#i cooked all my meals at home yesterday so there shouldn’t have been any cross contamination

[ackerfics]

the parent trap — levi ackerman (iv)

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

— warnings: angst??? and feels, i think

— summary: after assuming that everything was starting to shift further away from the plan, the people in the ackerman estate found out the identity of the boy mirroring the twin they know so well.

— word count: 8.6k (i know, i had to do it bc it's been so long)

— author's notes: finally, after weeks of not touching this series, i finally updated it. this part is centered around the reveal in levi's side of things. to those who watched the movie, you know things will go down from here. happy reading everyone !!

part one | part two | part three | masterlist

The news that was dropped on Altair last night stole away every ounce of sleep from him.

At first, he felt like everything collapsed on his shoulders. His mum is getting married? In what universe? There wasn’t even a decent man in a five-meter radius around his mother, well, except for her employees at the bridal shop. Nonetheless, all of the men trying to court her were turned down in an instant but why was she getting married to an idiot when he was away from home? The number of times he ran his hand through his hair and wishing everything was perfect can’t be counted on his fingers. First, it was that Cindy woman and now, an unknown man wooing you with serenades and God knows what in London has added himself in the list of pesky outliers. There shouldn’t be outliers in the first place. Throughout the night, Altair made his mind busy by making adjustments in their plan, eyes fixed on the ceiling in concentration.

The next thing he knew, daybreak dripped on his eyelids, peeking through the spaces between his curtains. Altair sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes free of sleep crust before turning to his alarm clock on the nightstand. A red 9:34 glared at him, telling him he overslept. The boy huffed and plopped himself back on the plush mattress, his pillows swallowing him whole as he tried to give himself more hours of sleep. His five-minute doze was interrupted with a knock on his door. It took everything in him not to shout ‘five more minutes' so he decided to might as well wake himself up by walking to the door and answering the person on the other side.

Petra’s face beamed at him and Altair had to narrow his eyes because Petra’s smile was too bright for his own good. It was like looking too long at the sunrise.

“Good morning, Al!” the redhead greeted him.

“Morning, Petra,” Altair replied, rubbing his eyes again. “I’m sorry I overslept.”

Petra waved him off. “It’s fine. I expected it yesterday since you just came home from camp. You must be so tired. Why don’t you go take a bath and change and come downstairs for some breakfast? I’m sure this will wake you up — I cooked your favorites.” The boy nodded at her suggestion. She tried teasing him by calling his name again, Altair turning around to acknowledge his nanny with a raised eyebrow. “You know, I’d probably oversleep, too, if I were up in the middle of the night making mysterious phone calls from my bathroom. It’s pretty quiet in here at midnight so I think that pretty much exposed you.”

Altair froze at Petra’s inquiring tone, blinking his speechlessness. In an instant, he doesn’t feel sleepy anymore. He scratched his undercut. “Uhm, it was a friend from camp. He just wanted to talk to me, that’s all.”

The redhead hummed as she crossed her arms. “Ooh-kay. Well, your breakfast will be waiting on the kitchen counter!” She shouted while making her way downstairs.

“Okay!” Altair yelled back.

He opened his closet and took out a blue flannel, a white undershirt, and a pair of jeans. Without wasting any more time, Altair got himself ready by taking a bath just as Petra suggested and made himself presentable once he reached the kitchen. His hair was still wet, a towel wrapped around his shoulders when he inhaled the savory smell of breakfast on the first floor. As Altair sat on the high counter stool, Petra turned around from cutting up fruits and placed too many plates in front of the boy with a smile. He couldn’t control the twitch in his eyebrows as he stared at his breakfast. Is his twin really eating this much food every morning? He realized he might be coming off as rude since he was only staring at the number of bacon slices on his plate so Altair took a bite of bacon and let the sound of knives against the cutting board flit through his ears.

“Petra?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have a cup of rose tea?”

Petra stopped cutting the mangos and stared at Altair, who was immersed in doing small bites of his breakfast. The redhead stared for a moment and assessed the way Altair picked up his fork and knife — it was the same way a certain someone did back in college when Levi’s friend group and lover ate meals together. Now that Petra remembered it; when you gave birth to the twins, she mentioned how one of them inherited the shape of your eyes. It could be a trick of the light but Altair’s eyes were softer in the edges instead of the sharpness Levi adorned, the boy’s eyelashes slightly fuller than usual.

“Petra?”

The said woman jumped at the mention of her name, with Altair’s face scrunched up in worry at her lack of response. She cleared her throat while transferring the mangos in a small bowl, sliding it towards Altair. “Yeah?”

The silver-eyed boy rose an eyebrow. “Are you alright? You look like you were in a trance there.”

“I’m fine.” Petra washed her hands before wiping them dry with a clean towel. Her gaze went from the boy’s expectant stare to his unfinished breakfast. This was weird. Altair usually never leaves any leftovers on his plate, it was what Levi taught him since he could eat on his own. Pushing this matter at the back of her mind, she smiled. “You’re not going to finish that, Al?”

Altair looked down on his half-eaten scrambled eggs, bacon slices, and still full pasta salad. He only had a couple of bites from the last dish and wished he could eat more but the two slices of bacon and scrambled eggs made him full in an instant. His stomach couldn’t handle too much in an early hour. He needed the tea to wash all this down. “No, I’m not, I think I’m full,” he answered, patting his stomach with a grin. He hoped Petra wouldn’t notice that his appetite wasn’t like his twin. That idiot (his twin, never Petra) appeared small like him but the buffoon has a vacuum inside his torso, always hungry at the wee hours of the day. If this was roast beef, this was a different story. “Must be because I’m tired from the trip. I don’t feel like eating and moving around too much.”

Petra nodded in understanding, preparing the rose tea the boy requested. She was waiting for the water to boil as she glanced at Levi’s pride and joy. “So why rose tea?”

“Pardon?”

Pardon? With a suppressed chuckle, Petra turned around with an incredulous expression on her face. “Camp made you prim and proper, huh? So why rose tea, champ?”

“Because I thought it would be nice to try the flower teas instead of the fruit-flavored ones this time. I know Dad has been experimenting with flowers for the next blends.”

Petra hummed, letting the tea steep for a few minutes. The scent of roses immediately wafted across the kitchen, making the two sigh in contentment. Petra wasn’t one for tea but smelling the pink drink made her want to try one. She presented the cup of rose tea to the black-haired boy, who was leaning forward to finally have his drink, his silver eyes sparkling at the small petals floating on top of his tea. Petra knew she was watching Altair closely but all her doubts flew out the window when she witnessed the boy hold the teacup the same way Levi does. Maybe she was looking into this too much. She shook her head and took away the leftovers, placing them in containers.

She missed the way Altair blew out a sigh of relief, a small half-smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

Altair stood up from his seat, patting his lap from imaginary dust and placing the towel from his shoulders to the back of the counter stool. He took a long sip of his tea before grinning widely at his nanny. “Thank you so much for breakfast, Petra!”

“No problem, kiddo. Oh, and your Dad wants to talk to you about something. He’s in his office.”

“Okay!”

The black-haired boy walked past the archway leading to the living room, where the glass double doors to the patio were located. Snuggling on the floor and chewing on his toy was Levi’s golden retriever, Captain. Altair flinched when he saw the dog shift their head in his direction. A series of barks came out of the pet, making the boy hurry for the handles of the double doors. His heart was pounding when he couldn’t get the doors to open, pulling on them as Captain was now standing up to give him another round of barks. It caught the attention of Petra and the woman instantly shot to the living room but not before shouting something that made Altair’s ears turn red of embarrassment.

“Push, Al.” Petra was now wrapping her arms around the dog, eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

Altair stopped for a moment, twisting the handles of the double doors and pushing them just as Petra said. He turned around with a sheepish smile, chuckling nervously because this mistake might have lost him the plan. “Must have slipped my mind.” He had never gotten out of a house that quickly in his entire life.

Only when he stepped foot on the patio that he could breathe normally. Altair kicked a pebble on the pathway, hands snug inside his pockets, as he thought about what his father will tell him. He followed the pathway until he was met with a slope, a building looking the main estate was sitting on top of the small hill overlooking the plantation. With a bundle of nerves swirling in his stomach, Altair took a deep breath and trekked the hill. The higher he got, hectares of a variety of tea trees greeted his vision, mimicking the sea with its vastness. It was the first time he saw something so wide and before he knew it, questions started entering his mind.

If the Ackerman family held so much money, why did his grandparents make his mum go back to London? Why did they take away the only person who made her feel loved in every sort of way possible? She could’ve been happy here. Everything is so soothing and secure.

The sound of people talking snapped him back to reality. Altair shook his head and continued his small walk towards the building. It looked like there was more activity in here than he imagined. People were sorting out the tea leaves they harvested and others were manning a machine meant for grounding the leaves. It was so busy that he didn’t realize he stopped in front of the huge window showing all of the employees trying to keep Levi’s business booming.

A person rounding the building noticed his gawking and smiled a little. They clutched the flowers they picked for the new blends Levi was experimenting on and went to the black-haired boy. “Al, welcome home. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday to welcome you back.”

The silver-eyed boy turned around to the young woman sharing his features — the same jet-black hair, pale complexion, and shade of silver for the eyes (though hers were more on the bluish side of the spectrum). He tried recalling the family members his brother told him to remember. There was a woman with the same appearance in one of the pictures. She was hugging the Altair she knows, their smiles shining through the piece of shiny paper. She was the older cousin his twin was telling so many stories about since she was the only one closer to his age around the household. The Altair standing in front of her right now smiled, muttering her name, “Mikasa.”

Mikasa returned the smile with her own, sitting on her heels to meet the boy’s eyes. “How was camp?”

“My opponent in a fencing competition pushed me in the washing area of our pavilion.”

Mikasa winced, ruffling the boy’s hair gently. “Why did they do that?”

Altair shrugged, feeling proud of himself for doing that to his twin despite being guilty to this day. “Guess he was better than me at fencing. He has a teacher specifically for that sport back in their hometown.”

“Oh, wow. If you want someone to practice fencing with, I’ll gladly help you.” The young woman tilted her head with a smile. “That is if you want to go back to that camp next summer. I’ll even learn the rules for you.”

The older of the two had so many records in her portfolio. Altair recalled that his brother was gushing about how Mikasa was a part of the track and field team the entirety of her stay in college. She was also a part of a volleyball club when she was in high school. This young woman has everything in her belt and it would be so good if Altair practiced fencing with her. However, he also realized that Mikasa probably had her hands full with academic and familial responsibilities. “But you have your final year in college, though, and you’re so busy in the plantation.”

Mikasa once again tousled Altair’s hair, chuckling under her breath. “Anything for my baby cousin so don’t worry about it.” She looked down at the pile of flowers in her arms. She handed a single red lily flower to Altair. “Here, to brighten up your day.” Mikasa stood up and waved at Altair. “I’m testing these flowers out with some berries, kiddo. I’ll be in the kitchen by the sorting room with Annie. If we can get the right combination, we’ll let you try some. Your dad is in his office waiting for you.” With that, Mikasa turned around but not before ruffling Altair’s hair again.

Altair nodded at nobody in particular and entered the building with a slight skip in his steps. The office was situated on the second floor of the manor-like establishment. The color palette of red and olive green was still observed in the interior but the large, open balcony let in enough light to illuminate the second floor. There was a railing surrounding the middle space of the entire floor, perfect for looking down and observing the bustling life inside the house. Altair’s destination, however, was the door to the left side of the second floor down a painting-covered hallway. He tentatively knocked on the door with his father’s name pinned on it. Altair faintly heard someone call inside the room and opened the door to peek his head in.

