurisdiction to alter the company or any of the investments either.”   Everything is essentially frozen. They left you with nothing.   “Yes.” The corner of Aunt Marie’s lip curls and she sits back. “Even if you are twenty one, you need a husband to own land and wealth. Trulia’s quite old-fashioned, isn’t it?”   Trulia — a small country that bridges France and England together, cutting the English channel into half. You’ve lived here all your life, born and raised, and never hated it more.   “Y/N.” Hoseok breaks your train of thought and you look him in the eyes. Your expression remains impassive. “Did you know you had a sibling?”   You hate it all.   //   The bedroom is shrouded in darkness as you sit back in the armchair.    You’re loosely holding the cold, golden chain of the pocket watch, studying it as it swings back and forth. It’s like a clam, but without any engravings, designs or even ridges on the surface. It’s heavy, perfectly new and polished, the time precise. When both handles of the pocket watch come to twelve, the grandfather clock from downstairs chimes throughout the mansion.   Your other hand crumples into a fist and with a strangled cry in your throat, you hurl the pocket watch across the room with all your might. It clatters to the ground, ear-splitting.   A figure emerges from the shadows, leans down and picks it up with his white gloves.   “Madam, are you not well?”   “Don’t call me madam,” you snap at him.   Taehyung comes closer, his dark hair slicked back, dressed in the usual black tailcoat and trousers. His smile is tender. “You are the head of the household now.”   Arm propped up on the armrest, you press your hand to your forehead. “It makes me feel old.”   “Then I won’t, my lady. I apologize.” He places the pocket watch on the vanity table and comes to your side.   You look up at him, wondering if you look as bitter as you feel. “Even when they’re dead, they have to have the last laugh, Taehyung. They spared me nothing.” Your eyes sting painfully, the lump at the bottom of your throat aching. Anger has coloured your vision red. You’re so full of hate, but you wonder why most of all, it hurts. “I can’t believe my parents didn’t love me even after their death.”   Taehyung kneels and takes your hands that are crumpled hard enough that your nails sink into your skin. He earnestly gazes at you. “You have me. I’ll be with you until the end.”   He promises it rather recklessly. But he’s more than just your butler. More than just a worker in this house. He’s been a friend since childhood. The only one you can fully trust.   Taehyung’s expression softens even more and he reaches out. He hugs you, propping your chin on his shoulder, placing his arms around your back. “You can cry.”   You scoff. “You’re stepping over the line.”   “Then discipline me.”   You bite the inside of your cheek, vision becomes foggy as tears hang onto your lash line. “Why should I cry for those people? If...if anything, I should cry for my own circumstances.”   Taehyung smiles. “Cry then.”   For the first time, you let go. You sob into his shoulder, grasp his coat with tight fingers, allowing yourself to be at grief’s mercy. Wails choke out of your chest and the thick lump finally escapes your throat, leaving it raw and aching in a different way. The tears stain a path down from your welling eyes to your cheeks and then Taehyung’s shoulder like a chilling rainstorm.   It feels like minutes tick away until you’ve cried yourself to exhaustion.   By then, you’re so weak and you can barely open your swollen eyes. But Taehyung guides you to bed and pulls the covers. He tucks you in, making sure you’re warm. “Get some sleep.”   You nod and he extinguishes the flame in the oil lamp.    Sleep comes easier than you expect.   //   When dawn arrives, the light of the sun comes through the white curtains to cast against your eyes. You stir uncomfortably before your lids flutter open. The world is bleary in your fogged vision and your body is heavy. You don’t want to get up, but you have to.   “Good morning, mistress.” Taehyung enters, dressed in his black trousers and tailcoat with a white waistcoat underneath. His hair is pushed back in a windswept look. He sets down the golden tray balancing a water bowl and cloth. “Glad to see you’re already awake.”   “Couldn’t sleep more if I wanted to.” You round the bed and collect the water to wash your face before pressing the cloth to your skin.   Taehyung steps towards your wardrobe. “Would you like me to replace the curtains?”   “It’s fine. I don’t want to wear anything too restricting today.”   He hums. “Then will an aesthetic dress do? Green?”   “Is there a dark blue?”    Taehyung swiftly takes out a simple gown, cut loosely with a few frills at the neckline and a red, ribbon sash around the waist. The shade is a midnight blue and perfectly to your tastes as if he read your mind. It’s without any restrictive corset too. Heaven knows today is going to be suffocating enough, you don’t need to make it more difficult for yourself.   You stand in front of the three panel mirror folded into a nook and lift your arms up. Without batting a single lash or looking twice, Taehyung undresses you from the silk sleepwear and helps you into the camisole before draping the dress over your figure.   You sit at the vanity and he gently brushes out your hair. “Taehyung.”   “Yes, my lady?”   You look at him through the mirror. “Do you think I can do this?”   His eyes flicker up and he smiles. “Of course you can.”   “What if they don’t find me intimidating enough?”   “Then I’ll stand beside you and help you with that.”   What he says has you bursting out in laughter. You spin around in your seat, and Taehyung’s completely unsuspecting when you squeeze his cheeks together. His rounded eyes blink and his lips mimic a fish’s. It makes you grin. “You’re more of a puppy than a guard dog.”   But well, you suppose it’s not important what the truth is. The illusion is what matters most.   He pins half of your hair up and you barely powder your face before you’re leaving for the family meeting. On the way, you brace yourself, only temporarily interrupted by the gardener, Park Jimin, a man who’s been working on the estate for the past three years. He takes care of the garden well, better than your mother ever could. Her roses always withered. He, on the other hand, has quite the green thumb.   “Good morning, madam.” Jimin greets you merrily.   “Good morning, Jimin.” You slow in the entrance hall and Taehyung behind you does as well. “I hope you and the others are doing well. Thank you for still being here.”   The young male blushes. “We’re just doing our jobs, ma’am. You already gave us a whole week’s break which we’re more than thankful for. We just had to come back for the funeral to honour Mr. and Mrs. Arden. So there’s no need to worry about us.”   “I’m glad then.” Your smile eases. “Please continue, don’t let me stop you.”   He nods and goes on his way.   The moment Jimin’s gone, your expression hardens as you enter the main lounge area.   There your uncle, aunt, and cousin are seated around and you recognize your father’s worker, Yoongi as well. You’re not sure since when this house became a guest home where anyone can enter and loiter in as they please. You’ll have to have a word with Taehyung later.    “Y/N! My dear niece!” Uncle Seokjin’s loud and he stands from the armchair with an enormous smile that looks like it’s about to break his face. At that, everyone’s head swivels around.    Yoongi slowly rises from his seat as well.    But your uncle continues, “I hope you had a good sleep. I could barely get a wink thinking about your father and our happy days. Speaking of which, I was thinking about how empty this house will be with your parents gone. Isn’t it time for you to get married? You’ve been of age for a while. I happen to know this very kind young man from England. His name is Mark. I’d be happy to introduce—”   “Uncle Seokjin.” You stop him. “I’d rather not have you speak about my private affairs in front of a stranger.”   His pupils flicker to Yoongi and his mouth closes with a smile. “Right.”   You turn to said man and he nods his head in acknowledgment. “Would you like to have tea in the parlor?”   “No, this will only take a moment. I’m sure you’re already busy. My apologies for coming unannounced.”   “It’s not a problem. What is this about?”   “Your father’s company,” Yoongi says. “There is a client waiting for a shipment and since we closed we’ve been unable to finish the order. Would you like to refuse it?”   “No. It’s fine.” You hold in your sigh and press your finger against your forehead for a moment. Then, you come to a decision. “You may continue and run business as usual. You may act as the temporary lead, Min Yoongi.”   At the announcement, Hoseok rushes upwards with his jaw gone slack. “I could!” Heads turn towards him. “I-If you need me to! I could take over! T-Temporarily, of course!”   Your eyes narrow into your cousin, your expression cold. “There’s no need, Hoseok. I’m sure Mr. Min here will already have his hands full. There'll be no time to properly train you and no way you could take over.”   “But—!”   You ignore him to address your father’s right hand. You’re not sure if this is the right decision, but Yoongi comes across as sensible and rational. He doesn’t seem to have any malicious intention or ulterior motives either. At least your father trusted him, so you will too. “I’ll take a look at the finances and figure out the details soon enough of where the company will move forward from now on. But for now, I will entrust you to it. Please proceed as you normally would.”   Yoongi nods. “Thank you, Miss Y/N.”   You shift on your feet and look to your butler whose height towers your own. “Taehyung, can you please see Mr. Min out?”   He puts his gloved hand over his heart and bows. “Certainly.”   The two men leave the room while your cousin crosses his arms and drops back down into the sofa with a displeased face.   Aunt Marie’s eyes are narrowed in on you and she sighs, shaking her head. She comments, “You’re quite close with that butler of yours, Y/N. A bit too close, if you ask me.”   Your brow cocks. “You don’t have any authority in this household to make such comments, Aunt Marie.”   “I am merely looking out for you, Y/N,” she quips with an underlying sharpness to it. “You never know what rumours can get out and they can get quite nasty. It wouldn’t do you any good to be in a scandal. It’s best if you weren’t so close to the such lowly—”   “I choose who I want to affiliate myself with.” Your voice booms throughout the room, unknowing to how Taehyung’s already returned and that he’s standing just outside of the room. “Taehyung is my most trusted confidant. To insult my personal aid is to insult my choices and thereby, me. From now on, I will not take such things lightly.”   Aunt Marie shuffles back with a cough and the room’s swept into an uncomfortable silence.   Taehyung smiles to himself and notices a timid maid rolling a cart down the hall towards the room. He takes over and dismisses her to which she’s grateful for, knowing the room is tense. But Taehyung is unaffected as he enters with an exaggeratedly cordial expression. He places down a cake stand of pastries on the table, then the teacups.   “There, there. Let’s not get so upset in the morning.” Your uncle sits down and you find your place in front of the fireplace and the imposing family portrait above the mantle. In the meanwhile, Taehyung pours the tea with one hand in front of him. It’s earl grey, your favourite.   You sip it warmly while your expression remains stoic.   Uncle Seokjin clears his throat. “Your cousin, aunt and I have been discussing, Y/N—”   “And?”   He smiles. “We think it’s best if we...join forces.”   The tea is no longer pleasant on your palate, so you set it down on the porcelain saucer. “How so?”   “Well….”   “We don’t know who this half sibling of yours is, Y/N,” your aunt cuts to the chase. “Who knows who they could be or what they would want with us! It is simply outrageous that an outsider could come and collect everything that your parents have worked so hard for and take everything away. Your father clearly had some misunderstandings when he gave us nothing and you so little. I believe he must not have been well when he wrote that will. There must be some mistake.”   Uncle Seokjin nods and Hoseok finds the opportunity to jump in. “I have a friend who’s working in law. There must be ways we can challenge the will or at least find a way to claim back what should be rightfully ours!”   ‘Rightfully ours’.   You want to laugh. “So you want to sneak the money away?”   “You shouldn’t put it that way.” Your uncle laughs heartily. “It’s more like making a wrong a right!”   “Yes!” Hoseok enthusiastically nods. “We can’t just let someone else steal it, Y/N! What if tomorrow someone comes knocking on the door claiming to be your brother or sister, and they want to take everything away?”   Aunt Marie offers a smile. “It’s best if we work together on this matter.”    Taehyung steps behind you, shadowing your form as your relatives look at you expectedly. They have a point, but you’re not at all tempted by their most generous offer. “No.”   “Pardon?”   “I said no.” Your arms cross and you sit back. “Everything is already in my name, the estate, the investments, the company, albeit temporarily, but I’ll figure out what is to come on my own.”   Hoseok’s mouth draws open. Your uncle is unable to muster a rebuttal.    You scoff, rolling your eyes as if their very proposition is ridiculous. It’s too easy to play the villain — and it’s the only way you know how to protect yourself. “And why should I have to accept your help and have to split up my parents’ wealth when I can take it all for myself.”   “Why you!” Aunt Marie stands up, face reddened. “Ingrate!”   Her hand raises, arm extending back. But before she can slap you like she wants and knock your head to the side, Taehyung snatches her wrist. He’s faster than anyone can blink and he clutches her back, glare boring into her skin.   Her teeth grit and she rips back her hand to her chest.   You rise to your feet, eyes placed at the god awful antique cabinet on the other side of the room. “If that’s all everyone wants to say, then you can leave now. Thank you for coming to the funeral but from now on, none of you have permission to enter this estate until I announce otherwise.”   Your aunt scoffs and with her remaining pride, she stomps out. Hoseok’s brows are knitted together at a loss while your uncle is already trying to reason with you. But you leave through the doorway and allow Taehyung to take care of the rest.   //   The streets are full in the afternoon bustle — hooves clacking as horses pull the street car, ladies with parasols giggling as they cross, shouting coming from the tenement windows above, wheels of the carriages rolling along the dirt. It’s the symphony of the city. But he leaves it all behind for a short carriage ride away.   It’s a short uphill climb on foot that follows, but he swiftly gets to the magnificent mansion on a stretch of green behind black gates. It’s quaint here.   A girl in a maid ensemble scurries over and opens up the gates for him. “Right this way.”   The man is led up the path and he removes his top hat as he enters.   The manor is darker on the inside, the wallpaper a deep shade, black trim matching the hardwood. He knows every inch of this place is ridden with wealth, from the chandeliers, the ornate carpet underneath his feet to the glass cabinets full of antiques. It’s old money that will last for centuries.   But he doesn’t get to admire it for too long. A taller man with slicked back hair wearing a black tailcoat approaches. “If you’d follow me, sir.”   He nods and silently shadows the butler to the west wing. They twist down the corridor before turning a left to two large doors. The butler opens them and he hesitantly enters after.   There’s a figure behind the desk at the very back wall, an inked pen in her hand. He muses that the lady looks much too young to be residing so deep inside of this mansion surrounded in papers in the low lighting. She might be even younger than himself.   “Taehyung, stay.” You mutter out of the corner of your mouth before he can leave.   The doors shut and you finally look up as Taehyung takes his place beside you.   “You are Detective Jeon?”   He has brunette hair and brightened doe eyes, rather boyish looks overall. But you know better than to underestimate anyone simply based on appearances.   “Yes, ma’am. I am Jeon Jungkook from the Bennett Detective Agency.” He comes up to you with his briefcase in hand and gingerly places a business card on the desk. “I believe you contacted me for a private investigation.”   “Yes. I did.” You stand, going to the seating area and he follows suit. “Would you like tea?”   “No, ma’am. I’m fine, but thank you very much.”   You nod, noticing how Detective Jeon’s eyes flicker to Taehyung who comes to pour your cup.   He finally asks, “How may I be of service?”   You take a sip, savouring the flavour on your palate before placing the floral porcelain cup down. Your expression is indifferent as you sit back. “As you may have heard, my father and mother recently passed away in a railway accident.”   “I read it from the newspaper. My condolences. Your father was a very charitable man and did a lot for Trulia.”   “Yes, well, they left behind a will and revealed that I happen to have a half-sibling that is to inherit this estate.” It goes silent. A pin could drop in the room and echo. You inhale a breath and continue, “I want you to find this sibling of mine and tell me who they are, where they are, and what they’re doing. If you can do it, I’ll pay you a generous sum. However much you want. However long it takes.”   Detective Jeon nods. He doesn’t seem too surprised or curious. You suppose he must be used to this sort of thing in his line of work.   It was through your connections that you found him. He’s an upcoming private detective, but what he lacks in experience, he makes up in tenacity and foresight. He’s the best that Trulia has.   “Do you have any leads?”   You hum. It’s remarkable he asks that. You’ve been thinking about it — picking apart every single memory, all instances there could have been a hint, each time you could have been blinded to such a secret. “I don’t have any leads, but I have suspicions.”   The detective leans in closer, doe eyes placed on yours.   “I believe my sibling may be older than me and I believe contrary to any initial hunches, it may be my mother’s child.” Maybe your father knew and something had happened. Maybe he was ridden with guilt and that’s why he decided to give everything to your sibling.    “I remember, years ago, my mother came in one drunken night and she told me about her previous lover. She was supposed to marry him and they even ran away together, but my grandparents found them and she was forced to marry my father. It’s possible that she may have had a child with him before I was born. And it may be possible he came to the funeral.”   Detective Jeon takes out his notepad and begins scribbling. He bobs his head and you inhale a staggering breath as you continue to talk. You never thought you would have to divulge into your parents’ secrets after their death, that you would have to reveal all you know to a stranger. But you have to do what it takes if you want to find this person before your aunt and uncle do.   “I saw a man about your height. He looked old, about fifty or so. He put a rose at my mother’s casket and left without speaking to me. I have never seen him before in my life.”   “Did you see anything else about him?”   “Nothing that would be helpful. He had brown hair, but he was wearing black as everyone else was. He left before I could get to him.”   “Did your mother ever tell you anything else? Where they ran away to? What they were planning to do afterwards?”   “No. She only ever spoke to me about it on that one occasion.” Frankly, you’re not sure if you want to know, but you push past the thought. Detective Jeon notes it and something prickles in your mind. “If you can, I want you to also look into Park Jimin as well.”   His eyes lift off his paper.   “He’s a gardener that works at this estate,” you tell him. “He’s always been close to my mother.”   And unusually so. She never cared much for the help, but you’ve seen them walking together before and conversing on numerous occasions.   “I’ll see what I can do for you.” The detective smiles and once the conversation concludes, he takes his briefcase.    “Oh and Detective Jeon.” Your voice stops him on his way out and he turns. “It would be best if no one finds out about this, namely my relatives. They can be quite...nosy.”   He looks at you and smiles. “Understood.”   Taehyung sees him out and you take a moment to recline back into the armchair, gandering at the many bookcases lining the walls. You never thought you would one day sit in your father’s study like this. He was in here more often than any other room and somehow, it always seemed so big when you were a child.    Taehyung comes back within minutes and you can tell by the expression on his face that he has questions.   The corner of your mouth tugs and you languidly bat your hand. “Ask away.”   “What are you planning to do when you find them?”   “I’ll kill them, of course.”   You get onto your feet, slowly rounding the desk. There’s a glass paperweight on the surface and you pick it up to fiddle with it. There’s a floral print inside and it catches the light no matter what direction you turn it to. You gave this to your father for his birthday one year.   “I can’t return to being that naive person like you hope I will, Taehyung.”   You’re not children anymore. As much as you wish, you can’t go back to that simple time.   “I know.”   You twist on your heel, looking him straight into his eyes. “Then will you help me?”   