#just please click past it and carry on with your life instead of being mean about it

[allylikethecat]

Get excited! I actually finished another oneshot for tomorrow...

[beautifulpersonpeach]

BPP hi!

I know you said you'd rather not talk about this MHJ-Hybe case again but I'd kindly like to ask for an exception - can you please clarify a summary of the situation from a good OT7 ARMY on twitter?

https://x.com/BlueeDenise/status/1784923466371575819

Especially the conclusion of this ARMY that "So the "slave contract" narrative spread with tears by her is technically false, she just wanted more money indeed"

Thank you.

*

Ask 2:

BPP hi! I'm the anon that just asked if you can clarify the tweet from the Blue Denise page. I guess I'm just worried that MHJ is the biggest threat to BTS and I never saw this coming. k-netz are mocking BTS and ARMYs now since her press conference and it's organized just like HYBE said it would be. It's hard to think she's not secretly behind this after plotting with witchcraft to bring down BTS.

***

Sigh.

Your link. But I'll also paste it here to spare everyone a click.

So in short before all this; 1. HYBE gave her 20% shares 2. Bang PD our lover boy lent her MONEY so she could buy the shares (for a lower value as reported) 3. She then, didnt think it enough ofc, and asked for her share value to be increased to 30x, instead of 13x 4. Meaning her 18% shares would be worth 196M$ instead of the origianl 72M$ 5. Also requested for the clause, where 4.5% of her shares would be bound to her contract, to be changed. Again called it a "slave" contract as she'd require the approval of HYBE to sell --> which is also a common practice for shares to be not sold to competing companies and to bind her to a contract preventing her from carrying company information to rival companies 6. HYBE agreed to change the clause, and would treat the 4.5% as "put option", saying HYBE would buy back the shares if she wanted to dispose of them. That way her contract too would end if she wished to 7. But HYBE didnt agree to OVER-VALUE her existing shares 8. 2 didnt agree -->So the "slave contract" narrative spread with tears by her is technically false, she just wanted more money indeed

*

It's tempting to tear this apart in finspeak, but clearly this isn't the audience for that, so I'll just say it this way -

I've not seen the contract, I don't have information beyond what HYBE has leaked and what Min Heejin said in her press conference. Based on that information:

In March 2023, HYBE offered MHJ a 20% stake in ADOR at a 'low' valuation relative to market prices. Of that 20% it appears she negotiated a transfer of 2% to the two other key management executives on ADOR's board (1% each), leaving her with 18%. Her shareholder contract with HYBE expires in November 2026.

Her contract states that she can divest her 18% shares at a sales multiple of 13x LFY OCFPS, based on recent prices this could amount to ~100 bln KRW - a price that HYBE considers to be more than generous. ~13.5% of her shares can be exercised as a put option starting roughly 3 years after her tenure begins at ADOR, which means it would be from Q4 2024.

HYBE however also included two clauses in the contract which amount to a 'poison pill', that Min Heejin appears to have discovered after the fact.

These include:

4.5% of these shares cannot be sold to HYBE without their approval. This clause doesn't expire in November 2026 when her shareholder agreement ends.

So long as she holds those shares, she is subject to a non-compete and non-solicitation clause that bans her from working in any capacity anywhere in the world.

Usually, non-competes are tied to preferred shares, rather than common shares, but even then, the non-compete clauses are usually termed with a set date to expire. However, if Min Heejin is to be believed, it appears HYBE has structured her agreement such that they can refuse to give her 'permission' to sell the shares, indefinitely banning her from being able to work for anyone else for the rest of her life.

Based on MHJ's comments, it also appears that after the meteoric success of NewJeans in 2022 through 2023, Bang PD tried looking for ways to have more creative and managerial control over NewJeans, which only led to more clashes between him and Min Heejin.

With increasing clashes between herself and HYBE upper management, she appears to have tried to counter the 'poison pill' in two ways:

Negotiate to raise the sales multiple on the put options to make it harder for HYBE to take any extraordinary measures. HYBE says she wanted to raise it from 13x to 30x, implying a price increase of 170 bln KRW.

Negotiate to separate the non-compete clause from the permission clause.

This means, if HYBE knows that they'll have to pay her at least 100 bln KRW and as much as 270 bln KRW (i.e. 13x to 30x LFY OCFPS) if she chooses to exercise her options at any time, it makes them less likely to overstep. Music labels are typically valued on an NPS or EBITDA basis, but the latter can be used as a proxy for OCFPS. Some of the biggest labels usually trade between 15x to 25x EBITDA, but some years it's higher depending on the LFY profit and projected cashflows. Given NewJeans is already the 2nd most highly valued IP in Korea 2 years into their career under MHJ's management, it's easy to see how their value could justify a 30x valuation in the right market and with the right arguments. It's the perfect insurance against HYBE to prevent them from working to gain more creative control over NewJeans.

So, it's in MHJ's best interest to continue working to negotiate with HYBE rather than try to break away from them, given the 'poison pill'. Regardless of everything listed in the so-called 'HYBE's sins' document made by Shin Donghoon (VP L), no option or strategy listed there could actually free her from the ramifications of that poison pill clause. And I believe she knows that, which is why she said HYBE's implication that she'd actually try to execute it is beyond insane.

Based on the current HYBE contract, if an executive/director is prematurely dismissed due to "a fault of their own making", then HYBE doesn't have to honour their agreement. They don't even have to pay her the initial ~100 bln KRW, if they can justify dismissing her 'based on a fault of her own'.

Meaning, the only party that stands to benefit from MHJ supposedly acting on the 'revealed plan' to try to break away from HYBE... is HYBE.

*

Still -

HYBE knows that their legal basis for a premature dismissal is tenuous at best because Min Heejin has grounds to contest both her contract and her dismissal in court. They know if they were to do this the right way and keep everything above board, because this is Korea they will likely win in the end, but the case would stretch out likely for months during which they will suffer reputational damage and it would cost money. Min Heejin will bear similar losses, but HYBE clearly has more to lose in the short-term.

So they went for a gutter-fight. Preemptively launch an audit 'based on a tip-off' and at the same time unleash a barrage of mediaplay articles with clinically incendiary material like saying 'MHJ thinks BTS copied her'. To assure shareholders, HYBE launched a group that is similar enough to NewJeans to appeal to a similar market, debuted the group just before NewJeans began their slate of 2024 comebacks, and launched their attack on Min Heejin also before NewJeans began their comebacks - damaging their earnings potential given HYBE has inflamed k-pop stans with proof that MHJ is indeed a witch out to get their faves. This way, NewJeans loses appeal as fandoms turn against them, MHJ loses credibility as a manager and a creative, and in all the noise HYBE can pressure her to agree to a premature dismissal.

Cue everything that's happened since then.

This dispute is really about control and ego. And it's personal.

*

BTS is envied in Korea by a lot of chronically online people (which is synonymous with them being hated), and ARMYs are despised by the vast majority of k-pop stans both in Korea and internationally. The initial claims of payola for HYBE groups started from a blind from an assumed HYBE employee who attacked Min Heejin for being entitled and that all NewJeans' accomplishments were gained through support from HYBE. K-pop stans in classic fashion, misread it and took "support" to mean "payola" and that if a HYBE employee had confirmed HYBE did payola for NewJeans, then of course they'd do it for other HYBE groups. An Exol posted screenshots saying HYBE was the reason EXO didn't win awards in 2017 and that they did payola for BTS. ARMYs, in typical tit-for-tat fashion, created their own screenshots manipulating parts of Min Heejin's comments to claim the reverse for Big 3 groups. Those screenshots made it over to the k-side which showed ARMYs to be a group of unintelligent manipulative assholes who are foot soldiers for Bang PD, further increasing sympathy for Min Heejin. As it usually is with hate campaigns in k-pop, in all the noise people take advantage, and given what we've seen over the last 10 years, there's no shortage of people desperate to take advantage when it comes to anything related to BTS.

This hate campaign would've happened regardless of whether it was Min Heejin involved or not. But positioning MHJ as the culprit, serves HYBE's purposes in this particular case, regardless of whether it's true or not, and I'm sure all the parties involved know this.

MHJ is not the biggest threat to BTS, their fandom is. ARMYs are the biggest threat to BTS - the fandom is BTS's biggest strength and weakness.

From the very beginning of this scandal, I've said this looks and smells like one thing and one thing only to me. K-pop stans are ridiculously easy to manipulate because the fact is, most of these people have no idea what they're talking about. But there's nobody more invested, more quick to outrage and indignation, more obsessed, than a typical k-pop stan. So in short, this is a circus of idiots.

That Blue Denise account is an idiot. In my opinion.

[nevada-wrytes]

Chapter 2 - The Saddest Pep Rally

Content warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, and funerals; insensitivity/jokes about said topics.

If you want to read the previous chapter click here. The next chapter will be linked here.

“18 year old girl dead from toxic gas after being found mixing cleaning chemicals at home.”

Raven ran faster than his legs could carry him. Oh fuck fuck fuck.

“Police are still investigating whether this was an accident or attempted suicide. Family and friends have been asked to report any erratic behavior exhibited by the victim before her death.”

No, this cannot be happening!

His lungs burned, but he pushed himself further. Just a little further. He was almost there-

“Could this be a new dangerous fad for teenagers? If so, parents watch out for your kids. Regardless, we here at the news station offer our condolences to the family. We have been informed a funeral will take place today at three. And with that, on to the weather-”

“You’re late.”

Raven came spinning to a stop, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He checked his watch.

“It’s only— three ten. That’s ten minutes.”

Dahlia crossed her arms and huffed. “Whatever I guess.” Then she laughed. “I’m just teasing you, come on, let’s go.”

Raven looked up, confused, but then shrugged and happily joined her. Today was a nice day, the sun was out, the birds were singing, and they were cheerfully walking to a funeral.

Oh, yeah. The funeral.

There's been an abnormal amount of death in this sleepy little town over the past few weeks, and with that came the abnormal flocks of ravens descending from the skies. A storm was brewing on the horizon, and it was only a matter of time before it descended.

But that was paranoid talk! Raven, surely, was not paranoid and he should, in fact, stop thinking about these things before he willed them into existence. Just because this was the third teenage suicide-related death in two weeks doesn't mean there is any danger. Right?

School was closed on this Thursday because of the funeral for Margaret Portsly. She had been the class president or something? And apparently that was a big deal because the entire student body was expected to attend. The principal was even going to make a speech!

"Oh my fucking god Raven. Please look a little more upset. You're practically skipping."

Raven stopped in his tracks, embarrassment flooding his face. "'M sorry."

Dahlia muttered an automatic response and pulled at her black dress. Raven had laughed when she pulled out the moth-eaten thing from the back of her closet but she said it was the only thing she had in full black.

Apparently death was not a popular visitor in her life, and for that Raven considered her incredibly lucky.

She checked her phone. "Okay well, it's another like ten minutes to the football field, so hopefully we'll have missed Dr. Lehoree's stupid speech by then. God, I hope this ends quickly. I heard they're serving good sandwiches after."

Raven laughed. Dahlia didn't care about the girl either, but her mom was like a cousin with her aunt? or something? so it would be awkward not to come.

It was a confusing family relationship, and that was saying something coming from him.

The football field was decorated in black streamers and balloons and giant posters with the prez's face. It felt fake, tacky, and screamed we're going to make a show out of this girl's death so we can further police teenagers' lives.

Raven had a bad feeling as he and Dahlia walked up the cold bleachers to a spot at the top with the least amount of people. Some adults cast them dirty looks for their tardiness but none of the other students seemed to give a shit. They were all cold and miserable that they had to spend their day off here instead of scrolling on their phones at home. Somehow their mood was enough to make the sun shine a little less brighter.

"Damn, they really went all out." Dahlia pointed to where the girl's family sat, stone-faced and huddled together in their own section of the bleachers which held an overabundance of flowers, enough to give a person a block away pollen allergies for life.

Another student turned around and spoke, "I heard they spent our entire winter formal budget on this. Such a public school thing to do."

He and Dahlia shared a nod before he turned back to the DS in his frozen hands.

That was the mood for the majority of the ceremony. Most people felt this was a big waste of money and time and that the school was being insensitive and should have just let the family mourn in peace. Everyone was, however, very glad when the student government appeared with thermoses full of hot chocolate for all.

Warmed by hot chocolate, Raven was able to mill around and talk when spoken to and make up excuses as to why he was never in class (My goldfish died or bowel-movement problems or wouldn't you like to know, weather boy). He enjoyed his first mass public funeral and wanted to know when the next one would be. Dahlia laughed, she thought he was joking.

At the end of the event, it was sneakily announced that there was a small ("small" was in air quotes) get together ("get together" was also in air quotes) for those wanting to honor ("honor" was also in air quotes) the memory of Margaret. Anyone was invited, except the adults, it seemed.

Dahlia was cool with going, since tomorrow was Senior Skip Day at school anyways (it seemed everyday was Senior Skip Day) and she dragged Raven along like the saddest most pathetic wet cat.

Raven tried to convince her that an excuse for highschoolers to get drunk and break stuff was a very bad idea but she told him to get the stick out of his ass.

Pride wounded, he agreed. He pretended to ignore the unkindness of ravens gathering on the branches of hollow, grey trees.

The sun had completely disappeared behind a sea of blank, swirly clouds.

"Today's forecast calls for a sunny morning, but don't be fooled by the pleasantries! The afternoon will be overcast with an eighty percent chance of rain by seven. Bring your umbrellas folks! It'll be stormy..."

Tag list: (asked to be added or removed)

@thebonecarver @victorfrankingstein @confused-as-all-hell @iambecomeyourvillain @brekkercookie @fallen-from-olympus @purpl-cryptid @reyyya @thecurlychameleon @naz-yalensky @thesexypanda-boo @kazoo-the-demjin @twelve-kinds-of-trouble @robbiinn

[musicloverxoxo7]

Don’t you dare make a sound – featuring Jimin

Non-idol!Jimin   x   fem!reader

Summary: Jimin loves playing with you. And he won’t stop it just because he gets an important call.

Themes/warnings: AU, smut with a bit of plot, unprotected sex, nipple play, blindfolding, handcuffs, handjob, Jimin is a bit dominant, established relationship

Wordcount: ca. 1.5k

Disclaimer: 18+, DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18

I do not own BTS. They merely inspire me. None of this is related to their persons in real life.

You’re pretty sure it’s a feather that’s being traced over your stomach. Softly enough for you to feel it, but not in a way that tickles. Which is an artform. One that Jimin has mastered.

The feather moves up your body and to your chest. You simultaneously want to tear off the blindfold to watch Jimin and keep it on.

Not that you can tear it off since you’re tied to the bedframe.

The feather moves to your nipple and gets stroked over it very gently. You arch your back to get more of it. It gets withdrawn.

“Bad girl. Why can’t you just keep still, honey?”

“Next time I’ll tie you up and tease you with a feather. Then we’ll see if you can keep still.”

“You know I can.”

Of course, you know that he can, but you would never admit it. You take a deep breath and stay still until the feather returns.

You want to squirm so badly, but you don’t. You bite your lip instead as goosebumps race over your skin.

“You like that, baby?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Are you cold?”

“No.”

Jimin had turned up the heating before he’d kissed you senseless on the sofa, carried you into the bedroom and stripped you. You’d let him do nearly anything if it means he savors and worships your body like this.

Jimin takes the feather away. You bite down harder on your lip so as not to whine.

“My good girl.”

Jimin must be sitting up because his voice sounds far away. You hear the rustling of fabric. Moments later, his chest comes to rest on your stomach. You can feel his skin on yours. He’s finally ditched the shirt.

He kisses up from your belly button to your chest.

“You can make all the sounds and squirm as much as you want now, honey.”

With that, his mouth latches onto your nipple. A whimper slips past your lips.

You sling your legs around his torso. He’s ditched the pants but is still wearing underwear. How much you’d love to touch more of him.

Jimin rolls your nipple in his mouth, sucking gently. Your head drops back as you squirm under him.

“Jiminah…”

He lets go of your nipple and chuckles. You whine when he blows on your sensitive nipple. It feels torturous and really nice at the same time.

“You like that?”

“Goodness, yes. Just continue, please.”

“Say that again.”

“Please, Jiminah. Please, continue.”

“I love when you start begging, baby.”

His mouth latches onto your other nipple. He does things with his tongue that have you seeing stars and writhing under him within minutes.

“Do you want to cum for me, honey?”

“Yes, uh, yes please, babe.”

Jimin lifts his hips and brings his index finger to your clit. His mouth returns to your other nipple. You dig your heels into his back as you come apart, bucking your hips into his hand.

Jimin lets go of your nipple with a pop. Your hips keep moving with the after waves of the high as Jimin disappears entirely.

Moments later the handcuffs click open, and the blindfold is opened and pulled away. You blink a few times so your eyes adjust to the low light.

Jimin is standing next to the bed, putting away the items, smirking down at you. He pulls a bottle of lube out of the drawer. You sit up.

“You want more, honey?”

Your eyes wander down to the front of his underwear, which is bulging. You bite your lip. You want to touch.

“I do, yes.”

“Go ahead. You can pull them down if you want.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You run your hands up his thighs. His muscles are strong under your touch. His stomach muscles tense, the more you move upwards.

You run your flat hand over his bulge while look up at him. His full lips are slightly parted. He looks down at you with his dark eyes nearly black.

You do it again.

His hand closes over yours and applies more pressure. You smile up at him. His eyes are closed, his head leaned back.

Instead of keeping up the teasing, you pull down his underwear and grip his length. His eyes shoot open.

“Baby”, now it’s his turn to whine.

You take the lube bottle from him and open it one handed. You let go of his dick for a moment and put some lube onto your palm. Then your hand returns. He’s leaking precum. You rub the lube up his dick. It glides much better in your hand this way.

“Honey”, Jimin moans. His eyes are closed again as you keep going.

“I want you in me, babe.”

Jimin’s eyes snap open comically fast.

You let go of him and tumble backwards on the bed.

“How do you want me, honey?”

You go on all fours and stick your butt up.

“Like this.”

Jimin scrambles onto the bed and aligns himself. He runs his dick over your slit.

You hear a clicking sound as he opens the lube bottle again. His dick is gone for a moment before it returns, gliding over you and rubbing against your clit. Your eyes roll backwards.

His free hand squeezes your butt.

“My pretty baby”, he mumbles. It clearly isn’t meant for you to hear, but you do. It makes you feel all warm inside.

Jimin aligns himself and slowly pushes his head into you. You move one of your hands to play with your clit. His girth is always a bit of an adjustment.

He pulls out again, making you feel empty. You whine. Jimin chuckles. He dips into you again, before pulling out another time.

“Jiminah!”

“Yes, honey?” You hear the smile in his voice.

“Put your dick in me already. All of it!”

“I like it when you tell me what you want.”

“Well, are you going to do it?”

“How could I resist such a cute, bossy lady?”

Finally, he pushes in all the way. You sigh. It feels so nice. After a few seconds he starts moving. His thrusts are slow, deep and smooth, as if he had all the time in the world. It feels heavenly.

Something vibrates under your elbow. You remove your hand from your clit. Pulling back the blanket a little and find Jimin’s phone. He must have dropped it during your tumble in the sheets.

“Baby, not now.”

“You might want to take this.”

You hand him the phone. He glances at the display and draws a grimace.

“I do have to take this. Don’t you dare make a sound.”

Before you can answer, he has picked up the phone.

“Yes, sir. I’ve been expecting your call.”

As he starts talking about business and listening to the other person, his thrusts find their slow, deep rhythm again. It makes you claw at the sheets. You start playing with your clit again.

Jimin’s honey voice, speaking in a low, firm tone, doesn’t help. He speaks like that with you during sex sometimes.

You press your mouth against your forearm, so no sounds escape.

You tense up as your walls start contracting more around Jimin. He must feel it too because he’s taking deep breaths while the other person is talking.

Your whole body tenses up as its hit with another orgasm. Jimin’s movements falter for a few moments before he finds his groove again. You sigh.

“No, sir, I am not currently at work and do not have access to that file at home. I will send it first thing tomorrow morning.”

You start moving your hips back against Jimin’s. You want him to go faster.

“Thank you. Have a nice evening.”

Jimin hangs up and throws the phone down on the bed.

“What were you thinking, baby? Moving like that. I nearly lost it.”

“I wanted you to go faster.”

“You’re going to drive me insane one of these days”, he grumbles, but complies.

His hips speed up as he drives into you hard and fast. His breath comes in pants.

“You didn’t make a single sound, though.”

“You told me not to”, you whine as you start squeezing him again.

“Goodness… I love how you always find the loopholes. My little smarty.”

Your giggle turns into a moan. You press your forehead into your arm to stay upright as Jimin drills into you.

“I can’t… I can’t…”, you whine.

“I’m almost there too, honey.”

You let go and slump forward a little. The orgasm makes you squeeze so much Jimin can barely move inside of you. He follows you over the edge with a few more thrusts.

You collapse and Jimin lowers himself down on top of you, still inside you.

“It’s weird, but the phone call wasn’t that much of a turn-off.”

“Yeah, surprised me too.”

He strokes aside your hair and kisses your cheek.

“I love you, baby.”

“And I love you, Jiminah.”

© musicloverxoxo7, 2022

Please do not copy, translate, or repost my work. Doing so will make you legally liable for stealing intellectual property.

[cjsinkythoughts]

In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day. 

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.” 

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

****************

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. 

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

*****************

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

~

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

~

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

[lavendermin]

from sea of flowers, garden of eternity | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

word count | 2k

genre | pwp, fluff, light angst, brief smut

note | glaze lily spirit reader, you are also in perpetual pain I’m sorry

“Xiao…” he hears your voice meekly call.

The adeptus is already on his feet before you can fully enter the room, his eyes quickly focused on you. He scans your body language diligently, looking for signs of pain or discomfort. It’s become a routine by now.