Levi was behind his desk, phone close to his ear. “Yes, Erwin. I thought you will be visiting because of Altair today. I see. No problem. You can visit the plantation anytime.” He glanced at the opened door, seeing Altair meekly staring at him. He smiled a little before telling Erwin, “Al’s here. Yeah. The stocks are fine and the new blends are coming out great. Sure, I’ll send you some. Bye.” The silver-eyed man sighed as he placed his phone on the desk. “You can come in, Al. Usually, you just barge in here and wait for me on the couch.” Levi hummed, eyes softening at the sight of his son grinning in front of him.

Altair chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I thought it was an important call.”

“It was just Eyebrows.”

“Whatever you say, Dad.”

The boy sat on the couch, eyes inconspicuously roaming around the office. He heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and Altair looked up to find his dad preparing a cup of tea in the kitchenette installed in the room. He looked away from Levi and shifted his attention to the framed photographs on the desk. Everything wasn’t facing him but there was one frame positioned to face the person behind the desk. Altair craned his neck to get a glimpse of the picture, his eyes going back and forth between the frame and his dad, who was waiting for the tea to steep. With his body draping over the couch and neck stretching as far as he could (the position was starting to hurt), Altair saw that it was a picture of you, his mum. The silver-eyed boy gasped because it was you in a wedding dress.

“Blimey.”

“Al?”

Altair dropped the position with a huff. He straightened himself to face a confused Levi, a tray of two teacups filled with raspberry tea held by his hands. “Thought I could just, you know,” he nervously chuckled, “get a good stretch after oversleeping. So what’s up, Dad?”

Levi hummed, placing the tray on the low table. He sat beside Altair, body facing the little boy as he surveyed the innocent smile plastered on his son as he sipped on his cup of tea, the two of them mirroring how they held their cups. Maybe it was because Al went away for summer camp in the last eight weeks or maybe he was just missing you and your presence in his life, but Levi felt his heart clench at how fast his little boy was growing. The summer camp must be a blessing in disguise because his boy came home with newfound manners and the whole time he was away, he thought hard enough to make a decision he won’t come to regret. Eight weeks was a long time, things are bound to change. So Levi cleared his throat and readied himself in spilling his carefully thought-out plans to his son.

“There’s something really important I want to talk to you about, Al,” Levi started, putting this teacup back on the low table.

“That’s funny because there’s something really important that I want to talk to you about.”

“Yeah? Well, you go first, kiddo.”

Altair shook his head rapidly, gulping down his tea first. “No, you first, Dad.”

“Hmm.” The black-haired man carefully formulated the words in his mind. The first order of business was to cut off any people who would dare hurt his son. Yesterday was just the catalyst in his ongoing debate with Petra all summer to get rid of the publicist leeching off of him. From the look on Altair’s face while he was wading in the pool, Levi figured that Cynthia said something to him that might have shaken his mind. He leveled his gaze with Altair’s and told him, “Okay, I want to talk to you about Cynthia, the hired publicist for the teahouse and plantation.”

The boy turned his body so that he was seeing his father eye to eye. “And I wanted to talk to you about Mom.” Altair furrowed his eyebrows in distaste. “Oh, so Cynthia’s her name. What about Cynthia?”

Levi blinked in surprise. He knew Altair was a smart kid but he didn’t expect him to pick up on things so fast. There was no one in the estate that he shared his current sentiments. Petra was known to be a person not careful enough to keep a secret hidden from Altair and Erwin will most likely tease Levi throughout the day if he revealed his plans. Not to mention that Mikasa will probably indulge his kid in spilling every embarrassing thing about him so that makes his niece out of the list of people worthy enough to be told a secret.

With a calm voice, he regarded his little him with a flat expression. “What about your mom?”

Altair groaned in exasperation. “Dad, I’m almost twelve. I’m at a point in my life to ask about the whereabouts of my mom. You can’t expect me to believe the stork story all my life!”

A slow inhale and a look at the ceiling was all Levi needed to compose himself. “You know what, that is a story for later. But first, we’re going to talk about the publicist. Did she say anything to you? Anything that might have hurt you in any way yesterday?”

One pair of gray eyes looked away from the other to examine the invisible dust gathering on top of the coffee table. Altair wanted to tell Levi that Cynthia was trying to exploit him, trying to wound him in her trap and to make him fall in love with her. But the way that his father was insisting on the topic of Cynthia instead of you didn’t sit right with him at all. To Altair, it looked like Levi was desperate to clean the woman’s name and to make him build a relationship with her when the time comes that she’ll be carrying the Ackerman name. He mentally apologized to his other half across the ocean for not having the strength to continue the plan. Because as he glanced at Levi, the man’s concern apparent on the glint of his eyes, Altair wanted his father to be happy — to love someone without any pain that spanned for more than a decade.

“No, she didn’t say anything to me. She just told me how happy she is to be on the plantation.”

As much as he was scared to be a father when his boys were born, Levi always knew if his son was lying after years of raising Altair alone (with the help of Petra but the nanny will always give him the credit). Right now, however, he couldn’t tell if Al was lying or not. “Al, are you telling me the truth? If not—“

The door burst open, bringing with it an overly dramatic woman. “Levi? Are you here, sweetie?”

Eld followed after Cynthia, his face betraying his aggravation at the woman. “Don’t just enter Levi’s office without permission, Ma’am!”

Cynthia scoffed, insulted at the term. “'Ma’am’?! I’m not that old, employee.”

The blonde man bristled. He tried puffing his chest to remind the publicist that he has more authority than just a last-minute accommodation in the staff, but he stopped when he saw Levi starting to stand up from the couch. He had never seen his boss express anger in his years of being Levi’s secretary, however, the apparent look on the onyx-haired man will probably drive Cynthia more than six feet under the surface. Eld dismissed Cynthia with a roll of his eyes, focusing on the annoyed man walking towards them with terrifying footsteps. “Levi, she just went inside the building. Believe me, we were trying to prevent her from getting her head cut off by you but she wouldn’t listen!” The blonde glared at the woman who was gasping dramatically, manicured hand pressed on her chest. “Levi, you have to believe me. Mikasa even had to—“

“I understand, Eld.” Levi’s voice was uncharacteristically icy. Sure, he was known for being blunt and dismissive at times but that was the man's nature in forming social relationships. The employees were used to him being that way. Right now, though, his glare could have frozen Cynthia in place. “What is this, Miss Maryland? I thought I told you to leave a message to my secretary if you want to have an appointment with me. But I remember telling you that I’m not free this day.”

Cynthia pouted. “But I also told you that I wanted to have lunch with you! Is your job more important than me? Or are you just using that as an excuse to not make time for me?”

Eld looked scandalized at the woman’s reaction while Altair was wincing at the sound of Cynthia’s whine.

Levi was praying for his ears as well, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself down. He looked at Altair at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t recall you being on my priority list, Miss Maryland, and I have plans with Al today anyway. Horseback riding.”

“You’re lying!” The woman turned to Altair. “Is this true, Al, darling?”

The boy quickly took note of the hint of desperation from his father’s eyes so he smiled. “Yeah, I’ll be riding Nox since I miss my horse while I was at camp.”

“You heard my kid,” Levi drawled. “Now get out. You’re invading my privacy — sounds fitting for your job.”

Cynthia’s face scrunched in disgust, turning around abruptly, her hair hitting Eld in the face. The blonde man sputtered before incredulously staring at the retreating publicist. There wouldn’t be any need for Mikasa to restrain her if needed since she knew the way out. Eld turned back to Levi and Altair, his face showing how guilty he was. “Levi, I’m really sorry. If I’d known she’ll barge in here like this.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Eld.”

“Alright.” Eld trailed off, shifting his attention from Levi to Altair. He waved at Levi’s son before pointing at the door behind. “Have a great afternoon, you two.”

Levi nodded at his friend, sitting on the couch with a sigh when the door closed. He had to get rid of that publicist, she was starting to become a headache. Levi then felt a small weight on his shoulder. Turning his head to the side, a head of onyx hair greeted his vision. With a small smile, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around Altair, letting him snuggle into his side some more. The two of them cherished the silence as if the room was their haven, away from pesky publicists and the bustling activity a floor below.

Speeding through the plantation felt liberating for Altair. He wanted to raise his arms in the air as they zoomed by the small tea trees but that would mean having Levi being suspicious of him. At first, Altair thought that the predicament with Captain would be the same with Nox but the black beauty of a horse nuzzled his palm affectionately as if he was the real owner. Of course, it couldn’t happen without the help of the sugar cubes laid out on his palm. Now, he was laughing as he raced with his dad, their destination was the hill on the other side of the plantation. It looked like Levi was winning but Altair tried to spur Nox faster. A blur of black reached their landmark, a tree with a swing on it, and Altair whooped at the top of his lungs.

“I won!”

“You always win,” Levi told him, a loving stare directed at his son.

Altair turned his horse to meet Levi’s stare. “I do?”

A confused frown painted the silver-eyed man’s lips.

At that, Altair brightened immediately, realizing his mistake. “I do! Just slipped my mind again. I can’t seem to stop forgetting things. That’s so weird.”

Levi guided his horse to walk towards Altair’s. “Yeah, so weird,” he murmured until he was beside his son. They stared at the plantation with varying expressions. The boy looked so mesmerized at how the sun touched every single tree while Levi blankly surveyed the rows of what brought him to this moment. It was once upon a time when he brought you here during spring break in junior year at college, telling you his dreams of starting a tea plantation. You looked radiant against the sunset, the rays creating a halo that Levi wanted to preserve forever. Altair’s laugh when he won has the same smile as yours when you manage to outrun him in a race. Levi couldn’t help but think of a life with you and the twins here in the plantation and estate, the two boys growing up with each other and with both parents unlike now. The four of you wouldn’t experience the pain brought by the separation. But reality struck him hard when Altair breathed out an expelling sigh, eyes soft around the corners like yours.

“So, Al, do you think we’re lonely?”

The said boy looked at his dad, who was wistfully looking at the plantation like it was hurting him. “I don’t think so.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Altair’s grip on the reins tightened. “Why are you asking this, Dad?”

Levi took a deep breath. “Believe it or not, Al, but I feel lonely every night. The moon and the stars must be tired of my internal monologues to them, all wishing to have a normal night with our complete family. But with Maryland here, there seems to be someone at the back of my head telling me to make a move. You know what, Al, I want—“

“Race you back to the ranch, Dad!”

“What—wait, Al! Hey, slow down, kiddo!”

Tears were starting to blur Altair’s vision as he rode around the plantation. No, the plan wasn’t going to work. His twin brother was a liar when he said he had an amazing and genius plan. Everything was starting to burn in flames and Altair had no choice but to watch it fester until only ashes remain. When he reached the stables, he tied the reins to the post with hurried yet precise knots. And Altair ran and ran. Up the slope leading to the manor, past the building where the workers were happily interacting with another until he felt himself bumping into someone. He brushed off a concerned Mikasa shouting at him to slow down. Minutes later, Levi passed by the fretting young woman, the latter asking if Altair was alright. But the onyx-haired boy finally reached the safe confines of their manor, passing by the opened double doors. He started pacing around the living room.

Altair buried his hands in his hair, his accent coming out as he rambled. “This isn’t going the way he expected it to. Bonkers, this is a mess! I’m just a kid and I couldn’t handle everything at once. Now, Mum’s getting married to a person I don’t know and Dad is tying the knot with Cindy—Cassandra—whatever!” He leaned on the back of an armchair, body slumping on the plush cushion. “And I don’t even know Dad as much as he does. How am I supposed to fix this?”