He closes the distance in two strides and leans down to take your other hand. His plush lips kiss against your knuckles and he swears his loyalty yet again, “I’ll do anything for you, mistress.”   //   The next afternoon, you gather the entire estate’s servants together — the cooks, kitchen workers, maids and footmen. They look nervous at the sudden impromptu gathering, glancing at one another and quietly murmuring.   You clear your throat loudly and their attention is taken.   “As you all know, recently my father and mother, Mr. and Mrs. Arden, have passed away. And I have become the new head of household. You have done a well enough job to be here and your services are much appreciated. For those who came to give their condolences at the memorial, it is something I will not forget. However, your loyalties must belong to me, not to my late parents.”    There are worried glimpses exchanged and you begin to pace in front of them. “As I am now the lady of the Arden estate, I would like to begin anew.”   You can’t afford to feed so many mouths, considering all the wealth is frozen. You’ll be paying with what you personally have until you can find a solution with Mr. Kim. Not to mention, you’re not sure who can be trusted, who your uncle and aunt have already persuaded. The last thing you need is extra eyes and ears in this house.   “From now on, Taehyung will be the manager of this household. He will see to it that the household will still function. If you have any questions, ask him. If you have any concerns, then ask him. He will come to me with whatever he cannot solve.”   “Few of you will stay and I thank the rest for serving this house for so long. I will make sure your severance pay is generous enough until you will be able to find work elsewhere. If your name is called, you may stay.”   Taehyung, standing behind you, begins reading from the list. One of the three names called is none other than Jimin himself.   The gardener smiles out of relief, eyes crinkled into half-moons. “Thank you, madam.”   You nod and once it’s done, you leave for the study as Taehyung takes care of the rest. You don’t want to stay around to see disheartened expressions or hear pleas to stay. So you’re resigned to watch out of the upper windows instead.   You’ve allowed them a few days to leave, but some are already taking their exit with their belongings with them, tearfully looking back at the mansion. It’s difficult but it needs to be done.   “My lady…”   You hear Taehyung come from behind you. You shift away from the window. “You’ll help me look for new help?”   “Of course.”   “Do you think four maids and one cook will suffice?” You count on your fingers. There’s already Jimin taking care of the gardens, you kept one maid so he’ll only have to hire three, and there’s a trustworthy kitchen maid too. It’s not like you need that many hands to take care of the estate. “Or will you need more help?”   “That’ll be fine.” The edge of Taehyung’s mouth pulls. “I could technically do it all, if you’d like.”   “And have you fainting on me from exhaustion?” You notice lint on his coat tail, so you come up to him and gently dust off his shoulder. “I think not.”   Taehyung’s sly smile tugs. “Do you consider me delicate?”   “No. But I am,” you clarify, looking up at the man. “If you’re not here twenty four seven attending to me, then what would be the point of having you around?” You brush past him, mumbling, “Can’t have you in the kitchen when you’re supposed to be by my side.”   The man stifles back a laugh to himself, yet his grin is all too evident. “Yes, madam.”   You glare at him over your shoulder, but it reminds you, “Tell the new help not to call me madam. You know I don’t like it.”   He puts his hand over his heart and bows exaggeratedly. “Yes, young mistress.”   You scoff. The title is not that much different and he knows it too. He always knows how to be cheeky, but you let it go because he’s Taehyung. It’s not like you can ever be upset with him for long.    He’s already won before the game’s begun.   //   A few days later, there’s a knock at your door.   It’s unusual. Taehyung never knocks and your suspicions are confirmed when an unfamiliar girl is sticking her nose into the room. “Umm...pardon me.”   It’s an unfamiliar girl in a maid ensemble, a black dress with white trim and a ruffled apron with a headpiece. Her hair is dark and shiny, features sharp. You assume she must be one of the new ones. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find Butler Kim, I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Kim, the lawyer— I think, is in the parlor. He instructed me to tell you that he’s brought it.”   You nod and get up. But you stop for a second and come eye to eye with the girl. “What’s your name?”   “Jane.” She smiles to herself as if she’s happy you’ve made a note of it.   “If you could clear the teacup from the table.”   “Oh! Certainly!” She rushes over and you don’t linger.    True to what’s been told, the middle-aged lawyer is sitting in his chair and he staggers up as you come into the room. “It’s good to see you well, Y/N, and that you’ve taken charge of this estate so well.”   “Thank you.” You motion to the armchair. “Please, sit.”   “I brought your parent’s business expense reports as you asked.” Mr. Kim takes it from his briefcase and hands you the thick folder after settling down. “I didn’t think I would have it until I remembered there was a box in my office closet meant for this sort of thing. My office ended up branching out and opening a professional accounting firm a year ago, you see, so we no longer do bookkeeping.”   You flip open to find your father’s writing, then pages of Mr Kim’s. The reports match up with what he says. It stops a year ago. You might need to get into contact with Yoongi to find the more recent expense documents.   “Thank you for this. It will be very helpful to me.”   The lawyer nods. “Anytime, child. Now about what you talked to me about last time….”   “Yes, how is that coming along?”   He sharply inhales. “As I suspected, it will be difficult to challenge the will in court, Y/N. It hasn’t been done before and it may be costly. For now, my first submission is still in process, so we’ll have to see if we can even speak to a judge. I’ll let you know how that comes along.”   You’re grateful he’s still of help to you. He's older than your father is, but you suppose he must enjoy his line of work to not retire at this age. “Mr. Kim, if I may ask a question. Were...you aware that I had a sibling?”   The man smiles sadly. “Unfortunately, I was not. The will was sealed and I was simply entrusted to read it to you all. It took me by surprise as much as it did for you.”   If you didn’t know, the family lawyer wouldn’t either.    You wonder how many other well-kept secrets there are in your family.   That night, you look over the documents while burning the midnight oil. As usual Taehyung insists that you head to bed when the grandfather clock chimes past twelve, but after you tell him to go retire first, he stays silent beside you.    Taehyung’s too stubborn sometimes, but you don’t tell him his company is pleasant to have.   “Huh.”   “What’s the matter?”   “I didn’t know my father donated to St. Andale Orphanage.” You squint, reading the barely legible writing. You don’t remember that happening or it being posted in the newspaper.   “It must’ve been done anonymously,” Taehyung comments and you make a noise in agreeance. But it’s strange. Your father always liked to have his name on donations so that people would know and it would be written in the newspaper. It’s not like him to go quiet and he gave quite generously too.   “I’d like to go to the orphanage tomorrow.” You look up at Taehyung. “In the morning.”   “I’ll arrange that for you,” he says with a smile.   You close the books. “I’d like that man to join me as well. My father’s worker, Min Yoongi.”   At that, Taehyung’s brow quirks. “For?”   “He was close to my father, right? He might know something I don’t.”   //   The orphanage is a worn brick on the south side of the city in the poorer area, yet it somehow looks to be holding up well. It’s unlike the other buildings around that’s crumbling. You wonder if it’s your father’s doing that made this place half-decent.   You can hear the laughter of children in the plot of grass fenced in. You watch them at the distance while strolling the perimeter with Taehyung to your left and Yoongi to your right.   “It is quite cloudy today.”   “It looks like winter is coming soon.” Yoongi looks at you. “If you’re cold, we could go inside.”   “No, it’s quite alright. I don’t get to enjoy the cold weather often and it can be nice.” You turn with a small smile. “I might be like my father in that way.”   “Yes, I remember he told me he quite enjoyed the snow.” His eyes gloss over, reminiscent. “Your father was a very respectable man.”   “He was a good businessman and an even less attentive father,” you hum and feel Yoongi’s gaze on your profile, but he doesn’t get a chance to reply. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but did my father ever speak about his private life, Mr. Min?”   “Yoongi is fine. But no, not frequently at least. I only remember he once told me about flowers he was going to get for his wife before he headed home and I remember he spoke about you a few times.”   “Me?”   “Yes.” Yoongi offers a polite smile. “He told me that you were quite talented in your personal studies.”   You take a glance at him. There’s not a single trace on his expression that lets you know he’s lying or exaggerating, but you still find it hard to believe. “In his will, he gave me a pocket watch. I was hoping you’d know more about it. It’s gold and without any designs or engravings—”   “Gold?” Yoongi gives you a peculiar expression. “The company doesn’t make gold pocket watches.”   “Pardon?”   He explains, “We found that the profits weren’t worth the costs, so what’s used is silver, bronze, ceramic or even glass. In the third collection, there were some gold watches, but you said there weren’t any designs or engravings on it?”   “There’s nothing.”   The corner of the man's mouth pulls. “Mr. Arden must have personally handcrafted it for you then.”   Your brows furrow. You’re not sure how you feel upon hearing that, so you cast a glimpse to Taehyung who’s been quietly listening and he smiles at you. Yoongi clears his throat a moment after. “I wasn’t planning on telling you this, Miss Y/N, but considering it’s about your family, I think you have a right to know.”   Your head turns over in alarm. “What is it?”   “Your cousin, I believe, Hoseok. He’s been….showing up to the company often. He’s been wanting to book a meeting with me for a week now and he waits until I’m done working to try to speak to me. I suspect he wants to take over the business.”   You’re not surprised. “I’m receiving that kind of pressure in regards to the wealth and estate, Yoongi, and a hundred times worse. I think you have it in you to handle my overbearing cousin.”   Yoongi laughs from his chest as if he already figured you didn’t have any real solution. But based on your answer, it’s allowing him to do whatever he wants to that cousin of yours.    A few minutes pass before an older woman emerges to the field. “Children! Children! It’s time for lunch! Come along now!”   Another woman comes to invite you inside, so you follow after them into a room where they’re serving soup and loaves of bread. You watch children as old as fifteen to as young as three line up one after another. It’s both sad and heartwarming to see so many sparkling eyes in hunger-pane frames.    “Today’s food was given to us by Miss Arden and Mr. Min, can everyone give a big thank you?”   There’s a chorus of ‘thank you’s throughout the room and toothless grins from boys and girls.   When a woman struggles with carrying a box inside, Taehyung comes to help and then Yoongi. They’re supplies that you donated out of your own pocket, clothing and some blankets — it’s not much but still better than nothing.   “I want more!”   A pitched voice of a four year old boy in drab clothes knocks you out of your train of thought and you shift towards him. His friend adamantly shakes his head.   “No! ‘Member what Sister Emmy said? You only get one!”   You step forward, lips parting but before a single word can escape—   “Here you go.” An older girl with soft features and her hair pulled back in a frayed ribbon has spun around with an extended arm. Her loaf of bread is in hand. The boy blinks owlishly at her and she beams. “You can have it.”   “Thank you!” He takes it and the two boys run away.   “That was very kind of you,” you speak up and she turns around, startled that someone saw. You smile at her, lowering yourself to match her height. “You can have more bread. There should be enough for the next few days.”   Her eyes light up. “Really?”   You don’t like children much, but this girl seems to be intelligent and mature for her age. “What’s your name?”   “Rose, ma’am.” She bows her head awkwardly, rather well-mannered. “Thank you for the food.”   “I’m happy to help when I can. Can I ask how old you are?”   She counts on her fingers for a moment. “I believe twelve, ma’am, but I’m not sure.” As you frown, she quickly explains, “My mother died when I was young and I’ve never met my father, so I don’t know for certain how old I am….”   Her voice becomes quieter and quieter as it goes on and you realize she’s ashamed.   “That’s quite alright. I don’t have parents anymore either.” You muster a smile and the corner of her own mouth tugs. It’s pleasant to talk to someone who doesn’t know you, someone who doesn’t have any ulterior motives. “What do you like to do, Rose?”   “I don’t do much. But I like to cook! And churn butter. I also like collecting eggs and making milk.”   You hum. “How would you like to come back with me and work at the house?”   Her eyes open wide, irises practically glistening from the afternoon sunlight coming through the windows.   You’re normally not so impulsive, but you have a feeling she’s wasted here in the orphanage where she’ll have to work in a factory soon or get married by fifteen. Your mother always warned you to pick and choose the people around you carefully, and this girl seems trustworthy. Or at least, you can see capability.   Taehyung was even younger than she was when he entered the house for the first time. He must’ve been six or seven. His dad worked for the household and so did his dad’s dad — a whole lineage that made it inevitable that Taehyung would follow too.   Rose comes home with you three hours later.   You take it that this kind of affair customarily doesn’t happen so quickly judging by the head lady there being overwhelmed by the generous offer of taking the girl. But the process was most likely sped up considering your well-known status and Rose’s enthusiasm at the promise of a private room, food each day, and a high pay at the end of every month. She was more than happy and practically begging the woman she knew well to let her go. And the woman was happy too — even thanking you for giving her a home.   You’re not sure if it’s much of a home. But it’s yours.   “This is...enormous.” Rose gasps as her eyes lay upon the manor, lugging her small case of belongings by her side. “I-I mean, thank you, ma’am. I will work very hard!”   Your lips tickle into a small smile. “I’m glad.” The three of you enter and she gawks at the place. “Taehyung will show you where you’ll stay in the maid’s quarters and what will be expected of you. I’ll give you time to settle yourself, so don’t worry about anything for now.”   “Thank you, ma’am!”   “It’s right this way.” He guides and she tottles after him. You sigh softly with a smile as you watch the pair. He was amused when you told him that you wanted to take her home and he followed your instructions without much protest. Hopefully Taehyung will let her know that you’re not keen on being called ma’am or madam.   You’re about to retire to your room, but you’re stopped on your way by Jane.    She fiddles with her fingers nervously. “Miss, um, there’s, uh…”   “What is it?”   “There’s a guest in the parlor. He came about an hour or two ago and he insisted on staying until you came home.”   You hold in your sigh, wondering why it’s so hard to take a rest these days. “From now on, do not allow anyone inside the house when I am not here unless said otherwise.”   She flinches at your tone and dips her head. “Yes, my lady.”   You make your way to the room to find out who this uninvited guest is, and your brows furrowed in confusion when you see the backside of an unfamiliar man. He’s dressed in a sack coat with a matching waistcoat and black trousers. He must hear your footsteps since he turns around and instantly gets up, jaw gone slack.   “You must be Y/N,” he murmurs in awe. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”   The man comes to you and takes the back of your hand, placing a kiss against your knuckles. You eye him the entire time. “And you are…?”   “Oh, I apologize, I hadn’t realized I didn’t introduce myself.” He takes off his top hat and presses it to his chest. “I am Mark Carter. I believe your uncle may have spoken about me previously.”   You vaguely remember something about meeting his friend’s son, but you can’t quite pinpoint the details. Your expression remains stoic and unimpressed. “Is that so?”   “It’s an honour to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”   You guessed this would have happened, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. Being the head of the Arden Household and unmarried at that, it’s only natural that others will come after you.    It would be wise of you to consider it as well — the only way you can collect the temporary inheritance is through your husband. But as silly and naive as it might be, you want to marry for love and not convenience. And it’s the one thing you won’t allow yourself to give up on.   “Like what?”   “Pardon?”   “What have you heard about me?”   Mark clears his throat. “Well, I have heard that you are as intelligent as your father and as beautiful as your mother, no less than a red rose blossoming in the morning dew of spring. And I must say, those rumours do not do you justice, Miss Y/N. You far exceed any poetry that could possibly be waxed.”   The corner of your mouth curls in amusement. Admittedly, it’s nice to hear such bold and blatant compliments once in a while, even if they are exaggerated and likely crafted by your uncle. “While I am wholly flattered, Mr. Carter, is this what you came here to tell me?”   The man’s posture straightens. “I came to ask permission to court you.”   You nearly choke on your own spit. You’re taken aback at the man’s shamelessness, not sure if he’s dimwitted or simply brave. “Meaning?”   “I would like to send you letters every so often if you grant me permission and perhaps if you’d be inclined to take strolls with me.”   You’re not sure how to answer or what to say, but you’re starting to feel your impassive expression crumble. You muse it’s impressive your uncle found someone as overbearing and insistent as he is. “Can I ask why you want to send me letters? We’ve never met before.”   “Actually, we have,” he says and blinks. “At your father’s charity function two years ago.”   You scour your mind, but you can’t recall. Every charity function you attended, you just remember sneaking out food for Taehyung and sitting together outside looking at the stars.    Mark reads your expression as he realizes that you can’t remember and his face falls. “It hurts me that you can’t remember the encounter but no matter.” He suddenly takes your hands and you lean back to create more distance. “If you let me, Miss Y/N, I promise you that you will not be disappointed.”   “Mr. Carter—”   “I have not been able to forget you since that night.” You wonder why he didn’t look for you sooner then if he felt so passionately about an encounter you can’t even remember. But before you can ask, he comes closer to you, forcing you to take a step back. “If you give me a chance, I will grant your every wish.”   He’s crowding you, intruding in your space, larger than you are.   Your mouth parts, trying to utter out a word, but it’s not necessary. A looming shadow comes over Mark, draping him away from the light.    It’s Taehyung with a menacing expression — his lips drawn together, eyes practically burning holes. He grabs the back of the man’s coat collar and yanks him away from you, finally giving you space to breathe. “Please do not lay a hand on her ladyship, good sir.”   “W-Who’re you?!” Mark looks between you and Taehyung as if expecting you’ll tell him to leave him be. But you don’t move whatsoever.   Your butler offers the man a stiff smile that has your own mouth curling upwards. “Uninvited guests are no longer permitted in the Arden estate. The maid that you let in was inexperienced. A mistake like that will never happen again. So unfortunately, you will have to leave now until you receive a proper invitation.”   “Wait!”   You stifle back a laugh when Taehyung physically picks him up, nearly throwing him over his shoulder.   The man struggles and his cries echo throughout the manor as he’s taken away, “Put me down! Stop! You idiot! You’ll hear from my father about this! How dare you!”   Taehyung throws him out of the estate and you’re finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.   When he comes back, he dusts off his hands with a more pleased expression. “What would you like for dinner, mistress?”   //   The next time someone visits, it’s not uninvited.   “Who are you?” Jane has stopped in the middle of her path, duster in hand and scrutinizing the doe-eyed male in the foyer. His brow lifts at the girl, but before he can come up with an answer, Taehyung appears from the corridor.   “Right this way, sir.”   The man in his coat nods and walks away, yet the maid is still curious. Her eyes follow the stranger’s form and she murmurs to Taehyung, “But who is he?”   “Her lady’s affairs don’t affect you,” he coldly deadpans. “It would be better to attend to your duties than ask questions.”   “M-My apologies, Butler Kim.” Jane dips her head and turns around, but she still steals a glance over her shoulder with a pout and a huff escaping through her nose.   Taehyung comes inside the study to find you and Detective Jeon going through what he’s found.   “I looked into Park Jimin like you asked me to.”   “What did you find?”   Detective Jeon flips open copies of documents. “He was born and raised right here in Lennox, never stepped foot outside of Trulia. His parents are immigrants from the East, still married and living together on the West side of the city in a tenement. His father worked in a landscaping company and his brother, three years older than he is, is a wagon craftsman.”   You go through the papers and sigh after a moment. It doesn’t seem like he’s the one you’re looking for. Well, you suppose you’ve ruled out at least one possibility.   “He’s as boring as they get,” the detective says. “But I did find something...peculiar.”   “What is it?”   “That man you wanted me to search for, the one who came to the funeral, I think I might have found where he is.” Detective Jeon hands you another worn folder from his briefcase and you eagerly untie the string to look at the pages inside.   “An intern at your father’s company actually spoke to him briefly and I found the inn he was staying at in Lennox. Spoke to the lady there and went to the train station. I have a connection with someone who manages the books and they found a train ticket. There’s more to it, but I won’t bore you.”   His name is Arthur Kahl. There are small details of him written, how he’s in his fifties, where he lives and a drawing of him sits amongst the documents. Your brows furrow. This is him — there’s no doubt about it.   “He’s an artisan. A woodworker,” Detective Jeon tells you. “Lives in France, in a town called Colmar, but he grew up here in Lennox.”   Your eyes flicker up to Taehyung and then the detective. “Thank you for this.”   He offers a smile. “It’s all in a day's work.”    Shortly after, Detective Jeon is escorted out by the butler. His eyes are perceptive but his senses are even more keen. He takes a glance at the taller man. “Your name is Kim Taehyung, right?”   Taehyung’s brow quirks. “I think you already know the answer to that.”   Detective Jeon boyishly smiles. “Is it alright if I ask a question? It might be intrusive.”   “Then don’t ask.”   “But see, I’m much too curious.” His steps slow while the two men come outside where it’s harder to eavesdrop. They stop on the front path of the manor leading towards the gates. “It might be the reason why I ended up in this line of work. Can’t give up on something once it’s in my head. I just have to know.”    There’s a pause. Then, he doesn’t hesitate any longer. “Do you perhaps fancy Miss Y/N?”   Detective Jeon’s doe eyes sparkle in the sunlight.   It’s a subtlety that can only be noticed through careful observation.   But he’s seen it — through the way you allow the butler to stay in every private conversation divulging the secret details of your family. How he always knows what you want without you needing to speak a single word. You’re in rhythm with one another and always taking glances when the other person isn’t looking.    Jungkook has seen many things. But never a master and servant so close to each other.   “That is an intrusive question.” Taehyung’s expression remains impassive. “My devotion goes beyond such kinds of frivolous and fickle emotions.”   His mouth quirks. “Why don’t you do anything about it then?”   “It’s not my place. I merely grant her wishes and fulfill my necessary duties.”   “So you’re holding yourself back on purpose?”   “That’s enough questions.” Butler Kim continues walking. “You’re a detective. If you’re that curious, I’m sure you can figure it out.”   “You’re right.” Detective Jeon grins, led out the gates, yet he turns around one last time. “But if you’re willing to do anything for your mistress, would you kill for her?”   His expression hardens while Jungkook flashes another smile. It’s not the kind of question that is waiting for an answer, so the other merely walks off, down the path and away from the estate.    //   You’ve only ever left Trulia twice in your life.   Once on a family outing when you were five or six and another time for just a few days when you were accompanying your father on a business trip. You’ve never had the chance to see much outside of this country and it’s a wish that you never spoke to anyone before but Taehyung.   There was simply never a chance for you to go. And while you expected your next journey out of Trulia would be an adventure and perhaps seeing new sights, you suppose this is a good excuse as well.   “Can you please pack another dress? I don’t want to run out when I’m there.”   Rose enthusiastically nods and goes to your wardrobe to pick another gown. While Taehyung is the one who would ever pack your suitcases, you don’t want to rely on him too much. He was already preparing the rest of the things for the trip and Rose seemed more than happy to help.   “The blue one will be fine.”   She nods and folds it into the case as you look over the gloves. “How long will you be going for, miss?”   “A few days.” You look up at the twelve year old and the corner of your mouth tugs. “You’ll watch the house for me? I don’t want any roaches to crawl in while I’m away.”   Her head bobs up and down. “I’ll try my best, my lady.”   You smile, noticing Jane looking into the room. She realizes you’ve seen her and clears her throat. “Do you need any help, my lady?”   “No, I’m fine, thank you.”   It’s nerve-racking to leave the estate and Trulia. You trust that a few days won’t bring things into chaos, especially considering that you’ve kept your affairs discreet. But underlying the unsettlement is a buzz of excitement — that just for a short while, you can escape.    You feel that way even a day later when you’re at the train platform. And whatever you were afraid of is washed away with Taehyung by your side.   “Stand right here. I’ll only be a moment,” he tells you, holding your tickets to Colmar and you nod.   Your hand grips the suitcase as you overlook the bustle of people. You’ve never seen so many gathered in one place before, families and lovers parting ways, children rushing past, the conductor quickly pacing to the front of the platform. It’s dizzying to look at and overwhelming to be in.   You wonder if you look out of place in the mass of people. You chose to wear a white dress with a natural silhouette, a bustle pad underneath and a bonnet around your half pinned-up hair. It’s modest attire, but the threads are still expensive. The last thing you would want is to attract needless attention and that’s why you made Taehyung wear a normal white waistcoat and black frock coat with matching trousers than his usual stiff tailcoat. He looks rather nice in normal clothing anyhow.   As you think about Taehyung, you start to search the crowd.   The red and black painted train whistles, smoke coming from its chimney. It looks like it’s about to leave soon, but you’re not sure if you should go in or where you would even sit or put your luggage. It’s been so long since you’ve been on a train, you don’t know what to do.   The endless questions and uncertainty drains blood from your face and you start to panic.   Until Taehyung comes into sight.    “What took you so long.” You frown at him but he still has the audacity to smile.   “My apologies, I had to check if we were at the right platform. Let’s go.”   He takes your suitcase and offers his arm which you take.   Taehyung keeps you from being swallowed by the thick crowd and pushed back. His height looms over even most men and although his stature is lean, he remains steady. Once you’re at the doors, he puts down the cases and holds your hand to help you up the step and then he resumes by your side, cutting through the passenger cars.    The two of you pass the more luxurious sleeping cars and as you peek into the window of the car of commoners, wondering if that’s where you’re heading, he slides open the door of a compartment.   It’s a private booth with a large window and a ledge overtop for your suitcases.   “Here we are, my lady.”    Taehyung organizes your belongings as you sit down on the plush seat. A moment later, the train begins to move, wheels rolling against the rail and then it builds speed to chug along.   You watch houses flash past the window.   “What do you think?” he asks, sitting opposite of you.   “Is it supposed to be so nauseating?”    Your head is light and the world is dizzying from the fast motion of the train. Taehyung must see your weakened expression with the way his eyes widen in alarm. But you quickly lift your hand and try to reassure him, “It’s fine.”   It isn’t. And he knows it.   “We can get off the next station.”   “No!” You inhale a deep breath, calming yourself. “We have to go. We have to make it, Taehyung.”   You shut your eyes. There’s no way you can turn back now. “It’s probably because I haven’t been sleeping well.” Not when you’re up day and night taking care of what your parents left for you, even if it’s only temporarily. And not when you’re kept awake plagued by the secrets of the people who were supposed to be closest to you. “The herbs in my tea can only do so much.”   Suddenly, you feel the seat dip beside you and your eyes flutter open to see Taehyung. He reaches over and gently guides your head to lean on his shoulder. “Then sleep. Don’t think about anything else.”   The corner of your mouth curls. “You make it sound so easy.”   “I’ll watch over you.”   A noise is made at the back of your throat and you allow yourself to mold against Taehyung’s side, your head cradled against the slight slope of his broad shoulder. As you ease, your fingers slowly drag itself over until you graze the back of his hand. No words are needed. No explanations are necessary.    Taehyung flips his hand so that his palm faces upwards and his fingers entwine with yours.   Within a few minutes, your chest begins to rise and fall, soft breaths escaping your parted lips.   Taehyung’s eyes stray from the windows to watch you.   You’re cold and blunt, carrying yourself with an intimidating demeanour that either frightens others or causes them to despise you. But he can still see the traces of your childhood self, even if the recent weeks have forced you to harden. Taehyung knows that you’re still sentimental, that you’re affectionate, that you’re not as indifferent as you’d like to be.   He knows you’re still grieving for your parents.   The two of you grew up together after all.   Since young, he’s been told he’s talented for this line of work, but devotion was another matter. He was told that being a butler meant more than just serving — it meant protecting. And he swore his duty to your name that day you took the blame when he stole from the kitchen and you got slapped by your mother.    He can still remember your small frame standing in front of him. How your words didn’t waver.   Taehyung knew it then and he knows it now — there’s nothing more important than protecting you.   His mouth tugs and his eyes lift from your sleeping features, but something catches the edge of his vision. Taehyung looks up to the window of the compartment door and finds a man, blue eyes, blonde hair curled in front of his forehead. The stranger peers into the compartment and when he notices Taehyung’s gaze, he dips his bowler hat as if to shield himself.   Taehyung moves.   He cradles your head until you’re laying down fully on the seat and he quietly slides the door open.   “Excuse me.”   Taehyung moves past someone, eyes darted on the man who peeks over his shoulder and quickens his steps.   He had seen the man before — earlier on the platform and then again when he left you alone. Taehyung came back right in time. You hadn’t noticed the man behind you at all.    Taehyung quickens his steps, stalking after the man who looks over his shoulders once more. His strides hasten. He practically breaks out into a run. Taehyung chases after him as the train curves into a tunnel. The windows are blackened, darkness sweeping throughout the cart.   He hears staggering breaths pulling roughly out of lungs and at the same time, the train rushes out the tunnel. Light breaks through the windows again and the steel door at the end of the cart begins to close. Taehyung sees through the tiny gap where panicked eyes meet his own gaze.   Taehyung runs.    He throws open the door and the cold wind rips through his hair with the intensity of a storm. The wheels shriek against the rail. There’s only a tiny step before one would have to make the jump to the other cart’s door. In between are violently rattling metal links that connect the two carts.    “Hah!”    There’s a squeak of shoes behind him. Taehyung ducks. The door slams closed.   The man’s arm is extended midair, having missed Taehyung’s cheek and within a blink, Taehyung grabs his arm and twists it. The man shouts in agony, teeth gritted. “Why you!”   His fist swings and it manages to catch Taehyung’s jaw. He’s knocked back, tasting a surge of coppery blood.    Taehyung wheezes, but his lips curl into a smile. He launches himself forward as the man squares himself. An arm swings. Fist curled. Taehyung dodges.   Taehyung takes the opportunity, no longer on the defense, and he swiftly strikes.   The man stumbles back, air ripped out of his lungs, eye sure to bruise.   Taehyung steps forward, but the man grabs something within his coat.   “Step back!”   Taehyung’s met with the muzzle of a revolver and puts his hands up, calming his breath.   The man snorts with a sly smirk. “Yeah that’s right. You’re just a dog.”   But then Taehyung's left hand clutches the man’s wrist and he contorts it at an angle, knee coming up to slam into the man’s stomach. Instantly, the man keens and wheezes.   He cries out as the revolver crashes onto the links connecting the carts and falls beneath to the rails.   Taehyung grabs the man’s collar and holds him backwards, nearly off the train. The man’s eyes become rounded in fear. There’s a storm of verdant in the background, fields and trees darting past.   “Who are you?!”   “Let go of me! I...I swear, I didn’t want to do this!”   “What do you want with her?” Taehyung demands, shaking the man whose head nearly touches the steel rails. The man’s fist curls on Taehyung’s so he doesn’t fall. “Answer the question!”   The shout is torn from Taehyung’s throat, his face crumpled into unadulterated anger, jaw clenched.   “I-It was her uncle!” the man quickly spits out in fear of his life. “Seokjin! He hired me! He wanted me to kill her!”   “So you were planning on putting a bullet through her head?!”   “I-I just needed the money! I’m sorry! Please, please,” the man pleads. “You don’t have to do this. W-What has that girl ever done for you? You’re just her guard dog!”   Taehyung has a deadpan expression, eyes dim. He begins to release his hold on the man who audibly sighs of relief. “That’s right.”    But it’s too soon.   “Don’t you know dogs are one of the most loyal animals?” Taehyung grabs the man again as he stands and throws him off the train into the soft meadow. “Woof.”   The man’s scream echoes. Taehyung dusts off his hand.   He comes back to the compartment to where you’re still sleeping and resumes his spot with your head in his lap, finding a warm blanket to drape over you.    Six hours later, you wake up, rubbing your eyes. He smiles and tucks a loose strand of hair in front of your face behind your ear. But your sleepy daze shatters when you see his split lip.   Almost immediately, you’re leaning over to Taehyung, grazing the wound with your thumb.   He sharply inhales.   “What happened?” you demand, worry written all over your face.   It hurts to smile, but can’t resist it. He should never admit it — he likes it when your attention is solely on him. “I tripped.”   You look at him incredulously. “Taehyung.”   “I did.” He doesn’t give up the excuse no matter how much you prod and pry.    The train arrives in the town of Colmar shortly after.   It’s a quiet place with a certain dryness to the air in spite of the river running through the town and underneath the bridges. The homes are tightly knitted next to one another. It’s a cozy kind of atmosphere. For a moment, you can imagine your mother having spent her life in this place and you’re not certain how to feel.   You decide to stay in an inn near the square, dropping off your suitcases in your given room.   “We should find him, shouldn’t we?”   You turn from the window to Taehyung with an unreadable expression.   “We don’t have to,” he says and it’s all too tempting. You want to forget that you’re here looking for your mother’s old lover, that you’re searching for your sibling. You wish you can pretend that this is merely a trip to enjoy with Taehyung in a place far away from Lennox.   But even if you were to dream such a thing, the truth would not stop plaguing your mind.   You muster the strength to shake your head. “We can enjoy ourselves after. There’s no point in putting it off.”   “He’s an artisan. A woodworker.”   The detective’s words ring inside your head.   “Lives in France, in a town called Colmar.”   It should be difficult to find the man — that way you have a legitimate excuse to put this off. You wouldn’t have to confront your parents’ secrets. Or meet a brother or sister you never wanted.   “But he grew up here in Lennox.”   Yet this town is small and there is only one known woodworker. If such a thing as fate or destiny exists, then it never stops being cruel to you.   The bell rings as the door of the shop opens.   “Hello there! How can I help you?”   There’s an older man behind the counter busy at his shelf, brunette hair and features tender, wrinkles creased around his eyes to mark each smile he’s collected over the years.   You come towards him with Taehyung by your side. “You were at my mother’s funeral.”   At your murmur, the man turns around wide-eyed. Arthur Kahl, the man your mother loved, who she wanted to marry and be happy with. The father of your sibling.   “You’re Hana’s daughter….” His mouth draws open. “Wh-what are you doing here?”   “I came to see you. I think you may have answers to my questions.”   “I-...I don’t know if I do, but please, sit.” He hobbles to the front of his shop, turning the sign over to not receive any more customers and the both of you sit on wobbly chairs. He knows you came this far, that you searched for him. There’s no other way you could have found him. “I’m sorry I never spoke to you at the funeral. I thought since we didn’t know each other, there was no point in bringing back old memories.”   “Is it true then?” You look at him carefully. “About my mother and you running away together…”   “That was a very long time ago.”   “Then why did you come to see my mother?”   “It was a long time ago, but I still wanted to pay my respects. Your mother...was a wonderful woman and treated me kindly. I’m glad she ended up having a good life and a happy family.”   The corner of your mouth twitches.   He continues, “While I never personally met your father, he seems like a very respectable man and a good husband. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”   The words sit uncomfortably in you. Your parents always seemed to treat each other with mutual respect and trust. It was never a passionate affair like pairs you’ve met, but rather a quiet relationship of sitting alongside one another. You never would have guessed your mother had someone else.   But you don’t want to know anymore about your mother’s history.   “I received my parent’s will a day after their burial.” You inhale a breath, bracing yourself. “And it promised my sibling the estate and the company. I don’t want to harm them. I want to fulfill my parents’ last wishes. So please, allow me to meet my sibling.”   Your eyes meet his earnestly. The man stares back at you, his brows knitting together.   “My apologies, but I’m afraid there’s a misunderstanding. I don't know who your sibling is.”   The clock on his shelf ticks loudly.   “Your mother and I never consummated our relationship.”   //   The night sets in, matches hissing into a flame and thrown into the wood in the fireplace until it awakens and paints the room in a warm orange hue. The quietness is deafening outside of the crackle and pop of the fire.   You haven’t eaten. You don’t want to. You don’t think you could stomach it.   “My apologies.”   You’re seated at the rounded table in the chair, motionless. You should’ve never come. You should have just stayed in the estate instead of trying to dig around in the secrets of your family, into the reasons why nothing was left for you, why they didn’t love you even after death.   “But I’m afraid there’s a misunderstanding.”   You came here for nothing.   “I don't know who your sibling is.”   Your efforts were worthless.   “Your mother and I never consummated the relationship.”   There’s an ear-splitting crash that rings the four walls.    Taehyung opens the door, eyes darting to you. You’re hyperventilating, clutching the handle of your suitcase, all your belongings fallen on the ground beside the wall. You toss the case aside with a frustrated cry.   He calmly shuts the door before anyone in the inn can pry and closes the distance in two strides.   “It’s okay.” He opens his arms and he engulfs your quivering frame.   You grasp onto him, your hands twisting into his white shirt. “I-I don’t know what to do, Taehyung. I...I really thought I had it. I was preparing myself—”   You were preparing yourself to meet your sibling. To confront it all. For once, you were ready.   The frustration cripples you blind and angers you.    How much longer will you be left in the dark? How much longer do you have to look like the fool, a child fumbling in her parent’s history searching for the truth? Why did they do this to you?    Why?   “You can cry,” Taehyung murmurs.   And tears finally slip from your eyes to stain his shoulder.    If it wasn’t for him, if he wasn’t here, you might have lost your mind by now.