“Are you…?” His voice trails off when you shake your head apologetically. The slight strain in your smile doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m alright for now. The pains haven’t started yet. I think I’m set for another few hours, a day if I’m lucky,” you reassure him. “I just— wanted to check on you.”

Xiao gives you a blank look, one you recognize as confusion. “Check… on me…?”

“Just to see how you’re doing,” you clarify with a shy smile. As you make your way to sit on the bed, you gently pat the space next to you.

There’s a slight red upon his cheeks as he chooses to take up your invitation. The bed dips under his weight, and words do not need to be spoken to know both your minds drift briefly to past trysts that took place where you sit.

“I’m heading out to patrol the area in an hour. If you need anything at all, speak my name,” Xiao announces quietly. It’s a brief awkward silence as he rigidly sits next to you—tense almost. You answer him with a simple nod, hands absentmindedly rubbing little circles on your legs to ease the tingles of pain that slowly resurfaced.

Conversation was scarce the past few months you were placed into his watchful guard. The relationship you both harbored was a blurred line you tried not to think about too much for fear of over-complicating it.

And with your entire being, you could say you came to the unfortunate doom of falling in love with him. The emotional distance he kept oftentimes only confused you as much as your own emotions left him puzzled and a little flustered.

He kept you alive. That was the simplicity of the details Xiao was given. Perhaps it was a favor he was doing you, but he diligently carried it out with all the steadfastness of a contract bestowed onto him by the former Lord of Geo.

—

“I’m sure you are aware of the situation near Qingce Village,” Zhongli had brought up upon summoning Xiao several moons after the stirrings of a slumbering god.

Though the situation was previously dire, all was settled—Xiao knew this as a fact, for he was the one that swiftly took care of the aftermath of a dormant god’s power seeping through the earth. So, the battle hadn’t ended then…

“I was careless—“

Zhongli cut him off, carefully setting down his cup in its saucer. “On the contrary, this was in no way able to be foreseen by you. The world has a way of ending and raising new questions, just as easily as it provides answers to those who seek them.”

On the small garden table, Zhongli’s eyes trail to the glaze lily that sits in a small decorative vase. Unlike most, this lone flower is fully bloomed despite the time of day. It glows ever so slightly—weakly almost.

“You are aware that glaze lilies grow in the Qingce area, and there are a few wild outcroppings that shy away from prying eyes,” Zhongli starts.

His gloved finger reaches out to tenderly graze the petals, and at once the flower closes up. The petals take on a dullness, and visibly they start to wilt in small patches.

“The reasons are uncertain, but rumor spread around the village of a wandering ghost that followed the moon aimlessly. A spirit born of glaze lilies appeared after the battle that took place near there. It seems the power seeped deep into cracked earth among the flowerbeds.”

The young adeptus remained quiet, taking in the information. What exactly did this have to do with him, he wondered?

With a hint of apprehension, Xiao asks, “This spirit—has it taken on a malevolent nature?”

Instead of answering straight away, Zhongli wordlessly stands and makes his way back indoors. Xiao obediently follows, curious of the nature of this spirit.

“Nothing of the sort. However, these glaze lilies fell victim to the corruption of your karmic debt and at the same time were nurtured by immense adeptal power. There is a wavering balance that must be kept, for her body is as fragile as a flower’s and cannot withstand the depletion and shifts of adeptal energy.” With graceful steps, Zhongli stops before a door. “No other adeptus has successfully remained compatible with the energy she needs. So far it has only brought excruciating pain for her, and I fear she may die at this rate.”

With a silent nod, Xiao processes this information. His gloved hand is unmoving on the door handle.

“What are the terms of this contract,” Xiao silently asks, amber eyes trained on the door in front of him.

“My time has long passed to give you a new contract, Adeptus Xiao.” Zhongli chuckles fondly at the serious habits of the adeptus before him. “This is a choice I am giving you. It may take centuries for her body to adjust to the adeptal power she now harbors. If she is compatible with you, it is up to you to decide whether you supply her with your adeptal energy, otherwise she may not make it past next week.”

Xiao remains quiet for a brief moment before speaking softly, “Her body is tearing itself apart…”

“Correct.”

There’s something in that fact that stirs feelings Xiao isn’t used to in his chest. He accepts, and the first memory of you that adorns his mind is one that clenches his heart in a way he rarely experiences. The pain that twists and contorts your face as you desperately heave, body seemingly tearing itself apart in a way the naked eye cannot see.

You’re a beautiful tragedy born of moonlight and sweet soil. And in that moment when your eyes meet his, a single tear rolls down your cheek. He cannot fathom the thought of letting your life end as quickly as it began.

The door behind him clicks shut, and he takes your fragile life into his hands.

—

The lights of the house are dim—a subtle golden glow against a comforting darkness in the blanket of night. A meadow of glaze lilies surrounds the little cottage in a sea of fragrance. A prominent mark of your abode.

The little house defended by mountains is secluded, one which Zhongli sent to be made for you while your body stabilizes.

And though the exterior is tranquil, within its walls come soft pants and gasps. Xiao’s brows are knit together in concentration as he ruts against you.

“Please—Ah…nnh a–again,” you beg against your trembling body’s protests.

And he wordlessly complies, folding your legs until your knees are practically at the sides of your head. His hips pick up the pace and his thrusts become desperate, bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. The moans you let out are loud—obscene as he fills you up until you’re overflowing. The pains have long subsided, and you choose to let him overcompensate in giving you the energy that will get you by another few days.

In the serene calm of night, the tranquility is drowned out by the squelching sounds of your bodies meeting each other through desperate thrusts as both of you are sent over the edge. His name falls from your lips in a melody Xiao has grown addicted to. For the nth time that night you come undone beneath him, your essence stabilized.

There’s a swelling warmth in your chest that blooms like spring meadows as Xiao buries his face in the crook of your neck. The tips of his ears are a bright scarlet and though he tries to control it, he is still left a breathless mess as he rides out his orgasm.

“Is it…enough?” Xiao asks between pants, his cock still buried deep within you.

He’s still twitching within you and your entire body shudders with delight at the feeling.

“You… haah—can keep… going if you want,” you offer weakly. There’s a dazed look in your half-lidded eyes that makes Xiao’s chest squeeze. “‘M full but you’re still…”

Hard.

You glance down to where you two are still joined together, the view of his come leaking out of you shamelessly sending heat between your legs again. The tips of Xiao’s ears turn bright red though he tries to remain composed.

“I’ll be fine. You should get some rest to preserve the energy longer.”

He pulls out and ignores the way your eyes look away dejectedly. Before he can stand to go, your hand gently tugs him back down. Xiao allows himself to be pulled against you, his head resting in the valley of your naked chest.

“Stay with me for a bit?”

Xiao doesn’t answer right away, and your heart leaps when he lets out a little sigh and agrees.

“Alright.”

The minutes tick by in tranquil silence. Both tired bodies ignore the sticky feeling of sweat and sex. It’s a feeling you’re both quite used to by now.

“Xiao?” you start quietly after a while. He hums in response, your fingers running through his dark hair soothingly. “Can I kiss you?”

The question is soft, self-conscious almost with the fear of rejection. But you were beyond a breaking point. The feelings were welling up in your chest like a high tide as you felt him tense up at your question.

Sex was common—quite often as a means of easily transferring adeptal energy to you. And because it was a painful process to take in, you found that this method dulled the pain through the twisted pleasures and mixed sensations.

But that’s all it was— a means to keep you alive. You could never say there was a time Xiao kissed you and he always showed restraint in touching your body more than necessary. His bodily needs were never foremost on his mind and he would never tell you how his hands ached to roam your body, how this arrangement became an illusion of a different reality he couldn’t have. And so he locked away his emotions for his own sake.

Xiao lifted his face from your chest, his golden eyes wide with momentary confusion—perhaps even shock. And your face… those wonderful sparkling eyes that glistened with glossy tears on the brink of rolling down your face. He wished he wasn’t the reason you were crying.

In an instant he propped himself up on his forearms, feeling you lightly tremble beneath him from holding back the urge to cry. A quiet hiccup left you as you were overwhelmed by bottled up feelings all at once, his thumb gently brushing your tears away.

“Why?” was all he asked.

Though it was a genuine question, his actions remained tender and calmed the anxiety that gripped your naive heart.

“Because I love you—because I think I love you.”

Quietly you hiccuped beneath him and Xiao gently rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“Then love me if it makes you happy,” he responds softly. The tears that twinkle down your face like falling stars are gently kissed away by his soft lips. “I’m with you until the day I die, and if loving me makes living less painful for you then use me as an anchor to reality.”

Your soft crying is hushed as Xiao presses a tender kiss to your lips. It’s short and just enough to bloom your heart with newfound emotions you had yet to experience. Perhaps you reminded the adeptus of himself in a simpler time—naive, innocent. For that, he took pity on you, and also fell deeply in love with you though he would not know it for a long time.

Simply put, he wouldn’t allow himself to know it.

The flowers that surround the small house glow and dance in the night breeze. They bloom with your newfound knowledge—heartache.

[deepdarkdelights]

Lady of The Night (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 13.3k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Victorian Era, Time Travel, Misogyny, Jack The Ripper Murders, Forced Relationships, Forced Stripping and Dressing, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of dead bodies, Depictions of a corpse, Depictions of Wounds, Use of Drugs, Illicit Behaviors 

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

Preview:  You had been plunged backwards through time for a reason, and maybe this was the reason. This was the world’s most infamous cold case. What were the chances that a journalist would slip through the cracks in time and stumble into the East End of 1891? The only conclusion you could draw was that you were meant to identify who the ripper was. 

You knew nothing about time travel regardless of the pop culture you had consumed. For all you knew, changing the events of the past would not create a ripple effect but instead a branch. And, as horrifying as this scenario was, your curiosity was going to get the better of you. You needed to know, even if it meant following around the egotistical self proclaimed genius that had sheltered you. 

A/N: Yay! It’s my first fic up after my two week break! So, this is pertaining to the Jack The Ripper Murders. For storytelling purposes, the timeline of events has been altered as well as details of the crimes. This story may not be for everyone so please read the warnings and take them into consideration before reading. Your mental health and wellbeing should always be your number one priority. That being said, I hope you enjoy! 💜💜💜

You could see your blurry reflection in the glass of the watch face you held in your hands. 

You wiped away your tears with the heel of your palm violently as you sniffled tiredly. It had been a long day. 

You were coming to terms with the fact that you were the last living member of your family, everyone else had died and moved on. Your mother had been young when she had you, but she was also young when she left you. Mere moments after you had been given life and were brought into the world, she had departed shortly after. 

All you had ever known was the warm, comforting embrace of your grandfather. He had been more like your father your entire life and now he had left too. And all you had to remember him by was his old, Victorian house, some grainy photographs, and his pocket watch. 

Today had been the day you learned of his last will and testament, and he had left you everything he had ever owned, especially that pocket watch. He had carried it everywhere with him for as long as you could remember, the long, silver chain neatly clipped to his vest at all times. He would often remove the watch from his pocket, swiping his thumb over the sealed lid fondly before flicking it open and tracking the time. He had never once been late to anything, something he bragged about often. 

If you closed your eyes, you could visualize a scene that was not unfamiliar to you. You would be seated on the floor in a pile of pillows by the fireplace, the flames crackling and emanating a comforting warmth. The scent of black cherry tobacco wafting under your nose as your grandfather settled a thick book on his knees, pausing his reading aloud to puff at his tobacco pipe. You would giggle happily, wrapping your quilt tighter around your body as you watched him attempt to blow smoke rings. He would then slip his hand into his pocket and remove the watch, the chain clinking about as he flipped the watch open. 

“It’s almost half past nine, don’t you have school tomorrow?” He would ask you, raising one eyebrow in questioning. 

You, at ten years old, were familiar with what this meant, and you absolutely refused to head up those creaky stairs to bed when the two of you were in the middle of embarking on an adventure. 

“Please, just one more chapter!” You would beg, eyes wide and watery with a pout settled on your lips. 

“Alright,” He would concede after a long pause of faux thinking, “We do have time, don’t we?”

But that's where your grandfather was wrong. You didn’t have nearly enough time. You were twenty two when time came and took a hold of your grandfather and left you in the dust. That was the thing about time, it moved quickly and was unforgiving. Twenty two years was not enough, you were far too young when you said your last goodbyes. 

Fuck, and now you were crying again. 

You laughed humorlessly to yourself, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and wiping your tears away again. Crying would do you no good, he would want you to be happy. Death did not mean the end of a life, it meant the celebration of one, was something he had once told you. 

It was time to start celebrating then. 

You uncorked a bottle of wine, throwing the cork into the sink and having a staring match with a wine glass before you sighed and grabbed the bottle by its neck and left the room. You lit the fireplace before sitting down in your grandfather’s chair, throwing a leg up on his ottoman and taking a swig from the bottle. That made you feel a little better. 

You tilted your head back before turning your face into the fabric, the scent of black cherry tobacco still clung to the chair. Your eyes burned again with unshed tears as you nestled your head closer to it, breathing the scent in deeply before taking a longer swig of wine from the bottle. You were sure you looked pathetic. 

You groaned in irritation, the last thing you had wanted to do was throw yourself a pity party yet here you were, drowning your problems in wine like a young mom who is questioning why she didn’t use protection. 

You sat up, grabbing the neck of the bottle and setting it on the side table before standing up on weak knees. It was too weird being in that room without him. You weren’t ready to move on so quickly. So, you killed the fire and shuffled up the creaky stairs and headed to your bedroom down the hall. 

Once the door clicked shut behind you, you flung your clothes off into the corner of the room and grabbed an old, large, band shirt you tended to use as pajamas. After you slipped the raggedy fabric over your head you slid beneath your sheets, fisting the comforter in your hand and pulling it up to your nose. 

You could see the silver of the watch glinting under the moonlight on your night stand. Without much thought you reached across your bed and grabbed it, pulling it under the blanket with you. You  twirled the delicate chain around your fingers as you pressed the latched watch to your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut as sleep tugged at your mind. But, despite that, your head was still filled with the memories of him that you tried to shake away.

You missed him, and you wanted to go back and see him again. 

~~~~~~~

When you woke up the next morning, it was to the smell of warm food wafting throughout the house. In your delirium you rolled over and buried your face into your pillow, you were sure it was just your grandfather whipping something up. 

And then you were jolting awake. There were two things you knew: one, your grandfather was a terrible cook who considered spam as breakfast, and two: he was dead. 

You shot up in bed, your sheets pooling around your waist as you cocked your head towards the door, listening in silence. You could faintly hear the sound of pots and pans clinking and the clacking of heels along the wood floor of the hallway. 

Someone was in the house. 

You snatched your phone from your bedside table and slipped free from the warmth of your bed. The pocket watch swung into your thigh, the chain still wrapped around your fingers from the night before. You kept your phone on the ready, prepared to dial the emergency line in seconds. 

When you opened the door you stuck your head out into the hallway, swinging it from right to left. You couldn’t see anybody, but the scent of food had gotten stronger. 

You allowed your door to swing shut behind you, the knob clicking with an air of finality. The floorboards were cold beneath your bare feet as you made your way down the stairs, dodging each squeaky board from years of practice. You knew this house like the back of your hand. 

Once you had descended the stairs you found yourself in the first floor hallway, the kitchen door to your right. Your eyes fluttered shut and you took in a deep breath before tensing your body with determination and flinging the door open so hard that it slammed against the wall. 

A cry of shock echoed through the kitchen, the clash of pot and pans forcing a scream from your throat in response. Standing in front of you was what appeared to be a maid, her wispy brown hair tied into a bun at the base of her neck beneath a hat matching the long black dress and crisp white apron she donned. She looked like she had been pulled straight out of the nineteenth century. 

The two of you stared at each other in shock for a moment after your scream had died down and fizzled out. Her hand laid limply on her chest over her heart as her shoulders heaved with surprised breaths. 

Her gaze flickered up and down your form, her cheeks quickly reddening at your state of undress. 

“I cannot believe this!” She suddenly cried, throwing down the spatula she held in her other hand. “I’ve told the young master numerous times to stop consorting with heathens like yourself!”

“Heathen?” You echoed in confusion. “Hold on, what the fuck are you doing in my house?!”

“In your home? The audacity! You lay with the young master once and you believe yourself to be the lady of the estate? I will not have a harlot like you traipsing around!” She yelled back. 

“Lady, what the fuck are you on? You’re the one who broke into my house! Get out!” You screamed. 

“Emmett, Emmett come quickly! The young master let in another stray!” She called.

In a matter of seconds a man entered the room dressed in a three piece suit and gloves, he looked much like a butler. 

“Again? This is the third one this month, Mary.” He sighed in disgust, eyeing your form. “The indecency of this one, running around naked.”

You were speechless, all you could do was dumbly look down at your bare legs. The shirt you wore was fairly big, it covered everything important. Still, you grabbed at the hem and harshly pulled it down further, your mouth agape at his words. 

“Come now...miss. It’ll do you little good to linger here, we wouldn’t want to get the authorities mixed up in this, they aren’t fond of your kind as you know I’m sure.” 

You couldn’t think of anything to say until he approached you, gripping your arm roughly and tugging you out of the kitchen. 

“Get your fucking hands of off me, fucker!” You yelled, struggling to free yourself from his grasp. 

He tutted to himself as he ripped the front door open, “Such colorful language and such poor manners. Well, I suppose that is to be expected from women of your status.”

“Stop!” You cried, digging your heels into the floor. “You can’t throw me out of my own house! If you don’t leave I’ll call the cops, I swear!”

The butler merely shook his head, tired and annoyed with your antics. “Have a pleasant day, and for your own sake, find yourself a husband and stay off of the streets.”

And with that, he threw you out onto the front porch and slammed the heavy, mahogany door shut, the lock clicking into place. You spent the following moments banging your fists against the door and demanding to be let back in, once you realized how futile that was you unlocked your phone and dialed the emergency line. 

But you weren’t met with anything, no ringing, no voicemail, nothing. Your face scrunched up in confusion, your phone didn’t have a signal...how was that even possible?

And that was when you realized, for certain, that something was very wrong. When you finally looked up from your phone, you were surrounded by trees. 

You stumbled backwards in surprise, knocking into the front door behind you. All of the houses that once lined your street were gone. For miles around you all you could see was a dense forest and dirt and gravel roads. Your sweet, elderly neighbors house was gone, the ice cream shop that you could once see from your house was gone, the sidewalks and the fire hydrants were missing. It was as if they had never been there in the first place. 

“What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself, your stomach turning and your heartbeat thundering violently in your chest.

Everything was gone, how was that possible? Where did everyone go? Where did all of the buildings go? There was no way that they could all have been decimated and replaced with trees that towered higher than your house in one night. What in the absolute fuck was happening?

You crouched down to your knees, weaving your fingers through your messy hair as panicked sobs wracked your body. You had no explanation for what was happening, you had no idea what the hell was going on. Your phone wasn’t working, you were kicked out of your own home, and everyone was missing. 

You sat there for a moment, crying to yourself in a complete and utter panic before you realized that you needed to at least try and find someone who could help you. You allowed yourself a few more moments to squeeze out some more tears, heave your last sobs, and dry your wet face. You had done a lot of crying the past few days, enough tears to last you a lifetime. It was time to get to work now and figure out what was going on. 

So, you stepped foot onto the manicured lawn before you and made your way to the dilapidated road ahead of you. The dirt and gravel dug into the bare skin of your feet causing you to wince and jump in pain. It was better and easier to walk alongside the road rather than on it. 

The more you walked, and the further you walked, it became apparent that it was not only your street that had suffered changes overnight, but your entire town. What had once been a shopping district you frequented often in your teens was now a sea of never-ending trees. You hadn’t seen this much greenery since you went hiking years ago. 

The home that you remembered was much different from the sights you were seeing now. Your house had been the only Victorian on the street, the others newer builds that had popped up over the decades. It looked like any other street you had ever seen, an amalgamation of history in a couple blocks. But now, it appeared to be a clean slate, devoid of noise, devoid of life, and devoid of structure. 

In an eerie way, you felt like you were at the beginning of time, back before humanity had cultivated the earth and turned vibrant greenery into concrete jungles. It was as beautiful and it was lonely, if you hadn’t had that run in with the maid and the butler earlier, you could have assumed you were the only person on earth. How startling and stifling that would have been, to be just a house plopped in the middle of nowhere, with not a person in sight. 

It was not unlike how you felt now, alone walking alongside an empty road surrounded by trees. You could feel the miles passing as dirt clung to the soles of your feet, the skin burning in protest as you continued walking aimlessly in search of any signs of another person or house in the area. 

The thick layer of dark clouds hanging in the sky was not doing anything for your mood. You were certain you would be doomed to spend the day or possibly even the night in the trees trying to take cover from the onslaught of rain that was sure to come. 

And, just as you had predicted, all it took was one roll of thunder through the sky before the clouds let loose a torrent of rain. Your only saving grace was that the rainfall was not ice cold, but lukewarm. Your other concern was that where there was thunder, there would be lightning. At least you weren’t the tallest thing in the area though, a tree was more likely to be struck than you were. But that would be the cherry on top of your shitty day wouldn’t it, to be struck by lighting as well? 

But, just as your hopes were about as low and hell, you spotted something in the distance. The structure was familiar, you were certain you had seen those peaked roofs and stone walls many times before. Yesterday you had been driving on the highway when you passed the country club, and now you were certain that’s where you were. Where you stood now and once been home to a highway, and mere miles away was the country club you had passed everyday on your way to work. 

If you were lucky, the staff would take pity on you and maybe you could shower and get some food in you before you called the authorities to deal with those intruders of yours. 

By the time you finally made it up to the country club, you were completely soaked to the bone. The only pieces of clothing you had on, being your underwear and your oversized t-shirt, were drenched with water. You looked like a drowned rat if you were being honest with yourself. 

But, even in your panicked and miserable state, you took notice of a few things. The signs that once held directions and the name of the club were gone, nothing there that even hinted at their prior existence. The parking lot was long gone as well, not to mention the caged in tennis courts and the golf grounds. It was all missing. The only thing that stood as familiar to you was the large, Victorian manor itself, and the grand water fountain in the center of the roundabout. This roundabout was made of gravel though, instead of the cement you remembered it being. And, to your disdain, the tiny pieces of gravel had returned to puncture the delicate skin of our feet once more. 

You were tired, you were cranky, and you were wet. All you wanted to do at this point was run inside and collapse on the polished floor.  

You sped over the gravel as fast as you could before running up the stone steps, sliding under the cover of the roof that was fixed over the front door. You raised your hand up and curled your numb fingers around the door knocker. And, with difficulty, you swung the door knocker against the rich wood of the front door frantically. If there was a doorbell you would have been annoyingly ringing it nonstop, so you had to settle for banging the door knocker violently instead. 

While you were mid swing the door was ripped open violently, your soaked form almost being tugged inside as you were still attached to the knocker. A man stood in front of you, he too was dressed in a three piece suit, gloves adorning his hands and polished oxfords sitting under the hem of his pant legs. His suit was much finer than the butler’s from before, but the expression on his face was just as, if not even more, stern than the butler that came before him. 

“Please,” You huffed out, using your best pleading gaze. “I need help.”

“I think you are mistaken, miss. I do not believe you have any business with the master of this estate.” He responded coolly, a harsh edge to his tone. 

“Wait please!” You cried as he backed away and attempted to shut the door. You gripped the door frame, wedging your arm in place to keep it from closing. “I just need to use your phone.”

“I’m sorry miss, but -”

“Claude? Who’s at the door?” Another voice echoed from inside. 

“Please, can I come in for just a second?!” You called inside as you heard the click of footsteps approaching the door. 

“Master, I think it would be best if you let me take care of this.” 

“It’s alright, Claude, step aside.” The voice responded. The butler, Claude, edged away from the door in uncertainty before disappearing inside the depths of the club. 

Seconds later, a new man replaced him, opening the door much wider than the butler had. Your heart dropped into your stomach in astonishment and embarrassment. He was probably the most attractive man you had ever had the privilege of seeing and for a moment you were convinced you had fallen into an alternate universe because all of the men you had seen on a daily basis were nothing in comparison to him. 

He was rather tall with tan skin, dark hair, and a set of dangerous dimples. It took everything in you to restrain yourself from delicately poking one of those smooth craters in his cheeks that was calling out to you. 

With a sudden jolt you realized he had been staring at you just as intently as you had been staring at him. His lips had parted and his eyes had darkened. You could feel his gaze traveling over the dips of your collarbones and the exposed flesh of your legs and arms before settling on the thin fabric that stretched over your chest. 

Heat instantly flooded beneath the skin of your face, your arms crossing over your chest. In your moment of hysteria you had forgotten your lack of bra and the rain. You were sure this man had seen more than you had wanted to show him. 

His tongue swiped over his lower lip at your action, his dark, half lidded eyes flicking up to meet your own in a rather sensual stare. 

“Are you a lady of the night?” He asked, his voice deeper than before. 

Ah, that was a term that you had become rather accustomed to today. Well it’s synonyms at least: heathen, harlot, and now lady of the night. 

“No!” You cried in frustration, you had no issues with sex workers, what you did have an issue with was that because of your state of dress everyone had come to assume you were looking for some!

“Please, I just need help.” You sighed, your shoulders dropping from the stress you had endured all day. 

The look in his eyes had all but disappeared after your omission of the truth. You were not a lady of the night, you were just scared, confused, and in need of help. 

“Come inside.” He said, opening the door wider. 

You looked up at him in surprise, shocked to see a gentle smile gracing his lips. Before he could regret offering you shelter, you hastily entered the front room, your arms still wrapped securely around you as you felt the warmth of the building rush through you. 

Yet again, though, you noticed things were different. The front desk was gone, the signs pointing to the bathrooms and the changing rooms were missing, and there weren’t any people other than yourself and the man that stood before you.

“Where is everyone?” You asked him, turning to face the man as he closed the door behind the two of you. 

“What do you mean?” He asked you, equally as confused as you were. 

“This is a country club...where are all of the guests?” 

“Country club?” He laughed, his dimples becoming more prominent as his eyes filled with mirth. “This is my home, there isn’t a country club for miles.”

“What?” You whispered to yourself, the water from your shirt sliding off of you and tapping against the wood of the floor rhythmically. 

“They’re still fairly new after all, not many around here I’m afraid. You must be lost then?” He mused. 

“What do you mean they’re new? They’ve been around for years, this is one. I’ve been here numerous times!” You explained, exasperated. 

“Are you feeling well, miss?” He asked, stepping closer to you without letting his gaze wander as it had before. 

No, you weren’t feeling well at all, you were incredibly fucking confused. What he was saying didn’t make any sense, none at all. Country clubs weren’t new, they had been around for over a century now. 

And that was when it all began to make sense. All of the pieces suddenly had fallen into place. All the houses on your street were gone, the shopping center, the highway, the signs and the parking lot were missing from the country club. Your phone was unable to get a signal in the hours that had passed. You had encountered four strangers that spoke in a manner you had not heard often and dressed like they were from a different era. 

“What - what year is it?” You asked, your body trembling now from anxiety and from your wet shirt. 

“1891, of course.” He responded, his face appearing even more confused than it had before. He was looking at you in concern as well, he wasn’t sure why you would be asking him such an obvious and ridiculous question. 

“Oh.” Was all you managed to say as you began to stumble backwards, your legs going weak underneath you as you slumped to the ground. Your vision was focusing and un-focusing, your head feeling light as you could faintly hear his panicked voice in front of you. It was beginning to sound further and further away though as your bare thighs met the cold, wood floor beneath you. 

You were having a stressful day.