“What are you trying to fix?” Petra suddenly appeared in the armchair. (She was there all along but she figured that by keeping quiet, she will learn more about why Altair acted strangely since he came home.) The redhead stood up, arms crossed on her chest. “Do you want to share something with the class, Al?”

Altair jumped back, placing a hand on top of his pounding heart. “You gave me a fright, Petra.”

Petra leaned back with an expression of disbelief. “What? Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk to me about? If you’re scared of your dad finding out your secrets right now, you can always tell me.” Altair remained silent as he stared wide-eyed at the nanny and housekeeper. “Care to explain to me why Captain doesn’t like you anymore when he has been with you since you were a toddler? Or how you can’t open the doors properly? Even your appetite change this morning. I have so many questions, Al, and it all stemmed from when you came home. Do you know something we don’t?”

The boy shrugged. That didn’t seem to alleviate the suspiciousness he carried. “I just changed over the summer, that’s all.”

Petra slowly took a step forward and tilted her head down to meet Altair’s eyes. “I’m starting to think you were raised …” She shook her head to dispel the thought and turned around to make herself busy in the kitchen. “That’s impossible. Never mind. I must be needing sleep from all these theories.”

“I am raised by who, Petra?”

She waved her hand to dismiss the question. “Forget it, Al. I’m not supposed to talk to you about this anyway.”

“Like I’m raised by [Name] [Last Name]? Like I’m the other half of one pair of twins?”

The redhead tensed at the question, her smile frozen in place. She managed to blink herself outside of her stupor, slowly regarding the onyx-haired boy, who was gradually turning into an image of you. Those eyes, though sharing Levi’s stormy irises, were reminiscent of your kind ones — always appearing as soft as they can be despite the intensity of a present glare. Petra was at a loss for words and she had to clear her throat a couple of times to find her voice. “How do you know her full name? How do you know that you have a twin, Al? How do you know about—?”

“About Caelum?” The boy pursed his lips, forcing himself to smile. He dropped the act because there was no use continuing their charade any further. Besides, this is Petra, the most loyal person from what he could observe during a full day in the Ackerman estate. She reminded him of Oluo, the way they stuck to each parent almost every day. His British accent came out when he said the next words, “That’s because I am Caelum.”

If this wasn’t a serious situation, Caelum would’ve laughed at Petra’s reaction.

“Altair?!”

Levi looked around when he stepped foot on the patio. However, he was surprised at the peculiar scenario welcoming him in the living room — it was as if Petra was looking at his son for the first time in years. The redhead had both hands covering her mouth, tears prickling her eyes, and an expression showing disbelief. He rose an eyebrow in incredulity because nobody paid him any attention. With measured footsteps, Levi placed a hand on his son’s shoulders, making the boy jump a few inches in the air.

“Hey, buddy,” his voice was so soft since his boy looked shaken up just as much as Petra, “why did you take off on me like that? I told you I wanted to talk to you about something.” His son looked up at him with wide eyes so Levi expectantly glanced at Petra. The woman was still silent with that constipated look on her face. “Petra, do you need to take a shit? Why are you looking at Al like that?”

Caelum was breathing heavily, eyes pleading with Petra to let him tell Levi the truth.

With a subtle nod, Petra wiped her eyes and turned to Levi, who had his face scrunched in perplexity. “Like what? I’m not looking at him in a special way.” She shrugged but with one look at the bright-eyed boy beside her friend, her voice started to falter. “I’m looking at him like I’ve looked at him for eleven years. Since the day he came home from the hospital, all wrapped up and squirming for contact with his parents.” Petra looked like she could cry any minute. (Levi was staring at her like she had grown a second head. He was ready to give her a day-off.) “Seven pounds, five ounces, 21 inches long. This is how I look at him.”

Caelum felt himself smile as Petra gestured at him.

“Can I hug him?”

Levi blinked and stayed silent for a second. He lifted his hand from his son’s shoulder and stepped back since Petra wrapped the boy in a tight hug. He felt the back of an armchair behind him, leaning against it with a sigh. “Everybody’s so weird.”

As the woman continued hugging Caelum, she exclaimed, “Oh, he’s so beautiful and he’s grown so much.” The boy nuzzled his head on the crook of his nanny’s neck, a large smile painted on his face.

For once in his life, Levi wanted to sleep the day off. Maybe everything might go back to normal.

Petra pulled away from the hug, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. She pointed at Caelum while trying to control her voice from shaking. “I’m going to make you something special to eat. What do you feel like eating? Anything? You know what?” She waved her hand once she reached the entrance of the kitchen. “I’ll just whip up something from everything we’ve got, okay?” With a last nod and an apologetic smile directed at Levi, Petra went to the kitchen whilst wiping her tears, leaving behind the two Ackermans’.

Now that heartfelt moment ended, Levi knew he had to tell his son what’s weighing on his mind for the past years. All it took were eight weeks for him to steel himself in making a choice he won’t come to regret. If only he had done this when you gave him your back, a baby looking like him snug in your arms and reaching out to a father he won’t come to have. If only he had chased you to London, fighting for your love in front of your parents, promising a life filled with enough luxury for your newfound family. If only he had the strength back then, none of this would’ve happened. So Levi gently directed his son to the couches, sitting in front of the boy on the low table. Their gazes matched each other and it looked like Levi was staring at his younger self.

“We have to talk.” The onyx-haired man’s voice was so soft, matching his visage that was contorted in slight wariness and expectation.

Caelum nodded. “Okay. Shoot, Dad.”

Levi nodded back. “I’ve been thinking about this since you were a toddler and this summer was the only time I could focus on debating with myself on it.” He took a deep breath, his heart thundering in his chest, and his cheeks burning. “Al, I want to get back together with your mom.”

The whole world stopped. Caelum stopped breathing for a few seconds. There was a lack of emotions inside him at first, him just staring like an idiot at Levi. Suddenly, he felt like jumping but that would look suspicious so Caelum abruptly stood up in front of his dad, tingles traveling in every fiber of his body.

“Al?” Levi asked, confused at the constipated look on his little boy.

Bright gray eyes stared back at Levi, Caelum’s grin erasing every doubt in his father’s body. “This is perfect, Dad!”

“It is?” The onyx-haired man trailed off before perking up a little, a small grin tugging his mouth upwards. “Yeah, it is. I decided that I will do everything right this time and have our family back again.” He looked down wistfully on the floor, fingers wringing with each other. He murmured under his breath, “I wonder how Caelum’s doing right now. Will he like me? I’m not exactly awarded with the best father of the year title.”

On the other hand, Caelum heard it and he couldn’t help but grin knowingly. He erased that on his face when Levi looked up at him. “So, Dad, what are you going to do about Cindy?”

“What about the publicist?”

Caelum sat back down, leaning forward to enunciate his next words. “Well, it’s quite obvious that she’s so enamored by you.”

Levi scoffed a disdainful laugh. “Why would she? I’m not interested in her in some way. I don’t even like women her age.”

“That’s the thing, Dad. I heard from her yesterday that you’re planning on telling me something. I figured it would involve her since she suggested it. It might be a different thing than what you told me right now.”

“Oh, that. I decided, with the help of Petra and the other workers, that you will be the face of the tea shop. Since I am not too comfortable with the idea of having my pictures posted on every branch, a majority vote prompted you to do the job. But Mikasa suggested that we also do that by putting you in the new label design. It doesn’t have to have your face on it, just your silhouette. I think Isabelle will do that well enough.”

“So,” Caelum prolonged the word, “you’re not engaged to her, right?”

Levi looked ready to barf his lunch. “What? Where the hell did you get that idea?”

A sheepish smile prevented the laugh that was bubbling in Caelum’s chest. “I tend to overthink at times, Dad.”

The silver-eyed man sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You get that from me.”

“I asked you that because yesterday, she told me you proposed to her because you wanted me to have a mother figure. She even told me you dated because you liked her at first sight. She mentioned that you went horseback riding in the sunset like a typical chick flick pairing and there you confessed that you felt lonely because Mom left you. Oh, I mustn’t forget how you reciprocated her feelings under a moonlit night. Hey, Dad, where are you going? Dad?”

“Don’t mind me, Al, I’m killing a bitch this afternoon and it’s best if you stay put while I do that.”

“Dad?!”

Cynthia Maryland is a fucking menace to society.

It has been so long since Levi met a person who just by talking, brain cells are diminishing at every word they utter. The first one who made him feel this way was a genius, however, they were too much for his social battery. They always hung off of him at times during college all because they were your childhood friend, who followed you to America to make you feel like you had someone in a foreign country back then. That was seen as endearing but this time, it’s fucking irritating. Levi didn’t even have to control himself from showing how much he wanted this meeting to be over.

“Miss Maryland, can you please listen to me for one second?” Levi spat out, the stress coming to him in a migraine.

“I am listening, doll, and I guess those plans with Altair didn’t happen because you have me in your office — doors closed and just the two of us,” Cynthia spoke in a sultry voice that didn’t have any effect on the man slumped on his chair. “I will do anything for you, Mr. Ackerman.”

“Thank God for that.”

Cynthia was over the stars at that statement.

“Because I believe it’s time for your job as my shop’s publicist to be terminated. So I suggest getting out of here.”

“What?!” The brunette all but shrieked.

At the commotion, a knock resonated in the room. “Levi, is everything all right in there?” Mikasa asked. “Do you need me to restrain her?”

“No need, Mikasa,” Levi answered, not looking away from the distressed woman squawking in front of him. “Hey, Maryland, what are you whining about? Didn’t you hear what I just said? You’re fired. What are you still doing here?”

“Pray tell, why are you firing me?! You need me!”

Levi rose an eyebrow. “Why would I need you when I have capable people working on the plantation right now? It was a mistake hiring you. Eld was actually the one who wanted to have a publicist for the tea shops and if my secretary said it would be beneficial to the business, I will always say yes. But I guess he hired the wrong person. As for the question of why I fired you, let’s just say, you were spewing things that weren’t even true. And of all people, you said those things to my son. What are you trying to gain from telling him we’re fucking engaged? Money? My last name?”

The brunette remained silent, angry tears dripping on her cheeks.

“Let me tell you this, Miss Maryland, you’re not worth those things. So if you don’t want me to get fucking angry at you, get the fuck out.”

While the whole debacle with Cynthia was happening in Levi’s office, Caelum was in the kitchen rolling a pin over a chunk of dough. The silver-eyed boy was helping Petra with the afternoon snacks, something that the nanny suggested since Caelum looked bored out of his mind, staring into the high ceiling of the living room while lying on the long couch. Only half an hour passed since Levi stormed into his office, demanding Eld to contact ‘that hysterical fucking woman’, and only two batches of apple turnovers were ready for the oven. There were a lot of workers on the plantation, all of them having big appetites, so Caelum and Petra had a lot of work to do.

Caelum just finished his story of meeting Altair for the first time and his shoulders felt so light after spilling everything out.

Petra pensively gave Caelum a wistful glance. “I’m happy that you two found each other.”

The boy looked up at the redhead. An air of earnest gratitude exuded from her, the idea of two twins reuniting was worth being happy about. Petra wasn’t the only one thanking the moon and stars for granting a request, Caelum felt like his world expanded because of that summer camp. “I am happy, too. I got to meet you, Mikasa, and the workers. I want this stay to last longer than a day but Al and I will eventually go back to our rightful homes.”

“Why are you being sad, kiddo? Didn’t Levi tell you that he’s planning on courting your mom again?”

“That’s the thing,” Caelum mumbled. The dough became too thin to wrap around apple fillings at the force he was pressing down on the rolling pin. He sighed, starting over again. “Mum is engaged to someone in London. I can’t even do anything about it.”