[rodeoxqueen]

Hi! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do hc’s of like the dmc boys as Mafia bosses and what would it be like dating them??? Thank you! 🙏🏼

Howdy,

Only did Dante and Vergil’s. I don’t know too much about them mafia leaders, got enough work lassoing them wanted outlaws on my side of town. 

If you want a good reference of mafia Dante and Vergil, I’d recommend you check out @cssmuse ‘s drawings of Dante and Vergil wearing suits. 

-Rodeo 

Dante 

Before meeting Dante, you meet Tony Redgrave first. A charming man with a family business, a cozy Italian restaurant in the city. 

However, it’s a cover for all the money-making crimes he commits heavy-handedly.

He’s a natural at reading people. He’s a walking lie detector. Good luck trying to f*ck him over a deal when making business with him in the underground. 

Dante is like Reggie Kray, the twin mobster to Ronnie Kray who were notorious in England. 

He decides to court you, flirting heavy-handedly and taking you on nice dates. He never lets you touch the check. 

While next to you at a nice bar, he smiles off-sightedly at the in-disguise private investigator sitting a few tables away. 

You get expensive flowers delivered to you every day, richly colored and freshly imported from Denmark. 

Dante is a regular around bars and other dives, but he hasn’t brought another person with him ever. Not since you. You quickly become the talk of the underground, his love interest with starry eyes and clean hands. 

Dante is a dangerous and careless man. He doesn’t leave evidence around because he’s an idiot, he does it because he knows no one can do anything to him anyway. 

This man doesn’t need backup, but his enemies do. He likes to do the dirty work more than you think. With Ebony and Ivory, he walks into confrontation with his Beowulf brass knuckles on his hands. 

He tries so hard to keep his real identity and reputation away from you until eventually, it catches up to him. He needs to tell you. 

“Tony Redgrave died decades ago,” Dante says. The infamous Dante Sparda, the Twin Terror, stares at you with his true self revealed. 

“But Dante Sparda has been using his name for the last forty-odd years.”

He only tells you once he knows you won’t leave in disgust, but he still has that crawling thought that you will. When you truly don’t, it’s a breath of relief.  

He’s a stubborn man and he’s raised from violence. He’ll break a man’s face in and hold you tenderly with the same hands. 

Dante always has an arm around you or a hand on the small of your back. He likes to show you off, dressed in his favorite red shades and shining rings. 

He never wants you to get into his business, he would much rather have you “sit there and look nice” rather than participate in crime with him. It’s easier for him if you don’t get that involved. 

Dante would get thrown into the slammer sometimes for a petty charge. He gets offered a phone call and he will never ever spend it well. 

“You got one phone call, inmate,” Dante smirks at the guard, dialing a familiar number. 

“Devil May Cry?” 

“Is your refrigerator running?” 

“Goddamit Dante, are you in jail again?” 

“You know it, nephew.” 

“(Y/N) is going to tear you a new one.” 

“Oh, I know. Bail me out?” 

“FINE.” 

He loves you a lot, he never wants to see you behind bars because you loved him and got looped into his crimes. Even though you’re rather entwined in a relationship with him, there are times when he pulls away and you have to return him to you. 

“I’m not a good man. You know that.” 

“I’m not a good person for sticking around with you. But maybe that’s why we should be together. If we’re both going to Hell, I’m going down with you.” Dante’s hands wrap around your frame and he hugs your tightly. 

All empires fall. When Dante takes that plight to damnation, he’s got your blessing- lipstick kisses all along his jugular. 

Vergil 

He’s the Ronnie Kray To Dante’s Reggie Kray; the colder twin with little trust for others. 

Unlike Dante, Vergil treads quietly up the underworld’s ranks. He’s extremely difficult to approach and impossible to reason with. He will not let you get the better end of the deal without being at the sharper side of his sword. 

Vergil wears the same styled suit all the time. It isn’t until he undresses when you discover he’s covered in tattoos. 

He doesn’t want to see you killed or used against him as a pawn. He’s incredibly overprotective and even the slightest chance of someone endangering you ends with them being dead in the gutter.

Vergil is busy all the time but every night, he sheds his sins to be with you. He’ll be gone in the early morning, a feeling of cold lips grazing your cheek before he leaves. 

Vergil works with Dante in their now-shared crime syndicate, although he is not one for fake identities. He’d much rather be known to the criminal underbelly only. Finding him and falling for him is a very very rare situation. 

While people beg for their lives, he sits in his seat with his hand resting on his face, a silver band on his ring finger. Lately, anyone who dares to put their hands on you sees that new shining ring before they die, Vergil’s cold eyes watching their end. 

Vergil goes shopping with you, once in a blue moon, to make you feel better. Someone made you upset and he beat them to an inch of their life before taking you to the finest establishments. He thinks you do not know what he has done, but the single fleck of red on his collar tells you enough. 

He’s so stuck in his pursuit of power and sometimes it scares him that he’s attached to you. It distracts him and he hates distractions. He says this yet a single glance of you diverges his mind away from his throne, and he indulges upon it heavily. 

Despite his avoidance of flashy appearances, he makes sure you are adorned with the finest clothes. He takes good care of you, and you take good care of him. He dislikes social outings but takes you with him when his brother forces him. You are his star jewel, the blue dragon clutching you gently between his claws. With this dangerous man, the crowd parts for you. 

Dante and him butt heads often. Dante wants alliances but Vergil wants to monopolize. Debates end with bloody noses and disheveled suits as the twin terrors fight anytime and anywhere. 

“Goodness, you should stop them.” A patron asks of you as Dante and Vergil throw gut punches and right hooks. You sip a drink. 

“It’s just business.” 

Dates are sparse but lavish. A simple dinner with the two of you, where you discuss everything but what Vergil does every day. With you, he’s just a dry-humored man who likes classical music and poetry. 

Vergil isn’t like his brother, who deals with law enforcement all the time. Vergil has to deal with rival mafia leaders trying to one-up his empire. 

“All things end. This won’t be forever, this life.” 

“I’ll spend forever with you anyways.” 

“You’d be a fool.” 

“I’m your fool.” 

“And I you.” 

[pascalpanic]

Alpha Beta Charlie- A Frankie Morales Story

Summary: Frankie is a lonely man with a big heart. His life changes when a new girl comes into his life.

W/C: 4.1k

Warnings: This one is a little heavy. Lots of language, talk of poor mental health (Frankie has depression and anxiety), Frankie’s recovering from a coke addiction, alcohol is prevalent here, harm to animals, lots of talk of blood and injuries.

A/N: This story is different than I normally write. There’s no reader in the story, this is just a story about Frankie Morales and a moment in his life. Please note that this is darker as it centers around an injured animal. Be warned of that. P.S. some of my friends might see ur names in here :) thank u to all of my friends who helped me pick Charlie’s name, and to @ilikechocolatemilkh who helped me create this whole story!

Frankie Morales is a kindhearted man. Anyone who meets him knows it instantly. He’s got a wonderful laugh that’s warm and inviting, and it’s often on display to anyone who chats with him for more than a few seconds. He’s caring, it’s clear, with big brown eyes that radiate compassion. 

His friends would describe him more as an idiot. Frankie, who they call Catfish from their days in the military, insists that they’re the idiots. He’s the voice of reason in their group, making the rational decisions and de-escalating fights within their group. 

That’s not to say Frankie is entirely sunshine and rainbows. He’s now several months sober from a long and grueling addiction to cocaine. It ruined him: it took away his pilot’s license, his everything in life. Flying helicopters was Frankie’s passion, but he’s recovering. He’s on the right track.

He had a girlfriend, who became his fiancée, and left him not long after he returned home from a dangerous mission in South America. It didn’t matter anyway; her child, who Frankie had dedicated all of his heart to before the birth, was revealed to be another man’s. As much as she resented him for taking the mission, he resented her for cheating and lying and holding the information back.

So now Frankie lives on his own. He resides out in a more rural town, not far from where Benny has his weekly fights and Will (also known as Ironhead) works with young military recruits. It’s been a couple of months, and it’s hard to be alone. Santiago pops into town once or twice a month, and it’s always the highlight of Frankie’s very being. His best friend brings light and laughter into his life. When he leaves again, Frankie’s small home feels massive and quiet.

He plays lots of CDs. He has bluetooth speakers all around the home and blasts his favorite songs. He’s learned how to cook and clean and has even learned how to bake a decent, basic version of a nice loaf of bread. He works as a mechanic at a shop in his small town’s center, working the odd hours that no one else wants, the hours where others want to be home with their families.

He’d considered different options to make the house more home-like, more welcoming. He tried his hand at gardening, only to find that he had the opposite of a green thumb. He painted the walls a warmer color, then painted them again. He was currently considering changing the colors for the third time. He’d burn candles that he thought smelled nice. He’d hung up a few photos of him and his friends, or his family. Nothing really worked.

A typical night for Frankie held one of two patterns:

-Night A: Frankie gets home from the shop at about 7:30, hands covered in grease and smelling of burnt motor oil. He gets in the shower and cleans up, then either ends up at Benny’s arena to cheer him on, or at the bar with both Miller brothers.

-Night B: Frankie gets home at the same time. He showers to clean himself, simply because he hates leaving smudges over his home. He cooks a nice dinner or orders takeout. He eats it on the couch and watches a new Netflix series. He gets sad and feels alone and drinks a beer, then a few more, to drown the sensation. He goes to bed early and calls into the shop to see if any of the morning shift workers want to go home early, because he can come in an hour or two before his shift. He claims it’s for the overtime pay. It’s really to avoid the loneliness.

Frankie likes patterns. He likes routine. It’s soothing. Maybe it’s a remnant of his military days, where not a second would pass without having a title affixed to the very second he was living in. Predictability made the hurt easier.

Tonight was an A Night. Frankie and the Miller brothers sat at the bar of McCreary’s and talked about everything and nothing at once. Will talked about the new girl he was seeing. Benny made lewd comments. Frankie smacked his arm and ordered another round for the other two, then nursed one beer for the entire night.

Winters were the worst for Catfish. He lived in the South, where snow was uncommon, but the dreary February weather stole whatever energy he could muster up and sent it up to join the gray masses that hung in the sky, yet never shed their raindrops. It gets dark early, another thing Frankie hates. It reminds him of the look on Tom’s face when he died. Of the way his bachelor home never made sounds unless he created them. Of the way the craving for one more hit of that devious white powder felt, the way it scrambled his brain until he thought it was the only thing that could take it away. 

This A Night, which also happened to be an especially chilly Tuesday, Frankie drove home from the bar at 12:21. The backroads that lead from the suburbs out to the rolling hills are dark, with a rare streetlight or two illuminating a fork in the road that led to a house. The radio droned on, some old Waylon Jennings song that was threatening to send Frankie into a fit of rage and smash a fist into his dashboard. He turned off the radio instead.

Another car drove the opposite way, far in the distance. He could see the lights approaching, then dim slightly. Frankie turned off his brights, instead allowing the road to be illuminated just by his front headlights. He turns up the heat in his truck as a shiver runs down his spine.