~~~~~~~

When you woke it was to a cold compress against your forehead and the feeling of a plush mattress beneath you. For a moment you thought that you were at home again, that the past few hours had all been some fever dream and your grandfather was taking care of you in your state. 

But the feeling of the thin, silver chain still wrapped around your fingers assured you otherwise. That had not been a dream in the slightest. 

You jerked forward, the cold cloth flying onto your lap as your hands scrambled across the top of the duvet reflexively searching for your phone. 

“It’s alright, relax, you’ll only worsen your condition!” A voice seethed as hands settled on your shoulders and coaxed you back against the pillows behind you. 

It was him again, the man with the dimples. 

“You have a fever, it won’t do you any good to move around too much.” He lectured you, his hand waving around as he scolded you. 

You quickly caught sight of something wrapped up in his ringed fingers, it was your phone. 

“Give that back!” You yelled, snatching your phone back from his hands and holding it tight against your chest. You were glad that your phone was password protected, not that he would ever know what to do with it even if he managed to unlock it by accident. 

“What is it exactly?” He asked you as he relented, taking a seat in a chair that had been moved to your bedside. 

“It’s none of your business, that’s what it is.” You replied, shooting him a look that he reciprocated with shock and astoundment. He probably had never been spoken to like that before, a man with what you could only assume held power, status, and wealth. There was a part of you while still shocked at your predicament enjoyed the idea of fucking with some rich people. 

“As a guest in my home I think I have every right to know.” He shot back with a quirk of his brow, jerking his chin up. 

The audacity. So, as petty as it was, you refused to dignify his statement with a response. 

“Fine, if you won’t tell me then I’ll have to assume you don’t know what it is either and you stole it just like you did that watch. It’s to be expected of someone of your...nature.” He insinuated, his gaze flicking over your form from head to toe.

“My nature?” You replied, your skin going hot with untapped irritation. 

“Well, a prostitute of course.” He answered with such certainty it made you want to scream. 

“For fuck’s sake how many times do I have to say I’m not!” You yelled, throwing your head back against the pillows. 

“Well of course you are, with that way you looked coming up here you were practically naked, how could you not be a pros-”

“First of all,” you interrupted, “The proper term is sex worker and you have no right judging women who have no other choice and even if they did choose it you still have no right to demean them for taking up a profession that employs a service and receives payment for it like any other job!” 

“Secondly, the manner in which I am dressed does not mean you get to make baseless assumptions about me or my job without knowing why I look this way in the first place.”

He sat there for a moment, stunned. A long pause of silence passed between the two of you before a smile split across his face, those dimples returning in full force. 

“I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Did I ask?” You retorted, annoyed, and overall confused from his sudden change in demeanor. A voice echoed in the back of your mind that maybe he had a thing for women putting him in his place but you quickly shoved that down in embarrassment. 

“Well it’s only proper, you’re already in my bed anyways I figured you should know my name.” He replied with a boyish smirk.

You choked in confusion and shock before softly muttering your name in response. You did owe him that much, he had taken you in and taken care of you. That was the only thing you would give him though, his prior attitude still stung. 

“I’d like to inform you that despite your progressive thoughts not everyone will see eye to eye with you, miss. You’re lucky you found your way here, there’s a murderer stalking these streets.”

“A murderer?” You echoed, your blood chilling in your veins. 

“You don’t know of Jack the Ripper? That’s what the public titled him at least.” He explained. 

Holy shit, the timing was perfect. Namjoon had told you the year was 1891, whatever had caused your slip through time sent you right back into the tailend of the Jack the Ripper murders. You had been lucky that he hadn’t stumbled across you, because despite your beliefs that your attire didn’t mean anything, everyone you had met had mistaken you for a sex worker. It would be expected that the infamous ripper himself would have thought the same and your name would have joined the list of victims. 

That was too close of a call for you. 

“Has he killed recently?” You asked out of morbid curiosity, you were hoping, selfishly, that you had arrived after his last victim. 

“He’s been rather active, I should know, I’m the one investigating him.” He said, a look of irritation falling over his features as he crossed his leg over the other, his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.

“You’re an officer, then?” You asked. 

He responded with an annoyed snort, rolling his eyes. “Thankfully no, I’m more of a private investigator. I’ve been employed by some officials high in the government to do the work the police have been ruining as of late. How embarrassing, three years and they still haven’t managed to pin the murderer.”

Ah, so you had struck a nerve. He didn’t like the police, noted. 

“Tell me more.” You probed, your genuine curiosity winning over your unease. 

Namjoon appeared to gather himself, his gaze that had once been far off returning to you. “Detail such grizzly deaths to a lady? I’m afraid not.”

“Where I come from we don’t take sexism lightly, Namjoon. And, not to mention, I’m a journalist. Trust me, I can handle it.” What you said was true, as a journalist you were receiving a once in a lifetime opportunity, you were given the chance to witness the investigation of the world’s most well known cold case.  

“You’re a strange woman, unlike any other I’ve ever met before.” He said softly, an amused light in his eyes.

“You’d be surprised just how much we are capable of.” You shot back. 

“Fair enough,” He smiled, enthralled with the back and forth the two of you had engaged in. “I’ll tell you more in my study, I’ll send for a maid to help you dress.” He said before standing up and heading towards the bedroom door. 

“I’m interested to hear your thoughts.” He called over his shoulder before the door clicked shut. 

As soon as he left, you felt like you could breathe freely, a deep exhale of air passing between your lips.

So, you had slipped through time. Your thumb rested between your lips as you nervously chewed at your nail. You were coming to terms with the fact that somehow, some way, you had retreated into the year 1891. The next issue that you needed to resolve was how you were going to get back to your own timeline. You didn't belong here, that was for sure. Just from your previous conversation with Namjoon you knew that you were drastically different from anyone of this era. At this point, you were sure that was bound to get you in some sort of trouble. It was probably best to lay low around people other than Namjoon who had already been exposed to your modern ideals.

As you sat, stewing in your thoughts, a series of gentle knocks echoed from the door to the bedroom. You peeled the sheets away from your body and stilled for a moment. Somebody had changed your clothes. Where you had once worn your faded tour shirt you were now dressed in a long, flowing, silk nightgown that just brushed the tops of your toes. It was rather pretty and ridiculously comfortable but that didn't lessen your anxiety from having a new state of dress from what you had passed out in.

Another set of knocks, less gentle ones this time, spurred you to move faster. As soon as your bare feet met the plush carpet beneath you, you rushed to the door. Upon opening it, a maid stood there. She held a few items in her arms, her face obscured by the dense pile of fabric she cradled. Without saying a word you moved aside and held the door open for her. You could faintly hear her mumble out a weak thank you, muffled by what she held.

She shuffled over to the bed and dropped everything on top of the mattress with a heave that swung her small body with it.

"Alright, Miss. Are you ready?" She asked, turning to face you with a pleasant smile.

"Ready for what exactly?" You replied.

"Well, to dress you of course."

Your face flushed in embarrassment, that was something you had conveniently forgotten, people of higher status like your host did not dress themselves in this period.

"Oh, that's alright, I can manage on my own."

"Are you certain?" She asked, an apprehensive look crossing her features as she stopped laying out the clothing items, her hands halting over a corset.

Fuck.

"On second thought I would love the help." Yeah, there was no fucking way you were learning to lace that thing on your own.

You hadn’t realized just how much of a struggle it would have been to dress yourself had you not appreciated the help the maid had given you. In Victorian fashion, layers were undeniable and you couldn’t help but flinch at the thought of how hot these women had to get in the warmer months. 

You had also assumed the corset would have been troublesome, given how you always heard about its bad rep via movies and literature. In reality, it was quite comfortable. It wasn’t overbearingly tight and you could breathe perfectly fine without a single hint of dizziness. You couldn’t help but ask the maid about this in astonishment. 

She giggled as she smoothed your dress, “Tightlacing you mean? Why, is there someone you’re trying to impress?”

Your face burned with heat at her insinuation, “No, no, I was just curious.”

“It is quite fashionable, but not very practical, no?” She said with a hint of a smile as she stepped back from you. “Well, if that’s all you’ll be needing of me the master is waiting for you in his study, would you like me to escort you? It’s not very far.”

“Oh no, I’m sure I’ve distracted you enough, if you could just point the way that’d be very much appreciated.” 

“Of course!” She chirped, guiding you into the hallway of the manor. “Just head straight down that way, it’s the door at the very end of the hall!”

“Thank you for all of your help.” You smiled gratefully before your turn and began your walk through the hallway. 

The manor was gorgeous with pane glass windows that stretched from the length of the floor to just below the ceiling that were framed with thick, velvet curtains. The floor beneath your shoes was parquet and a deep mahogany that shone proudly in the daylight that filtered into the hallway. You had not seen all of the manor but you knew, just from this glimpse, that the rest of it radiated wealth and power just like its master. 

The clicking of your shoes against the polished hardwood echoed down the length of the corridor as you approached the doors to the study. You had never been to this floor of the manor in your timeline, it had been long since roped off and only elite members were allowed access. Now, it appeared you could roam freely to your heart's content. 

Your knuckles brushed against the door, three knocks in quick succession sounding out into the quiet hallways and study. 

“Come in.” Namjoon called, his voice steady yet distracted. 

You pulled the heavy doors open and slipped into the study. Upon entering you noticed a number of things, for one the study resembled that of a library. The space was vast with bookshelves towering over you as well as everything else in the room. 

Namjoon was seated behind a desk, his fingers resting at his temples while he flipped through a set of papers placed on the surface of the table. While the rest of the manor had appeared clean, almost sterile really, this space had gone untouched by the staff. Various books laid open or bookmarked on the floors, couches, and his desk. 

Upon further inspection you noticed textbooks and medical journals strewn about, anatomy pages glaring back at you. 

“Are you a doctor, Namjoon?” You asked, lifting one of the textbooks up to get a closer look at what he had been reading. 

“A doctor?” He laughed, “I consider myself to be more of a scholar, really-”

Whatever else he had meant to say ceased, the words failing to part his lips. He was looking at you again, not unlike the way he had looked at you when you had appeared on his doorstep scantily clad and drowning in a torrent of rain. 

He made you uncomfortable. 

“Look at you, looking like a lady. You could have fooled me if I did not know any better.” He said, the corner of his lips tugging up into a sarcastic grin. 

“Such a gentleman.” You huffed with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “If you’re not a doctor then what is the point in reading things like this?”

“To catch a killer, you must think like a killer.” He hummed, tapping the tip of his forefinger against the side of his head. 

“You’ll never catch him.” You said, the words escaping you before you could even think about the repercussions they would have. 

“And why would you think that?” He asked, his eyes narrowing with a challenging look to them, the irises were dark and sent a cold chill down the length of your spine. 

“Call it intuition.” You replied, thinking quickly on your feet. “If countless others who are far more qualified and knowledgeable have failed to find him, it’s improbable one individual will bring him down.” 

You had unknowingly just challenged his intellect, if this were a dance you would have quite literally just stepped on your partner's toes. 

Namjoon stood quickly, his chair shooting back as he rounded the desk and approached you. You stumbled backwards in surprise but did not manage to dodge him as he matched your pace. His hands had settled on your waist, spinning you around to pull you back into his chest. 

His voice was soft and mellow beside your ear as he spoke, “Each victim was a prostitute, all found in the east end of town. Already there is a location and a motive, no?” 

“Now, here is what I find interesting.” He hummed, swiftly gripping your chin and pushing your head back onto his shoulder. His fingers ever so lightly brushed down the column of your throat before drawing a line across it from left to right. 

“Immediately he slits their throat, and right after? Disembowelment.” He said, his other hand that was settled on your waist migrated to your lower abdomen, his fingers caressing another line over the clothed flesh. 

“Most people, those ‘investigators’ for example, would say he hates women. But on the contrary, I think he is quite fascinated. With every murder he takes something that is uniquely theirs, would you happen to know what that is?” 

“Their womb.” You managed to say. You were trembling and you were certain that he could feel it. He was scaring you, the reality of your situation was suddenly becoming rather apparent. 

That could have been you. 

“Exactly, and to do something like that you would need some medical background, especially considering the speed and technique with which he does it.” He confirmed, his hands resting on your waist once more, this time turning you to face him. 

“So, if I were a ripper who was fascinated by women, where would I be?”

“Well...everywhere?” You replied, stepping out of his hold.

“Yes and no. We have a pattern and a motive, someone who is targeting prostitutes in the East End. My money would be on a hub for illicit activities, and with my sources I have a clue as to where he will strike next.”

That piqued your interest. “And where would that be?”

“If I know anything, it’s that the rich don’t like to follow rules and love a good party. Every now and then viscounts, dukes, and aristocrats alike will gather and dabble in illicit activities together. These parties change location every now and again, but most commonly we see them in the East End. Chances are, we can find a doctor with devious intentions at the hub of them. So, do I seem qualified to you?”

“This was your way of proving your capability to me?” You huffed, shaking your head. 

“Yes, and it appeared to work.” He smiled, leaning back against his desk with his arms spread behind him on  its surface. 

“Well, luckily for you, I’m interested.” You responded, jutting your chin out as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Interested?” He echoed.

“If you want to catch a killer, what better way is there to do so than draw him out?”

“You’re offering yourself as bait? Are you neurotic?!” He laughed, shaking his head from side to side as he popped off of his desk. “Do you really think I would allow that in good conscience?” 

“I don’t need your permission to do anything, Namjoon. What I am offering is an agreement of mutual satisfaction. You get a way to bait the killer and I get the story of a lifetime.”

You had been plunged backwards through time for a reason, and maybe this was the reason. This was the world’s most infamous cold case. What were the chances that a journalist would slip through the cracks in time and stumble into the East End of 1891? The only conclusion you could draw was that you were meant to identify who the ripper was. 

You knew nothing about time travel regardless of the pop culture you had consumed. For all you knew, changing the events of the past would not create a ripple effect but instead a branch. And, as horrifying as this scenario was, your curiosity was going to get the better of you. You needed to know, even if it meant following around the egotistical self proclaimed genius that had sheltered you. 

“So, do we have a deal? You asked, extending your hand out to him. 

The silence that hung between the two of you was unsettling. His dark eyes lingered on your hand for a moment before flicking up to your face and back down. His lips were pursed in thought and you could tell he was debating with himself heavily. There was a soft ringing in your ears as the quiet stretched on. 

A sudden smile spread over his face, one that you thought almost appeared devious. He laughed to himself and then shook his head before breaching the space between you and gripping your much smaller hand in his own. He gave your hand a firm shake before tugging you forwards and pressing a light kiss to the back of your hand with a grin. 

“We have a deal.” He confirmed. 

“What a fucking flirt.” You grumbled to yourself beneath your breath, anxiously sliding your hand over the fabric of your skirt. “So, when will this party take place?”

“One week from now.” He said, raising his hand to hold up one finger. 

That was much longer than you had wanted to spend in the Victorian era. Far much longer. 

“And what will we do in the meantime?” 