Petra hummed casually. “But Altair can.” Beside her, Caelum once again shifted his attention from the dough to her side profile, making her smile. “One thing I know about Al through the years is that he will do everything to make his plan a success. That brother of yours is a stubborn kid but he’s determined to fulfill his goal, which so happens to be what Levi’s planning, too.” She placed the knife on the cutting board, leaving the apples unattended, and faced Caelum with a half-smile. “How about this, you want to make this a success?”

Caelum nodded.

“Then tell your dad who you really are.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “No!” He looked down, cursing himself for raising his voice at Petra. “I mean, he’ll be mad for sure.”

The redhead chuckled before pointing a ladle at Caelum. “That’s where you’re wrong. Levi was always praying every night to have a glimpse of his other son across the sea. Now that you’re here, you’ll be giving him the happiness he always wanted for eleven years. He deserves to hug you, knowing who you are.”

This is how Caelum found himself standing in front of Levi’s bedroom. It was inevitable anyway — his dad finding out his real identity. Letting out a sigh, Caelum twisted the doorknob with clammy hands, opening the door to the image of Levi reading a book on his bed. The boy smiled when Levi looked up at the sound of the door opening.

Levi took off his reading glasses and smiled. “Hey, kiddo, come in.” He lifted his covers as an invitation for the tentative boy. When Caelum got on the bed, Levi placed his book on the nightstand along with his glasses. For a moment, he only looked at his son with soft eyes as Caelum adjusted the duvet to cover his lap. He pulled him close with an arm around the boy’s shoulders, letting Caelum relax against him. “Did you have a nightmare?” Levi felt his son shake his head. “Is something bothering you?” At the silence, Levi looked down on Caelum's onyx hair. He kissed the side of the boy’s head. “I hope you will feel better once we spend the rest of the day tomorrow.”

“I can’t, Dad, I’m sorry.” It was a low murmur that Levi had to crane his head to hear. “I have to go somewhere tomorrow.”

“And where will this somewhere be? Is Mikasa going with you? Or did Petra invite you to go get the groceries?”

The silver-eyed boy squirmed out of Levi’s hold, burying himself in the think blankets.

“Al? Are you feeling unwell? Kiddo?” Levi tried tickling his son’s sides but was only met with muffled laughs. “Al.”

A British accent enveloped the words Caelum uttered next, “That’s where I’m going! I have to go see Altair.”

“And where might Altair be?”

A pause. “In London.” Levi froze. “With his mum, [Name] [Last Name].”

It was as if cold water surrounded Levi, dunking him in a fever dream. It was too good to be true. Of all the surprises he received for the day, this is by far the most responsible for taking away his voice and steady breathing. He couldn’t think properly at the revelation. So this was the reason why Petra looked like she saw the boy for the first time because she did, after eleven years. His heartbeat echoed through his chest, making a duet with his clattering mind. Levi didn’t know what to do. Should he embrace the son he never got to hug in almost twelve years or should he stay quiet and let the night go on, pretending that this was a dream? His eyes started to burn with unshed tears as he carefully lifted the edge of the duvet off the small figure lying beside him. There was no way this was happening. But as he finally got a glimpse of his son staring up at him, eye shape boring some similarities to yours, Levi let out a shaky breath.

“Caelum?”

Caelum sat up. “Yes, Dad?”

Levi’s vision became blurry, arms instantly wrapping around Caelum. He hugged him tightly, worried that this might be a trick of his loneliness, that this was Altair pretending to be his twin to make him happy. But no. He knew Altair like the back of his hand and if he hugged him like this, the little brat would whine at the long physical contact. This was Caelum, hands gentle like yours as they patted his back. He didn’t know he was crying until Caelum rubbed rhythmic circles on his back to calm him down.

“Al and I met at camp and we decided to switch places.” His breath hitched, nuzzling his head on Levi’s chest. “Dad, I’ve dreamt my whole life of finally meeting you. Seeing you waiting at the airport nearly made me cry because you were exactly like Mum’s vague stories. And Al wanted to meet Mum as well so we sort of made the switch impulsively.”

Levi pulled away, a smile present on his face. “Who exactly made this plan?”

“Never in my life would I suggest switching places with my twin. I told Al this is an idiotic plan yet here we are.”

Levi snorted a laugh. “Of course it’s Al’s idea.”

“But Dad …”

“Hmm?” The man waited patiently for his little heaven to speak up.

“I hope you’re not raging at the moment because I love you so much and I just hope that one day, you will love me as me — not as a mirror image of Al.”

Levi pulled Caelum again in a hug, kissing the boy on the crown of his head. “Did you know I was the one who named you?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Since your mom named Altair after a star, I thought it would be best if you were named after the realm the star is situated. You’re my little heaven, Cae, and nothing can change that. I’ve loved you your whole life. Stop being a mopey little brat — I meant that term in the most endearing way possible because your mother was the original one, she was my pain in the ass — and give your dad another hug.”

Caelum felt like he forgot something, choosing this moment to never mention you being engaged to someone and instead chose to let his dad’s warm hugs lull him to sleep.

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[hawks-supremacy]

Yakitori Lunch - Baked Goods

a/n: hello i am back! i finished moving and got settled in so now i can continue writing! i don't particularly like how this part ended but i wanted to get something out after not being on here for over a month. sorry i was gone!

warnings: none

words: 1.3k

Masterlist

Knocking on the door to the Miya household you held a container full of a batch of green tea cookies you made last night. You always felt bad showing up to other people’s houses for meals empty handed, so typically you brought desserts. Maybe that was just ingrained into your brain from always seeing your grandma show up to other people’s houses with food or desserts in hand, either way it's a habit you have now.

You stood at the door for a few minutes hearing some crashing noises coming from the inside, before an out of breath Osamu answered the door. You looked past him and saw a groaning Atsumu laying on the floor, “You asshole!” Atsumu yelled slowly getting off the floor. Osamu shrugged, looking unbothered. “You coulda broke my arm or killed me! Then I wouldn’t be able to play volleyball!” Atsumu huffed, his hands on his knees. Osamu rolled his eyes in response and waved him off. Shortly after Atsumu charged and tackled Osamu, all the while you just stood there blinking and holding your cookies.

“Would you two knock it off and invite them in? I swear you children are going to be the death of me.” Mrs. Miya said, coming to the door. “Come in dear, I am so sorry for them. They’ve actually mellowed out since they were kids if you can believe that.” She laughed as she let you into the house, “You didn’t need to bring anything, I invited you.”

You shrugged as you followed her into the kitchen, “I was taught it was rude to show up empty handed. Where can I set these down?” She motioned to the counter and said that anywhere is fine. After setting the cookies down you offered help if she needed any to which she waved you off and said to have fun. You nodded and walked into the living room where Atsumu and Osamu were still arguing and fighting. You stood there watching for a few seconds before clearing your throat. Osamu stood up straight, shoving Atsumu back one last time as Atsumu pushed his shoulder. “Do I get a tour?” You asked after they finally stopped fighting.

“Yeah come on, I’ll show you around.” Osamu said, starting to walk away. You quickly caught up with him as he began the house tour. Obviously you already knew the kitchen and the living room. He gave brief descriptions and tidbits about each room as you came across them, like how when he and Atsumu were kids Atsumu pushed him off of their bunk beds and he broke his arm. Or how the space underneath the cabinets in the bathroom was his favorite hiding space when they played hide and seek as kids.

By the time Osamu was done showing you around and talking about the house his mom was calling everyone to eat. Upon entering the kitchen you saw Atsumu talking with his mom, which wasn’t suspicious until Atsumu looked at you with a shit eating grin. You sat down at the table as their mom brought over yakitori for lunch. “Sorry it’s nothing fancy. Osamu is the cook of the house, but I wouldn’t let him.” She apologized as she sat down. You shook your head, dismissing the statement. “Don’t worry about it, I love yakitori. I would prefer it over something fancy anyday, Miya-san.” You said as the plate of food was passed to you.

She smiled as you passed her the plate, “Please you can call me mom.” Coughing Osamu whipped his head towards his mom with wide eyes, “MA!” He yelled. “First of all Darling, don’t talk with your mouth full and don’t yell at the dinner table. Second of all, what? Suna calls me mom, why can’t your partner? How long have you two been dating and you haven’t told me?” She asked nonchalantly before she took a bite of her food. This time it was your turn to cough as you processed what she said. You and Osamu stumbled over your words as you tried to explain that you weren’t in fact dating, but were just close friends. She looked at you both confused, “But Atsumu told me earlier that you two were dating.” She looked at Atsumu who looked back sheepishly as he left out a few laughs before she narrowed her eyes at him, “Miya Atsumu you are in so much trouble. How dare ya make a fool out of your own mother?” She scolded as she smacked the back of his head.

“It’s fine really, just a misunderstanding.” You said waving your hands trying to dismiss the whole situation and move past it. “It’s not fine, I’m so sorry for just assuming my own son was telling the truth. I wouldn’t have thought he was a liar.” She ignored Atsumu and he tried to apologize. “Regardless, you can still call me mom if you want, as I said before Suna does so you can as well.”

“Suna does it more as a joke Ma.” Atsumu said as he stuffed his mouth with food. “He still does it ‘Tsumu.” Osamu said in return. “Shut yer face idiot, I wasn’t talking to ya.” They went back and forth like this for a while before their mom interrupted them telling them to stop fighting in front of the guest.

“So what happened yesterday at the mall?” Miya-san asked as she finished up her food. You shook your head at the thought of the store employee. “We were trying to leave one of the sports stores when an employee stopped us all and accused us of stealing. One of my friends was trying on this god awful bag as a joke and left it on and forgot about it, he tried giving it back saying it was an accident but the employee just got an attitude about it. He called mall security when I tried sticking up for my friend. It was a stupid situation that shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry you had to come pick us up.” You explained the situation and Miya-san started laughing.

She waved her hand as she continued to laugh. “I’m sorry dear, I’m not laughing at you or anything. It’s just not the first time I’ve had to pick up the boys from that mall holding cell is all. The first time it happened they were fighting in a store and they knocked over and broke some things and were refusing to pay for it because they didn’t have any money. I had to come and pay for it and pick them up.” She explained, still laughing a little at the situation.

You guys finished lunch talking about different subjects, like if you knew what you wanted to do after school or how your classes were going. You, Osamu and Atsumu moved to the living room while Miya-san cleaned up the kitchen. You had an hour before Shinsuke would be back to pick you up and take you home so you all were just going to sit down and talk. You had suggested you play a game of some sort but their mom shut that down saying that games were temporarily banned after the twins had broken a lamp last time.

Once Miya-san was done cleaning up she came into the living room where you guys were laughing at a story that Atsumu had told. She told stories about the boys and you told stories from when you and Shinsuke were kids. You all had fun laughing at and with each other and before you knew it an hour had passed and Shin was knocking on the door ready to take you home. You told everyone goodbye and gave everyone hugs and Miya-san told you to come back soon. “Did you have fun?” Shin asked as you got in the car. “Yeah, I really did.” You smiled in response as you drove back home.

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[dangan-writing]

Anon Asked- Hey! I was wondering if I could maybe have some headcanons for Gundham, Fuyuhiko, and Kiyotaka (separately) with an S/O who has trouble eating? Like the S/O is scared they look gross when eating and sometimes doesn't want to eat because they think they look bad? I totally understand if you don't want to so don't worry! Thank you so much, and I hope you have have a good day! /gen

of Course Anon!

I hope this meets up to your expectations! if i doesn’t just tell me so i can rewrite it!