Something is running across the road. Frankie can see it now. It’s far from him, but visible in the other car’s light. He slams on his brakes, his body jerking forward.

The other car doesn’t slow.

He slams his horn several times, for whatever is in the road and the other driver.

The thing doesn’t move.

The car doesn’t slow.

The car and the creature- oh fuck, it’s an animal- collide.

Everything that happens next is too quick. The car stops for a moment. Frankie whips the truck into park and turns on his hazards.

The other car stops for a moment. Frankie can just make out a silhouette inside. He gets out of his truck, eyes wide and frantic. He runs to the animal’s side.

The car drives off.

Dust swirls across the road as the car’s tail lights fade into the distance. Leaving just Frankie and his truck and the mangled mess of fur and blood.

“Fucker!” Frankie screams after the car. “You fuckin’ bastard! You didn’t even check, you motherfucker!”

He gets closer and realizes it’s a dog. Its fur is white and brown and so painstakingly red with its own blood, and it whimpers and cries and Frankie realizes the poor fucking thing is still alive. Whether it’s his caretaking or his military instincts that kick in, Frankie isn’t sure, but before he knows it he’s ripping off his jacket and picking up the poor poor baby, oh you little angel, he coos to it, wrapping it in the denim and setting it in his passenger seat.

It’s still whimpering and crying, and Frankie gets in the driver’s seat and grabs his phone. “Nearest 24-hour pet hospital,” he shouts into it, hands shaking. He doesn’t realize either reaction is happening. It gets the words wrong. “No, fuck,” he groans, shifting the truck into drive and whipping a U-turn. He types in the words as he starts to speed back in the direction of the town. He knows he shouldn’t text and drive and normally he doesn’t, but he’s a fucking former military helicopter pilot, he rationalizes with himself, he can handle this. He finds the directions and types them in and tears start dripping from his eyes.

“Hang in there, buddy, hey,” he says and rubs the poor dog’s big ears as they drive. “It’s gonna be 30 minutes. Think you can hang on for me?” he asks it, not expecting a response. He wants to check the dog’s sex but now is certainly not the time, not while he’s doing 85 in a 60 zone and the dog’s blood is seeping into his denim jacket and his passenger seat.

The tears are flowing freely from his eyes now, his heart breaking. He can feel the animal’s shallow breaths as he drives, and he sobs to himself. “Hang on, buddy. It’s gonna be okay, I gotcha. I’m Frankie,” he introduces himself to the dog, “and I’m gonna take real good care of you. You’re gonna be alright and we’re gonna get you fixed up and back to your owners.”

The drive takes 24 minutes when Frankie is flying down the backroads. Fuck if a cop sees him. Fuck blowing a tire. That can be cared for later, when there’s not a dying creature next to him. A steady murmur of ‘it’s okay’ spills from Frankie’s lips. He’s not sure if he’s saying it to the dog or himself. One hand firmly grips the steering wheel and the other never leaves the animal’s body. He comforts the poor creature, murmuring more reassurances the closer they get. 

“Please hang in there for me, cariño,” Frankie whimpers, chewing his bleeding lip. “I gotcha. It’s all gonna be alright, bud.”

When he sees the hospital, he drives a little faster. He pulls into the emergency room area and parks in front of the door, turning on his hazards and running inside. There are a few veterinary nurses inside and they greet him, but their looks turn to fear when they see the denim-wrapped animal. “Please, please, Idon’tknowthisisn’tmydogitwasahitandrunandIpickeditup-”

“It’s alright, sir, come with us. Please breathe and tell us again,” a kind woman tells him with a hand on his arm, rushing him and the dog back. Frankie calms down after a moment and explains what happened. “It’s not my dog, I don’t know whose dog this is, you gotta check it for a chip-” he rambles.

“It’s alright, sir,” the nurse tells him kindly and takes the dog from his arms. Frankie clutches after it and a new woman pushes his arms down. “We’re going to take it back and operate on it. Would you please wait here for us? We’ll come give you updates as we get them,” she tells him, gesturing to the waiting room. He nods. “And is this your dog’s first time here?” She asks.

The tears come back, choking his throat as water falls steadily from his eyes. “It’s not even my fuckin’ dog, man,” he whimpers, worrying his lip between his teeth again.

The woman is still kind. “I see. Please, sit, Mr….”

“Morales,” he manages out.

She nods. “Mr. Morales. I understand you’re worried. Please just wait in here for us and we’ll bring you information when we have it.” He nods softly, grabbing a tissue from the front desk. He wipes his eyes and nose. “My truck is parked right outside, it’s in the way, I’ll go park it somewhere else,” he tells her.

“That’s perfectly fine, sir. You can even leave and come back if you’d like.” He shakes his head. “I’ll be right back,” he tells her and walk-jogs outside, getting in his car and bringing it around to park.

-

Frankie enters the emergency room again and sits in a chair. He worries and worries for hours, texting his group chat with the Millers and Santiago. He gives them a play-by-play, but only Santiago responds. He sits awake for another hour, nervously wringing his ball cap.

The dog must be alive, or at least be able to save, he rationalizes with himself. After a while, the worry fades and he falls asleep. Two hours later, no other patients around to disrupt him, he’s woken by the nurse who took the dog back. “Mr. Morales?” She calls out gently.

He jumps awake. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me.” He sits up from his slumped state, readjusting the cap from where it had been resting over his eyes.

The nurse smiles softly at him and sits in a chair across the waiting room from him. “The dog is safe now. We had to amputate her front left leg, and she had a lot of stitches, but she’s stable and looks like she’ll do well.” He lets out a sigh and her smile becomes more genuine. “You told us she isn’t yours?”

She. The dog is a girl. Of course she is, Frankie smiles a little. The smile falls as he remembers the fact again. “No, no. It was a hit and run. I saw it happen, the other guy took off, it wasn’t me who hit her, I’m-”

“Mr. Morales.”

“Right. No, she’s not mine.”

The nurse nods and writes that down. “Well, we scanned her several times. She has no chip, no identifiers at all. Our options now are to send her to some rescue or kennel of some sort, or you can take her home with you.”

His heart breaks at the image of the sweet dog in the front seat of his car going somewhere without daily love and affection. “She’ll come with me,” he answers before he can rationally think about it.

“Wonderful,” she nods, marking that down as well. “She’s looped up now on some drugs. We’ll let her sleep them off for a bit and then she’s all yours. We do have some procedures we’ll need you to follow, for caring for the wound and such. But after that, it should be all good. You’re free to head out now. We can call you when she wakes up.”

Frankie nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be great.” He looks down at his watch and notices how early in the morning it is. “Thanks,” he tells her with a genuine smile, taking off his cap and running his hands through his hair before replacing it.

- From that moment on, Frankie was enamored with the dog. He called in from work when the shop opened bright and early at 6:00 A.M. 

“Hey Carol. It’s Morales.”

“You can stop asking if you can come in early, Frank. Just do it,” the woman chuckles on the other line. A loud slurp is audible- it’s the coffee she’s always drinking, the dark sludgy shit that she brews in the break room that Frankie can’t stand but she absolutely adores.

“No, uh. Actually, I was calling in to see if someone else could cover for me today.” He explains the whole story to her, wringing his cap between his hands. “So. I was kind of hoping I could take the day to look for the dog’s owners and care for her.”

There’s a beat of silence over the phone. “Of course, Frankie,” the older woman says kindly. “You got a real big heart, kid. Real big. That’s awful kind.”

He smiles a little. “Just doing what I can. Thanks, Carol.”

“Keep me posted, Catfish.” The woman hangs up.

Frankie’s in more comfortable clothes now. He didn’t sleep at all once he got home, waiting for the hospital’s call. He distracts himself, cooking a breakfast he only picks at, watching his new series halfheartedly on the couch.

The animal hospital calls him again at 7:30. He gets off the couch immediately and into the truck. There’s a bit of blood on the passenger seat, from where the dog wasn’t immediately covered by his jacket. It’s not a worry, though, he thinks to himself. He’ll get some stain remover and maybe a new and nicer jacket. 

When he arrives, they usher him back to a check-up room. The dog is lying down but she wags her tail at Frankie, looking up at him with big brown eyes that could rival his own. “Hey, sweet thing,” he calls softly, and the dog stands and walks over to him. It’s pained, that much is clear, but she’s already adjusting to walking with one less limb. She rests her head on Frankie’s lap and he scratches her ears gently. 

Some paperwork is filled out and Frankie leads the dog out to his truck with the leash and collar the hospital provided. He lifts her into the passenger seat and she snuggles in. The scent is familiar to her. 

Frankie drives her to a pet store nearby, smiling over at her. She looks at ease with him, relaxed and trusting. Of course she is. This is the man who saved her. 

He helps her down once they arrive and leads her inside. Her walking is pained, he can tell. “Aw, honey,” he frowns. There are carts right inside; Frankie sees the immediate solution. He scoops her up and sets her in a cart. Her tongue hangs out happily as they go through the store. “We’re gonna get you all kinds of fun stuff, huh?” He asks, scratching her head. 

Frankie spares no expense for the dog. As they cross through the store, the cart fills: bags of food and treats, a new leash, and a pink collar decorated with donuts “because you’re such a sweetie, right cutie?”, doggie bags, and food and water dishes. Finally they reach the toy aisle. “Do you wanna pick your own toy?”

He picks her up and sets her down on the ground, unclipping her leash to allow her to explore the toy aisle. She meanders, sniffing toys here and there, even considering one big bone. A few moments later, she comes tottering back to the cart with a toy in her mouth. It’s a big plush hedgehog.  Frankie grins. “Aw, that’s a good one! Good choice, cutie.” He kisses her head as he puts her back in the cart. 

They check out and drive home, and Frankie allows her to wander inside. “Welcome home. At least for now. I suppose I should put an ad out for you online.” 

The dog doesn’t respond, just wanders around the house, sniffing the furniture warily and looking back at Frankie. Asking if he’s coming. He smiles and leads her to the couch, sitting down on it. “I know they say you shouldn’t let dogs on the furniture, but I think you and I can share.” She jumps up and Frankie praises her, giving her a smooch and earning a big lick in return. “Oh, pretty girl, I think you’ll like it here,” he coos to her. She snuggles into his side with a sigh and Frankie sighs too. 

Over the next few days, he posts ads for her, but no one responds. He reaches out to people from the area he was driving in, but no one responds. After Day 4 of searching, there’s no response and he allows himself to sigh in relief. “You’re mine now, baby girl,” he coos to the dog, who’s happily panting and grinning. 

During the first week, Frankie tries out different names for her. None of them seem to stick. He wonders if she ever even had a name before. Ada, Lucille, Thea, Sunny, Miki, Zulu, Fox, Pancake. None of them work right for her personality. 

It’s not until late one night when Frankie’s coke cravings decide upon a name for her. 

It’s 2:24 in the morning and Frankie is quaking like a leaf. The dog is cuddled up into his side on the bed. Wherever he goes around the house, she follows. He’s biting his lip so hard it’s drawing blood. Normally when he’s this anxious, when he yearns to call his dealer, he rides it out by balling his fists so tight his knuckles turn white. But his dog seems to notice. 

She rests her chin on his hip, wagging her tail against the mattress with a steady thump. She whines quietly. She knows. 

Frankie’s at least momentarily distracted. “Hey, beautiful, what’s wrong?” He asks her, scratching his head and rolling over to pet her. He’s still desperate but the focus shifts from the sensation of one last hit to the feeling of her soft fur beneath his fingers. She sighs happily and snuggles into Frankie’s side, and he starts to cry. 

No one has ever needed him. Not his plants: they’re succulents. He deals with them once every other week. Not his former fiancée. She didn’t need him, just liked him for his money and his dick late at night. Not his friends. They had other friends to go to. No, this dog needs him, and it makes his heart feel like it’s going to burst. 

Sitting up, Frankie turns on the television. He hits a random button to choose a channel, and Princess and the Frog comes on. He chuckles a little. “How about Tiana?” He asks his dog and scratches her ears. She doesn’t react. 

It’s near the beginning of the movie. The relaxing music soothes him as the movie starts. The dog lies with her head on his thigh, happily receiving scratchies from her new father. Her head perks up when she hears a shrill noise from the television: Tiana’s best friend in her puffy pink dress. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay baby. It’s just Charlotte.”

Charlotte. Her ears perk up and she looks at him. “Charlotte?” He asks again, and she looks at him in confusion. “Do you like that one? How about Lottie?” No response. “Or Charlie?”

The dog pounces on him with her one front paw and licks his face. Frankie laughs happily scratching her sides. “Is that your name, pretty girl? Is your name Charlie?”

The answer, it seems, is yes.

It’s funny, Frankie thinks. Charlie is the third letter of the military alphabet, after Alpha and Beta.

Before Delta.

She would be, he realizes. She’s more important to him than his Delta Squadron guys. More important to him than the terrible things he did in the military. She comes before Delta.

And that’s how Charlie got her name. 

-

The guys finally came over to Frankie’s house on Night 9 of owning Charlie. 

All of the men are dog lovers, and Charlie takes to Benny quickly. He gives her her favorite kind of scratches: one hand behind the ear, one hand on the tummy. “Yeah, that’s a good tripod,” he teases her as he snuggles her. 

“Hey man, cut it out,” Frankie frowns and smacks his arm. “She’s insecure about it! Be nice.”

Santiago laughs. “Hey, you know what, Fish? This isn’t what I meant when I said that you should get a girl, but I’ll take it. Especially when she’s such a sweetie- oh hi, beautiful,” he coos as Charlie hops his way and licks his face. 

Frankie shakes his head. “Isn’t she a cutie?” He laughs happily as he watches his dog. “I tried posting ads for her, but no one answered. She’s such a sweetheart, potty trained and everything. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Benny grins. “And all because we asked you to get a beer and you caved and said yes.”

“What the hell do you mean caved, Ben? I get beers with you two fuckers three times a week,” he laughs and shakes his head. 

He’s been home alone with her all week, but he hasn’t felt as anxious as he normally does. Her companionship is all he needs, the way she snuggles up tight against him, the way her meal schedule motivates him to eat more. He has a purpose now. 

After the initial excitement, Charlie finds her place sitting at her dad’s feet, panting happily and looking around the room. “She fits in well,” Will nods and leans over as he scratches her head. “She’s the newest member of our group, I suppose.”

“She’s much less work than Fish. Maybe we replace him with her,” Santiago teases and Frankie flips him off, chuckling softly. 

This was a pattern that came to be known as the newly named C Night in Frankie’s head. These are the nights where they order a pizza or takeout and hang out in Frankie’s living room with Charlie. She’s the entertainer of the group, giving the men each some individual snuggles and wandering around the room. She’s funny, flopping onto her back at a human’s feet so that she can get tummy rubs, spending an absurd amount of time sniffing one specific spot on one man’s jeans. They all adore her. 

Life improves for Frankie when he has Charlie. He works shorter hours, spends time brushing her fur. He sleeps at better hours and cares for himself better as a result of caring for her. 

He takes her on a jog every morning. At first, he was nervous to do it. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to pass those Special Ops fitness tests. The thing that encourages him most is that Charlie is just the same speed as him. She runs along happily on three legs at the perfect pace for Frankie to match. 

Frankie lovingly refers to her as his copilot. She loves riding in the passenger seat of his truck, letting the wind from the open windows run through her fur. She gets excited when she hears the word truck and demands that Frankie snuggle her when they’re on a long drive. She even fell asleep on his lap once, with her face resting in the curve of the steering wheel.

Charlie is Frankie’s baby, and Frankie is her favorite human. The two of them are each other’s soulmates, Frankie thinks. His baby girl, his fluffy baby, his cuddlebug. His girl. His one true love is his dog, his Charlie. 

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal

[kkusuka]

Our little corner of the garden. 

based on a request miss Puppy submitted that i was so in love with, i changed it a bit but its mostly of the request lol 

the request:  Imagine y/n is being forced into an arranged married to better her fathers company but obviously she hates the idea but she loves her dad so she agrees. Oikawa on the other hand refuses to let the love of his life go so with the help of Iwa Oikawa got a suit and crash y/n’s wedding. It was right before the bride had to walk. Y/N standing in her bridal suite wearing her beautiful and expensive wedding dress trying not to pass out when Oikawa walked in “wow, don’t you look gorgeous” “Tooru!? What are you doing here!?” Oikawa explains how much he loves her and he can take care of her and she can live her life free of unfair responsibilities. Oikawa asks y/n to run away with him to Argentina to marry him. Y/n ends up agreeing and they run out of the chapel giggling hand in hand while a cheering Iwa is in the drivers seat of the love birds getaway car and yes please I thought that would be so cute 🥺🥺🥺-✨Puppy🤩

relationship: Oikawa Tooru x reader, slight Atsumu x reader, and iwaizumi hajime is mentioned <3

genre: angst with a happy ending 

synopsis: the moment he had lead you into the small corner of the garden your heart was his. 

words: 2.4k 

notes:i turned it into a royal AU because it adds more flare.  i shed more than a few tears while writing this and it has to be my favorite thing I’ve ever published. and that's saying a lot. i hope you enjoy it as much as i do <3

also may or may not be influenced by speak now by taylor swift

Since you could remember there have been two constants in your life.