“Well investigate, of course.”

~~~~~~~

Days had passed in Namjoon’s company, and for all of the investigating the three of you (Namjoon, Claude, and yourself) had done, no results were accomplished. But, on the other hand no murders had been committed in the East End. 

You were halfway through the week until the party, and despite your efforts there was absolutely nothing. You were becoming as frustrated as the inhabitants of the East End as well as your fellow investigators. Among all of your “resources,” you were caught at a dead end just as the police were. 

You had heard of Jack the Ripper in your youth, you were once an avid true crime fan. But, for the life of you, you could not remember who the next victim was and where their corpses would be found. And for all you knew, protecting that individual would only cause someone else to lose their life. Time was tricky and fickle, and if it was set in stone, it did not matter who would die so long as someone was drafted into the void. 

You assumed. 

Your host had been...strange, to put it simply. You had thought to yourself that that was just in his nature, he was easily distracted, unfocused, yet insanely intelligent. But his mannerisms were unusual. He seemed completely unfazed by the case he had been assigned to, the only moments in which he showed a visceral response were when he dealt with you, or the police force. He hated them intensely, you could only assume because of how ineptly they were handling the case itself. 

And, most frequently, you found yourself going head to head with him. And boy, did he enjoy the challenge. And, if you were bold enough to admit it, you would say he derived pleasure from the arguments the two of you would get into. He would constantly fix you with that confident smirk, the one that told you he believed he was always one step ahead of you. And fuck, did it piss you off. And he was very much aware of that. He loved a good challenge and you were far different from any of the women he knew of. 

He often wondered how far he could push you before you snapped. 

And if his cocky behavior wasn’t enough to piss you off, it was how much of a blatant flirt he was. There was nothing more frustrating than someone arguing with you while flirting with you at the same time. And your constant refusal and rebuttal to his advances only seemed to fuel the fire. 

The cover of night time became your one refuge, that was when you had an excuse to stay away from him. You could have the whole night to yourself and be free of him until the morning. 

Usually. 

Normally, you slept through the night. But for some reason your body woke you. It was either late at night or extremely early in the morning. No sunlight entered the room, it was still incredibly dark. 

At first, everything appeared to be perfectly normal. That was of course until you noticed a figure seated in the chair by your window mere feet away. You immediately jumped and began to scramble backwards out of the bed, the sheets twisting around your legs and slowing you down. 

It was the call of your name that made you freeze. 

Namjoon was sitting in your room at an ungodly hour...watching you. 

“Namjoon?” You hissed, pulling the sheets back up to your chin. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.” He answered, pressing his palms onto the armrests and pushing himself up to stand. 

“I really wish you would have.” You grunted, pulling the blanket around you even tighter. “Do you know how creepy you -”

“Two more women are dead.”

Silence. 

“What happened?” You whispered, your fingers going limp. 

“One woman was murdered late last night and the other an hour ago. It was a double event.” His tone was flat, completely absent of affect. 

The three of you could only hold him off for so long, and it looks like he lashed out as soon as he was given the chance. Two women within the span of a few hours were killed, and you couldn’t help but feel like that was your fault. 

No matter what you do, someone will die. 

“What do we do now?” You asked, sullenly looking to him from your point on the bed. 

“We have to go meet with the authorities.” He answered, distaste evident in his voice when he uttered the word ‘authorities.’ 

“Come, we don’t have much time.” He urged you, snapping the sheets back to the foot of the bed while pulling you up to your feet. 

You stumbled as he tugged you forward, your head spinning from the sudden motion. You were struggling to see, your eyes still heavy with sleep despite the dreadful news you had heard. The feeling of his hands at the back of your nightdress certainly shocked you awake. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You snapped, smacking his hands away from you. 

He appeared frustrated, his eyes dark and his face set in irritation at your refusal. “I just told you, we don’t have much time. All of the maids are still asleep, it’s far too early to call one of them for help and you certainly don’t know how to dress yourself.”

“I can manage on my own, I don’t need your ‘help’.” You argued, stepping away from him in an attempt to create some distance between the two of you. “You don’t know the first thing about women’s clothes anyways.”

His jaw tensed, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before releasing an annoyed sigh. “Trust me I have undone a few corsets in my time, it’s not as difficult as you make it out to be.” 

“And just as I said, I can dress myself I am not a fucking child.” 

Before you could move his arm shot forward and his hand wrapped around your forearm tightly. Despite your struggling he yanked you towards him, his other hand gripping your elbow. 

“As stupid and insufferable as you like to think I am, I know you are not from here.” He said, his voice low and dangerously quiet. “You don’t speak, act, or even walk like you are from here. The more you hide from me the harder this is going to be. You need help, now you can either be a brat and I have to force you to do as I say, or you can play along and we can get this done and get to work. It’s up to you.”

He had just told you he knew you were a time traveler without explicitly saying it. At least that was the way you took it. But the way in which he spoke to you did not seem to insinuate that he meant that you were a foreigner. Many of your interactions with him would have led him to believe you were from a different time and, not to mention, you had done a terrible job of hiding your phone from him the first day you arrived. You had done a poor job of concealing that from someone as smart as him. 

“And what if I don’t want you to see me?” You tried one last time. 

“It wouldn’t be anything I haven’t already seen.”

So, he was the one who had changed you the first day you had arrived in 1891. There were many red flags waving in the back of your head, and like an idiotic bull you had failed to recognize a single one of them. Some journalist you were, you had missed all of the finite details. 

“Turn around.” He finally said, his voice firm. 

And, with no other choice, you did. It was incredibly awkward on your end. Despite the attractiveness of your host, you had no desire for him to strip and dress you. Unfortunately for you, he did not care. You understood the urgency to leave and your little spat had already delayed your departure. But you were a person who valued your dignity and autonomy, you weren’t built to live in a society such as this one. 

You tried your best not to focus on the feeling of his touch, but it was incredibly hard to ignore. Instead of touching you as little as possible, it felt like he took every chance to caress, graze, and linger on every inch of bared skin. 

For a moment, all movement stilled. You were only halfway dressed, your corset exposing everything upwards of your chest leaving your collarbones, arms, shoulders, and neck on display. You shuddered at the sudden feeling of fingers smoothing over the column of your throat, not unlike the incident in Namjoon’s study. 

He was absolutely quiet as he pressed his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, softly breathing in and out as his fingers continued to stroke the skin of your throat from left to right in a gentle, slow, sawing motion. Your heart was pumping frantically in your chest in what could only be described as fear. Your back was ramrod straight, a harsh line in comparison to the relaxed form behind you. 

Why were you so afraid of him? It was like every nerve and muscle in your form was begging you to leap away and run for your life. But he wasn’t dangerous, right?

You jolted at the feeling of lips just brushing against your shoulder as he pulled away from you and finished helping you dress, far quicker than he had been before. His demeanor was suddenly resigned, professional, and cold. It was like he had suddenly mustered a sense of self control in mere seconds. 

Who exactly was Kim Namjoon?

Said man was retreating in the direction of your bedroom door, his hand grasping the doorknob as he called over his shoulder, “Meet me out front, and please be quick about it.”

That was when a thought suddenly intruded your mind. 

“Namjoon? How did you get into my room? The door was locked.”

He stiffened for a moment, his hand tightening around the doorknob causing the muscle to strain and his knuckles to whiten. He said nothing, his head jerked to the side for a moment like he was gesturing in disbelief. 

He raised his head and stared at you, and then without saying anything, he left. 

~~~~~~~

You stared at the face of your pocket watch, the delicate chain wrapped around your gloved fingers. The hands of the watch were still, the familiar ticking of the watch was silent. It was like time had completely stopped. And in a way, maybe it had. 

The carriage halted to a stop spurring you to snap the watch cover closed and pin it back into place. 

Your companion quickly exited and stood outside, reaching his hand out to you to help guide you from the compartment. Despite the sudden animosity between the two of you, you placed your hand in his own and allowed him to help you down. The layered skirts of your dress swirled around your ankles, they were heavy and made it hard to climb in and out of transportation. Begrudgingly, you managed to say your thanks between gritted teeth. 

“Try to behave.” He whispered beside your ear offering his arm to you. 

You hooked your arm into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead the way. If you had it your way you would be fifteen feet in front of him carving your own path through the East End. But, your lack of knowledge of Victorian etiquette had already managed to get you in trouble and the last thing that you needed was more trouble. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, quickening your pace to match his long strides. 

“The previous crime scene has already been cleaned up by the task force, but the one from this morning is still intact. I have been instructed to go over their findings as well as conduct my own investigation.” He explained. 

“Alright, what can I do?” 

“What you can do is stay right here.” He instructed, bringing the two of you to a stop at the mouth of a narrow alleyway. It was already blocked off, warning the public to steer clear of the area. 

“You have to be kidding? You really expect me to wait here for you while you go and investigate? I don’t take kindly to being told to just sit and look pretty, Namjoon.” You glared. 

Namjoon titled his head back and let out a sound of annoyance, his shoulders rising and falling dramatically with an exasperated sigh. “For once, will you please listen to me? This is an active investigation and I am asking you, a civilian, to stay put. I swear, I will tell you everything you need to know for your story, alright?” 

Another bitter silence passed between the two of you. He knew you were incredibly dissatisfied with what he had said. But he was just as stubborn as you were, that being the reason the two of you butted heads so often. 

He shook his head, jaw tensed with anger as he stepped away from you heading in the direction of the alley way. 

“Stay put!” He called over his shoulder, waving his hand at you as he disappeared, his form melting into the darkness of the alley that had yet to see the glow of the early morning sunrise. 

Now that, that pissed you off. You were not some dog that would obey his every command, the more he told you not to do something the more it made you want to do it. 

You waited for a few moments, for his sake and for the very fact that it would piss him off that you refused to listen. You were an impatient woman, and you would be damned if you listened to a single thing he said. 

The air was crisp and cool with the lack of sunlight, your breath fogging the space in front of you as you slunk down the dark alleyway. You could hear Namjoon’s voice echoing down the brick tunnel, he sounded enraged. There were several other voices attempting to speak over him, but they were evidently failing. 

And then there was the smell, it was horrid. The cramped space was packed full of the scent, it was indescribable. The only prominent smell that was familiar was the tangy, coppery odor of blood thick in the morning air. 

But what you hadn’t been expecting was that the body was still there, slumped against the ground haphazardly like it was nothing more than trash. An officer was still there, knelt down next to her body. He was prodding her flesh with a grimace, holding a handkerchief over his nose to block out the scent. 

“Christ, she’s still warm!” He called out, jumping up to head back to the investigators while giving you a full view of the carnage laid out before you. “He could still be close by!”

Multiple sensations bombarded you at once. A scream was caught in your throat as your stomach began to churn from the sight before you. You raised a gloved hand to cover your nose and mouth as you leaned against the wall, your knees feeling weak. 

It was bad, worse than you could have possibly imagined. 

There was blood, more blood than you had ever seen in your entire life. And whatever it was that was laying before you just barely looked human. But the parts that did look familiar was what made it so unsettling, so wrong, so horrifying. 

Namjoon was calling your name. 

You were still in shock when he grabbed you, his hand cupping the back of your neck and forcing your face into his chest blocking the grotesque view you once had. His other arm wrapped around your shoulders, cradling you closer to him. 

“Her...her face.” You stuttered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

“Are you that inept at your jobs that you couldn’t keep a civilian from entering a fucking crime scene?!” He yelled over your head, his voice vibrating deep in his chest. 

“I told you to stay put.” He mumbled, his lips pressed to the crown of your head while his thumb stroked the side of your face as you shook in his hold. This was the gentlest he had ever been with you. 

You had never seen anything like that before. Whatever words he had spoken were falling on deaf ears, a sharp ring was echoing throughout your head, numb tears streaking your face and ruining his jacket. 

You could feel his hands slide to the curve of your jaw, forcing your head up to look at him and only him. 

“From now on, you listen to me, okay?” He said, his eyes darting over your face to make sure you were retaining what he was saying. 

You weren’t sure what was more concerning to you. The fact that he was suddenly so gentle with you, or the fact that he paid no mind to the corpse mere feet away from the two of you. 