@twisted-lies​

🖌мσ∂ αиgιє🖌

🐾 gυи∂нαм тαиαкα 🐾

Gundham watched as you slowly poked at your food with the fork you were holding, focusing your attention to your friend next to you blabbering on about whatever had came to their head, replying back happily, enjoying every second of the conversation you were having with your friend.

Then the question came out of your best friend’s mouth. “Hey (S/O), are you going to eat that..? you’ve been poking at it for quite a while now...” Your friend tapped their chin then pointing at your fork that was mid way into the lunch. “O-Oh it’s nothing! i’m not hungry today!” you rubbed the back of your neck shyly, a small drop of sweat rolling down your face and to your neck. 

“but didn’t you say that yesterday? and the day before that? AND the day before that! is something wrong (S/O)?! please tell me you’re eating at home!” You best friend exclaimed, gripping your hands. Gundham watched from in front of both of you before speaking up

“(RANDOM NAME) is correct, your weak mortal body needs it’s recourses to keep moving on!” he exclaimed, crossing his arms. “well i just eat a lot at home and-” You get cut off by Your friend pointing the fork towards your mouth, some of the food on it. “here comes the choo choo train (S/O)!” they exclaim, their eyebrows furrowed together with a smile on their face. “n-NO!” you shoved the fork out of your face, causing it to drop on the floor

Your friend blinked at you, shocked at your sudden outburst, they were expecting you to just move your head away and they would continue teasing you. You turn back to your food and stare at it blankly, Gundham looked at you and your best friend.

“(S-S/O)...is thou okay?” he asked, focusing his gaze towards you, you nodded before looking up “i’m sorry about that, let’s just continue talking”

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-Gundham ended up finding out you weren’t eating cause you didn’t like people seeing you eat

-he attempted to reassure you that (quote on quote) “No Mortal would dare turn their wretched gaze to thou while thou feasts”

-you found it cute and that small reassurement let Gundham see you eat

-you were nervous at first but Gundham said (again quote on quote) “that thou, seems to be in the most peaceful state while feasting, your cheeks also start looking like chipmunks when you chew” he mumbled that last part

-Gundham suggest you eat more in public

-he supports you in anyway he can

-and eventually you start eating front of a small group of your friends, trusting they won’t tease you about how you eat

-all thanks to GUNDHAM TANAKA-

👶fυуυнιкσ кυzυяуυ👶

You sat next to Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi talking to them both while poking the food with a fork, often stopping, when you had to get up to do something. Both males would look at each other and ask question why haven’t you’ve been eating? and when you would return they would quickly change the subject and act like nothing was wrong

“Heyy! (S/O)! can you try this for me! i made it myself and wanted someone to taste test it first!” Kazuichi said, holding up a small container with some food in it. Kazuichi gave a thumbs up to Fuyuhiko while the small yakuza just drank a juicebox giving him the same motion. “o-oh sorry Kazuichi i-” The pinkette quickly shoved the food into your face in hopes of you taking it and eating it, clinging on to the strand of hope that you were starving and would want to eat. “come on! my cooking is that bad is it...?!” he exclaimed 

‘n-no of course not! it’s just that-” you were once again cut off by Kazuichi “then why won’t you eat it?!” he shoved the container closer to your face to the point where it was like a hand holding you back “Because i’m not hungry, Kazuichi” you attempted to remain calm, moving the container from your face.

Fuyuhiko, who was watching from a distance, sighed, taking a quick sip of the juicebox, and walking towards you both “if you want i can taste it first and you can try it after” Fuyuhiko suggests, Kazuichi stares at him as if he is holding a gun to his forehead, mouthing ‘Dude! the plan!’ Fuyuhiko shrugged and put his juicebox on the table and grabs the container full of the homemade food and took off the lid, taking the spoon from Kazuichi and dug in. 

“this is amazing Kazuichi, you should cook more, here, (S/O) try some” Fuyuhiko scooped some of the food and held it in front of you mouth. “i w-would gladly try some b-but-” another moment where you can’t finish your sentence, Fuyuhiko had groaned and started nearly shouting at you “Damnit! why won’t you just eat?!” He snarled, Kazuichi behind you both sat Fuyuhiko down “maybe we should listen to them-” Now Kazuichi was the one who was cut off. “No idiot! i’m making them eat this if it’s the last thing i do, Now open your goddamn mouth!” Fuyuhiko nearly shoved the food in your mouth if it wasn’t for the fact you moved your head. The small Yakuza boy glared at you once again attempting to feed you, his stubbornness getting the best of him. “Dude leave them be! if they don’t want to eat they shouldn’t have to!” Kazuichi exclaimed, grabbed Fuyuhiko’s arm and sat him back down in his seat. “just calm down” Kazuichi patted Fuyuhiko’s back. Fuyuhiko let out a sigh and started to eat his own food again, staring up at you every once in a while.

|---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------|

-If Fuyuhiko found out that you weren’t eating because you were self conscious

-prepare for a 20 minute lecture from him on how you’re amazing and shouldn’t care about other’s opinion

-he’s now pushing you to try and eat in front of him to see if that eases you into eating in public

-”why in the world would i give a fuck about how you look when you eat? i don’t care how you eat, as long as you’re eating in general”

 -any time you eat in front of him he’ll compliment you so much just to boost your self esteem

-he eventually convinces you to start eating in front of Kazuichi

-Kazuichi accidently offended you which caused Fuyuhiko to death glare him along with smack him on the back of the neck

-if someone were to insult you about how you look while eating, Fuyuhiko threatens to “dispose” of them if you know what i mean

-after a few months you can now eat in public without feeling having to focus on how others think of you

-all thanks to Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

����кιуσтαкα ιѕнιмαяυ🧭

“Mr/Ms. (L/N)! it is required that all students eat at lunch since it’s against school rules to eat anywhere else!” Your friend Kiyotaka exclaimed, after watching you poke at your meal for 10 minutes “Oh i’m not hungry Taka” you smile at your friend, trying to ignore the feeling of hunger in your stomach

“but-” You cut Kiyotaka off “seriously, i’m not hungry, i ate a big breakfast at home this morning” that was a lie, you only at some pancakes and eggs along with some orange juice and you were absolutely starving, you would sometimes eat in the bathroom if your hunger got to out of hand.

Taka sighed “i guess” he muttered, looking down at his own lunch and sighed, “i’m...worried about you, you know? i never see you eat at lunch...” Taka rubs the back of his neck, looking away from you disappointed. you also looked down sadly, silence fell between you two.

|---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------|

-he eventually found out you would starve yourself  during lunch

-taka nearly had a heart attack, and almost nearly cried

-he offered you 

-you had turned around and eaten it so he wouldn’t see how you looked while eating

-when finally pieced together why you didn’t eat

-he takes you to the guidance councilor daily

-you became friends with your councilor and she helps you with your self esteem every day during lunch

-she encourages you to eat in front of Taka, in which you do

-he threw your self confidence through the roof with the compliments he gave you

-anytime you eat he’ll look at you and blush, telling you how cute you are when eating

-you only eat in front of Taka, and Taka only

_______________________________________________________________

Mod Angie apologizes that Taka’s was so short, i couldn’t really think of much for him

i hope you enjoy this though! 

мαу αтυα вℓєѕѕ уσυя ∂αу

🖌мod Angie signing off🖌

#🖌мσ∂ αиgιє🖌 #Mod Angie writes #Gundham Tanaka #Gundham Tanaka x reader #Fuyuhiko kuzuryu #Fuyuhiko kuzuryu x reader #Fuyuhiko x reader #kiyotaka ishimaru #kiyotaka x reader #Kiyotaka ishimaru x reader #gender nuetral reader

[bbyboybrock--archived]

The New Hampshire House (Trap House Imagine)

Summary: You and the trap house boys decided to travel to New Hampshire for a week to film Sam and Colby’s new series. Trouble arises on the first night.

Written: 2020

Word Count: 2,250

Warnings: Swearing, murder, haunted house

Masterlist

Slowly sliding through the mist came a faint human-like figure and went into the new house. I shrugged it off as my imagination and helped the guys carry everything inside.

When Sam, Colby, Jake, and Corey invited me on this trip, the last place I expected to be was in a haunted house in the middle of nowhere in New Hampshire. I knew we would be doing the typical stuff for the week: haunted overnights, explore videos, and midnight rituals. What I didn’t know is that they lied to me about our lodging situation. I was told we were going to be staying in this nice Air BnB in a cute little neighborhood. They even showed me pictures. But when we flew in Colby announced to me, because he had already talked to everyone while I was asleep on the plane, that there was a problem with the original house and he had to book this one last minute. We’ve been at this house for about 20 minutes and let me tell you, Bradford, New Hampshire looks and feels creepy. 

“Y/N, come in the living room, we have to talk.” I heard Sam shout from probably the living room.

“Coming!” I exclaimed. I walk into is what I think is the kitchen and spot Colby walks into a different room. I follow him and find everyone sitting around together.

“Y/N, we have to get a few things for this week and we need you to stay here and set up some stuff,” Sam explains when he sees me. 

“What? No way! I am not staying in this creepy house by myself! Why can’t we all go or one of you stay we me?” 

“We’re going shopping for food and supplies for the week. The rental is small and we need to get a lot of things.” Colby explains, patting the seat next to him for me to sit.

“Sure leave the four of you in charge of getting the food we’re going to be living on for the next week. You know what, I’m willing to put feminism back a few years for this. I’m the woman here and I’m probably going to be doing all the cooking anyway. I’ll go grocery shopping, Jake can stay home.” I sit on the armchair by myself and cross my legs; I’m not going out without a fight.

“Y/N, you know if we leave Jake, we’ll never get the deposit back.” Corey jokes. 

“Fine, then you stay Ye Rock.”  

“Fuck that, I’m not staying here.” 

“Then why do I have to?” 

“Please, Y/N, we’ll all owe you big time. We’ll be gone for an hour—two hours tops. We just need someone to charge the equipment and double-check that we have everything.” I throw my hands up and sink into the couch. There is no way I’m going to win this argument.

           I wave goodbye to everyone as they pull out of the driveway. I scan the street one more time before locking the door. We’re really the only house out here. Nothing but dirt and trees for miles. If I didn’t know any better, I would think we were in the middle of the suicide forest. I check all of the equipment that Sam and Colby left behind for me to charge. I stay downstairs for 20 minutes after that before going upstairs to my room to unpack a bit. I close the door and start putting my clothes away. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

I go and open the door, knowing that I’m the only one home, to find nobody there. It’s probably just one of the guys trying to scare me. Maybe they wanted to get a prank video done and make me the subject of their torture. I close the door and go into the closet to start putting some clothes on hangers again. I see a box probably, from the owners, tucked away in the corner. I know I probably shouldn’t open it, I’m a guest in this house. But my curiosity gets the best of me and I get the desk chair and climb on it to reach the shelf. After a few misses, I grab the old dusty brown box. I blow the dust off and open it to find old newspaper articles about this house.

THE DAILY NEWS: MAN MURDERED IN HIS OWN HOUSE

Mark White (Age 37) was murdered in his home today. He suffered head wounds and had multiple stab wounds. His wife (Arianna White, Age 35) found him dead in the family room with the possible murder weapon. Police officers found no fingerprints on the evidence… 

Out of all the houses in the area, Sam and Colby had to choose the murder house. They probably did this on purpose. I go through the box I see pictures of a man and a woman, probably Mark and Arianna, standing in front of the house. Then I pick up another newspaper article.

DAILY NEWS: WOMAN MURDERED IN HER HOME

Arianna White (Age 35) was murdered in her home today. She has suffered gunshot wounds to the head and chest. Mrs. White’s husband was murdered last month in the family room and his wife was found there dead. Her children found her dead when they came home from school and called 911. The family was in the process of moving.