The first was a bubbly bright-eyed boy Oikawa Tooru.

You had both met on the eve of your seventh birthday, a day you dreaded. Your mother used any and all family events to invite every prominent family in the kingdom for a night of celebration. A night you couldn't participate in due to your age; an answer to a question that you hated to hear.

In your six-year-old mind, the best way to handle your anger was to run to the garden and hide for as long as you could humanly manage. You flung the most desolate corner and squatted right down, head between your knees.

You sat there for what felt like hours until a small pat on your back had you reeling your head to look at who dared to interrupt your pity-party. No one should know where you went and if they did they should know better than to touch you.

But turning and seeing the warmest brown eyes in the world was not what you had expected. The setting sun behind his tufts of chocolate brown hair made him look like he had a halo. Maybe your nights of prayer had worked, god had sent you an angel.

“Now Missy princess, I ain’t a professional but sittin’ like that can't be nice. ‘Cmon up missy girl!”

You aren't sure if you believed his words or if you were so mesmerized by him that you locked hands and let him pull you up revealing the two-inch difference in your height. A difference that he didn't let go of for the rest of the night.

He brought you to a small crevice in the high-leaved walls of your family's garden, settling you down he told you his name: Oikawa Tooru and that he lived in the servants quarters with his mother.

Along with that, you learned of his interest in catching a real-life alien, by the time the sun had fully settled you could hear your name called from the pathway Oikawa had led you down hours before, they had found you, it was time to go.

Oikawa led you back down the track making you promise to come back the next day to form a plan that no alien could avoid. And so every afternoon into the evening at dinner was spent telling stories and making contraptions that you were sure no alien could averse to.

You couldn't count how many times your childhood rebellion had got you in trouble with your more than disappointed parents. Not even their cliche speeches about being of a high standard and not meddling with peasants were able to deter you from seeing him.

One thing was for certain: Oikawa Tooru became your first friend.

The second constant was the fact you would never be able to have your own future.

You learned this at five years old when your mother began to groom you into the perfect bride she expected you to be. Managing to convince you to finally start taking lessons at age 15 by mentioning how late everything already was.

You liked to pretend the etiquette lessons are just because your mother wanted you to act like a lady. But the back of your mind always reminded you it was because she wanted you to be a great wife. She didn't care if you could hold a teacup properly, she cared if anyone else noticed.

You used your speech classes to strengthen your voice for when Oikawa asked you to sing for him when he wanted to sleep. Not because you needed to make speeches when you are crowned queen. It didn't matter that you were a complimented orator, you cared that in his daily letter to you he complimented how soft your voice was as it lulled him to sleep.  

Your favorite was the dance lessons, the same ones where you would run to see Tooru in your secluded corner of the garden and teach him everything you learned. You'd spend hours telling him the ‘proper’ way to place his foot as he laughs at you about how up-tight you sound. Of course, he always listens, continuing to twirl you around with the utmost pristine.

These dances made you think about the ever-growing difference in height the two of you shared, no longer were you two inches taller than the brown-haired boy. Now the small boy you once knew towered over you, and he constantly reminded you of it.

“Aw! y/n you look so tiny from here!” he laughed as he held you from the waist and led you in a waltz that he was making up as the music went on. Emphasizing his point by placing a palm on your head ruffling your hair and once again laughing as your cheeks puffed out.

His voice was no longer high-pitched and no longer cracked when he whined about how annoying your mother was being. His deep voice lingered in your mind as you laid away in your bed after he dropped you off hours before, like a whisper in the night.

Nothing else had changed about him, his eyes were still the warmest and lightest you've ever seen and his hair was still just as soft as it looked. He still smiled like the world was at his feet and he still conspired with you about the aliens that WERE coming.

He was still your Tooru. Your Toru had grown so he could tilt your chin to look him in the eye. Your Tooruthat teased you by whispering improper things during gatherings, the same whispers that send chills down your spine. Your Tooru, whose hands grab your waist and leave ghostly touches on you for weeks, the same hands that envelop you and drag you to the gardens.

Your Tooru that you’ve been in love with since you met in the evening in your garden. The same love you would never indulge.

A love that you have been preparing to lose yet at the same time you would never release.  

At 17 you had received the news you had blocked out of your life: your parents had found you a suitable husband. You were sure he was wonderful, but the idea repulsed you.

And it seemed to repulse Tooru even more. He had gone silent the second you came to him teary-eyed, spouting about how you would never be free again. For hours he held your shaking form telling you he would make sure you were happy no matter what.

Beginning the next day Oikawa tried to spend every waking moment by your side, running through the halls, late-night cooking when neither of you could sleep, and even taking your parent's crowns and pretending you were dancing at both of your coronations.

Weeks upon weeks you spent basking in each other's company doing everything to ignore the impending doom you rapidly approached. And finally, your sphere of bliss with Tooru was broken when your first meeting with your future husband was announced.

Atsumu Miya was wonderful. He was handsome and funny, knew how to converse, and your parents seemed to thoroughly enjoy his presence. And he was extremely nice to you, making you feel as if you’d known him your whole life.

But one thing had you entirely consumed the whole visit: Atsumu Miya was not Oikawa Tooru. Not in the slightest.

How was it possible they had the same brown eyes but Tooru’s were so much brighter and they looked at you like you were the entire world. How is it that Atsumu looked at you like everyone else? he didn't make you feel special.

Atsumu’s hair was not the soft brown you were accustomed to, his hair was colored an ugly yellow that you couldn't tell if your opinion was biased or you were beginning to hate the color.

Atsumu’s smile was not the warm, sweet tilt of Tooru’s lips, instead, it was a tight, flirty smirk that unsettled you to the core. Atsumu didn't have the cute tilt of Tooru’s eyes when he smiled.

He was simply not Tooru. And that would simply not do.

Somewhere in your mind, you knew that no one could replace Tooru. You were all his no matter who you were set to marry.

And that fact didn't help when he volunteered to help choose flowers. It was hard to swallow when he chose napkins and helped with the centerpieces. You wanted to scream when he asked if he could cake taste with you. You wanted to run and never come back when he sat and watched you try on the hand-tailored dress for your big day.  

You held on to the delusion that you and Tooru were planning your own wedding, not you and another man who would never hold a place in your heart. That you and he were baking a cake that you and he would cut the next day, then go to a beautiful island and live in domestic bliss for the rest of your natural lives, maybe to meet in the next.

The hardest to swallow was the visit to the corner of the garden the night before you give up your freedom. How he pulled you into his embrace asking if the two of you could practice your first dance with Atsumu, “just to practice” he reminds.

“I can't believe you're getting married” he mused while rearranging his hands to the middle of your waist. Rocking you back and forth as you hugged your arms around his back. “Do you remember the first time we came to this spot? You were pouting about your birthday, and me, the amazing Oikawa Tooru, was the only one who could help you.”

He kept you tucked into his chest as he continued to list all of the most important memories the two of you shared in your corner of the garden.

“This really is our corner Tooru.”

“Yeah…. It really is, do you mind if I add another memory to our corner?”

He kissed you right there, holding on to whatever he could of your love.

Oikawa Tooru was not a prince.

That fact haunted him since that eve of your seventh birthday. He was the son of a barmaid who gained work doing labor in the castle for food and a place to stay. Not someone whom the crowned princess should associate with.

And the head knight in training thought exactly that, Iwaizumi Hajime was his closest confidant since coming to the country of Aoba, his best friend. And also the grounder of all of Tooru’s ridiculous rambling about spending the rest of his life catching aliens with you.

Oikawa has to give it to him, Iwaizumi did a good job making sure he didn’t do anything too stupid. Unfortunately, he couldn't talk him out of meeting you one last time before he’d probably never see you again.

He held you in his arms one last time, telling you all of his favorite memories he held so dearly, back when you had all the time in the world. Back when the two of you were invincible.

Back to when he wished he just grabbed you and told you everything you made him feel, all the times he just wanted to scream how much he loved you.

He wasn't a prince in the eyes of everyone else, but he didn't need to be when he had you.

Oikawa Tooru was not a prince, but when had that mattered to him anyway?

Before you could fully wake, you were being pulled in a thousand different directions for last-minute dress fittings and checking the venue a final time before being whisked away for someone to do your hair.

You didn't even realize what was happening until you were being once more uprooted and told to wait in a small fitting room. For what felt like hours you waited, thinking about what your new, presumably miserable, life would be like.

The two women helping you in your dress were far more excited than you were, a lump had formed in your throat and if they didn't leave you alone and stop talking about your soon-to-be husband, you were going to be sick.

You looked beautiful, whoever did your hair and makeup did wonderfully. You looked like a bride. Maybe you could get through this if you closed your eyes and pretend it was Tooru and not the blonde who was getting ready across the hall somewhere.

You were given your bouquet and a long veil was placed on your head, it was finally time. No more dancing in the garden or making traps for the pesky aliens. No more Oikawa Tooru.

Somewhere in your thoughts, you missed when the door opened and a hand was placed on your back.

Turning over your shoulder to see the same brown eyes that you have for the past eleven years and the same soft brown hair you've braided and run your hands through. It wasn't the sun but the light in the room as you looked up at him made it look like he had a halo. God really had sent you an angel.

“Now missy, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be happy on your wedding day.”

You couldn't think of anything but the way he was smiling at you, the same smile he had while leading you down the path all those years ago. The same one who was leading you out of the room to a side exit door,

“And I've been doing some thinking, I can't just let the woman I love go and marry someone else just like that. Especially not to come half-ass wanna be casanova!”

He was lifting the veil off your face, wiping away the flood of tears coming down your cheeks as you brought your hand up to help him with his.

“So, princess y/n l/n, would you follow me to make some more memories?”

“Oh, I'd follow you to the ends of the earth Prince Oikawa Tooru.”

[unloved-cadillac]

hi!! i love your works sm!! they always make my heart flutter and it helps me get through these past few weeks without breaking down so thank you for your service <3 *salutes*

may I request levi with his SO (who just got over her 4 years of bisexual relationship then realized they became toxic af and just wanted to do nothing with that person anymore) and levi being patient with her + being a man of his words (because she never experienced it with her ex) and fluff prompts #2 and #8 if it's okay 🤗

love u!!! - ⚙️

C/n: *salutes back with tears in my eyes* I’m so sorry that you have breakdowns. I hate it so much but I’m honored that I have been helping you in coping with anything. Love you, take care of yourself, thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 2.4𝗄

———————————————————————

I Wouldn’t Leave.(Levi x Reader)

TW: toxic relationship.

“Mia, come with me to watch the stars!”

“To watch the stars? What are you, five? Grow up Y/n. Seriously.”

“Mia I think I’m getting pretty good at this what do you think?”

“Your stance is shit and you would move faster if you weren’t that big. Lose some weight, yeah?”

“I love you Mia.”

“Whatever Y/n.”

This was how it was. You and Mia were dating for almost four years now. In the beginning, everything was perfect. Mia would steal kisses from you and make you smile. She would stick by you throughout the days and would sneak into your bed at night to cuddle. But that only lasted for the first year. After that, you two slowly drifted apart. You didn’t even know what had happened. One day, she’s the best thing that has ever happened to you and the next she’s bad-mouthing you to everyone. Although this happened, you didn’t leave her. Rather, you didn’t want to.

There was so much going on in this godforsaken world and to have someone there to lean on was rare. So letting go of Mia wasn’t the best of decisions right now.

But, would she even care if you died out there? If a Titan suddenly crushed you in front of her eyes? Would she even shed a tear to show her sorrow for the girl that stood by her for years?

“Mia?” You called her. She didn’t even hear you despite sitting next to you. So you tapped her shoulder and called her again. “Mia?” “What do you want?!” Mia yelled, shocking you. “Uhm, I just wanted to ask if you’re going to train with me tomorrow?” You ask and she scoffs. “Why would I train with you? I have others who could actually keep up with me. So no. I won’t be training with you.” She finishes and turns away from you. You nod to yourself and wake up to go to your room.

Levi noticed how badly Mia treated you. Everyone knew you two were together since your cadet days. You mentioned in a conversation to Eren that you were bisexual but it didn’t bother Levi. You loved who you loved but now, he doubts that you loved Mia. Maybe you did back then but that love wasn’t meant to last long. Levi hated seeing you sad or upset. He developed a little crush on you but he buried those feelings deep down because, well, you were taken.

He woke up and followed you out of the Mess Hall. You walked up to your room door but stopped. Suddenly, you ran away. Levi’s eyes widened and ran to you. You ran right up the stairs to the roof and slammed opened the door. Levi stopped running and walked quietly behind you. You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They fell to the floor and the cool air blew against your face making you shiver. You sat on the ledge and put your knees up to your chest and cried.

Levi stood by the door and watched you. This was your spot too, huh? He used to come here when he had the time to unwind. Levi heard your sobs all the way there and walked to you. He didn’t want to startle you so he made his presence known by clearing his throat. You gasped and looked up at Levi. Your current state could make him break down.

“C-Captain Levi? What are you doing here?” You ask in between hiccups. He turns and leans his back against the ledge. “I followed you here.” He says bluntly and your eyes widen. “Listen. I know it’s none of my business. Hell, you’re probably gonna slap me if I say this but I feel like you should know,” he begins and you face him while wiping your tears. “Your girlfriend is a bitch. She doesn’t deserve you. I see the way you look at her like she’s your everything and I see her looking at you like dirt. Mia might be the one you felt could love you the way you love her but it isn’t true. I respect you as a soldier and as a person so you needed to know. One day, you’re going to wake up and realize that there’s more to life than shitty people treating you like shit and you need to stand up for yourself.” Levi continues and faces you. Your eyes were red and tears flowed heavier than before. He was right. You didn’t deserve this shit. But hearing it come from another person, a captain nonetheless, meant that it was time for you to let go.

“There’s someone out there who could love you better.” He says quietly and you turn around and face the same way he was. You wiped your tears and looked back at his side-profile. Now that you think about it, Levi had always had an eye out for you. During training he’d always help out and expeditions would always check on you. But you always ran to Mia whenever you could, leaving him.

“I, I don’t know what to do. Should I break up with her?” You ask and he looks up at the sky then you. “You do what you feel is the right thing to do. I just wanted to let you know that you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” Levi explains and turns to walk away. “Levi?” You call and he turns to face you. “Hm?” You look up at him and smile through your tears. “Thank you.” He nods and turns and walks away with his heart beating through his chest.

~~~~

“What the fuck do you mean, Y/n?! We can’t break up!” Mia yells, catching the attention of the people around the pair of you. You flinch at her telling but you stand your ground and look back at her. “I’m tired of your bullshit, Mia. And I can’t believe that it took me this long to realize that you never loved me the way that I loved you. So it’s only fair for us to break up.” You say and Mia closes her fists. “You bitch. You’ll never make it without me.” She spits out and you chuckle. “I’ll be fine. Goodbye Mia.” You smile at her and walk away, leaving her shunned. You start walking to the stables and walk past Levi who caught your eye. You smiled and waved at him while he gave you a curt nod. You go to your horse when you hear footsteps approaching you. “You heard everything, didn’t you?” You ask and Levi scoffs. “With her big mouth of course.” You chuckle at his bluntness and face him. Your eyes were still swollen but you looked...happier. He liked seeing you happy.

“Thanks for yesterday, Levi. I needed the push.” You say and he waves you off. “Don’t mention it. You’re a good soldier. Don’t let people like her put you down.” Levi says and walks away leaving you smiling the whole day.

~~~~

The following days, Levi saw you become a whole new person. You became a social butterfly. Smiling more, laughing, cracking jokes. The way you were acting no one would ever think you just came out of a 4 year relationship. Levi’s heart would sometimes skip a beat when you looked his way. Your eye bags started to disappear and you looked so much healthier. You peaked in training and left Mia in the dust. He saw that she would sometimes try to talk to you but you just ignored her. Karma^

You and Levi had started to interact more and more and you felt so much happier. Levi had made it a point to come to his office to help with paperwork but in reality it was just to spend more time together.