There was something wrong with Kim Namjoon. 

~~~~~~~

Whatever investigation Namjoon had managed to conduct during your moments of shellshock provided nothing new. The choice of murder was the same, albeit the brutality was by far the worst of all the victims before. 

Her body had been warm indicating the perpetrator could still have been close by, but despite that knowledge the search parties could not find the culprit that had been described. There was no man covered in blood hiding in the shadows of the East End, he had disappeared like he had never been there in the first place. 

A few days after the murder had taken place, Namjoon had informed you the killer had made contact. His face was grim as he described what had transpired. A letter and a parcel had arrived addressed to the taskforce, inside was what appeared to be a human kidney and a letter signed with a flourish, “Jack The Ripper.”

He was playing with them. 

Your dreams were plagued with the memories of the sights you had seen that day in the early morning light of the alleyway. And instead of forcing you into submission, it made you angry. The initial sight had rendered you imobile, weak, and defenseless. You had never seen a human look like that. But with each dream you dreamt as the week melted away, you festered in guilt and rage. 

Your fellow Victorian journalists had called him a monster, but you knew better. He was not a monster, he was a coward preying on women in the veil of darkness. Cowards harmed the weak and the defenseless, he was a caricature of a monster. 

And you wanted nothing more than to rip the Halloween mask off of that faux monster. 

This thought is what lent you strength as you and Namjoon reentered the East End, prepared to once and for all unmask the killer that had escaped the two of you. 

You were dressed expensively, and rather salaciously, to blend in with the aristocrats around you. Namjoon and Claude appeared comfortable in the environment and it made you wonder if this had not been their first time attending an illicit party. Namjoon had explained to you before that he was often hired by government officials to do the jobs the police often failed to do, so it would not be unexpected if he had been there more than once. 

You were bombarded by various sights that had you sticking close to your companions. When Namjoon said “illicit” parties, he meant it. The amount of illegal activities taking place was astounding. No matter where you looked, something was going on. Various partygoers were drinking unmarked liquids, inhaling unidentified substances, or swapping large amounts of money for some unknown service (although you had an inkling as to what they may be). 

At one point in the night you had tried to locate a bathroom only for Namjoon to pull you away from the door you had attempted to open. 

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” He said with an all knowing, tight lipped grin. 

“Really, and why not?” You asked, your hand resting on your cinched waist. 

“I didn’t picture you as one for...group activities.” 

“Group activities...there’s an orgy in there?!” You whisper yelled, frantically wiping your hand on your skirts with wide eyes. 

Namjoon wheezed out a laugh, guiding you away from the room and back towards the center of the pseudo ballroom. “What can I say, this is a sinner’s paradise.” 

“Sinner’s paradise, more like Chlamydia’s Palace.” You huffed, your cheeks hot. 

Namjoon laughed again only to be stopped by the presence of his butler, Claude. His hand concealed his mouth as he whispered something to Namjoon. Whatever it was he said seemed to please Namjoon while also provoking an indescribable look to wash over his handsome features.

As soon as Claude stepped back, Namjoon spoke. “I need you to stay right here, okay? Don’t talk to anyone, don’t drink anything, just keep to yourself until I return.” 

Your eyebrows pinched together in irritation and confusion, “But, Namjoon -”

“Remember what happened the last time you refused to listen to me?” He snapped, raising his eyebrows in emphasis. 

You pressed your lips together, turning your head to the side. Yes, you did remember what had happened the last time you ignored his instructions. 

Namjoon sighed, propping his finger under your chin and turning your head to look at him. “Please, trust me on this one thing.”

You thought to yourself for a moment, the last time you didn’t listen it hadn’t exactly gone well for you. This was just one thing he was asking of you after all of the things he had done for you, he was asking for just one moment of cooperation. 

You lowered his hand from your chin and took a breath. “Okay, I trust you.” 

A look of pure elation erupted on his face. He gave you a wide grin, his dimples deepening in his cheeks. 

“I’ll be back.” He said before retreating into the crowd with Claude following close behind. 

And then you were alone, but not alone for nearly long enough. 

Your hands fiddled with the pocket watch your grandfather had gifted you as you walked, your head down and your gaze focused on the glass face of the watch. It was almost like everything had gone wrong after he had died and left it in your possession. 

Far too distracted from your internal thoughts and the presence of the watch, you missed the incoming form barreling towards you. Within seconds you were knocked to the floor, the layers of your skirts luckily breaking your fall. 

“Ah! Sorry, sorry, sorry, my bad! In a rush, I’m quite late I’m afraid.” The voice rushed out, a slight wheeze accompanying it as he appeared breathless. 

You felt two hands grasp your own and carefully help you into an upright position. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” You said, irritation clear in your tone. 

“No really! Forgive me, it’s my mistake.” He said.

You adjusted your dress, making sure all of the important bits were in place before finally looking up to see who exactly this man was. 

You were not expecting it to be him. Not at all. 

“Grandpa?” You asked softly, taken aback. 

It was him, he looked years younger than when you had last seen him, but it was him. You had gone through countless scrapbooks as a child and the face that was staring back at you was the younger version of the man that had raised you. 

“What?” He laughed, his eyes crinkling as his shoulders shook. 

Your gaze zeroed in on the chain of the watch clipped to his pocket. And, without saying a word, you pulled your own watch free and showed it to him. 

All mirth completely left his body, like the flame of a candle being snuffed out. His lips parted in shock and distress as his eyes traced over his own initials carved into your watch. His hand patted his own chest frantically as he pulled the watch free and held it beside your own. 

They were identical, down to every nick and scratch in the silver finish. 

“How did you get here?” He asked, his voice low and serious in a way you had never heard before. “Did they send you?” 

“Did who send me? Nobody sent me. I just woke up here, other people were living in my house and everything was gone.” You explained as he pulled you to a corner of the ballroom. 

“This isn’t right,” He mumbled, flipping open his own watch. “You’re a time anomaly, there can’t be two of us here at the same time.”

“Two of us?” You echoed. 

“Time travelers, dear, it runs in the family I’m afraid. What was I thinking about giving that to you without explaining?” He said, his words flying so quickly to the point that you were struggling to keep up. 

“Then let’s leave, show me how to get out of here! There has to be a way!”

“You can’t just leave, you’re here for a purpose, you didn’t just come here by accident.” He said as a blue glow began to steadily thrum and pulse from his watch. “Oh no.”

“Oh no? What, what’s happening?”

“I have to go, I’m being called back. Whatever you do, you cannot change anything, do you understand? Who are you staying with, what have you done?” 

“I haven’t changed anything that I know of. I’ve been staying with Kim Namjoon.”

His eyes widened as the watch began to pulse even stronger than before. “Kim Namjoon! Listen to me, you need to go, you need to get as far away as possible he -”

But before he could finish what he was saying he disappeared. It was like he had blipped out of existence, like he had never been there at all. 

You spun around in a circle, trying to see if he was truly gone. All of the party goers did not appear to be phased, it was like they hadn’t seen a single thing that occurred. How was that possible? Fuck that, how was any of this possible?

All you knew was that you were going to follow his advice and get the fuck out of there and out of the East End. 

You forced yourself through the thick crowds of people, pushing, checking, and elbowing away anyone that got in your way. You winced as one particular shove sent a whole glass of wine pouring down the cleavage and dress of one inebriated woman. It didn’t really matter though, you were sure she could afford another one with the way she had been slamming back drinks all night. 

You threw open various doors in an attempt to find a way out, each time you were met with an increasingly more disgusting or disturbing sight. You didn’t even know some of those positions were possible for fuck’s sake. 

Finally, when you threw open a door you were met with the smell of crisp, fresh air. A way out. 

It was a slim alleyway of the East End, just barely illuminated by the crescent moon that hung in the pitch black darkness of the sky. A sudden sense of paranoia washed over you, the last time you were in an alleyway it had ended poorly. But you knew you didn’t have time to think about that. 

Oh, if only you did. 

The minute your heeled feet met the ground you were greeted with that all too familiar scent. There was blood nearby and lots of it. You could hear shuffling a few yards away, and you knew that you fucked up. 

Your throat felt tight as you attempted to swallow, you were certain you could taste the blood on your tongue from how strong the smell was. And, when you finally turned to face whatever was in that alley, you were horrified. 

A few yards away you spotted three figures, two on the ground and one leaning against the wall. And beneath the three of them, a crimson river steadily flowed through the cobblestone. 

You took a step back, your heels scuffing the stone spurring only two of the figures to look up at you. A scream bubbled in your chest at what you saw. Claude was hunched over the figure of a woman, blood splattered over his face and down the leather apron he wore over his clothes. You could see bloodied tools in his grip as he settled back on his hunches, pausing his motions mid incision.

And then there was Namjoon, the once blank look he wore on his face suddenly lighting up with intrigue at the sight of you. 

“Claude? Why don’t you take the lady home.” He spoke, gesturing to the corpse. 

Claude looked between you and Namjoon for a moment, appearing conflicted. But he did not hesitate any longer as he scooped up the woman’s corpse and retreated down in the dark depths of the alley. 

Namjoon was quick as he approached you, you barely made it a few feet away before he grabbed you by your forearms and pinned you up against the wall, hushing you as panicked cries parted your painted lips. 

“I’m sorry, darling. But, I did tell you to stay put didn’t I?”

“Why?” You managed to say as you trembled in his hold, ugly sobs wracking your entire form. 

“Women only want me for one thing I’m afraid. My money. I thought that maybe I could help those women who had nothing, that they could give me love in return if they didn’t know who I was. But they were just the same, motivated by money. I would give them my love and beg them to stop selling themselves but they just wouldn’t listen to me. Every single one of them failed my little test. They were greedy, and selfish. They didn’t deserve to be women. So, I hurt them just like they hurt me.” 

You didn’t know what to do or what to say, you could only focus on the rising feeling of panic in your chest. 

“I knew someone would eventually catch on to what was happening. But how ironic was it that they assigned me to the case out of all people? Those fucking investigators are so inept they never saw it coming. And Claude, well his loyalty was extremely helpful. If you don’t want to be caught, don’t commit the crime yourself.” He whispered. 

“All I wanted was to give them my love, but each and every single one of them broke my heart. All of them except for you.” He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek that made you violently flinch. 

“You were such a little spitfire, and when you showed up to my door I thought I was going to have to kill you on sight. But you proved me wrong, you’re the only one deserving of my love.”

A blue light suddenly lit up the space between you, the glow of the watch casting sinister shadows over the ripper's face. 

Immediately he reached for the watch at the same time as you, and without much effort he wrenched the watch free from your hands and shoved you down to the ground. Your head met the stone first and on impact black spots blurred your vision.

The watch pulsed vibrantly in his hands, humming like a heartbeat. A wicked laugh shook his shoulders as he flipped the face open. 

“So this is how you did it?” He asked, swinging the watch by it’s chain recklessly. 

“Namjoon, don't’!” You cried, struggling to stand. 

But it was too late. A feral scream ripped its way out of your throat as you watched him slam the watch into the ground and violently dig the heel of his shoe into it. The glass shattered, the metal bent, and the blue glow stuttered, weakly thrumming before fizzling out and plunging the alley into darkness. 

The ripper stalked down the alley and stood over you, a viscous smile pulling at his cheeks as he slowly tilted his head to the side. 

“Don’t look so surprised my love, there is only one way I’d ever let you leave me.” 

[foli-vora]

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

+

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

+

Tags: @anu-simps​

[red-doll-face]

domestic oni w/ his s/o and some bebes please ;/// u know

Of course!!! I have seen the light on oni and I have realized he’s the big boi we needed. This ones for u bun ! I’ve never written for oni before so I just went off sorry 😞

Warnings: slight nsfw, slight breeding kink on onis part and reader is afab or at least has obtained baby making bits also children , mentions of blood and gore as well as nasty baby shit 🤢

WC: 1380

Kazan ‘The Oni’ Yamaoka x afab Reader

A Star in the Night

Life always balances itself out. For every bad day there was a good one. Considering his last day on Earth wasn’t necessarily what one could call good, there had to be some good here in the sprawling fog to naturally even things out, right? So, he searches for another chance. This must be Kazan’s second chance because if it were not, he would be well and truly dead. Floating in the abyss, gone forever. Here, however, he’s even met a descendent and her story makes him feel as if he’s done some good. Passed on his vengeful anger that pushed her to stand up for herself and so he decides that here will be his own slice of peace despite the souls he sends to the sky everyday.

As much as he wishes he could have left that part of his past behind. The killing and the beating. Brutality. It has become a part of him. It’s what makes him useful to the new god that rules here so he does it. If he hopes to one day achieve something here he has to please it. The new god has even taken to labelling him the Oni. The oni. A term he once despised. To torment him more, his skin is now tinged blue and his nails have sharpened and grown out black. He sure looks like one now. Blends into him like colors or ink into water. Makes the endless loop of killing a little easier.

Whatever he’s been working towards, he thinks he finally found it. In these repeated processes Kazan see’s someone unique. One of a kind among all the different screaming visages of the survivors. That’s the moment when he makes a more important decision. The choice to take you as a prize. Something of his own.

Bargaining with the Entity quickly places itself as his new priority. What would he have to do to take you away? To start again with you? The entity asks him to sacrifice 100 survivors. No moris, no escapes. Kazan is determined to get this. He is not in this place for no reason. This is his destiny. He almost lost the streak a few times. Against the hardy survivors. Against you too. But it’s not for nothing because the moment he succeeds, the entity allows him to take you. Upon seeing him, you are apprehensive. Why you? What for? All he will say is that you don’t have to be hunted anymore. Not by anyone. You can live a comfortable life, as comfortable as it can be. You’re shocked. Unsure of why this offer is being extended to you. But what would it be like to be in the fog but never have to go to a trial. You ask if you can come back at some point. If you’re free to leave when you want. Kazan doubts you’ll want to leave. He nods anyway.

And so you sit in his house. A house that used to be only Spirits. The temple however isn’t suitable and thus you live in the house. Settling in is rough. You’re not sure what to do. Then Kazan brings some old traditions. Meditating, raking stones in the garden into little lines. Lighting candles and lanterns at the shrine. It’s fairly easy to put you back into a lulling routine. One that doesn't involve blood and hooks. You start to realize that the Oni or Yamaoka Kazan, he had told you, is interested in more than just feeling bad and sheltering you from the Entity’s wrath. He acts as if you are his spouse. He comes from trials and comes to find you. Greets you. Merely wants to spend time with you. He tells you stories from a time of what must have been Japan when their were jitos, shoguns, and, samurai. He was a samurai. You’re uncertain on why you can communicate with him. Shouldn’t he be speaking a different language.

From a cupboard, he pulls little black sticks and stones used for grinding them into powder. Then into ink. Calligraphy brushes. Old brittle paper. He watches you draw little pictures and he keeps all of them, praising your creativity. How he has chosen someone as talented as you.

“Chosen? For what?” You question. Innocent enough of a question.

“To stand beside me.” That clears up nothing. You feel as if something has gone over your head.

His grand daughter, Rin treats you with kindness. She treats you as if you’re part of her family. With a familiarity you’d forgotten was real. It clicks then what Kazan is trying to do. You are to be a warped version of whatever marriage customs were held in his day. A spouse. He’s taken you as a spouse.

Once you confront him about it, he acts as if you should have always known. That it was obvious what his intentions were and that he didn't feel the need to be explicit. You retaliate with the acknowledgement that you’re not from his time. It’s your first real argument. What did he expect from you.

You don’t know when you start to actually like him. He’s not the best conversationalist unless he’s talking about fighting or battlefield strategy but he tries to entertain you. Listens intently to what you have to say. Ultimately, Kazan comes off as more genuine than your own fellow survivors. Some of them were nice. Niceness can only go so long here though. You’ll run out at some point. He brings up the last time you talked about why you were in this derelict house and he apologizes. Kazan apologizes so formally that he practically looks like he’s begging forgiveness. For not thinking of you as an individual and instead as a vessel. Finally, putting two and two together, you think he wants children. You stare quietly at him. A pause lingers and then you ask him if you wanted to bear his children, he wouldn’t respect you any less, would he? He tells you that he would crush the souls of 1000 more men should it mean you would bear his line. He would lay their bodies at your feet if it made you happy. Dramatic but fitting for someone like him.

Kazan tries for it as soon as he can. It should be impossible. The entity cannot create life, only steal it. But you allow him to try. Over and over again. Until it takes. Whenever he finishes, he takes to stuffing his seed back inside of you. Careful of his talon-like nails that seem to be made for ripping flesh apart.

After trying so many times, you feel something change. The entity buzzes about you, you can feel it. No one can see it, certainly not you but it’s excited. When Kazan returns from his stand-in profession, he’s visibly happy. Thrilled.

“You are with child.” He almost yells it, he’s so happy. He picks you up and hikes you into his arms.

It’s the birthing that makes you nervous. You're less daunted by the carrying. Kazan dotes on you, more than he had already. Treats you like a glass figurine, passed down generations. You cannot be broken or stressed. You feel like a figurine, alright. The man simply sits you down and admires you. As you swell, he looks at your belly fondly and then to your face. He pets your hair and soothes you.

The birth is painful. So, so, so painful. More than any mori, hook, or cage. Your body rips itself apart for his child. Your child. The baby is covered in blood and birthing fluid and Kazan is smitten. He’s silent, in awe of your creation. The baby is so small, so tiny in his hulking hands.

The child grows and grows. Laughs and gurgles. Kazan cares for it, a wonderful father. He cleans the blood and gore from himself before seeing your child and you watch on as he teaches them to write. Read ancient japanese. Rin is just as caught up with your baby. She’s like an older sister, the best kind. Normal childhood is unattainable but you lament at forcing the child in this world of night. Your child will never see the sun. But you figure that's because your baby is the sun.

Thanks for requesting and I hope you liked it! 💖💖

[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯. — 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞? Overview: Y/N tells Mike information to help their lost friend, she also heads to the search party for Will with Victor. As they explore, the past unravels and there is an odd occurrence that happens. Navigation & Mixtape

Tag: @samiyamuntaha @thepowerstoner @ughgclden @mqyfield @cooperdaysgf

“So right by Mirkwood right?” Mike Wheeler’s voice peeped after listening to Y/N’s remark of details about what she heard at the Hawkins Police Department a few hours ago. It was around 7 pm, right around to where the girl was getting ready prone to the search party being held with a few of the residents of the town.

Y/N hummed a positive response to clearing out his doubts just in case he was confused by any means, this wasn’t going to help Mike, it was going to help Will get a faster chance to be retrieved to his home again.

Although Hopper disapproved the request of letting young people in the search, Y/N and Victor were eventually allowed to come along, “Yeah, but remember you have to be somewhat far from the real search group okay? We don’t want you to get caught.”

”Mike! What are you doing?” Nancy’s faint voice was caught on the other line of the phone, leading Mike to leave the phone out, Y/N overhearing them argue over the dumbest things.

Prior to the noises of Mike pushing Nancy out of the basement she guessed, the boy came back on the line, sighing loudly, “Sorry about that, Nancy gets so annoying, I still don’t know why you still hang out with her.”

”She could be a priss sometimes,” She responds, breathily giggling, clenching the ceramic telephone tighter, “But she’s still my friend if you could say.”

Continuing with their conversation based on the plan, it was perfectly assembled, safe with a high possibility of finding Will, even if it had been a day. Will couldn’t have gone far anyways. Y/N was about to speak, but was suddenly caught off guard as soon as she heard her dad in the hallway, getting prepared for the search.

”Oh shit! I have to go now,” Y/N hushed in a subtle tone, trying her best to keep away Hopper from listening to their discussion, “Remember to be home by 9 at least with flashlights. Stay safe Mike.”

The line went awfully silent, placing back the phone to its regular position on the handset, while it being attached to the wall. Rapidly, spinning to look at her father, trying to act as normal as possible, his brows furrowed at her.

”What were you doing?”

Shrugging it off calmly, Y/N breathily giggles while she put her hands on her hips saying, “I was just checking in with Victor, that’s all.”

Hopper’s eyes widened at her point, clicking his tongue as he started grabbing on his sweater for the frosty night ahead, “Funny, but I just called his mom to let him know that he was coming.”

”Right..” Y/N casually crossed her arms, cursing under her breath before she showed any subtle reaction to what she was up to. Play it cool.

In the silence of her looking around the messy home by the front door, Hopper sharply whistles while slinging the car keys in the air to catch them, making Y/N follow right behind me, pretending as if the few minutes didn’t occur. Feeling the breeze of the autumn air, both the relatives made their way to the vehicle, on their way to the small yet important search for this boy, Will Byers.

As the road got narrower and narrower, the car drove deeper into the dark woods, where Y/N could see the slender trees and branches surrounding them. The starry sky lit up the place with a soft tone of dim blues and grays painted across it on the chilly night. Watching out the window, Y/N squinted her eyes to see a figure from afar waving towards the vehicle, a familiar figure to be Victor. Hopper drove nearer, the headlights being able to guide him to the stop where a small crowd of people were surrounding along with the patrols.

Hopper cleared his throat, while he pushed the breaks down and turned to his daughter, “Hey kid, remember don’t be-“

Without hesitation, Y/N swung the car door open to step out of it, hustled her way to her so called “acquaintance”, Victor. It was more like a friend but she didn’t want to be that close with the boy. Victor wearily smiling at her.

“You seem tired,” Y/N creeps up next to him, watching the small groups of people around the mounds of dead leaves and twigs gathered for the search.

Victor’s voice brings the girl’s attention back to him, he clears his throat, “I mean dealing with Flo is already a lot for me to handle, so I suppose I am.” The two silently chuckled, the frost getting to their noses, “I heard there’s gonna be a chance of rain.”

”Really?”

“Yes really! Haven’t you seen the forecast? I’m even wearing a jacket!” Victor squinted his eyes, his eyewear raising up on the bridge of his nose and the girl shrugged aimlessly.

Y/N scoffed, shoving him slightly, “I think there’s way more important things we need to focus on instead of the weather.”

From afar, Hopper and the policemen indicated all the volunteers to gather around on the sidewalk, near the entrance of the forest. The flashing blue and red lights were turned off from the cars, everyone else preparing for the upcoming search.

”Okay guys!” The chief shouted to direct everyone, “We need to stay in the 5 mile radius from where Will was last scene! Everyone please be careful and remember to blow the whistle if you find anything at all!”

Heads were nodded, agreeing to the directions, Officers Powell and Callahan guided two separate groups from different directions, Y/N having to come along with the third group including her dad. Although the girl was 16, her father wanted to take the best care for her, after Sarah. He wanted to keep her as close as possible, but he knew she was getting older. It was just for today, he can protect her for today, now being aware of a kid disappearing in their town. Maybe one of them was next.

“I guess that’s your call genius,” Y/N told Victor as she pointed towards Powell’s group who were walking to the right side of the woods, the people disappearing one by one into the darkness.

Not budging at all, Victor stood his ground saying, “I think I’ll stick with you for now, there’s just soccer moms hoarding the group for Powell, he has a fan club.”

“You’re not wrong Vic,” She sniggered quietly but failed miserably, letting out a subtle loud laugh, both of the teenagers walking behind their group, down a steep hill leading to the inner nature.

Rushing down first to the bottom, the tall brunette reached his hand out for Y/N who was still at the top, to help her come down to his level, “M’lady?”

”Why thank you, what a gentleman!” Y/N sarcastically gasps, gripping onto his hand to steady herself below, after they jogged closer to the group, flicking their flashlights on to carry on.

Everyone glanced above the branches, the moon shining as the crickets chirped. The crisp wind running across their faces, making the trees shuffle loudly. As flashlights led them with its brightness, they all searched and searched, for any trace of the boy around the area.

Half an hour later, the air became cooler than usual, almost bringing a frostbite to their bare hands. The sound of branches and dead leaves crunching over the few people above them. In the silence, Y/N stayed near Victor and her father, hearing shouts for Will. The realization hit the girl, they were looking for lost Will, Will hasn’t appeared, he was probably in some sort of danger. She fastened her grip on the flashlight, looking around more closely, along with the rest.

”He’s a good student,” Someone decides to break the silence of the leaves and twigs crunching under their feet, Victor and Y/N turned their attention to him as they strolled in the woods.

Hopper cocks an eyebrow up and looks towards the teacher’s direction after the statement, “What?”

”Will. He’s a good student. Great one actually,” He elaborates, smiling sheepishly to lend his hand in front of the chief to introduce himself, “I don’t think we’ve met, Scott Clarke. Teacher, Hawkins Middle. Earth and biology.”

“Don’t you remember he was my teacher back in the day?”

Victor nods agreeing with Y/N’s statement from behind, Hopper reluctantly trying to remember his daughter’s middle school teacher, still not recalling since in those past years where fighting for Y/N’s custody between the parents, “I always had a distaste for science.”

”Well maybe you had a bad teacher,” Mr. Clarke remarks, checking if his flashlight was still operating, trudging closer to the group of three ahead of him.

”Yeah, Ms. Ratliff was a piece of work,” Hopper scoffs jokingly, Y/N doing the same as well, remembering his shitty science teacher from his past years while he studied at Hawkins High.

”Ratliff?” The teacher ponders, realizing that the same teacher still resides in Hawkins after all these years, “You bet. She’s still kicking around believe it or not.”

Victor elaborates in between them, sliding his hands onto his pockets, “I had her when I was in eighth grade a few years back.”

”Oh I believe it Victor. Mummies never die, so they tell me,” Hopper smiles, trying to get his daughter to notice but she dozed off beyond the sight of the woods, ”Sarah, my youngest, galaxies, the universe whatnot.. She always understood all that stuff. I always figured there was enough going down here, I never needed to look elsewhere.”

Y/N flickered her eyes towards her father’s direction after hearing the special name, it wasn’t so special to one, but to her, it was. Sarah, Sarah Hopper her little sister, but soon enough the teacher interrupted, “Maybe I’ll get her in my class I-“

“No, she uh.. she lives with her mom in the city,” He cuts the man off from his statement, Victor widening his eyes on Y/N’s side, knowing fully that wasn’t true.

The girl beside the tall boy looked back at his dark eyes, signaling him to be quiet, Y/N was aware of the fact that everyone in Hawkins knew Sarah’s death. Just because of her own blabbermouth, Steve told everyone including the parents her little secret the young female confessed to.

As much as her dad still wants to deny the fact the little one was gone and resting in peace, staying of his delusion Y/N wished she could have. It was a promise. A promise that everything was okay and there wasn’t nothing to worry about, almost some sort of fairy tale where everything had its happy endings with a happy family which wasn’t it.

“Thanks for coming out, Teach. We really appreciate it.” Hopper clears the air, trudging past them farther into the dark eerie woods, Y/N and Victor repeating his steps behind him.

Once they were  out of the picture and range from hearing, a middle aged woman spoke up next to the teacher, in a hushed tone saying, “She died a few years back.”

”Sorry?” Mr. Clarke shifted his head in bewilderment towards the lady for any clarification from the inadequate statement given.

”His kid.”

The teacher’s eyes widened, observing the two family members mumbling inaudible words behind the brisk trees of the cool night. He didn’t know the Hoppers hid their family, they never talked much about family when it came to projects when Y/N was younger. It seemed like something ever so private not like where many kids shared experiences with their loved ones, they always kept everything about their family closed up. Almost a mystery.

Y/N could hear the soft mumbles of the quiet conversation being exchanged by the lady and her former teacher, she felt sick knowing that her father stays in the delusion of her sister being alive, lying. Lying wasn’t so hard for her, Y/N was almost a professional at it when it came to helping the party in situations. But lying to her dad was different, it was the both of them against the horrid place called the world.

“Is Sarah going to be back?” A small girl walked over to the grown adults who stood at the front door, puffy eyes showing on their faces, as they held a plastic wristband and stuffed tiger after a long day from not seeing her sister. It was already near midnight.

Without any move, the woman, who to be seen was the girl’s mother, bursted into tears, her husband catching her into his arms. The youngling worriedly watched her parents shed tears, a middle aged woman got up from the couch to comfort both of them. Whispers and mumbles being shared between the adults, bringing more tears.

”Mommy?” The girl steadily crept next to her mom’s leg, wrapping her short arms around her waist, pressing her cheek against the woman’s body, “Don’t cry, I’m here.”

Sobs were still heard from the mother, the two of the women held each other tightly while the tall man let go from their hug, kneeling next to the girl’s level, “Y/N, kid-“

”Dad, where’s Sarah?!” Y/N shakily shouted, her stomach feeling uneasy, with her sister not being found. What happened to Sarah? She knew Sarah was going to get better. Why was mom crying? So many questions filled her head, eyes welling up, her father hugging her tightly with all the hurt and love. Y/N noticed the wristband that her father was holding, she peered closely to see a sloppy handwriting shown as the name Sarah, written all over it with the date when she was sent to the hospital.

”Sarah is... gone.”

The little’s watery eyes widened, her bottom lip trembling, she threw her arms around her father, her head leaning onto his shoulder. Her little sister was gone, she was alone now, her heart crumbling into a million pieces. Sarah, Sarah wasn’t here anymore. But it seemed so surreal, it was only yesterday the two sisters laughed about one of the nurses dropping her cup of coffee while getting chemotherapy.

“Dad.. Can she come back?”

Sadly grinning, Hopper wiped the girl’s chubby face from her tears, shaking his head, “I’m sorry kid, she’s not coming back.”

”But she has to! Sarah has to come home with us,” Y/N choked in her tears, her eyes becoming swollen, grabbing the wristband from her father’s large hand, “Sarah can’t leave me alone here. She promised she would stay.”

”Y/N, I know this is difficult but your sister left us. She’s in a better place now.”

Making her cry even more, Y/N’s mother rapidly kneeled next to her husband and daughter, she sniffed, grabbing onto her daughter, “We promised Sarah we would love each other and always stay safe. Forever.”

”Promise?”

Both of the girl’s parents joined in for a tight hug, Y/N fastening her arms around the two others, “Promise. We promise you sweet pea.”

”Y/N! Y/N!” A familiar voice boasted in the ears of Y/N, she focused her attention back to the voice. There was no one beside her by the time she looked around, it was the sounds of the wind and her alone. Her flashlight flickered in her hands, she shook it vigorously to try and turn it back on, but there was nothing coming out of it, just a dimly lit tone guiding her way. Nothing else in her sight except for the trees and moonlight, she tried her best to not overthink this and make her way back to the group.

Every turn she made in the paths, it led her to nowhere, noises filled the aura. Slowly, she began to worry, she wasn’t coming back to the group. Y/N’s head filled itself with thoughts, there was no way she could be lost, last time she was with Victor, rambling about the weather. Where was she? Looking up, she felt small droplets of water dripped onto her face above, Y/N squinted her eyes to avoid the drizzle. The water fell down slowly until it started raining heavier in the air, she wiped her face to dry it off and continue to try to find her way back.

“Dad!” Y/N shouted, wrapping her arms over herself, her hair becoming soaked along the time. She kept shouting and shouting, worry filling her in. The girl was afraid. What if she went missing like Will? Oh no.

Without a precaution, a branch from behind was heard. Y/N whipped her head to the direction, seeing a small human with a white gown rapidly run off to opposite direction, the rain blurring her eyes. Was that Will? Curious, she picked up speed to follow the boy, it may be Will. A chance of relief rushing in as her adrenaline sped up, almost running faster. “Will! It’s me!”

The boy didn’t stop, sprinting faster with his bare feet. Y/N still yelled, slowing her pace down, then picking it back up, going through the trees. An idea came to her, tugging at her metal whistle to her lips, blowing on it. The sound coming off it, maybe attracting people to find her and the boy, it has to be Will. Using her arms to run faster, she suddenly trips over a thick log after not seeing below her because of the wind, sending her to the floor. She whimpers as she felt her ankle burn in a pain, whistling even more.

From the distance, few people to what she could tell came forward to her, rain soaking over her head. Thunder being heard far away, Victor came into the picture to kneel down next to Y/N.

”Hey are you okay?” He worriedly checks on her, receiving a nod. Victor looked around for any possible wounds since he found her on the ground, “We couldn’t find you!”

Y/N hardly paid attention to him and looked afar to see if the boy would turn up again. She held Victor’s jacket to pull him closer, “I think I saw Will! He was running through there I-“

”Chief Hopper coming through, excuse me,” A voice from the crowd of people called in, Hopper bringing himself forward to find his soaking daughter on the ground pointing toward another direction. “What’s wrong?”

Victor moves to tell Hopper while being next to shaking and wet Y/N, “She saw Will.”

[missymurphy1985]

The Extra (part 9)

Warning - illness, mentions of death

Authors Note - I have personal experience of this horrific disease - I hope I don't upset anyone with it, but it's a topic very close to my heart.

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

A month had passed since you'd deleted his number and blocked him. You were staring at the letter in your hand, shaking. You knew this day was coming, but you'd pushed it so far down that you had only truly thought about it when Cillian had told you he loved you.

You'd told Liane the truth. Why you couldn't commit to him, even though you desperately wanted to. Truth be told you'd fallen for him just as hard - and that's exactly why you'd pushed him away. It was bad enough you had to live with this, you couldn't force someone else to. She'd encouraged you to get tested - and you knew she was right. It was time you took your life in your hands once and for all. You'd spent too many years since your mother's and sister's untimely deaths burying it.

Picking up the phone, you dialled the number, heart pounding. The receptionist answered.

"Morning. My name is y/n y/l/n. I had some tests. I've had a letter to say the results are in?"

"Can I ask what the test was for?" The receptionist asked.

"My GP referred me. It's for the breast cancer gene. I'd like to know if I carry it."

"Let me check our records Miss Y/L/N. Yes, I have your results here. Would you be available to come in this afternoon? We've had a cancellation?"

"Can you not tell me over the phone?"

"I'm not allowed to, the doctor has requested to see you in person." Your heart lurched, that was never a good sign.

You immediately wanted to call Cillian, but remembered you didn't have his contact details any more. You called Liane instead. She would pick you up at 2pm and go with you to the appointment.

Sat in the waiting room, Liane held you hand to calm you. Your nerves were in tatters. This disease had already taken so much from you - your mum, your older sister, two cousins... You knew there was a strong chance it was going to take you, too. The doctor called you through.

"Your results are here y/n. And I'm pleased to inform you -"

"What?" You gasped. The doctor smiled and took your hands in hers.

"Y/n, you don't carry the gene. It isn't there - your chances of developing breast cancer are no higher than mine, or Joan Bloggs on the street. You're going to be okay." Even the doctor had tears in her eyes. Liane was gobsmacked. You just burst into tears.

"I'm not going to die?"

"Oh honey if I had the cure for that I'd be a millionaire!" She laughed, you did too. You felt like the world had just been lifted off your shoulders, taking a dark cloud with it. A dark cloud you'd been living with for nearly 10 years. The real reason you'd split with your ex. The reason you refused to get your breasts out for auditions. The real reason you backed away from a life in acting. You didn't see the point if you weren't going to be here for the long haul... But now?

Now you'd been given a new life. A new start. And your thrown away the best chance of happiness you'd ever had in one stupid click of a button.

Liane noticed your sadness in the car on the way home. You suddenly realised you weren't actually heading home though, you were on the M6 heading to Wolverhampton.

"Erm.. where are we going?" You asked, seeing the sign for Wolverhampton fly past.

"Road trip."

"Destination?"

"It's a surprise!! Do you trust me?"

"Always..."

"Then don't ask questions."

You rolled your eyes and figured you were probably en route to Bicester Village in Oxford. That was your happy place - a day of shopping, good food, few drinks in the evening... Before long though, your eyelids grew heavy. You always fell asleep on car journeys, this one was no different. Within ten minutes you were out cold.

You felt Liane nudge you gently, waking you. Opening your eyes, you looked around, expecting to see the car park. Instead you saw terraced houses, a green park, and a street sign with 'London Borough - Kilburn' on it.

"Why am I in London??" You asked. Liane shrugged her shoulders.

"Fancied a change - never been before! Just got on the motorway and drove. Been years since we've done that hasn't it! Just drove with no destination?" You grinned, remembering the random road trips you used to take years ago. You'd ended up all over the UK, even catching a ferry to Amsterdam one Friday night just because you were bored!

"So what's the plan?"

"Let's go explore!" She paid for the parking via an app on her phone and you both climbed out the car. The houses were all Victorian style and beautiful. The park was glorious - the sun shining on it beautifully. Liane suggested a picnic in the park first to line your stomachs, then cocktails.

"Aren't you driving us home later?"

"Yes - I'll be on the mocktails! Come on, let's go find food... There's loads of little deli places over there!"

Picnic done, it was cocktail time. Sadly, there didn't appear to be a cocktail bar anywhere near... But there was a nice looking pub over the road. Settling on a normal G&T, you both made your way over. Liane sent you inside to get the drinks while she sat in the beer garden out the back.

Heading outside with two G&Ts, you looked around for her but she was nowhere to be found. You quickly scanned inside again just to make sure you'd not missed her. Setting the drinks down on a bench outside, you waited. Must've gone to the toilet. Taking your phone out you sent her a text letting her know where you were.

Ten minutes passed - still no sign. You were worried now. A ping on your phone.

"For god's sake woman open your eyes and look in the corner!!" Liane... What the hell? You looked up and nearly dropped your phone. Sitting ten feet away from you, on his own... Holding his phone in his hand and staring at you the same way you were staring at him. In complete disbelief.

He looked back at his phone and shook his head. Both of you realising you'd been set up. Completely played.

He stood up, you were convinced he was going to leave but he didn't. He sat opposite you instead.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hey..."

"Can I talk before you do?" He asked. You nodded.

"I know... I didn't... Fuck this makes so much more sense in my head..." He laughed.

"Can I talk instead?" He nodded. You took a deep breath and told him the truth. About your family. The deaths. The illness. The tests.. and the results.

"That's why I pushed you away. That's why I push everyone away. But you were the first one I pushed that I regretted... I regretted it so much because no one had ever made me feel as alive as you did. No one made me float on air like you did. No one made me forget about this cloud hanging over me like you did..."

"You thought I'd leave you if you had the gene?"

"My Dad left when my mom was diagnosed. He couldn't handle it so he bailed. Wasn't a great role model."

"Your dad's a dick. I'm not." His brutal, dead pan response made you laugh. In fact you didn't just laugh, you were in hysterics. He laughed with you, and took your hands in his.

"If I promise not to tell you I love you, will you let me see you?"

"No."

"Erm... Okay?"

"I want you to tell me you love me, if you mean it. Then I'll decide."

"Y/N... I. Love. You. I fucking love you. I adore you. I've had the most miserable four weeks of my life thanks to you!" He laughed.

"Yeah I'm sorry about that.."

"It's okay. You can make it up to me."

"You're giving me a second chance?"

"I never gave up on the first one. But this time, we take it slow. Get to know each other. I'll start by asking if I can take you out to dinner tonight?"

"I have nothing with me... All my stuff's at home..."

"Fair enough. Then we have two choices. You go shopping with Liane and get yourself something.. or go home and we can arrange to meet another time?"

"I'm already here, and shopping was on our to do list. Dinner tonight sounds lovely."

"Unblock my number. I'll text you the details later, okay?" He finished his drink and pulled his jacket on, quickly typing a text as you unblocked his number. If only you'd known it was that easy to get his contact details again... The message pinged through.

"Thank you..." You smiled reading it. He leaned over and kissed your cheek softly, before walking away. Glancing back, smiling, as he left the pub.

Liane was with you in seconds.

"You sneaky little shit, how did you do this??" You laughed.

"Anto contacted me last week, said he was sick of Cillian moping. We kinda worked together... Are you mad at me?"

"Not at all. Where's Anto?"

"Right here." Anto appeared out of nowhere and you threw your arms around him.

"Thank you. For everything?"

"No need to thank me. This was Liane's idea. Bit of a rush to sort once you'd got those results but luckily you live 3 hours away and you sleep like the dead!" He laughed. "Now get yourself gone - you have a date to prepare for!"

[carry-the-sky]

Kastle + 2 for the touch writing prompts 💕

based on the prompt: a touch with relief

also on ao3

shout out to @onebatch2batch and @ninzied 💕

.

She’s late.

Frank’s eyes dart to his phone. Screen’s dark, same as it was when he glanced at it a minute ago. No missed calls, no texts. He swigs his coffee, more to swallow down the muted panic in his throat than anything else.

“Fresh cup for your friend, honey?”

Frank looks up. The waitress—Jo, her name tag reads—is nodding at the mug of coffee he ordered for Karen when he got here.

His eyes linger on it a moment before he shakes his head. “I’m good, ma’am. She’s, uh—she’s on her way.”

Frank must look as keyed-up as he feels, because Jo offers him a gentle smile. “You got it,” she says. “Just holler when she gets here, okay?”

Then she’s walking off. Probably assumes he got stood up by a date, and hell—he almost wishes that’s what this was. At least he could shrug that off, carry on with his day instead of sitting across from an empty booth, chest slowly going tight with dread.

Frank pushes back from the table, forces himself to breathe. Maybe something came up at work—a deadline got pushed up or a source backed out last-minute and Ellison’s got her holed up at the office doing damage control—

His hand twitches for his phone. They’ve been meeting for lunch pretty regularly for the past month or so, but Karen always shoots him a text the day before to confirm. He scans her last message in their thread—Tomorrow still good? Same place as last week?—and something in his chest twinges. Maybe it’s an occupational hazard, or maybe it’s just her way of making sure he won’t bail—either way, Frank can’t blame her. He’s far from atoning for the way he left things that day at the hospital. It’s a small miracle she let him back into her life at all.

Frank’s eyes flick to the time at the top of the screen. It’s going on twenty past the hour. Hell with it—maybe he’s being paranoid, but his gut says something’s off. He hits the call button next to her name.

It goes straight to voicemail.

His pulse stutters. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean—

He tries her again.

Hi, you’ve reached Karen Page. Please leave your name and number and I’ll get back—

Shit. Frank swipes over to his contacts, scrolls until he finds the number for the Bulletin’s front desk.

“New York Bulletin,” a cheerful voice answers on the second ring. “How may I direct your call?”

“Is Karen Page in?” he asks, straining to keep his voice steady.

He knows what the answer will be, but it still lands like a gut-punch when the receptionist tells him that Ms. Page is currently out of the office. His hand is shaking when he hangs up.

Jo is making the rounds again, and Frank doesn’t miss the sympathetic glance she shoots in his direction. He takes a deep breath through his nose, slow and steady to counter the hammer of his heart. He needs to focus, think.

Hanging around her office is a non-starter—he’s let his beard grow out, but his face has been plastered across the front page enough times that the damn receptionist would probably recognize him now. He could try Karen’s place on the off chance she ran home—

Frank’s fingers twitch against his phone. He should get up, move, do something other than sit here with this familiar tension cranking up his sternum. One thought spins on a turntable in his head—something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. He let his guard down, let himself breathe for one goddamn second, and now—if something happened to her—

The world narrows, tilts like a kaleidoscope. He needs air.

He’s dimly aware of standing, tossing a few bills on the table before he’s out the door. The street is thick with noise—people laying on their horns, distant sirens, someone shouting. He focuses on each individual sound, anchors his breath to the steady thrum of the city around him.

He’s not sure how long he stands there—a few minutes, maybe. Long enough for his vision to stop swimming, for the pounding in his ears to subside. Long enough to register his phone, buzzing in his hand.

Her number’s flashing across the screen.

Frank fumbles to answer, almost dropping his phone in the process. “Karen, hey—”

“Frank,” she replies, and relief floods his veins at the sound of her voice. “I’m so sorry—my phone decided to automatically update right as I was leaving for lunch, and then when you didn’t show—I was getting worried.”

He frowns, trying to process her words. “Where—where are you?”

“Sal’s. Why, didn’t you—” she pauses. “Wait, did you go to Cinco’s?”

Frank turns her text from last night over in his head. Same place as last week. They definitely grabbed lunch at Cinco’s—he’d ordered extra steak fries with his burger, just to let her swipe a few from his plate—but, shit, that’s right—they’d swung by a new place afterwards for dessert, some local café that had just opened.

We should try this place for lunch sometime, Karen had said in between bites of her raspberry scone. Frank remembers the dusting of sugar across her upper lip, remembers the small heart attack it gave him when she’d licked it clean.

“Think there might’ve been a misunderstanding,” he tells her now, cheeks warm. Karen just laughs in response as it all clicks together, and Frank lets the sound wash over him, the warmth of it dissolving the tension in his chest. She’s laughing. She’s okay.

“Lesson learned,” she says. “Be more specific. And make sure the phone isn’t going to update.”

“Wouldn’t be a problem if you had one like mine.”

“Not a chance. There’s old-fashioned, and then there’s prehistoric.” There’s a beat of silence, and he knows she’s smiling on the other end of the line. “Listen, I have to head back early today, but are you free for lunch tomorrow? I owe you some fries from Cinco’s, at the very least.”

“Works for me,” Frank says. “Sure you don’t wanna write that down, just to be safe? That’s C-I-N—”

“Shut up, Frank.”

It’s his turn to grin. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” she echoes.

He stays on the line until she hangs up, weightless with relief even as his blood still hums with adrenaline. It was just a miscommunication—but when his eyes squeeze shut, he’s right back in that hotel watching Lewis drag her into the elevator, praying to whoever the fuck was listening that she’d still be breathing when he got to her.

He knew, even then, what it would mean to lose her. Lose her without her ever knowing—

Make it mean something.

About damn time he did.

.

Karen’s waiting for him when he gets there the next day, sitting in the same booth he was. Her eyes snap to him as he pushes through the front door, and then she’s standing, and somehow before he’s fully aware it’s happening, he’s pulling her close, burying his face in the slope of her neck, breathing her in.

She’s warm. Her arms cinch around his shoulders, drawing him in even closer, and he smells something floral, soft and clean when her hair brushes his cheek. They stay like that a moment, holding onto each other—then she gently pulls back, and the loss of contact aches like a bruise. As he slides into the booth across from her, it’s all he can do to keep from reaching for her again.

Jo comes by with coffee, gives Frank a wink that could be seen from outer space as she slides Karen a mug. When he ducks a glance at Karen, she’s pressing her lips together like she’s trying not to smile.

“How long were you sitting here yesterday?” she asks.

Frank grips his own mug tightly to keep his fingers from shaking. “Not long. Felt like—longer than it was.”

He tries to keep his voice light, but he never did have a very good poker face. And they don’t do that. They don’t lie to each other.

When he looks again, Karen’s face has softened. She reaches across the table, rests a hand against his forearm. “Frank—”

He recognizes her tone of voice, knows she’s about to apologize for something that’s not her fault. After all his bullshit, everything he’s put her through—she’s still the one telling him she’s sorry. She’s still all heart. The ache in his chest digs its roots in, blooms until he can hardly breathe.

“Hey.” He tilts his head to catch her gaze, holds it. “I’m good. Yeah? Might chuck your phone in the Hudson first chance I get, but—”

He’s hoping the jab will pull a smile from her, and it almost does. Her mouth crinkles at the corners. “Still,” she says. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

He just looks at her—eyes bright and blue and open, and shit, he’s gonna kick himself for the rest of his life for taking his sweet time telling her exactly what she means to him. He slowly turns his arm until his hand grazes her wrist, her palm, and then he’s threading his fingers through hers.

“I’m always gonna worry, Karen. I know you can handle yourself, that’s not what—” he cuts off as she gives his hand a gentle squeeze, swallows thickly before saying— “You’re the most important person in my life. You’re everything. I’m never gonna not worry.”

Now she’s smiling, mouth curved like a moon as she looks down at his hand in hers. “You mean that, Frank?”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get off my ass about it, but—this thing, Karen, you and me—if you’re in, I’m in. I’m all in.”

He’s not sure it’s happening until it’s happening—one second Karen’s leaning across the booth, the next her lips are on his.

He barely has time to process the softness of her mouth, the warmth of her hand cupping his jaw, before she’s sitting back, looking as stunned as he feels.

“I take it back,” he says, a little hoarse. “What I said about your phone. Damn thing should update every day.”

Karen just laughs, and they both lean in again.

[batarangsoundsdumb]

guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥A Thought For a Thought🔥