           They have to be fucking with me. There is no way that this group of people, the group that is always doing spooky shit, just happened to book an Air BnB where two—possibly more—people have died. On top of that, them leaving me home along with wouldn’t be a coincidence either. There have to be hidden cameras around the house. How did I find the one room in the house that conveniently just had this box in it?

“No, absolutely fucking not. Nope. Fuck you guys. I’m over this, you picked the wrong bitch.” I shout to nobody in particular and put the box back. I grab my laptop and head to my bed to binge the series I started yesterday.

I must have been tired because I fell asleep while watching the show. It’s dark now and the house is unusually quiet. I sit up and turn on the light to look for my phone. I grab it and unlock my phone to a text from Colby saying that they dropped off the groceries but had to head out for something. He said that they didn’t want to wake me up, so they left without me and would come back with dinner. I rolled my eyes and head downstairs. I pass by the thermostat on the way down and turn on the heat. For the middle of summer, it’s oddly cold. 

When I get to the kitchen I check to see what the four dumb asses managed to get us for provisions. Surprisingly, they got things that we can have for actual meals, on top of snacks. I grab the stovetop popcorn and begin to make it. I turn around and hear a loud crash behind me. The bags on the dining room table were now on the floor. 

“Y/N,” I heard a faint voice say. This has to be a prank. They guys have to be home and hiding filming me somewhere.

“Get out of our house, Y/N.” Now I hear two faint voices one sounded like a man and the other sounded like a woman. This getting weird. Maybe they hired a woman to help prank me. Or maybe one of them finally nailed their fake woman voice.

“You guys can stop now! I’m actually scared so you won. You come out and welcome me to the prank war.” 

“Nobody’s here, Y/N. No one is going to help you.” The voices are getting closer. 

“I’m never doing another video with any of you, ever again. If you don’t— if you don’t come out right now I’ll move out.” 

“Then leave!” Something else falls somewhere else in the house, causing me to scream and jump back into the hot stove. If it’s not the guys, then the ghosts of this house are still here holding a grudge against their killers. I start getting goosebumps and the hair on the back of my neck as I turn off the stove.

“Sam, Colby, Jake, and Corey you better fuck off right now!” I yell as I start running to my room. This house is huge it’s easy to get lost. 

While I’m running things are flying and falling behind me. I’m going to kill them when I see them. After what seems like forever I finally get to my room. I lock the door and slide my back down it. I grab my phone from my back pocket and dial Colby’s number. As I call, I feel things getting thrown at the door.

“Hello—”

“Are you guys fucking with me right now?” I ask as I move myself to the closet.

“What do you mean? We’re not even home right now.” He sounds only mildly panicked, I don’t even know if he’s faking or not.

“Cole Robert Brock, are you and your asshole friends somewhere on property pulling a prank on me?” The banging on the door stopped and I poked my head out of the closet door.

“No, we’re on our way home from a witchcraft store for some ritual ingredients that we couldn’t find at the store. What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, things are weird here and I’m over—” A loud bang at the door causing me to scream louder than I think I’ve ever done in my entire life.

“Oh, shit. Okay, we’ll be right there.” I hear Colby and everyone else running in the background. I don’t know if it was my scream or if they heard the bang in the background, but now they’re done fucking around.

Colby stays on the phone with me while I go back to hiding in the closet. A few minutes later I hear footsteps approaching my door. When the footsteps get close enough, that when the loud banging started up again, causing me to scream.

“Oh, fuck, sorry. Y/N, it’s just us, open the door.” Colby says on the other line.

I take a few deep breaths and open the door to reveal my idiots, scared out of their minds. I drop my phone and wrap my arms around Colby. I didn’t even realize I was crying until Colby hugged me back and started stroking my hair. Normally, I hate it when he does this because his rings get stuck in my hair, but right now I just need this hug from my best friend.

“What the fuck happened to the house?” Jake asks, breaking the silence.

“What do you mean? It was your guys’ prank.” I pull away from Colby and look at the four of them in disbelief. 

“Uh, not it’s not. The box in your closet, the stuff in your bathroom, and the two dummies outside are our pranks. All this other shit was all you.” Corey says, picking up broken glass and dropping it on the floor. 

“No, it wasn’t. Do you honestly think I’m that good of an actress? I broke character like two months ago when I tried to convince Sam that Colby fell into a ditch the last time we did an overnight. Do you genuinely think I could sit here, screaming and crying for fun? Or that I would somehow have the time to break all that shit and stage the knocking on my door.” I wipe my face and step back to finally let the boys in my room.

“She’s not wrong guys, she does share a brain cell with us. I don’t think she could pull this off. She didn’t even know we were coming here until this afternoon and she can’t think that fast.” Jake says before flopping himself on my bed.

“You know what Webber, I may be scared, but I’m not scared to throw these hands—”

“Guys! Let’s think about this. Couldn’t it have been an earthquake or something? Or the movement of Y/N running. It’s a pretty old house.”

“It can’t be an earthquake dude, I’m pretty sure New Hampshire hasn’t unlocked those yet,” Corey explains.

“Okay, first of all, Sam I’m pretty sure you called me fat but I’ll deal with that later. Second, Corey, you’re so fucking stupid, I swear to God. I’m constantly worried about your well being. And thirdly, Colby either you’re sleeping in here with me or I’m sleeping in your room with you because I refuse to sleep alone tonight.” I explain, sitting down on the floor.

“Wait, can we talk about this seriously. If none of us set up this prank, then who the fuck did. Do you think the owners of this house are doing this? Because if they are, I vote we get the fuck out right now.”

“Why would they even do that?” Sam asks, now joining me on the floor. 

“To scare us before they murder us, brother,” Jake says jokingly from my bed.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Corey says from the door.

“Can we be serious for one second—” Sam is cut off by the lights going out, covering us in a deep velvet of pitch black. Not even the windows are helping. All five of us scream but dare not move.

#spooky imagine #trap house imagine #spooky imagines #halloween imagine #halloween imagines #trap house imagines #traphouse imagine #traphouse imagines #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby imagines #sam golbach #sam golbach imagine #sam golbach imagines #colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock imagines #jake webber #jake webber imagine #jake webber imagines #Corey Scherer #corey scherer imagine #corey scherer imagines #imagine #imagines #xplr #xplr imagine #xplr imagines

[alyssaallyrion]

Title: the course of true love (never did run smooth)

Rating: M

Summary: A soulmate AU in which Itachi and Shisui aren’t soulmates, but love, as usual, finds a way. 

Written for ShisuIta Week 2021 Day 4 Prompt: Soulmate AU

ao3 link 

Chapter 1

Itachi feels the ground under his back – a sudden pain of fall resonating through his body, knocking the air out of his lungs. Wincing, he opens his eyes and draws in a sharp breath. Shisui is over him, the red of his eyes slowly fading to black.

“Looks like I win again,” Shisui says, “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Itachi lies – he’s still a little dizzy from the fall, “One more match?”

“I don’t know about you,” Shisui smiles brightly, “But I most certainly need a break. Not all of us can be as relentless as you.”

Shisui leans forward, offering Itachi a hand to help him up. With a sigh, Itachi grips Shisui’s forearm firmly, letting Shisui heave him to his feet.

“Let’s get some water,” Shisui offers.

Itachi hums absent-mindedly, distracted by the way Shisui’s hot skin feels under his palm. Suddenly coming to his senses, Itachi realizes that his hand has lingered longer than it should and instantly releases his grip on Shisui’s arm, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

In truth, Itachi too could use a break – they’ve been sparring for hours now, since the early morning – but Itachi has always felt an almost painful need to show Shisui that he can keep up with him.

Itachi wipes his forehead with the backside of his hand, wicking away the sweat. Summer has finally come to Konoha, filling the air with warmth and light. Training on the hot days was harder but necessary – years of serving in the ANBU have taught Itachi that being prepared for any conditions is essential to the survival and the success of the mission.

Itachi and Shisui walk to the posts on the edge of the training fields, where they left their belongings. Picking up his water flask, Itachi takes a large sip. The water is warm, having sat out in the sun all day, but it still feels refreshing.

“Your last move was excellent,” Shisui smiles, wiping his mouth with his hand, “I barely dodged it. Who knows, maybe with a little more practice, you’ll be able to get me one of these days.”

“Are you afraid?” Itachi chuckles, taking another sip of water.

“I should be, shouldn’t I?” Shisui laughs softly, “You are a genius after all.”

Itachi rolls his eyes and brings the flask to his lips again.

“Itachi, hold still for a moment,” Shisui says suddenly, “You have leaves in your hair.”

Itachi hardly needs Shisui’s help, but he likes Shisui’s touch, so he does as he’s told. Shisui runs his fingers deftly through Itachi’s hair, making a quick work of the offending leaves. Itachi almost regrets that there aren’t more of them so that he could feel Shisui’s touch for longer.

“There you go,” Shisui smiles, pulling his hand away.

“Thank you,” Itachi murmurs softly.

“Oh, I’ve almost forgotten,” Shisui says, closing his water flask. Reaching into his bag that rests on the ground, Shisui produces a small, rectangular box, “I’ve got you these.”

A smile blooms on Itachi’s lips as he realizes that Shisui has gotten him sweets from his favorite dessert shop in the village.

“Why did you get me sweets?” Itachi frowns, accepting the gift.

“It’s almost your birthday,” Shisui grins widely.

“My birthday isn’t for another week,” Itachi protests as he unwraps the ribbon.

“That’s true,” Shisui shrugs, then meets Itachi’s gaze, “Maybe I just like to see you smile.”

Itachi hopes that the color brought to his face by hours of sparring is bright enough to hide the blush rising in his cheeks. As he opens the box, he’s almost overwhelmed with the lovely smell. He wants to try the sweets so bad, but he knows he can’t just yet – the hour’s getting late, and Itachi had promised his mother that he and Shisui will be home in time for dinner.

“It’s too bad it’s almost dinner time,” Itachi sighs, looking wistfully at the sweets.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Shisui smiles mischievously.

Itachi glances between his best friend and the sweets in the box. The temptation is too much to resist.

“You’ll have to eat some too then,” Itachi says, “Just so you’re also implicated.”

“You really thought this through,” Shisui laughs as Itachi offers him the sweets.

Itachi cannot help but smile as he tries the candies – they are delicious and taste of sweet cherry and vanilla. Itachi has always had quite the sweet tooth – if it were up to him, he could likely eat his weight in sweets. Itachi wants to thank Shisui for getting him the candies, but when he glances up at him, the words die on his lips as his breath hitches in his throat.

Shisui’s mouth is sticky sweet from the sugary glaze coating the candies. Itachi watches, mesmerized, as his tongue darts out to collect the sweetness, unfamiliar yearning rising in his chest.

Then Shisui shifts and the spell is broken. Itachi shakes his head, chasing away the strange feeling. <em>What has come over him?</em>

The sun is setting slowly over the village, painting the sky red and orange. Itachi doesn’t want to walk home – the exhaustion from having spent the day sparring finally catching up with him – but he knows that his mother will be cross with them if they are late.

“We should go,” Itachi says, “It’s almost time for dinner.”

Shisui doesn’t argue.

They collect their belongings, then take the short way to Itachi’s house. The Uchiha compound is quiet in the early evening hours – most people are at home having dinner with their families before bursting back out onto the streets to enjoy a warm summer night.

They walk side by side through the streets of the compound, and Itachi feels at ease – as he usually does when Shisui is by his side. When Shisui looks at him, he doesn’t see the clan heir or the ANBU captain or a genius shinobi – he only sees him, Itachi.  