Although it’s been three months since your break up, you could feel yourself falling for Levi. And it scared you. The little gestures you both would do for each other and the stealing glances made you have butterflies.

It was scary, this feeling. Not even Mia made you feel like this. You started to avoid him, little by little. You Knew that if you gave into your true feelings for him, it wasn’t going to end well. The fear showed on your face whenever you were with him and Levi took notice of the change in your behavior and called you to his office one night.

“Name and business.” His deep, monotonous voice called out. “Y/n L/n. You called for me?” You say and the door opens revealing Levi. He gestures for you to enter and you walk into his office, anxious. You heard the door close and Levi’s footsteps. “Sit. Would you like some tea?” He asks and you shake your head as you sit down. He furrows his eyebrows in slight confusion but brushes it off. You always liked his tea so it was confusing why you would reject the offer. Levi sat in his chair and looked at you. You seemed...uncomfortable. “Y/n?” He called out to you and you looked back up at him. “Yes?”

“Do you know that saying “beating around the bush”?” He asks and you nod. “Yes.” “I guess it’s time for us to stop doing that with our feelings for each other.” Your breath hitches and it seemed like time stopped when he said that. You just wanted to leap into his arms and plant your lips on his but it was too soon.

“I agree, Levi, but I don’t know if it’s time yet. Even though Mia was a horrible person to me, she was my first love and it still hurts letting her go. So maybe, if you find it okay, can we wait? Just for a little more. Until I know for sure.” You explain softly as Levi listens intently. The silence settles around the room and you exhale a breath. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. You wake up and turn to leave. “I’m sorry. I should-...” “No.” Levi says and holds your arm, turning you around.

He brings you closer and cups your cheek. He ghosts his lips over your forehead then plants a soft kiss on it. He pulled away and looked at you. “I’ll wait forever if that was what it takes. There’s no rush,” he takes your hand and places it over his heart, “it’s yours. I’m yours. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.” He assures you and you wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you, Levi.”

~~~~

Couple of months passed by and Levi gave you the time and space for you to get yourself together. Healing. He would wait for you. Even if it wasn’t in his favor, he still wanted you to find happiness. You deserved it and everything more.

Now you were on the training grounds, sparring with Annie. You improved quite a lot but Annie caught you and threw you down. “Ah, shit.” You pant out and Annie holds out her hand for you. “You’re getting better, L/n. Almost got me there.” She says and pulls you up. “Almost.” You smile and look around where your eyes landed on the captain. He was watching you with a glare, that other people would find terrifying, but you found it reassuring. You flashed a quick smile to him and went back to training.

That night you made your way to his office. He didn’t call you, nor was he expecting you. But you wanted to see him. So you knocked on his door which was quickly opened by the captain. “Y/n? What’s wrong?” He asks and you take a moment to look at him. Unbuttoned shirt, black pants with his feet bare. Looks like he just came out of a shower. “Does something need to be wrong for me to see you?” You ask and he shakes his head with a soft smile. “No. Come in.” He says and moves out of the way for you to enter. He shuts the door behind you and you face him. He was a few meters away and you took in a shaky breath. “Levi. I, uh, I’ve been thinking. For the past couple of months, I’ve realized that it was time to move on. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and about..us. I want you, Levi. I think I have for a while but I wasn't sure if it was true. But I know now that you’re the one who had my heart all this time. So, if you still want me, I’m here.” You say smiling and looking at the ground.

You see his feet in front of yours and you look up to see him. He had a smile of his own plastered on his face. “It’s about time, brat.” He whispers and kisses you softly. You melt into his kiss as his arms move around your waist and yours around his neck. This feeling. This moment. It was like all of your senses came to life and the joy you never knew you had blossomed.

When you both pulled away, Levi took you to his bedroom and laid you down on his bed. He crawled over you and planted kisses all over your face and neck. You giggled which in turn made him chuckle. He looked up at your flushed face as you cupped his face. “May I?” He asks softly as he brushes his nose against yours as his hands started to roam. “Of course. I’m yours.” And the night became the night you felt alive after all these years.

~~~~

The morning sun shines through the bedroom window and brightens up the room. You groan and move away from the light and roll over to the other side bumping into Levi’s chest. You smile to yourself and cuddle into him further. “You’re very lazy.” Levi says and you chuckle. “It’s too early. Plus we’re off today so shut up.” You groggily say and he scoffs and pulls you up and holds you. You slowly open your eyes and look at Levi who was already staring. “Hi.” “Hey.” You two stay like that for a few minutes but then Levi moves your hair away from your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “Never would I have thought that your eyes would be the ones that I want to stare at forever.” He whispers to you and you smile and hug him. He wraps his arms around your bare waist and holds you tighter. “I love you Levi.” You whisper with a few tears falling. He rubs your head and closes his eyes. “I love you too, Y/n. And just so you know,” he says and pulls away to look at you. He wipes your tears away and continues:

“I wouldn’t leave.”

———————————————————————

“You deserve everything good in this world.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[warm-starlight]

My thoughts regarding SnK chapter 139

Read at your own risk because my thoughts are all over the place and incoherent. 😅

So when the spoilers came out i innitially cringed a bit because of how cheesy the leakers made it sound due to the salt lol. After Korean raws came out, i liked the images. The art is phenomenal! After reading the official translation i am in love with it. ❤😭

It was so incredibly bittersweet, just like Isayama promised us.

The entire EreMin dialogue was heartwrenching and i said that if Eren pulls a Lelouch i will apologize for hating his character so much post TS. So i guess i have to apologize.

This dude was willing to turn himself into an absolute monster to ensure his friends have a bright future ahead of themselves. He believed that with him laying down the foundation and dirtying his hands to the point of being irredeemable they will be able to ceize their own future.

The story he told about Ymir and her motivation explains few things: Why she protected the king with her body, why she kept building the titans even after Eren seemingly freed her, why killing Zeke stopped the rumbling and why Eren told her "You're not a got nor a slave. Just a human being". He felt how strong her love for the king was and realized she is just a poor girl who was bound by her feelings.

Then we go to the talk about Mikasa and Eren reveals he has been in love with her that whole time, but kept it within because he knew their love is impossible, because he will have to die for their sakes. He completely bares his soul to Armin revealing his selfish, pathetic, Human side which i absolutely loved btw! But despite that he asks Armin not to tell her about it as he wants her to be happy, never wondering what if.. This also confirmed that the scene in 138 was in fact their shared dream and not "mikasa's delusion"..i hope antis die of embarassment now haha.

It is also revealed Mikasa's choice that time in 138 will lift the curse of the titans. Ymir was waiting for a girl who is deeply in love to show her how to break free and let go of her loved one.

This was what led Ymir to smile and finally free herself and remove the curse from the world.

It seems that everyone got their little talk with Eren, except Levi and Pieck. I think Eren was not sure what to tell Levi or maybe because Levi is an Ackerman, getting him to the paths was too much effort, considering he could only access Mikasa's mind only moments before his death.

In the end all their friends acknowledged his sacrifice (not the genocide!). Annie and Jean calling him suicidal blockhead for one last time made me sad and nostalgic. Annie showed she cared about him since trainee days... 🥲

Now we get to Levi's final goodbye and this was the moment i started crying. This man... He suffered so much, lost Everyone, destroyed his body just to make sure their deaths had meaning, but in the end it was all worth it, so he gave them a soft smile while shedding tears. Don't get me started on Hange being front and center ashdnkhdudjndnkxh

The warriors reunited with their loved ones, FaBi got to see each other again and their suffering also ended..

Armin's scene was such a great callback to trost arc.

It was sooo good. Also bonus Annie blushing at her husbando.

Three years later we see Queen historia with her beloved child who is now free from the titan curse, being happy and soft. She is probably much better mom than her own mother was

But she is also a Queen of the country who has become like a fascist dictatorship. 😬

Despite that, she retains her kindness for her friends, sheltering Jean's and Connie's families from the Yegerists. She is a strong, independent woman.

She writes her letter and tells Armin and co even if Eren was right about one side not being able to live in peace until the other is wiped out, he left Paradis in *their* hands, meaning Herself and The alliance. Which is why i believe the peace negotiations would go successfuly.

I am really digging Armin's speech here. Armin has been a chad this entire time heh.

And so we see Levi chilling in a wheelchair in Onyankopon's country, living the life, until a plane flies by and Onyankopon gives him that look. And he looks somewhat sad.

An anon pointed out that the bubble of "They'll want to know what we saw" being placed on Levi's panel is so poetic, because from 115 Levi only saw Hange and followed her lead to free humanity and i agree.

And finally we see Mikasa sitting by Eren's grave, waiting for everyone to join her. Her clothes and longer hair indicate she indeed became the same normal girl she was before she met Eren. She misses Eren, it's normal, but a bird comes by and wraps a scarf around her, making her smile and look happy which gives just the right amount of sweetness to the story.

My only complaint about the story comes from Bias. Yeah, Isayama killed Hange for seemingly no reason, but i think the reason was simple: He needed to portray two characters who love each other letting go of each other, of their dream to remain together forever for the sake of the world and create a parallel between Ymir and the king and Mikasa and Eren. As i said earlier, Hange didn't do it for fame or recognition, she did it so humanity could keep surviving and so Levi could see the world without walls that he talked about in front of her in uprising.

I think no matter what happens, Levi will Never forget them as long as he lives just like Mikasa will never forget Eren.

So i guess that's it.. I sincerely am grateful to Isayama for not letting me down with his story, for creating amazing, relatable, Human characters, for sending me on a rolercoaster of emotions every month and it was so many emotions from depression, to thrill, to happiness, to anger... 🥲

I think just like the editor said i will reread the story from the beginning and with the ending in mind. It should give me a whole new perspective!

Oof this got long. If you are still here, thanks for reading.

[in-my-feels-probably]

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

Chapter Thirteen

If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more. don’t forget to read the prologue, it’s important to the story!

INEFFABLE – Kaz Brekker

ineffable (adj.) too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of. 

Chapter Thirteen

The Crows were ducked away in a shed, as safe as they could be for the moment. Kaz had emptied his pockets, placing everything he had on the table. A couple Ravkan coins and bills, and not much else.

Inej was grimacing. “Is this all we have left?”

She groaned, clutching her side, taking a deep breath. “Jesper, my bag.”

She pulled up her shirt to reveal a deep wound on her abdomen just as Jesper had turned around. He gagged, averting his eyes.

“Mother of Saints.”

Elham chuckled, helping Inej lean back against a stack of hay on the floor so she could have better access to the wound. She lowered her to the ground, helping hold her shirt up, not missing Kaz’s look of concern. She turned back to Inej, watching her grab things out of her bag.

“It’s not healing on its own. I need to stitch it.”

Elham glanced at Kaz and Jesper’s uneasy faces, giving them a grin.

“Don’t worry, I happen to specialize in stab wounds. Granted, I’m normally on the other side of them, but that’s alright, I’ve had enough sticks myself to know how to stitch them up.”

Kaz turned his head away as Elham threaded the needle, handing it to Inej. “How long before you can travel.”

Inej was quick to respond. “Not long. Where?”

“Ketterdam.”

Elham whipped around to face him, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Earlier, she was so sure that they’d either get the kruge, and she’d be safe from the Menagerie, or they wouldn’t make it back to Ketterdam, and it wouldn’t matter whether they got it or not. But to go back now, and empty handed, she would almost certainly have to go.

“Between our dwindling funds, lack of time, and conflicting interests, it’s time we cut our losses.”

He moved to go outside, and Elham called after him. “Kaz.”

He didn’t look at her, stepping out the door.

“Kaz!”

He was already gone.

Jesper scoffed. “I guess the Bastard misses the Barrel.”

Elham shook her head, willing the tears not to fall, turning her attention back to Inej. “Hey, love. Let’s get this fixed, yeah?”

Inej took a deep breath as Elham grabbed the needle, hooking it through her skin. She pulled the skin taught, trying to get it done as quickly as she could.

Jesper groaned, gagging, having to turn his head.

Inej scoffed. “You can watch a bullet tear through a man, but a needle’s too much.”

“It...yeah, well, you see, bullets are bam, in and out. That’s...just...ugh!"

Elham laughed, letting Inej take the needle and finish it up. Jesper was still groaning.

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

“When I was at the Menagerie.”

“Yeah, but why would you...oh. That’s dark.”

“Which is why I can’t go back.”

Elham’s smile fell from her face, her laughter dying. It was bad enough that Inej had to go through all of that pain, but now it was looking like she would have to as well. She knew she would be able to handle it, and even if she couldn’t, she would go on anyway. Heleen would get what was coming to her one way or another.

Elham swallowed. “You’re not going back. You know that.”

Inej’s eyes clouded, and Elham watched her try and fight tears. She quickly gave her a smile, grabbing her hand.

“It's ok, it's ok! We’re both gonna be fine, yeah? Right, Jesper?”

He tried his best to lighten the mood, but his face was full of pity, and Elham knew in that moment that Inej had told him about her deal with Heleen.

“Yeah, that's right, love. Inej, I bet if you told Kaz that story, I think he’d murder Heleen himself.”

Elham chuckled. “Saints, if he doesn’t, I will.”

---

It was nightfall now, and Inej was well enough to stand and move around. Elham led her outside, where Kaz was sitting on a wooden box, staring into the flames. She led Inej over, before taking a seat next to Kaz.

Inej stayed standing, handing Kaz his cane. “Jesper fixed your cane.”

He took it from her, bringing it close to him. He rested his hand on the Crows head. Elham noticed how he almost seemed more at ease with it, like it was another limb, in the same way that her sword was like another limb to her. And, Saints, did she miss her sword.

He said nothing, not even a thank you, and Elham gave him a look. He sighed, clenching his jaw. Inej turned back to head inside, when Kaz called after her.

“You were right.”

Inej turned back to him. “About what?”

“The Sun Summoner. You were right. She’s real. I played it over and over in my head. None of it’s a trick. The light was hers.”

“So, what? Kaz Brekker finally believes in Saints?”

“Hardly.”

“But you just said that--”

“I said Alina Starkov is a Grisha with the power to manipulate light. She’s a girl with a gift, not some savior of lore.”

“Fine. Kaz, if not Saints, what do you believe in?”

Kaz glanced at Elham, and she held her breath, meeting his gaze. He turned back to Inej.

“Myself.”

Inej scoffed. “Why’d I even ask?”

“And you. And Jesper...and Elham. My Crows.”

“Because we flock to your bidding? Like the animals of vengeance you named us after?”

Elham laughed quietly. “I happen to like crows.”

“Crows don’t just remember the faces of people who wronged them. They also remember those who were kind. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for.”

He was talking to Inej still, but he was looking at Elham.

Inej nodded at him, heading back inside. “Thank you, Kaz.”

And then she was gone. Elham was left next to Kaz. They sat in silence for a moment, before Kaz spoke up.

“I knew, you know.”

She faced him, and he was already looking at her. She felt her cheeks heat up under his stare. “Knew what?”

“That you’re a Grisha.”

Her eyes widened, and her face contorted with confusion. “What do you mean you knew?”

“Of course I knew. How could I not? I notice everything about you.”

Elham was hiding a smile now, eyes watering. “Like?”

He scoffed, exasperated.

“Like? Like everything. Like how you run warmer than everyone else. That was one of the first signs. That night I broke my leg, and you had to help me back to the Slat. Your hand touched the back of my neck, and you were warm. Unnaturally warm. I couldn’t figure it out then, but as I put the pieces together over time, it made sense. I guess that’s just another part of you being an Inferni, or just another thing different about your powers than the other Inferni.”

Elham felt a tear roll down her cheek.

“I think you being warm to the touch helps. When I touch people, and their skin touches mine, it’s like I’m back in the harbour with those bodies again. Cold. It’s so fucking cold, and it makes my skin crawl. It’s like rubbing against sandpaper. But when I touch you...it’s not like that. It’s still difficult for me, but not unbearable.”

She was in awe of his words, but he kept talking about the other things he noticed about her, rambling.

“Like how you like to rile Jesper up, just to get a reaction out of him. Like how you sit in that chair in my office in the most uncomfortable position you could possibly be in, just to spite me. Like how you were fearless when you offered yourself up in Inej’s place to Heleen, because you’re just that protective over your family. Like how you’re ruthless when you’re the Valkyrie.”

She could feel the tears streaming down her face, but she ignored it, listening..

“How could I not notice all of that? I mean, Saints, El, you’re...you’re--”

She caught her breath, asking. “I’m what?”

“You’re fucking ineffable.”

He took his cane and tapped the end of it to her ankle, the faintest smile on his face.