~~~

It was subtle, but (Y/N) could tell he was struggling. The young Squad Leader watched out of the corner of her eye as the newly promoted Captain Levi looked over the reports in front of him, his eyes darting back and forth over the words and his brow almost imperceptibly furrowed. She watched him as he huffed a quiet breath and turned to another report instead, his eyes scanning the page furiously, as if he were searching for the key to some great revelation.

(Y/N) knew the truth. She had never told anyone, never planned to, but thanks to the significant amount of time she spent with the surly Captain, ordered by Erwin to help him manage his workload, (Y/N) could tell. Levi couldn’t read. He had never mentioned it to anyone, had never voiced his concerns with the mountains of paperwork on his desk. He only sat alone in the late hours of the night, trying to discreetly teach himself without anyone knowing that Humanity’s Strongest Soldier was illiterate.

(Y/N) lightly nibbled on the end of her pen as she watched him, pretending to be reading the document in front of her. She was worried about him. She barely knew him other than her brief interactions with him while they worked, but she could see the weight of the stress on his shoulders, see the quick flickers of anxiety flash in his eyes every time he saw the increasing workload on his desk. It also didn’t help that the other soldiers still treated him like shit due to his background. He was a Captain now, so nobody would outright insult him, especially if they wanted to keep all of their limbs, but she knew he knew about the rumors, the whispers, the sneers as he walked past.

Many of the soldiers either hated him for his very sudden promotion or were disgusted by him because of where he came from. It made (Y/N) grit her teeth in anger. People were always so quick to judge, not even caring when his two best friends died, a few of them even insinuating that they deserved to die because of their lives in the Underground.

(Y/N) knew that not only would admitting his struggle with reading and writing make him even more of a target for condescending remarks, but also that nobody would be willing to help him. Nobody would care about a rude, violent man from the slums just because he couldn’t read.

She knew she had to do something. She had been ordered to help Levi when Erwin had noticed that nothing was being turned back in to him, but she knew it couldn’t go on like this forever. Besides, (Y/N) loved to read. She loved books more than anything, they were her escape into a different reality, a whole new world to explore with millions of characters to fall in love with. She had lived a thousand lives, died a thousand deaths, loved millions of times through books, and it made her sad that he couldn’t experience that same joy, especially since it was a great way to relieve stress, something that she knew he desperately needed.

Setting her remaining reports aside, (Y/N) stood and made her way to the Captain, catching his attention as she took a seat at his desk in the chair right across from him.

“Squad Leader (Y/N)? What do you need?” Levi asked gruffly.

(Y/N) heard his rough tone, but she thought she almost saw a flash of relief flicker in his eyes at her distraction, as he placed the reports he had been trying to tackle back on his desk in front of him. Folding his hands in his lap, he leaned back in his chair.  (Y/N) took a deep breath and looked him right in the eye when she spoke.

“You can’t read, sir. Please, let me help you.”

Levi froze immediately, his whole body tensing as he glared daggers at the woman in front of him. His eyebrow raised when she did not flinch away from the dark glower that usually sent grown men running.

“I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t tell anyone, I promise, I just want to help you.”

“Why the fuck do you want to help me?” Levi asked.

“Because I can tell you’re struggling, sir, and I want you to be able to do your job effectively. Also, I love to read, and I think you’d really come to enjoy it once you learn how to do it properly.”

“What’s the catch?” Levi asked with an eyebrow raised.

“There is no catch, only that you have to work harder to save humanity by doing the reports on your desk, once you learn what’s actually on them.”

Levi contemplated her for a moment. Despite his inability to read words, he could read people pretty well, and he could tell she didn’t have any malicious intent, but he just couldn’t help but feel suspicious. He already felt a little exposed at the idea that she had discovered his secret, all on her own at that, meaning he was showing more weakness than he originally thought, but he also couldn’t deny that it was a tempting offer.

He continued to appraise her, and even though (Y/N) had the urge to turn away under his intense gaze, she held her own against him, standing tall and showing him that she had nothing to hide. When his silver eyes finally met her’s again, she could tell he was going to accept her offer, the small twinkle of hopefulness that glimmered in his eye making her heart flutter. She knew he wanted to learn, he just struggled with accepting help from others.

Finally, he nodded once, and moved his chair over slightly so she could slide up beside him and position herself at his desk. He was a little stiff, his body tense at the feeling of her being so close to him, right in the center of his personal bubble, but he eventually loosened up a bit as she gathered the reports on his desk and began teaching him the basics.

______________________________

He looked up when the door to his office opened. Not only was it late at night, past curfew for most soldiers, but (Y/N) was the only one who was allowed to come into his office without knocking, so he knew exactly who it was when he heard the squeak of the door handle.

(Y/N) came into his office facing away from him, using her back to push open the door before making her way to him holding a tray with two tea cups, a teapot, and some small cookies. His mouth watered as she came closer and he nodded at her gratefully, taking a cookie and popping it into his mouth. Usually he wasn’t a huge fan of sweets but he had learned, the more time he spent with her, that (Y/N) was an amazing baker and always made them just right for him. He hummed as the delectable taste melted on his tongue before looking down at the finished reports in front of him.

It had been a few months since (Y/N) had started teaching him how to read and write and he was already making significant progress. (Y/N) was an amazing teacher. She was always so patient with him, even when he was being moody, always encouraging him to keep trying until it finally started to click for him. She had started out with doing most of his reports for him, writing out what he wanted to say and then helping him write different sentences from the report on a separate sheet of paper, taking special care to teach him about each letter.

There were some nights where she even read to him from one of the many books she kept in her room, letting him just relax and close his eyes while laying on the couch, letting himself sink into the world of the novel and forget the problems of his real life for a couple of hours. There were other nights where she would randomly flip it on him, and have him read to her, helping him with pronunciations and challenging him with more difficult words and phrases each day. 

He normally didn’t care about other people’s opinions, but something about the sincerity in her voice, the light in her eyes when she complimented him; it made him feel so special. On top of everything, she had kept her word and refused to tell a soul, even leaving his secret out of her reports to Erwin each time. He could tell in the way that nobody treated him with more malice than usual, something he was immensely grateful for.

He had to keep from smiling as he thought about her, his grey eyes appraising her as she sat down on the couch with her small bag, her eyes focused on the contents inside while she dug through it, looking for her supplies.

“What’s on the schedule for today, (Y/N)?” Levi asked, moving his reports to the side.

(Y/N) looked back at him and smiled, her eyes glimmering with mischief in a way that had him narrowing his gaze at her.

“Oi, brat, what was that look for?”

“Oh, nothing,” (Y/N) replied cheekily, making Levi grumble to himself while he waited impatiently for her to finish organizing her things.