“I wonder what your mother has made,” Shisui says, distracting Itachi from his thoughts, “But then again, all her cooking is amazing.”

“You know,” Itachi looks over to Shisui, “You might be my mother’s favorite dinner guest – I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as enthusiastic about her food.”

“Well then they must not understand anything about good food,” Shisui replies easily, “Homemade meals prepared with love are always the best!”

There is a wistful expression on Shisui’s face, and Itachi’s heart clenches. Shisui is an orphan – both his parents died when he was really young. <em>He must miss them so…</em> For all Itachi’s issues with his father, he is really grateful to have a family.

To distract Shisui from his thoughts, Itachi nudges him lightly.

“Maybe you should get married then,” he says, teasingly, “If you pick right, you could get all the homecooked meals you want.”

“And devastate half of Konoha?” Shisui laughs, glancing at him, “Such a cruel suggestion, Itachi.”

He knows that Shisui’s joking, and, yet, Itachi’s heart drops at his words – with Shisui’s good looks and charming personality, it was little wonder that so many were smitten with him. He knows he has no right to feel this way, and still, he cannot help it – he hates the thought of Shisui with someone else.

They turn the corner and find themselves outside of Itachi’s home.

“Itachi, is that you?” his mother calls from the kitchen as soon as they enter the house.

“Yes, mother,” Itachi responds as he and Shisui take off their shoes and head to the kitchen.

Mikoto’s standing by the stove, somehow tending to three different pots at the same time.

“Hello Shisui,” his mother smiles, glancing over her shoulder, “You two came just in time – the dinner is almost ready. You better be hungry – I’ve made way too much food or three people.”

“Very are famished and very excited for the food,” Shisui replies easily, earning an even brighter smile from Mikoto.

While Itachi’s father has always been somewhat apprehensive around Shisui, realizing, perhaps, that his primary loyalty was to the village rather than to the clan, his mother has always adored him.

“Is Sasuke not here tonight?” Itachi asks, frowning.

“He’s over at Kushina’s house,” Mikoto shrugs, “With Naruto.”

Itachi smiles – it’s good that Sasuke has friends his age.

“Do you need help with anything?” Shisui asks Mikoto.

“Just carry these to the table,” Mikoto nods at the few platters resting on the counter next to her.

They do as they are told.

The dinner goes well, and, as his mother recounts a story from her days as a kunoichi in response to Shisui’s amusing tale from the recent mission, Itachi finds himself wishing they’d have evenings like this more often.

“Itachi,” his mother says softly, distracting him from his thoughts, “You are unusually quiet today.”

“I’m just a little tired,” Itachi shrugs.

“I can only imagine,” Mikoto frowns, “You have been out training since the early morning without any rest. Training is important – but you two should take better care of yourself!”

Shisui shoots him a glance that can only mean, “I tell you that all the time.” Itachi rolls his eyes at him, saying without words, “Look who’s talking.”

They help Mikoto clear the table after dinner. Itachi lingers in the kitchen with his mother for a moment as Shisui heads back to the dining room to get more plates. Once Itachi puts cups into the cupboard, he turns around and notices his mother look at him intently.

“Mother, is something wrong?” Itachi asks, confused.

“No,” Mikoto shakes her head, “Not at all. It’s just that time flies so fast. I feel like only yesterday you were a tiny child in my arms, but not you are almost a man grown. To think that you are turning sixteen in a week – old enough to get your soulmate mark…”

“Mother,” Itachi interrupts her instantly.

Smile leaves Mikoto’s features, replaced by a concerned expression.

“Right,” she says, “I’m sorry.”

Itachi doesn’t want to talk about soulmates – especially not around Shisui. Everyone in the village had their soulmate mark appear on their sixteenth birthday, but, somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, Shisui never got one. Itachi always thought this unfair – Shisui was an incredible person and deserved to be loved.

Itachi remembers the day of Shisui’s sixteenth birthday all too well. Shisui was supposed to return from the mission late that night, but Itachi’s heart was fluttering with nervous anticipation, and he realized that he could not wait till the morning to see him. Instead, he got Shisui’s favorite cake and went to his apartment to wait for him there.

Time stretched slowly, and it was well past midnight when he’d finally heard the front door open. When he saw Shisui, Itachi felt a lump in his throat – his friend looked utterly exhausted, and there was a strange sadness in his gaze. Itachi’s never seen him look like that.

The instant Shisui’s eyes fell upon Itachi, his face lit up.

“Itachi!” he exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to be the first one to wish you happy birthday,” Itachi smiled at him.

It wasn’t technically Shisui’s birthday anymore since it was well past midnight, but Itachi thought it was close enough.

“Thank you,” Shisui breathed out, walking over to Itachi and pulling him in for a hug. Itachi’s heart fluttered in his throat as he buried his face in Shisui’s chest. Only one question was burning in his mind, but somehow, Itachi couldn’t find the courage to ask.

The thought of Shisui having someone else’s name on his skin burned his heart. Back then, he thought it was because they were close friends – after all, it was not uncommon for people who have just found their soulmates to spend time with them and neglect other people in their lives, at least for a while. Itachi always loved spending time with Shisui, so the thought of being apart from him was painful. It took too long for Itachi to realize that this wasn’t mere jealousy of a friend – that he’d been in love with Shisui all those years.

Once he had let Itachi go, Shisui headed to the shower, as he usually did after the mission. Afterward, they settled at his kitchen table and ate the cake Itachi brought. Itachi noticed a deep, fresh scar running up Shisui’s forearm, and his breath hitched in his throat – so close to the artery, it’s good that they had a medic on their team.

Itachi looked Shisui in the face, the question burning on the tip of his tongue. Finally, he could not handle the uncertainty any longer.

“So…” Itachi started slowly, “Have you…?”

Shisui met his gaze calmly, then smiled.

“No,” he shrugged, “I didn’t. Looks like I don’t have one.”

Itachi looked at him in stunned silence. Shisui’s tone was so casual that it seemed he was talking about the weather and not about not having a soulmate. Itachi felt conflicted – a part of him was overcome with sadness for his friend, but another, selfish part, was almost relieved. There was another feeling niggling at Itachi’s heart that he could not yet– now he knows it was the anguish of not being Shisui’s soulmate.  

The next few days passed in a strange haze – Itachi was both terrified and hopeful that the mark could still appear. But days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, then years, and Shisui still never got a soulmate mark.

People were, of course, surprised and sympathetic – it was almost unheard of for someone to never receive their soulmate mark. Shisui was the pride and joy of their clan, and everyone was waiting with bated breath to find out who his soulmate was, and, when it turned out he didn’t have one…People haven’t looked at him the same.

It always angered Itachi – to him, Shisui was the most incredible person. What did it matter if there was no soulmate mark on his skin?

Dread rises in Itachi’s chest at the thought of his own fast-approaching birthday. Ever since he learned that Shisui didn’t have a soulmate, he has hoped that he, too, won’t get a soulmate mark. He didn’t need a soulmate mark to tell him who to love – for so many years, he’s only loved Shisui, only wanted Shisui. And Itachi would never let some stupid mark change the way he feels.

The thought of someone else’s name on his skin makes bile rise in Itachi’s throat. He wants to be with Shisui - or no one at all. He knows that Shisui – his selfless Shisui – will never be with him if he got someone else’s name, all in a misguided attempt to make Itachi happy. But what if being with Shisui is all Itachi ever wanted?

Itachi pushes the thoughts away – there is nothing he can do now, with his birthday still a week away. His exhaustion finally catches up with him, making him dizzy. His mother notices immediately and shoos Shisui and him upstairs to sleep.

They part at the top of the stairs – Itachi heads to his own room and Shisui to the guest quarters. When they were younger, they used to sleep in the same room whenever Shisui stayed over, but with time Itachi’s parents thought it more proper that each had their own space.

In his room, Itachi switches into his sleeping clothes and crawls into his bed. He’s exhausted, yet somehow, sleep doesn’t come. Despite the warm day, his bed feels cold, and he keeps twisting and turning, trying to find a comfortable position. Itachi gives up with a sigh, then gets out of bed and heads out of his room.

He knows he shouldn’t do this – not now that he’s realized that he has feelings for Shisui, but he cannot stop himself. Not when sleeping in Shisui’s arms always felt so safe and comfortable. He wonders briefly if it’s improper but pushes the thoughts away – when he and Shisui are together, nothing ever feels wrong.

Itachi finally reaches the guestroom and opens the door quietly. Shisui is lying on the futon, fast asleep, his curls strewn across the pillow, his mouth slightly open.

“Shisui,” Itachi murmurs, stepping into the room.

Shisui shifts slightly then opens his eyes.

“Itachi,” he whispers, voice hoarse, “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah,” Itachi nods, then gestures at the futon, “Can I…?”

“Of course,” Shisui smiles, moving to the side, “Just don’t poke me with your elbow again.”

Itachi scoffs, crawling into the bed next to Shisui. They’ve grown quite a bit in the recent years – once upon a time, this futon was big enough for both of them to sprawl out without touching, but now they end up pressed close together. The warmth radiating from Shisui makes Itachi’s skin tingle as he shifts closer, leaning against Shisui’s side.

As soon as Itachi’s head touches the pillow, he starts to drift off.

“Comfortable?” he hears Shisui whisper against the crown of his head.

“Yes,” Itachi mumbles sleepily, “I wish it was always just the two of us.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Shisui replies softly.

With that, Itachi finally falls asleep.

#itachi uchiha #shisui uchiha #shisuitaweek2021 #shisuita #shiita

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Nightmare In A Dream (Part 1)

Summary: Six months after reuniting with the Winchesters and her brother, things are going good for the reader. She and Dean are happily together and occasionally stay with her brother, Matty, and Sam, who has been getting him used to normal life. Life appears to be heading in a good direction when the past has a way of creeping up again and dropping a bombshell on them all...

Pairing: Serial Killer!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Square: AU!Dean

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: mature (language, angst, death/murder, drugging/kidnapping, family drama)

A/N #1: This is a spin off of A Dream In A Nightmare and takes place ~6 months later. It’s recommended that fic is read prior to this one...

A/N #2: Written for @spndeanbingo​

_____

“Good morning,” said Matty as you came downstairs with Dean. You’d taken to staying over the vacation house Matty and Sam were permanently staying at over the weekends and a couple times during the week, even if Dean had to make the drive back home for work. “I made breakfast.”

“Thanks, Matty,” you said, heading for the fridge to get out some orange juice for the three of you.

“Smells good. Sammy’s really been doing a good job teaching you how to cook,” said Dean.

“He’s really good at it. He’s super smart at like, everything,” said Matty, dishing the food onto plates. Dean sat down at the kitchen table, Matty quiet before he brought the food over and took a seat himself. He glanced at the front door and you saw the worried look on his face.

“He’s just out on his run. He’ll be home soon I’m sure,” said Dean. Matty nodded and you brought over the drinks, starting to eat your meal. Dean picked out a piece of eggshell and pushed it to the side, Matty staying tense for the rest of breakfast.

“I’ll cleanup,” he said when you finished, your plate gone before you could blink.

“Matt,” said Dean. He swallowed from where he stood at the sink, glancing over at the table. “You can stick ‘em in the dishwasher. It’s why we have it,” he said.

“Oh. right,” he said.

“Breakfast was great,” said Dean. “Thanks for cooking.”

“Of course,” he said. Dean sighed and leaned over to you.

“I don’t think we should do this today,” he whispered.

“He needs the push,” you said quietly.

“He’s already upset about the eggs,” mumbled Dean.