“I missed doing that.”

She felt a sob catch in her throat, and she quickly wiped at her eyes. Her mind was racing, she couldn’t think of the right words to say. He beat her to it.

He murmured. “I have something for you.”

He pulled a sword out from under the bench. She gasped as he picked it up and unsheathed it. It was absolutely beautiful. The hilt was pure matte black, with shining silver engraved all throughout. It was heavy in her hand, the weight familiar. She sheathed it, turning to him, in awe.

“I found it in the Darkling’s carriage, under one of the seats. Figured it was fitting for you to have it.”

Elham belted it around her waist, strapping it to her back through the harnessing on her back.

“Thank you, Kaz. I really missed having one.”

He almost grinned. “I needed my Valkyrie fully functional again. The Grisha power is a plus, but I’ve always preferred you with a sword. Now, what are you gonna name it?”

She turned to him, confused. “Name it?”

“All of the good swords have names.”

She nodded, pondering for a bit, before a smirk landed on her face.

Inej named her knives after her Saints, Elham would name her sword after her sins.

Afterall, she was no Saint.

“Wrath.”

Kaz scoffed, letting out a dark chuckle. “Wrath. I like it.”

She smiled at him again. “Thank you, Kaz. I mean it.”

He knew she wasn’t just talking about the sword, and that she meant thank you for everything. For sticking with her all those years, for giving her a place in the Dregs, for making her the Valkyrie. For everything.

He just nodded. “Come on, let’s go show Jesper your new sword. He’s a little scared of you with one, did you notice that?”

She giggled, and a grin appeared on her face. Kaz would never admit it, but he loved watching her happy like this.

“Oh, I know.”

---

A/N - i was so excited to write this chapter, it has some of my favorite stuff in it that i wanted to write. not entirely loving it, but it's decent i guess. we still have about an episode and a half of content left, a few more chapters to go. i wanted to get this one out because i know the last one was shorter. i hope y'all liked this chapter, let me know. thank you for the support!

[all1e23]

Tricks & Treats

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Orion’s Halloween is quickly turning rotten until someone helps to turn her day around with a few sweet treats. 

Warnings:  N/A Unless you count a disgusting amount of fluff to be a warning.

A/N:   A new Astrophile drabble! This is set in the very far future, Halloween 2042. Orion is 27 and it’s just the kiddos. No Beck or Bucky. This does have some bits (okay a lot of bits) of the the shared Price of Astrophile universe collab with Tara and if you haven’t read The Price of Gold you need to! Thank you to my beautiful @moonbeambucky​ for looking it over for me. If you have not read the series Astrophile, THERE WLL BE MAJOR SPOILERS.  

Catch up on the series here!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!*

Halloween 2042

Today has been a disaster. A complete and utter nightmare. It started with spilling hot tea all over her copy of Star Lore and down the front of her favorite skirt, which forced Ori to settle for the little black number Cassie bought her as a Halloween costume. It’s supposed to be a cat but it’s really a dress accompanied by cat ears. It’s not that it’s awful, it’s not her usual taste. It’s a simple spaghetti strap dress, sweetheart necklace that doesn’t dip too low and cut just above her knee. As far as Halloween costumes go it’s fairly modest but it’s a little tight compared to the rest of Ori’s closet. 

Little did she know that was just the beginning to her terrible day. This was the first day in months that Ori was running the store on her own. No mom to fall back on. Not that it hasn’t happened before. At fourteen Ori was working the floor by herself so none of this was new but, today has been a nightmare from the moment the doors opened. It was unusually busy for a holiday, especially Halloween. It wasn’t often that the store was packed with customers on a day like today and there were moments when Ori began to feel claustrophobic with the amount of people filling the tiny shop.  

Half of the morning was spent on decorating the window display for a new series that was set to be released at the beginning of November. The copies were scheduled to be delivered today, but they never showed and when Ori called to check on their status, the man she was unlucky enough to be put in contact with screamed at her, explaining that it was a holiday and not everyone spent their lives working. 

It was one of those days where she wished she was ten years old again and Bucky could swoop in and save the day. 

By some miracle, there was a lull, and she was able to slip behind the counter where her phone is kept when she’s working the floor alone. She swiped away the missed calls from Cassie and ignored the texts from Leo. There was only one person who knew how to calm the swirling mess in her head right now and she knows how pathetic she looks, twenty-seven, and tears swimming in her eyes. She didn’t care because just hearing his voice would help settle her. Theo’s voice rang her ear and as happy as she was to hear it, part of her wished it wasn’t his voicemail. 

“H-hey,” Ori’s voice cracked, she cleared her throat ridding it of the tears choking her. “I know you’re at work. I’m sorry I’m calling. Please tell me I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m so sorry if I did. I just… I needed to hear your voice. I’m having a really awful day. That party with Cassie is tonight. I don’t want to go even though Cassie says it will be fun. And this new series. This stupid dumb shipment. They said they would be here today and I spent all morning doing the window display between the mad rush of customers by the way, they never showed. When I called to check in they said they can’t get here because it’s a holiday and well, they yelled at me. Now, I have to find something to replace the window display and spend another hour fixing what I did this morning. The store is so incredibly busy. I haven’t even stopped for lunch. I’m hungry and tired and I hate this day. Great. Now, I’m whining. Did I mention that I miss you? Well, I do and-” 

“Ma'am?” A deep voice grabs Ori’s attention and she turns around to find a man in a UPS shirt standing behind the counter, she smiles as kindly as she can and pulls the phone away from her mouth to answer him, “I’m so sorry. Can I help you?”  

“We have your delivery.”

Ori can feel the color drain from her face. She shouldn’t have that many boxes and the publisher on the clipboard being handed to her isn’t right. 

“Wait… No. No, I didn’t order that. That’s not mine-”

“Orion Barnes?” 

“Well, yes that’s me but,” She sighs, holding back the whimper that’s threatening to escape her. “Can you hold on just one second?" 

Ori didn’t wait for his okay like she normally would have, she stepped towards her office and put the phone back up to her ear, “I guess my terrible, awful, no good day isn’t over. Talk to you soon? I hope.”

Orion had her eyes glued to a stack of invoices in front of her when the bell above the shop door rang. Thankfully, she was able to clear up the whole shipping mixup, but dealing with that set her even further behind inventory. It didn’t matter much. She knew who it was without having to raise her head. Ori didn’t have to look up to know her sister had arrived. Cassie skipped nearly everywhere, she has since she was old enough to walk and between the jingling of the bracelets on her wrist, the massive keyring on her purse, and the bells on her shoes (that had nothing to do with Halloween) it was easy to know when she arrived. The jingling came to a stop next to Ori, and a slight nudge to her hip that made Ori look up from the papers in her hand to find Cassie handing over a small brown paper bag from the bakery next door. Ori narrows her eyes at the gesture. Is she trying to butter her up about the party tonight? 

“What’s this?”

“Cinnamon bagel from next door,” Cassie said with a certain self-satisfied taunt to her voice. “A certain boy texted me and said you hadn’t eaten today and asked if I could bring you something when I come by to pick you up for tonight." 

Ori beams brightly as she peeks in the bag, avoiding her baby sister'’ suspicious and slightly giddy gaze.

“Question. Why is Theo texting me about your food needs and how does he know about tonight?” 

She doesn’t answer, but this isn’t unusual. Like Bucky, Ori’s softer, gentler when it comes to revealing things close to her heart. There are some secrets she’s not ready for the world (or herself) to know yet. Cassie on the other hand is loud, in all things, but especially with what’s written on her heart. She loves just as deeply as Ori does but she’s quick to shout it from the rooftops, without a hint of fear.

Ori wishes she could be like that sometimes. 

“Something is up. I can tell by the smile you’re trying to hide!”

"I’m smiling because I was hungry and it was very thoughtful of you both.”  

Ori finally gets a look at Cassie’s costume when Cassie sheds her coat and she can’t help the surprised laugh that slips out. She’s in a white cotton dress that looked like it was made from one of those adult onesies, covered in glitter from head to toe and the rainbow leggings she has on matches the tail sticking out of the bottom of her coat and the mane on her hood she has pushed down. 

“What are you wearing?!” 

“What? I’m a sparkly unicorn. I look adorable!” 

Ori grins. 

“Yes, you do. You look beautiful.” 

The bell chimes again and Ori greets her brother without looking, he’s never far behind Cassie after all. Leo looked pretty much like he always does, slacks and a button-up white collared shirt under his coat but he was wearing black square-frame glasses. He leans over the mahogany counter and presses a kiss on Ori’s cheek. Whatever Cassie was hoping to get out of Ori would never happen now that Leo was present. Ori laughed at the pout on Cassie’s face, picking at the bagel as she scans over the invoice in front of her. 

“Ready for tonight?” Leo asks as he steals a piece of her bagel.

Ori shrugs a little, glancing at the clock and sighed when she saw it was nearing six. They would be pushing her out the door soon. It’s not that she didn’t like going out, she did. Things have been off lately and she hasn’t felt much like socializing, which is why her siblings insisted they have a party. If it turns out to be as terrible as she predicts it’s going to be, she can always call Bucky to pick her up because no matter what Bucky still drops everything to come to her rescue whenever she needs it. 

“It’s going to be fun!” 

“I guess. I’m not really a party person.”

“I know but you make the cutest cat ever.” 

Leo’s brow furrows and the worry on his face has him looking so much like Bucky it almost makes Ori laugh. 

“You’ve been working a lot. Skipping family stuff. When was the last time you came to family dinner and didn’t rush out the door? Mom said you’re working more hours than she is-”

“I should! She deserves time with dad and it’s not like I have a life waiting on me right now.” 

It’s been a little over a year since she called off her wedding and ended things with Cole and while she’s happy that relationship has ended, she’s nowhere near where she thought she would be at her age. She had plans and lists, milestones she promised herself she would hit by a certain age and now she’s… floating. No purpose. No real path. Simply riding her mother’s coattails, managing a store she wouldn’t have without her mother and she has no idea where she’s going or what her future is going to look like. It’s terrifying. So maybe she’s been spending a little more time at work to keep her mind busy. Sometimes it doesn't quite calm the chaos in her head, but staying busy helps. 

“That’s not true. You have us and, yeah, mom deserves a break but so do you. We thought it would be good to get out of the house. If you hate it I’ll bring you home.” 

Ori smiles. Leo has always been their protector, ready to jump in and save his mom and sisters from anything that could cause them the slightest bit of discomfort. She couldn't be aggravated with him for wanting to help, he’s only following in Bucky’s footsteps. 

“Yeah, okay. Today has been a mess. Give me a few minutes to wrap things up, okay?” 

She’s barely had time for her eyes to focus on the words in front of her when Cassie chirps from her side, “The window display is a mess. What happened there?” 

“Cassie!”

“I’m just saying. Want me to help you fix it tomorrow?”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Ori snatches the brown bag with her bagel resting on top and heads back towards the office in hopes she will be able to focus there, “and yes. I would like help. Thank you.”

“I’ll watch the desk!” Cassie shouts behind her, getting an appreciative smile from Ori. The quiet doesn’t last long. The shop bell is ringing and Cassie is yelling for her before she’s managed to make it through one invoice.  

“Ori! Get out here. There’s a delivery.” Cassie’s shouts are piercing her ears and she’s certain  the entire bakery next door can hear her clear as day. Ori steps back out onto the sales floor, frowning and having every intention of reminding Cassie not to scream in the store, but she can’t because she’s staring at the largest bundle of lavender she’s ever seen. 

“I-- this. What is this?” 

“They are for you!” Cassie squeals but quickly stops smiling and looks at the older gentleman who is wearing a warm smile when he confirms that they are indeed for her sister. 

“Yes, ma’am,” The man says with a chuckle, “If you’re Orion Barnes. These are for you.” 

He passes the delicate bundle wrapped in brown paper in her arm and passes over a pen for her signature. She quickly scribbles her name and pulls the small white card out of the twine, grinning foolishly at what’s written. 

“Who are they from?” Cassie begs, jumping up and down. “I already know but I need to see the card myself.” 

Ori presses the card to her chest to keep Cassie from sneaking a peek, she’s not willing to share a bit of the sweetness written there. Cassie quickly gives up on the card and snatches the receipt before Ori can grab it, finding exactly what she was looking for. 

“Theo Tucker! I knew it!” 

The thin paper is pulled from Cassie’s hand by Leo, who is staring at the receipt with a deep frown as if he can’t process what he is seeing. 

“Why is Theo sending you flowers? Where did he find a place that delivers lavender like that? More importantly… why is Theo sending you flowers?" 

Ori can’t answer her brother, she’s too busy grinning like a fool and hiding her blushing cheeks behind the soft purple sprigs in her arms. 

“What do you mean ‘Why is Theo sending her flowers?’ Because he loves her. Am I the only that’s been paying attention?” 

"He loves you. It's the same thing and you don’t get flowers.”

“It is a hundred percent not the same thing, Leo.”

There’s the faint sound of the twins arguing in the background, “How is it different?” “Leo you can’t be serious. You’ve seen the way he looks at her!” She should probably stop their bickering but she can’t. She can’t focus on anything, not while she’s daydreaming about California. 

Maybe it wasn’t the worst day, after all. 

“So, are you going to wear a sprig of lavender as your catnip? Seems like it added a little spring in your step.”  

“Cassie!” 

Cassie had squealed when Ori asked her to draw a cat nose and whiskers on her face. If she was going to dress as a cat she had to go all out. The ears, while cute, weren’t enough to satisfy the perfectionist in her. Before they left her apartment, she sent Theo a thank you text and a picture of her all dressed up. The simple response, you look beautiful, makes her stomach flip and leaves her head spinning. It drops a fraction when Leo asks why she’s smiling at her phone with such a goofy grin. 

No one is ready for that answer, so she tucked her phone in her purse for now. 

The minute they arrived, Leo stepped through the front door and pulled his shirt open to reveal a giant S stitched onto his blue undershirt and he proceeded to do several more times throughout the night. Despite her reservations about the party, it wasn’t so bad. Or maybe she was simply in a better mood. She spent a better part of the night hanging around Cassie and Ariel, who was dressed as Tinker Bell and her lovesick Peter Pan never strayed from her side for long. Ori didn’t know a lot of the people currently filling Leo and Ollie’s apartment, so it felt safer to stick by family. 

At some point a small group of people broke off from the larger party and started playing spin the bottle. It was strange to watch twenty year olds play a childhood game. There was bobbing for apples which didn’t seem all that sanitary if you asked Ori, which is why she declined rather emphatically when asked if she wanted to try. 

Halfway through the night their mom texted asking for pictures, so she took a few with Cassie and Ariel, some of her and Leo and of course all of them posing together. She even sent the few of Ariel and Ollie off to the Tuckers. Another text comes in but it’s not a response from her parents, a very handsome Indiana Jones pops up and she can’t help the huge smile that forms. He looks adorable with that hat and playful smirk and she tells him so. Ori peered over her phone to find Cassie and Ariel smiling, she cleared her throat and quickly hid her phone back in her purse. 

“Oh, look. There are some mummy cupcakes left. I better go grab one before they disappear,” Ori had muttered as she quickly tried to divert attention off of her. 

There was every Halloween themed treat you could think of. The chocolate covered strawberries dressed up as ghosts, bloody s’mores, and candy corn rice krispy treats were gone first. When Ori asked how they managed to do all this, Leo admitted with a sheepish grin that their mom had done most of the baking and Cassie and Ariel had decorated. She should have known Ariel had a hand in the planning, it was too well organized for Leo and Ollie to handle on their own. 

The party started to die down a little after one in the morning, Leo offered his bed but Cassie was already fast asleep and there was no way she was sharing with that human koala. After refusing to take Leo’s spot on the couch, Leo brought her back home with the promise to text him the minute he got back. There’s no way he would let her catch a cab back to her place all by herself. 

It’s nearly three by the time Ori trudges up the stairs to her apartment. She’s tired, but it’s a good kind of tired. Not that she will ever admit this to Cassie but tonight was fun. It wasn’t exactly where she wanted to be, and a very important someone was missing but it wasn’t as bad as she envisioned. She slips out of her heels and drops her purse on the table by the front door, she can clean up tomorrow when she’s not struggling to keep her eyes open. Right as she reaches kitchen island where her bouquet is sitting in her mother’s chipped mint green vase, her phone rings in her hand and she can’t help but grin at the name staring back at her. 

“Hey, you.”

Ori grins, dusting a finger over a stray sprig and she’s suddenly not feeling as tired.

“My day? You know, it wasn't so bad actually. It got better there at the end. Even better now.”