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s nothing bad.”

“I don’t believe you.”

(Y/N) snickered at Levi’s blunt remark, reaching for a notebook, a sheet of paper, and a pen from the pile of things she had brought with her. (Y/N) ignored Levi’s grimace of disgust at the mess of things she left on the couch and approached his desk.

“Today, Levi, we are going to be practicing cursive. You will need it for writing letters to the nobles, merchants, and any other groups of people who are associated with the nobility. They will be much more likely to reject requests or ignore your message if it doesn’t look neat and curvy,” (Y/N) said, rolling her eyes in disdain for the nobles and their stupid rules.

Levi scoffed but did not argue. (Y/N) knew he was just reacting to the nobles, his disgust surrounding them carrying over from his days in the Underground. Opening the notebook, (Y/N) flipped to the page where she had spent hours meticulously writing out each individual cursive letter as clearly as possible for Levi to use as a learning tool. Moving around the desk, (Y/N) turned the notebook around for him to see and started by teaching him each individual letter, just as she had done when teaching him normal lettering and spelling.

Levi got a little frustrated with some of the more difficult letters, their shapes and curves making it difficult for him to make them smooth and neat, but he was catching on quickly, taking (Y/N)’s lessons and rolling with them.

When he was finally ready, (Y/N) flipped to a different page in her notebook where she had written out sentences for him to practice, reaching over to grab the blank sheet of paper for him to work on and handing him the pen she had brought.

(Y/N) stood from his desk with a stretch, claiming she had to deliver the stack of finished reports on Levi’s desk to Erwin before the Commander turned in for the night, grabbing the stack and making her way to the door.

“I want you to copy down those sentences until you fill up that entire page, front and back, okay Levi? I’ll check your work when I get back,” (Y/N) threw over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.

 Levi, meanwhile, was a little stunned, his face flushing a bit.

“(Y/N) is smarter than Levi.”

“(Y/N) is more attractive than Levi.”

“(Y/N) is stronger than Levi.”

“(Y/N) is a better Squad Leader than Levi.”

Levi stared at the page for a moment before bursting into laughter. It wasn’t a loud laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless, the quiet sound filling the empty office as he read each sentence again. Levi shook his head at her antics, smiling despite himself as he got right to work.

______________________________

By the time (Y/N) came back into the room, he had filled almost the entire page, his letters getting more elegant with each sentence. He nodded at her when she came in, one that she returned in kind, before he bent back down to finish his assignment. (Y/N) picked up the book she brought with her and read a few pages on the couch while she waited for him to finish, the sound of his pen scratching against the page; the only sound in the small office.

“Done,” Levi said gruffly after a short while, prompting (Y/N) to close her book and walk over to him, a smile teasing at the corners of her lips.

“Let me see what you did,” (Y/N) said, holding her hand out.

Levi handed her the page with a huff, muttering something about her being a pain in his ass. (Y/N) chuckled, knowing he didn’t mean it before looking at the page he had handed her.

“HEY!” (Y/N) shouted suddenly, throwing a glare at the raven-haired man.

“What is it?” Levi asked innocently.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Levi, you know exactly what it is!” (Y/N) said with a playful pout, glaring at the glimmer in eyes.

“I won’t know ‘what it is’ if you don’t tell me, brat,” Levi said with a smirk.

“You wrote all of the sentences backwards!” (Y/N) said, turning the page around for him to see.

“Levi is smarter than (Y/N).”

“Levi is more attractive than (Y/N).”

“Levi is stronger than (Y/N).”

“Levi is a better Squad Leader than (Y/N).”

At the bottom of the page, Levi had even written in beautiful cursive:

“(Y/N) is a pain in my ass.”

(Y/N) glared at Levi again when he pretended to analyze the page, his brows furrowing.

“I am so sorry (Y/N), I guess I just read your example sentences wrong. You know how I struggle with reading, especially with this new fancy lettering, my eyes must have just rearranged the words without me knowing. I was wondering why you were so enamored with me when I read it the first time,” Levi said in a monotone voice, keeping the smirk that was straining to ride across his face from showing itself.

(Y/N) huffed and placed both hands on her hips, tilting her head in exasperation despite the twitching of her lips as she tried to keep her features straight.

“Sure you did,” (Y/N) said, sarcasm dripping from her words before she finally caved, letting a bright smile flash across her lips.

Levi’s breath caught at the sight of that beaming smile, but he shoved down the feeling that rose in his throat. Shaking his head, Levi allowed himself to give up the title of Captain for a moment, and let his own lips curve into a smile.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully, ignoring her fluttering heart, before moving back to her chair and pulling out a new sheet of paper, directing him to write the sentences correctly this time.

“I’m pretty sure this is emotional abuse,” Levi deadpanned, earning him a light slap on the arm from the back of her hand.

“It is not!”

“Really? Because I think my feelings are hurt now.”

“Oh for god sakes…”

The two bantered back and forth while they worked until the moon was starting to sink below the horizon, the night sky turning from black to a navy blue. Standing up with a yawn and a stretch, (Y/N) gathered her things and made her way to the door.

“Goodnight Captain, see you tomorrow,” (Y/N) said with a wink and a smile, closing the door gently behind her.

Levi let out a grunt of annoyance but couldn’t deny the warm feeling that was heating his heart and making his nerves tingle as he stared at the door she had just disappeared through, the page of sentences about them still clutched in his palm.

________________________

Levi knew it was his idea to keep everything a secret, knew it was him who told (Y/N) to act professional around him when they weren’t in the safety of his office late at night, but now, as the meeting he was in dragged on forever, Levi felt as if he would give anything to be able to participate in their normal banter, her good sense of humor and sweet voice always turning his bad days around. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to regret making everything secret. He found himself wanting to sit next to her when they ate in the Mess Hall, wanting to spar with her during training, wanting to invite her on a horseback ride around the base.

He shook his head to redirect his train of thought, trying to force himself to focus on the map Erwin was going over for the next mission. He trained his gaze on Erwin’s finger, watching as the giant blonde traced a trail on the map, explaining where each squad was going to be located. But his mind kept straying, against his will, to the woman sitting beside him. He had the urge to brush his shoulder against hers like he sometimes did during their midnight sessions. He then had the worse urge to place his hand on her thigh, to run his fingers along her covered flesh and trace random patterns on her pant leg.

Levi blinked a few times, desperately trying to get himself out of this rut before he did something stupid like act on said urges. He knew (Y/N) probably wouldn’t even react if he touched her leg, maybe a confused look in his direction, or maybe even the light flushing of her cheeks, but it was the other people in the meeting he was worried about. He knew that for them, if he did something like that, it would be completely uncalled for.

He was starting to get really frustrated with himself, his thoughts caving in on themselves no matter how hard he tried to redirect his focus on the meeting. He wanted nothing more than for it to be the middle of the night, back in the safety of his office with (Y/N) by his side, laughing with him and making him feel more human than he had ever felt, and his heart knew that; was using it against him.

Suddenly, all of his senses narrowed to the feeling of something lightly brushing his own thigh. Glancing down as subtly as possible, Levi’s eyes widened as he saw (Y/N)’s hand resting lightly against his leg, a small piece of paper held in between her thumb and pointer finger. Levi was careful not to draw attention to himself as he reached down and took the paper from her, trying to ignore the cold feeling that washed over his body when she drew her hand back.

Pretending to read the notes in front of him, Levi opened the piece of paper, making sure nobody was watching him with quick glances around the room. Luckily, everyone around him was focused on the map Erwin was using, which gave him enough time to glance down at the tiny piece of paper.

“Why don’t we do some reading and writing practice since you’re obviously so entertained by this meeting? What are you thinking about?”

Levi fought the urge to snort and grabbed his pen, subtly writing his own note and passing it back in the same way she did for him.

“Why the hell should I tell you?”

He saw (Y/N) smile out of the corner of his eye and his lips twitched. (Y/N) stashed the note in her pocket and picked up her own pen to write another.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking if you tell me. A thought for a thought.”

Levi wrote back.

“Will it be worth it?” 

“I guess you will just have to find out.”

Levi really fought back a smirk that time and was quick to write back a response, glancing up every so often to make sure nobody was watching them. This was a dance between the two of them, no spectators needed.

“Fine. I’m thinking that this meeting is stupid and I want to go back to my office.”

(Y/N) smiled when she read his note.

“What else?”

“What do you mean, ‘what else’? That’s what I was thinking.”

“Levi…”

“God damn it, fine! I was thinking that I wish we could talk outside of my office.”

Levi watched nervously as (Y/N)’s brow furrowed when she read his note, her reply slower in its delivery this time.

“Why would you want to talk to me?”

Levi frowned.

“I’m not answering that. It’s well past my turn. It’s your turn now, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that Erwin has large bushy eyebrows.”

Levi raised an eyebrow at her note before responding.

“That’s stupid.”

“It’s what I was thinking! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was the award for the most philosophical train of thought ceremony.”

Levi had to stop himself from chuckling at that one, resulting in a low coughing sound that made Erwin pause.

“Levi, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine Erwin, just a cough, proceed.”

Erwin watched Levi for a second before shrugging his shoulders and going back to the plans in front of him, moving on from talking about the route to the battle tactics they were going to have to use on the mission. Levi had to refrain from rolling his eyes as he heard Erwin talk. Levi already knew all of this, this meeting was nothing more than a waste of time.

A light tap on his thigh reminded him of their previous little game before Erwin interrupted, and Levi quickly moved to write her back.

“It’s not, brat. But I know you better than that, what were you really thinking?”

“Alright, alright, I’m thinking that you’re right, this meeting is boring, and I wish I could talk to you outside of your office too.”

“Why would you want to talk to me?”

Levi subtly smiled at her when she flashed him a glare at the mocking message on the note she had gotten from him.

“Because despite your main personality facet being dickhead, you actually can be less of an asshole sometimes. Sometimes I even kind of like you.”

“Like me? Are you feeling alright, (Y/N)? Maybe I should take you to the infirmary…”

“I know right? Something must be wrong with me.”

“Alright, that concludes today’s meeting. Remember to prepare yourselves, all of our missions are difficult, but this one could be devastating if we aren’t careful,” Erwin said, bringing (Y/N) and Levi out of their own world and back into the meeting.

“Yes sir!” the collective voices of the soldiers in the room rang out, each one saluting the Commander before filing out.

Levi looked at the Commander for a minute while he saluted him, his eyes narrowing on his face. When they had been dismissed, Levi turned and, when he was sure nobody was watching, leaned down to whisper in (Y/N)’s ear.

“You’re right, Erwin does have bushy eyebrows.”

________________________________

After that meeting in Erwin’s office, (Y/N) and Levi couldn’t stop the game they had started. The pair would find any excuse to meet each other and exchange notes, sometimes hiding them in the most ridiculous places for the other to find.

Levi found one stashed under his tea cup in the cupboard when he went to brew himself some of the calming brew one morning. (Y/N) found one rolled up and hidden neatly in between the cogs of her ODM gear. It was a dance, a game that the two of them shared, both of them entertaining the other with conversations about nothing and everything. They found it was the perfect way to further solidify their surprisingly strong friendship without everyone else asking questions about why they were so close in the first place, Levi still wanting to keep his past illiteracy a secret.

Good morning, Levi! Thought for a thought: I am thinking that you are an ass for making us work so hard yesterday during training. I’m pretty sure my legs are useless now, gone forever. Maybe as punishment I should make you practice writing love letters to every female cadet in the Survey Corps. Have a good day!

~(Y/N)

Levi chuckled as he read the note he had found tucked up in the nameplate on his door that morning, immediately moving back into his office to write her back.

Morning (Y/N). Thought for a thought: You’re a drama queen. Do you want to survive in this world or not? If your legs are gone, they will come back. Also, if you make me write love letters to the women of the Corps, I will end you. Have a good day yourself.

~Levi

Levi pocketed the note and left his office to start the day, eager to hide the note in (Y/N)’s coffee tin.

____________________________

(Y/N) smiled as she read Levi’s note, her eyes sparkling with mirth. It was just so him. She could almost hear him telling her that he was going to end her in person, his eyes narrowed and his brow creased in annoyance at the thought of writing love letters. It made (Y/N) giggle lightly, waving off her friends when they gave her confused looks.

Thought for a thought: Good point. I guess I would rather have sore legs than death. It was kind of a toss up at first, didn’t really know which one I’d prefer, but I guess you’re right. All kidding aside though, that mission is coming up tomorrow, are you doing okay? I don’t want to stress you out, so maybe we shouldn’t do our reading session tonight? We both need to get some rest and the last thing I want is for you to be distracted. Take care of yourself and please don’t die tomorrow.

~(Y/N)

(Y/N) put the note in her pocket and rejoined her friends, who were waving at her to follow them to the training grounds for one last field test of the ODM gear. (Y/N) touched the note in her pocket, figuring she could put it in one of Levi’s sword slots on his gear set. She felt surprisingly sad at the thought of not being able to spend the night hanging out with Levi, but she knew he needed to focus. He was important, not just to the Corps but to her. The surly Captain had definitely grown on her ever since she had been assigned by Erwin to help him with his paperwork, especially since she started teaching him how to read and write. She just wanted to keep him safe. 

She would easily consider him to be her closest friend, the one who knew the most about her, her tongue becoming magically loose when she was around him. But he had never judged her, never told a soul any of what she said, always just listening silently, his entire attention focused on her. She sighed and touched the paper in her pocket again, reminding herself that even though he was the strongest person she knew, he was also still human and needed to be protected at all costs.

Raising her head up, (Y/N) set her face in determination and slipped the note into his gear as she put her own equipment on, readying herself for her final flight test within the safety of the walls before she was exposed to the hell of the world in the morning.

____________________________

Levi had felt his heart sink when he read (Y/N)’s note. He knew she was right, they both needed rest and staying up until the early hours of the morning, reading to each other, was not the best way to go about that, but it still made him upset. 

The two of them had developed a routine. She came to his office every night after the curfew of the soldiers. What had started out as a secret way for Levi to learn how to read had morphed into a time when the both of them could just be themselves. It was the only time where Levi allowed himself to smile, to laugh, to crack jokes and to act playful. He loved how (Y/N) made him feel genuinely human, not Humanity’s Strongest, not Captain Levi of the Survey Corps, just Levi.

He loved how she called him names without worrying about being punished. He loved how she teased him and challenged him in ways no other person ever had, aside from Isabel maybe. But even then, the sweet, energetic redhead had seen him as more of a brother rather than a friend, and hadn’t treated him in the same way (Y/N) did. The way they interacted was different than any other friendship Levi had ever had.

Sighing, Levi wrote (Y/N) back saying that he agreed with her, and placed the note on the bar of her left stirrup on her saddle. Once he was sure the note was in a place nobody else would see, Levi left the stable where he had been taking care of his horse and headed back to his office, readying himself for his last night in the safety of the walls.

___________________________

Levi tossed and turned in his bed, one leg under the covers and one leg out, his body both too hot and too cold as he tried fruitlessly to get comfortable. He was normally prone to insomnia, but this was one of the worst episodes he’d ever had. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew why.

An image of (Y/N) flashed across his mind and he growled in frustration. She had to be fast asleep by now, there was no point in even entertaining the idea of seeing her. He just needed to get a grip on himself and go the fuck to sleep. He had never had a problem with sleeping by himself before, he could do this. Just because he hadn’t spent a couple of hours hanging out with (Y/N) didn’t mean anything. He could do this.

Levi took deep breaths, trying to force himself to relax. He closed his eyes and rolled over, moving his hands and legs into different positions, trying anything to fall asleep. When all of his attempts failed, he was just about ready to bite the bullet and start getting ready for the very long day ahead of him when he heard the sound of his door being opened very quietly.

Levi looked over, his eyes narrowed, ready to tear someone a new asshole when he froze. Standing in the doorway, shuffling her feet nervously, was (Y/N). Levi felt like he could’ve cried in relief, her presence already soothing him, but he forced himself to focus. Something was clearly wrong.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Levi asked, sitting up and motioning for her to come over to him.

(Y/N) hesitated but eventually walked over to him. She swallowed hard, her head hanging down.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?��� Levi asked as gently as he could, wincing a little at his rough voice.

When she still didn’t respond, Levi felt a little panicked, but managed to pull himself together.

“Thought for a thought?” Levi asked.

(Y/N) looked up and he smiled for her, trying to reassure her.

“What are you thinking about, (Y/N)?”

“I’m thinking I am being selfish.”

“How are you selfish?”

(Y/N) glared at him weakly. “Your turn first.”

“Oh yeah,” Levi said in a low voice that sent involuntary shivers down her spine. “I’m thinking I am worried about you. Now, why do you think you’re selfish?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and swallowed again before answering. Levi waited patiently. He was an anxious mess on the inside, wanting to know what she was going to say, but he knew that if he rushed her that he would risk chasing her away, and he definitely did not want that.

“I am selfish because I care about you and I want you to be safe. I am selfish because I know you need this rest to do well tomorrow but I can’t stay away from you. I am selfish because I want to be near you all the time and I am tired of the hiding. I want to be nice to you even when we aren’t alone. I want to joke around with you and laugh with you and smile at you and not have it be weird. I am selfish because I want all of that even though I know that doing so would humiliate you, that it would reveal your secret of having trouble with reading and writing, that it would just cause more problems for you.” (Y/N) closed her eyes and clenched her fists at her sides. “I’m sorry, Levi.”

“What the hell are you sorry for?” Levi asked incredulously. 

“I’m sorry for ruining what we had with my stupid feelings.”

“Do you know what I’m thinking, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) shook her head.

“I’m thinking you’re an idiot. You’re not selfish, never have been. All you have ever done for me is help me, even when nobody else cared. You were always the first, the first to care, the first to be my friend, the first to make me genuinely laugh, the first to make me feel like I am worth something. You are not selfish. I want those things too, (Y/N). You have no idea how many times I’ve just wanted to crack a joke in front of everyone and listen to your laughter fill the hall.”

(Y/N) peeked at him from behind her (h/c) hair, her (e/c) eyes shining with tears.

“Did you know that this whole time I have been unable to sleep because we didn’t spend time together this evening like we always do? This night has been fucking miserable without you. Your feelings about this, about everything, are not one sided.”

(Y/N) looked up then, moving her hair out of her face and wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, a watery smile running across her face.

“Do you know what I am thinking, Levi?” (Y/N) asked.

Levi shook his head.

“I am thinking that I want you to hold me, if you’re comfortable.”

Levi didn’t respond, he just held his arms out for her. (Y/N)’s smile widened and she slowly sank into his embrace, following him as he laid down, his arms holding her against him so they were facing away from each other, her back curled up against his chest.

“Do you know what I am thinking, (Y/N)?”

“No.”

“I like this. I am thinking that I like holding you and I already know I will love being held by you. How do you feel about it?”

“I’m thinking that I love being in your embrace too, Levi. I feel so warm and safe right now, like I can’t be harmed,” (Y/N) said.

Levi tightened his grip around her, burying his face into the back of her neck, reveling in the warm feeling of her pulse and the sweet smell of her shampoo.

“Thought for a thought?” Levi whispered softly after a moment of silence, his eyes closed so that his eyelashes lightly tickled the back of (Y/N)’s neck.

“Go ahead,” (Y/N) said.

“I’m thinking…, that I love you,” Levi said shakily, his heart clenching nervously at her gasp. “I’m thinking that I’ve felt this way for a while but I never understood it. I’m thinking that I have a hard time with words but that you needed to hear this, and for you, I’d do anything. I’m thinking that you take my b-breath away. I’m thinking that I wish I knew how to say more, what to say to make you feel good, but that I can’t other than to say that I l-love you with every shitty inch of my being.”

(Y/N) turned around in his embrace, his arms loosening around her just enough to allow her to move. Levi felt the anxiety attacking his heart, his nerves fraying at the seams as he scanned her tear-streaked face, searching for any sign that he had just fucked everything up.

Levi was surprised instead by a passionate kiss, her warm lips nearly attacking his in her desperation. Levi choked out a chuckle that devolved into a groan as he kissed back hungrily, his arms tightening around her once more. When they broke apart, they were both panting, (Y/N)’s eyes sparkling with love as she met his intense silver stare.

“I’m thinking that I love you too, Levi. I’m thinking that my only regret is that I didn’t tell you sooner, that I missed out on this feeling for longer than I would have. Other than that, I am thinking I am now the luckiest girl in the world. You are amazing, and special, and important in so many ways. Not just because of your title as Humanity’s Strongest, but also because of you as a person. I love you, Levi, so much.”

Levi pulled her back up for another kiss, this one as equally passionate as before, but more gentle, his lips moving over hers in a sweet yet firm caress, making her nerves tingle and her heart light on fire. Holding her close, Levi wrapped himself around (Y/N) completely, resting his chin on top of her head as she buried her face in his chest.

“Take care of yourself, brat. Please, don’t die tomorrow. I can’t lose you,” Levi mumbled.

“You will never lose me, Levi, that, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I didn’t.”

Levi looked down at her one more time, his eyes scanning the determination in her gaze before giving her a light peck on the forehead.

“Good, because I’m going to need someone to keep bossing me around and calling me an idiot.”

(Y/N) flicked his shoulder in tired retaliation and Levi smiled as he felt her own grin against his skin.

“Someone has to keep you in line.”

“Thank gods, it’s you,” Levi said, hiding his grin by pressing his face into her hair, her warm body and sweet scent allowing him to drift off to sleep, the two new lovers enjoying their calm moment of peace together before they would be sent off into hell in the morning.

[withoneheadlight]

ok i saw this cap of zoë kravitz in hf and she's got such a dreamy expression, she looks so deeply self-absorbed and infatuated by whatever she's imagining and those lines. and i couldn't stop picturing billy exactly like that for days so,

,

There’s a pretty unusual sound coming off the house when Max comes back home, that summer afternoon.

Full volume. Walls shaking. And she quietly walks to the source of the sound, holding back her breath right in front of Billy's room because, there's this second sound? Stranger and way more unsettling and Max's not sure-sure at first but then Steve Perry’s voice takes off and Billy’s follows it and then he's like, singing along and. Well. Max did know Billy liked Journey but not like, their 'stuff for pussies' but uhm, he does, apparently. Rasps his voice all the way through ‘Faithfully’. Kind of, sighs. Longingly? When it ends? But pfff, ok, big brothers are weird. Definitely weirder after being possessed and then kind of resurrected. Even if it's in a good-weird way but, whatever. So Max's just about to sneak to her room, dutifully rolling her eyes, steps muffled by the first chords of 'Edge of the blade' when―

Click. Click. Billy stops the tape. Click. Takes it out. Tap. Tap. Click. Puts on― Billy puts. On,

Heaven.

Bryan Adams’ Heaven.

And Max―

Being a younger sister is a meticulous kind of full-time, private detective job. You gotta learn how the person you’ve been watching so carefully for years and years works. Hafta develop some sort of―sense about your target. And Billy’s been—un-Billy-like? These past two months. Smiling more. Telling more jokes. Playing ‘You shook me all night long’ in a loop on their drive to school and back, not complaining at all but even joining when’s Max who can’t help but sing along so.

So. She retraces her steps. Knocks. Takes the distracted grunt she gets as a ‘Yeahyeah, c’mon in c’mon in’ and,

Creak. Creak. ‘―baby you’re all that I want’

“Billy?”

Billy’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. Radio close to his knees. Cassettes scattered everywhere. Piles and piles of breakwater surrounding Billy’s old, rusty beacon of sound. He’s reading through the song-list of one of the tapes, a smoke locked on the corner of his mouth, bouncing up and down with every little, absent suck he takes, and he looks. He looks―

Self-absorbed and even. Relaxed. Happy. Like whatever he’s thinking about right now is actually carrying his thoughts away to fucking heaven.

“Ehh”

“Uh-hu?”

‘When you’re lying here in my arms!’

“Billy are you. What―” ‘I'm findin' it hard to believe. We're in heaven’ “What are you doing?”

But there’s this orbit around the sun and then there’s whatever one Billy's been spinning along with the last couple of months so he completely ignores her question. Shakes the tape on his left hand. Picks another one from the pile on his right. Asks her.

“Is Billy Ocean too much? ‘Cause I think it’s too much. But it kind of fits into what I'm trying to say so” he says, shrugs, looking up at Max and waiting for the answer of what she realizes was not really a question. Not at all. So she does her little sister job and just, nods “Right. That’s good. I think it’ll slide just nicely into Bruce Springsteen and―”

“Billy” Max insists, waiting for the charm of the third time to work. It doesn’t. Not really. But keeps Billy's eyes on her long enough to squeeze an “A mixtape?” And, uh. That’s what gets it on. The charm “Are you making a mixtape?”

“Uh?”

And it’s like Max just shook Billy out of a daydream. Ash plopping down from his cigarette as his lips try but can’t purse and Max― she’s good. She’s stellar at this detective thing. Recognizes an opening the moment she sees it, right there in front of her, frozen in the middle of shaking Billy Ocean and Bruce Springsteen in the air right before cocktailing them together. Shaken, not stirred, please. Max’s upgraded to James Bond-level just right now.

“You’re making a mixtape for someone”

“Oh-nonoMaxi―”

“But you didn’t have those tapes before. Not even in your secret stash”

“How do yo―?”

“Holy. ShIT. You’ve been listening to somebody else’s music” This is. Oh, God. This. Is. GOLD. Max gotta take a moment. Blink. Breathe. Process. Her hands move by themselves, palms spread toward Billy in a wait-a-minute kind of gesture except. Max’s gonna need way more than a minute for this “You’ve accepted a music recommendation”

“Maaaaax”

“Gosh, you’ve even listened to the tapes enough to. Make―”

“Max!”

“I just can’t believe it”

And Max was glad. Well. As glad as one can be. Bunch weeks ago. Her mom and Neil out for the day. Coming back home a little earlier than she usually does to hear those ugh. Those other noises. Happy screams. Again. After months and months of Billy being basically alone except for her and the party and Steve. And Max’s so glad, of course she is. But she’s also a little sister. And all this investigation work has a high, rightful purpose.

Make her big brother’s life a living. Hell.

“Oh my god, you must be so gone!” Max brings her hands to her mouth. Takes a deep, deep breath that’s more a poorly restrained giggle. Shoots her index at him “Is it Bon Jovi? What I’m seeing right there? Goddam, Billy are you in lo―”

Bam.

Bam. Bam!

The front door.

What a way to spoil the fun. Max doesn’t have time for this. She’s working.

“BILLY?” comes a voice from the other side “Billy are you in there?”

Steve.

Oh.

What a way to make the fun a hundred times better.

Bam.Bam.Bam!

She’s starting to move to get to the door, sinsonging “Well, I guess Steve’s gonna find out you’re so stupid in love you’re willingly listening to―” when she realizes Billy’s eyes have widened and he’s jerkingly trying to unfreeze, he’s mumbling something in around his already extinguished cigarette in the ways of “Can’t” and “Find out” and “Surprise” and “Fucking help me!” While literally trying to shove the huge mass of tapes under his bed, his tone like hurryhurryhurry!, like he would start gagging and throwing his lungs out at any given minute, so nervous he looks.

So Max doesn’t go for the door. Yet. She basks in the enjoyment.

“Oh, is it a secret romance or something?” She sighs happily, leaning against the doorframe instead. “‘Cause you look pretty worried”

Steve’s banging the door now, voice wavering a little as he asks-shouts “Billy? Billy answer me! Hey, bab―Are you ok?”

“Max, please” Billy begs. Begs. Crawling over to where a Madonna’s Like a virgin is laying with the tape looping slightly out “He really can’t find out”

“What? That you’re in lo-o-oh-oh-OH―”

Billy stops at the tone, right there on his knees. Spits his forgotten cig to the side. And in the instant it seems to take him to make up his mind they both can hear Steve shout “Ok. I know you’re in there!. I’m coming in now!!”

“Fuck! Yeah. I am. Ok?” he looks like he just realized he’s tripped. Blushes. “Making it, I mean”

BAM!

And Ohhhhhhh.

Zero-fucking-zero-fucking-seven.

“Steve,” Max gasps. Because. Hear it makes it like. Easier. To process “You. And Steve”

B A M!

“Yeah, Max, Yeah. And this is a fucking surprise and he’s gonna―”

‘I've been waitin' for so long. For somethin' to arrive. For love to come along’

Ok. Oh. Okok.

“Door!” Max hastens him.

“What?”

“You. Door. Run!” She commands, and Billy― sometimes Max can’t honestly understand how he's got the grades he's got, because Billy blinks, looks clueless “C’mon slow ass. Hurry! I’ll hide all this shit”

And Billy finally gets it. Nods. Slow. Then fast. Stumbles up. Literally runs, to get to the door.

Max still gets to hear his labored “Fuck, pretty boy. “That was really hardcore of you. That's how bad you wanted to see me?” And Steve's own breathless “Really?” Before pushing Billy's room door close with her back, and kneeling on the floor to check for stray, incriminating cassettes.

Pretty boy. Maybe Max isn't as clever as she thought she is. Or hasn’t been doing her job right, clearly.

It's when she’s making ‘It’s a kind of magic’ disappear into the rest of the pile that she lays eyes on it. The case. The J-card written almost all the way down to the B-side already. A mixture of songs Billy's heard so many times there are parts where his tapes screech, and others she'd bet her life he wouldn’t have deigned to listen to. Not ever. Definitely not because―no, for, somebody. Bowie and Cher and Cindy Lauper and Bob Seger right next to Metallica and Guns n' Roses and Meatloaf and― there. There. Almost hidden in the back of the spine. A note. A tiny, thin-lettered thing Max really, really shouldn't be reading but―

‘Thanks for driving me back.

Love. Billy’

But. That's what little sisters do too, she guesses. Intrude. Annoy. Snoop. Feel this sudden rush of relief. Of happiness. When Billy laughs softly, on the other side of the door. When Steve laughs back. Maybe a tear. Or two. But just maybe. She’s really good at this little sister thing, after all.

Hopes for stellar.

,

or: that post s3 where steve lets a camaro-less billy drive him around in his own car "really? again, hargrove?" almost every single day, for months, after he comes back, because "you’re gonna perpetually stick yourself to my ass at least let me do the one thing that frikin’ calms me down" which results in steve resigning himself to deejaying in the shotgun even if "jesus, what's that shit, harrington?" "my car, my rules, sweetheart" which results in billy developing a ‘songs steve harrington is in love with’ mental playlist, realizing he’s probably a little bit in love with the way he loves them and, possibly, a little much love with steve and then stealing steve's tapes one day and,

making a mixtape about it.

(the first of a whole lot, of love letters)

[nev3rfound]

just in time : s.r

returning the stones isn’t steve’s only mission whilst he’s gone; he has one final mission of his own - to find his long lost lover, you, before it’s too late (2.5k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

Panting heavily, you bend down, resting your hands on your thighs as you feel a burn course through them whilst Bucky laughs at you.

"Did you seriously run here?" Bucky asks, Steve now facing you too, surprised to see you.

Holding a finger up, you take one final deep breath before composing yourself. "Of course," You breathe out. "I didn't wanna miss the start of it, had to get here on time." You smile, practically beam to Steve who shyly smiles back.

"I mean you're fifteen minutes late, doll." Bucky comments, ignoring Steve's weak punch to his arm. "Sorry."

"You haven't missed a thing, Y/n." Steve assures you as he steps forward, holding his arm out as his jacket swarms his upper body.

Despite the mud coating the hem of your skirt that hides various bruises and a sheen of sweat lining your forehead, Steve still adores you completely, no matter how often you're late for things.

"I'd be honoured." You giggle, looping your arm with Steve's as the three of you make your way into the dance hall. 

Standing on the podium, Steve can feel his grip tightening on the case as Bruce, Sam and Bucky watch him closely.

"Ready Cap?" Bruce calls out as Steve's suit changes to white and red, contrasting the previous dark tones. "Alright, we'll meet you back here." He adds, and Steve nods.

It's the moment he's anticipated for too long, ever since he woke up from the ice.

Bucky knew from the moment Steve said goodbye to him. Steve was going to be gone longer than a few seconds, he'd be gone an entire lifetime.

"You bet." Steve responds as the helmet forms over his head as his heart hammers against his chest at the thought of returning to a time he never dreamed of reliving.

Looking to his oldest friend, a small smile forms across Steve's face as Bucky remains stoic, internally proud that his friend will finally live the life he deserves.

"Going quantum in three, two, one." Bruce states, clicking at the last few buttons before the beams surrounding Steve illuminate and he disappears.

"I'm coming, I promise!" You yell from your window as Steve nervously shuffles on the pavement below, trying his best to hide the flowers he purchased (stole, with Bucky's aid) at the store earlier that morning.

Running down your stairs, you wave to your Dad before exiting the house. "Hey," Steve smiles as you slowly descend down the steps as you exhale deeply, he knows he's about to have another one of your infamous stories.

"My Ma didn't change the clock after it went and died, so here I was thinking I had all the time in the world," You shake your head in disbelief as you stand in front of Steve, oblivious to the flowers being brought forward from behind his back. "and then I woke up to my Dad screaming that you were outside!" A laugh escapes your lips as you finally notice the yellow flowers in Steve's grip, concealing the nervous look across his face.

"Do you like them?" Steve hesitantly questions, feeling your fingers brush across his as you take the flowers from his hands.

Bringing them to your face, you sniff them happily. "Steve," You can't help but step closer and kiss his cheek, watching a blush cross where your lips had just been. "I love them, thank you."

"I, well," Steve stumbles over his words, always losing any sense whenever you're around him. This would be the point where Bucky would interfere or as he likes to put it, 'help out.' "A girl like you deserves pretty flowers." He manages to say, watching as your eyes soften.

"I'll be right back, don't go anywhere, okay?" You tell him with a quick wink before running back up the front steps to your house, the door remaining ajar.

From where Steve stands, he can hear you conversing with your parents.

"He got you flowers, huh, honey?" Your Dad asks, a level of disconcert in his tone.

"He did, and I love them." You snap back. "It doesn't matter, Dad, don't give me that look."

"Your Father means well, dear. Why did you have to fall for him instead of Barnes?" Your Mother chimes into the conversation and Steve's head falls lower into himself, his previous excitement diminishing.

He knows they're right, you would be much better off with Bucky than a guy like himself, someone who’ll never amount to much before dying at a young age. Hell, he can’t even fight for his country, what right does he have being with you?

“Because I love him, okay?” You almost yell at the pair of them, hating the way they talk about Steve, one of your friends whom you grew up alongside, who you’ve slowly but surely fell in love with. “And I don’t care that he’s not like Bucky, Bucky for a fact is an arrogant womaniser, not that either of you have noticed. Just let me enjoy this, please! You owe me that much at this point.” You huff as you place the flowers in a glass that you filled with water. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back by seven.”

Without another word being uttered, you walk out of your house to see Steve slightly stunned at the bottom of your steps.

“You heard all that, didn’t you?” You ask, pausing on the bottom step.

Nodding in response, you lift your hands to your eyes and collapse down onto your step.

“Hey,” Steve mutters, reaching out to take your hands in his cold ones, no matter how warm it can get in Brooklyn, he always remains cold, not that you mind in the slightest as his smile simply warms your heart.

Now revealing your glossy eyes to Steve, you watch carefully as his blue eyes move closer towards you.

“If it helps at all, Y/n,” Steve whispers as he rests one hand on your cheek. “I love you too.” 

“And returning in five, four,” Bruce announces as he flicks several switches, the beams illuminating once more.

Yet, Bucky steps away much to Sam’s surprise.

“-three, two one.”

Sam watches closely as the lights flicker, but nothing happens. The podium remains empty, and Bucky chuckles beneath his breath.

“It’s not working,” Bruce exclaims as he stares at the monitor.

“Why not? Bring him back.” Sam states, frustration rising in his tone as he glances over to Bucky who faces the lake, hands buried in his pockets. “What do you know, Barnes?”

“That he’s not coming back.” Bucky speaks up, keeping his eyes locked on the ripples of the lake, the echo of laughter playing in his mind of the good ol’ days.

“I don’t understand,” Sam starts, but Bucky turns to face him with a solemn smile.

“You will.”

Sitting in the bar with Steve, Bucky laughs as they discuss his sudden rise to stardom. “But you were smaller,” Bucky chuckles in disbelief as his once frail friend sits broadly beside him. “don’t get me wrong, you look good, pal.”

Steve sighs to himself before taking a sip as dames walk past, whispering about the infamous Captain America. “I hope she doesn’t hate me.” Steve mutters, his eyes locked on the half-empty glass in his grasp. “I don’t know what to say, or, or,”

Before Steve can finish his sentence, the doors to the bar burst open and silence falls. All of the soldiers' attention turns to the dame in the entranceway, her lips lined red as she slowly walks in.

The sound of heels clicking against the floor increases until Steve hears his name being muttered delicately.

"Steve?" Turning around, Steve looks you in the eyes as tears fall down your cheeks. “Is that really you?” You quietly ask, lifting your hand up and rest it on his chest, slowly raising it to his cheek.

Smiling softly, Steve lifts his hand up, resting it on top of yours. For the first time ever, it’s warm, and you breathe out a laugh. “It’s me, Y/n.” Steve tells you confidently.

“Bonnie said I missed your grand entrance, why is it I can never keep track of time?” You laugh lightly and witness Steve smile shyly. “Steve? Is something wrong?”

Swallowing the growing lump in his throat, Steve notices you step closer. “You, you’ll still have me?” The question escapes his lips as his eyes dart across your expression, watching as your brows furrow and your previous smile disappears.

“You thought I’d leave you, just because you, you’ve changed?” The hurt in your voice is evident as Bucky seethes beside you both, quickly motioning to everyone else to carry on with their conversations so yours is drowned out from their ears.

“No, I,” Steve pauses before rising to his feet, now towering over you. “follow me.” He takes your hand in his, enveloping it firmly as he guides you outside for some needed privacy.

Now outside, you can hear faint conversations from inside the bar, the talks of Captain America and all he has done for the country. Yet in front of you stands Steve Rogers, your Steve.

“Listen, Steve, I don’t care what you look like, if you’re now suddenly six feet tall and have more muscle than my Uncle Jerry,” You explain, not missing the faint laugh from Steve. “you’re still Steve Rogers from Brooklyn, the man I fell in love with, okay?”

“So, this doesn’t bother you?” His nerves remain forefront as he glances down at himself before seeing you quirk a brow.

“Not in the slightest,” You reassure him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “if anything, there’s more of you to love, Captain.” You giggle and Steve can’t ignore the butterflies in his stomach before kissing you softly, missing the way your lips melt into his.

“Wait, guys?” Bruce suddenly announces as the energy field on the podium vibrates, and Steve reappears empty-handed.

“There’s no way,” Bucky mutters to himself, remaining still whilst Sam rushes forward, laughing happily.

“I knew you’d come back, you son of a bitch.” Sam jokes as Steve steps down from the podium, removing the white suit and reveals himself dressed in a black suit. “So, how was it?”

Steve remains quiet, his eyes fixating on the ground as his thoughts remain tied to the past.

“Let’s give him some space, Sam.” Bucky interrupts, looking over to Bruce who nods in response.

“Come on.” Bruce mutters, walking alongside Sam as they head back to the cabin, leaving Bucky alone to talk to his oldest friend who he anticipated being a lot older.

Stepping forward, Bucky tries not to stare at Steve whose cheeks remain red, marked with previous tears.

“What happened, Steve?” Bucky asks. “I thought, I thought you’d be with her, I-”

“She moved on, Buck.” Steve cuts Bucky off coldly. “Y/n carried on living without me, without us around she had no choice but to carry on.”

Bucky doesn’t miss the gentle sniff escaping Steve as he averts his gaze, turning his head to the left remaining out of sight as fresh tears fall.

“Was she happy?” Bucky can see Steve’s shoulders tense at the question, almost feel the heartache Steve is feeling as he shifts on his feet, now fully facing Bucky.

“Yeah,” Steve mutters, patting Bucky on the shoulder. “she really was.”

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” Bucky states sadly.

“Me too, pal.” Steve comments, but Bucky can tell there’s something he’s not admitting, his eyes say more than his words could. “Me too.”

Walking alongside one another, the old friends walk back toward the cabin, knowing now they can only carry on, there’s no going back.

Steve was running, he’d been running for far too long in a world he didn’t understand. All he craved was a return to his own time, a world he felt comfortable and understood in. A world where you lived and breathed.

His feet guide him directly to the cobbled street he walked numerous times, either by your side holding hands or bantering with Bucky. Nothing had changed, it remained just as he remembered. There weren’t any alien threats, no destruction, the war was over.

Slowly, Steve walks up the steps to your house. He forms a fist as he knocks, having discarded the case the stones were once in mere hours before and returned Thor’s hammer to its rightful place in Asgard.

He can feel his breathing hitch in his throat as silence falls upon him before knocking on the door. Looking over his shoulder, Steve decides it’s best to step down in case you open your window like old times.

Yet, a few minutes pass by and there’s no response. Steve knocks once more, then twice and thrice more times.

“They aren’t there, sweetie!” Someone calls out, and Steve glances over his shoulder to see a neighbour perching from their door, a child on her hip.

“Do you know when they’ll be back?” Steve asks, noticing the woman's smile drop immediately like his heart.

“They don’t live there anymore I’m ‘fraid.” The woman states, but Steve isn’t listening as he crosses the road, now standing in front of her door. “The couple couldn’t bear to stay there, up’t and left about two months ago now.” She explains, but Steve cannot fathom it.

Your family adored that house, though it was small, it was perfect for you and your parents. The three of you sung and danced from room to room, Steve and Bucky often in tow.

“How come they moved away?” Steve forces the question from his thoughts to his mouth, afraid to hear the answer.

The child on the woman's hip begins to cry loudly, and she quickly hushes it. “I’ll be one moment,” She mutters, moving away from the door and returns a few minutes later, arms folded across her chest. “They erm, they lost their daughter, precious thing she was.”

Steve falters backwards, he watches as the woman's lips continue to move, but silence consumes him.

“-she kept coughing up blood after all those nights sat in the cold waiting for her soldier to come home. Apparently, she had some underlying condition, incurable. Tragic really.” The woman sighs sadly, now glancing up to see Steve silently distraught. “I’m sorry, hon, did you know her?” She asks, but Steve steps away and turns around, forcing his feet as he runs down the street, ignoring her shouts.

He had no idea where he was going, but all he could feel were tears streaming down his cheeks, the cool breeze burning against them as he forcefully wiped them away. 

For once, Steve was the one who was too late, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“You sure you���re okay, pal?” Bucky reiterates his previous question, seeing Steve longingly watch as Morgan plays with Pepper, giggling away.

“Yeah,” Steve mutters. “I’ll be fine, Buck.” He lies, knowing if he were to tell the truth, he’d simply fall apart.

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up- sorry!)

@biss-stuff @psychicforest  @lourightm @mywinterwolf   @justsomedreaming​ @stanlux17 @smokeandnailz @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx @courtneychicken @marvelsangels @supraveng @tommy-lee-81 @smilexcaptainx @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @sarge-barnes-sir @pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated–fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs @eldahae @handmesomecoffee @hi-my-name-is-riley @dev1lbella @thanossexual @alissaginger @sambucky8 @notbrooklynsblog @nikkixostan@cosmiccaptian @adoreyou976 @sarcasticallywitty15 @multi-fandom-princess07 @16boyfriends-and-me @courtneychicken @mackevanstan80 @torchwoodoctor @pleasantlysecretdream@yougottalovefandoms @lostaurorax @ogoc-19