“He needs to learn that part of life is being uncomfortable,” you said, smiling when Matty came back to get the glasses. 

“He was kidnapped for a good portion of his life. I don’t want to scare him,” said Dean.

“Neither do I. Sam’s gonna be a little late and that’s that. He needs to be his own person,” you whispered.

“Guys,” said Matty as he shut the dishwasher. “You realize I can hear everything you’re saying.”

You and Dean shared a look, Matty walking back over with crossed arms.

“My hearing is pretty good. I can’t exactly unlearn that skill,” he said. “I know I still get scared about stuff I shouldn’t, like accidentally leaving egg shell on a plate, but please don’t play games with me. I can function without Sam or you guys here. I know I’m not exactly normal like you guys but I’m doing my best.”

“Okay. We uh, we were going to have Sam come home an hour later than he normally would to see how you’d react,” you said, your brother pouting. “You’re doing so amazing with everything, Matty. But people are late sometimes and we wanted to see how you’d react.”

“We can’t use the kid gloves forever. It’s not fair to you,” said Dean, giving him a nod. “But we can be upfront about trying those things in the future.”

“I appreciate the honesty,” he said. “I’m not a kid. I might be a little behind for my age and I don’t understand some things but I’m 21 years old. Please treat me like an adult.”

“Alright,” you said. “You can’t blame us for wanting to give you some of your childhood back though.”

“Yeah but who in this house had a childhood? We all had shitty versions of it. Sometimes I feel like I was the lucky one out of us four if I’m being honest,” he said. “If you want to get me out of my comfort zone, alright. I’m willing to try too. Just don’t lie to me about it.”

“I think we can agree to that,” said Dean. You hummed and forced a smile.

“You guys cool if I go take a hike in the woods this morning?” he asked.

“Yeah. We have to run back into town, do a few things around the house,” said Dean. “We’ll be back for dinner?”

“Sounds good,” he said. Twenty minutes later you were dressed and in the car, Matty walking into his usual spot in the woods around the house.

“You think he has a point? That we’re all fucked up?” you asked, Dean pulling out of the driveway.

“Probably. I’m a serial killer after all,” he said. 

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe we’re the ones that need to be watched and not him.”

“He didn’t say that and while none of us has had great lives, we had freedom. Matty didn’t but he’s never killed anyone either. We all got shit to deal with. He needs more help right now is all,” said Dean. He reached over and held your hand, getting a small smile out of you. “We don’t have to do this today.”

“I haven’t killed anyone since Lewis. I’m nervous,” you said. “Even if this guy deserves it.”

“He’s a bad guy. He’s a monster. We kill the bad guys. James Smith deserves to go. He needs to go,” said Dean.

“I know.”

“If you don’t want to do this, it’s okay. I can handle it on my own,” said Dean. “I’m the one that likes it. You’ve always been forced. It’s different.”

“You don’t enjoy killing. You enjoy protecting people. That’s the part you like,” you said. He didn’t say anything as he continued to drive. “You were forced too.”

“I pushed a guy in high school and accidentally killed him. That girl? She thanked me for stopping him. No one forced me to go out and find other bastards to get rid of. That was all me. That’s not normal.”

“I disagree,” you said. He laughed and you rolled your eyes. “I’m serious.”

“Who on earth forced me to kill any one of those people? Who?”

“Lewis.”

“Lewis forced you. You had no choice. You had no choice because of me. I-”

“A psycho became obsessed with you when you were a kid. Was that your fault? Was it?” you asked. He was quiet and pulled over on the side of the road. “Was it?”

“No. But the choices I made, that my family was forced to make, that got your parents killed and your brother killed and your other brother lived in a hole in the ground for a decade because I didn’t let him have me. If I had, Sam and my dad could have come out of hiding. Those things? Those are on me. Killing? That’s on me. I killed the people I could find, the ones I could go after because Lewis? He scared the shit out of me. He still fucking does. The only thing I was forced into was ruining your life,” he said. “You’re not going after James Smith today. You’re not killing anymore if you don’t want it. I’m fucked up. Not you.”

“I don’t think either one of us should be doing anything today besides going home to the house and taking a quiet day for ourselves,” you said.

“You’re right. I’m not focused. We’ll hold off on it,” he said with a sigh.

“Can we talk about what you just said at least?” you asked.

“What’s to talk about?”

“Us and Sam and even your dad when he drops by, we have all been focused on getting Matty healthy and okay. I know he’s far from perfect but he’s getting there. My brother probably isn’t going to have a normal life. He knows it and we know it. It’ll be quiet and probably a little lonely but he’ll be safe. We need to take a day to talk about you.”

“Talk about what?” he said. You stared at him and he gave it right back, throwing up his hands. “No really, what? I want to know.”

“Maybe...maybe we shouldn’t kill people at all anymore. It seems like it’s stressing you out,” you said.

“Did you literally hear the words that just came out of your mouth? Seriously?”

“All I want is for you to be happy and lately you’re on edge. I don’t think you ever sat down and dealt with what Lewis did to you and you need to.”

“Are you my fucking shrink now?” he said, scoffing before he was back on the road. “If you have shit you’re going through, that’s fine. Don’t project it onto me or some crap.”

“What is your problem?” you said. “I want you to be okay. That’s it.”

“I am okay. Problem solved.”

“Don’t fucking go back to treating me like I’m some kind of prodigy or something.”

“Oh, you mean the time you were working for Lewis to fuck me over?” he said. 

“Fuck you. Stop the fucking car,” you said. He quickly pulled over again and you got out, the other door opening behind you. “I’m walking back so you can go on and fuck off.”

“Y/N,” said Dean. You didn’t look back, a hand on your arm quickly, Dean stopping you in your tracks. “I’m sorry. I’m fucked up. I’m more fucked up than Matty ever could be. I don’t...I don’t want you to love me. It’s why I’ve been pushing your buttons lately. You can have the house with Matty and Sam. Or the one back home. I don’t care. Just keep it. Just stay away from me. You’re better off without me.”

“What are you still scared of?” you asked. You spun around, Dean looking past you with a quick glance down. “What?”

“I think Lewis is back,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

“Dean, I killed him. I saw him bleed out.”

“You thought you killed him before you passed out,” said Dean.

“The police have the body. He died. They buried a body,” you said.

“I know they did. I dug it up a week ago with my dad,” he said with a sad smile.

“Dean. Who was buried?” you asked. He shut his eyes and you put your hands on your head. “No, no, no. No, he’s dead. No, please no.”

“It was a different guy. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up and then yesterday at work I got a strange phone call, just a little humming before it hung up. I got one from a different number a week ago too which is what prompted us to check the body. I think they know that we know. James Smith...I think Lewis had another backup plan and this guy was it. He’s around our age from the profile we did so it makes sense. I think there were always two plans and I think James Smith helped Lewis survive and recover. Or if Lewis didn’t make it, James is intent on coming back for me revenge. It’s why I want to get rid of him and yesterday.”

“This is going to sound like a horrible thing to even say,” you said, running your hand over your face. You glanced over to Dean and saw him shake his head. “I know it must have crossed your mind too.”

“Matty is not James Smith,” said Dean. “I triple checked the timelines. Matty was with Sam the whole time they were stuck in the cellar and once they got out. He never left his side. There’s no way it was him who helped Lewis.”

“What if he still fucked with my little brother’s head?” you asked. “He was there for ten years. Ten fucking years and we all always thought it was a little weird he wasn’t a shriveling mess.”

“You’re about to get really mad at me,” said Dean.

“For what?”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and you saw it was on speakerphone.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Matty from the other end.

“What is going on?” you asked.

“Dean told me about his suspicions with Lewis. He and Sam questioned me about it earlier this week. Every so often, I thought maybe there was another person there. I never saw them. I always thought it was you which is why I never said anything. But I learned more about where you were at certain times and it couldn’t have been you. The guys wanted to make sure I wasn’t pretending. I don’t blame them for that. It got kind of intense which is the real reason I was timid this morning. They freaked me out some but I’m okay. I know they’re on my side.”

“Why the Hell didn’t you guys tell me about this?”

“It was my decision,” said Dean. He leaned back against the car and closed his eyes. “You’ve always been the protector. I wanted to take care of you for once. I wanted you to not know he was back.”

“We are going back to the vacation house. Now,” you said. “Matty, I want you back from your hike and tell Sam to get there wherever the hell he is.”

“I’ll see you guys in a few,” said Matty before he hung up. You threw up your hands, Dean not bothering to look at you.

“Never keep me in the dark again,” you said. He nodded and headed back into the car. “Dean.”

“I understand. I’m sorry.”

“I know why you did it but this is too big. Let’s get back and pronto.”

Half an hour later you were sitting on the couch, Sam coming downstairs after his shower. There was a knock at the door and it opened, Dean standing up and giving a nod down the hall. John stepped inside and headed straight for the kitchen, cracking open a beer from the fridge.

“It’s ten in the morning,” you said. He chugged it down and gave you a bitchface. “Oh I am not in the mood today, John. Don’t even start your shit.”

“Start my shit? Kid, I don’t care what my boys think about you. I still don’t trust you and I never will.”

“I saved their lives.”

“After handing them over to that scumbag. You’re no saint. I know where your priorities lie. Dean’s judgement is too clouded to see it but I-”

“Enough,” said Dean, shooting his father a dirty look. “You two don’t get along and that is fine. But we’re all on the same side. We need to figure out what our next move is. Together.”

“I told you to keep her in the dark,” said John.

“You got some trust issues there, John?” you shot back. He walked over to you and leaned down into your face.

“You threw my boys to the wolves for your brother. I know where your loyalty is and it’s not with them. It’s with him,” said John. Behind him you saw Matty gripping the pillow in his lap, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“You’re upsetting, Matty. I won’t apologize for protecting my brother. I’ve already talked about what I did with Dean and Sam and it’s their forgiveness to give, not yours,” you said.

“You will do anything for your brother. If you betrayed us once for him, who’s to say what you wouldn’t do for him now?” said John.

“Dad. That’s enough,” said Dean. 

“She and that fucked up brother of hers are working for Lewis or this James Smith guy. Even if they aren’t, they will. She’ll pick him over us in heartbeat. I’m not throwing away everything, all of the sacrifices we’ve made as a family, for people that are going to betray us,” said John. He walked around the coffee table and grabbed Matty’s arm, pulling a zip tie out of his coat pocket.

“What the fuck is your problem?” said Sam, pushing John away. You were out of your seat, Dean pushing Matty back towards you.

“Keep them secured until we deal with Smith and potentially Lewis. When they’re dealt with, those two can be on their merry way,” said John. 

“No one is doing that,” said Dean, turning to face your brother. He was behind you, clinging to your shirt like his life depended on it. “Matty. Look at me. No one’s doing anything to you.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he said. You grabbed his hand and he squeezed it far too tight. “I don’t…”

“Come on, Matty,” said Sam, giving him a soft friendly smile. “Let’s go take a hike. You didn’t get to take it this morning really.”

“I don’t…” he said, Sam smiling before Matty nodded. 

“Sammy, you need to-”

“Fuck off,” said Sam back at his father. Sam took Matty’s hand and quickly went out the back deck with him, the pair crossing the yard and into the woods.

“How the Hell can your brother think that-” said John before Dean grabbed him and shoved him against the closest wall.

“Do you have any idea what you just did to that poor fucking kid? He’s been getting better. It’s been three months since he’s been that scared. Even when Sammy and me questioned him he was still okay. This place is supposed to be safe for him and you had to go and fuck that up. That could have been Sam. It could have been me. His life got fucked up because of the Winchesters. You threaten him or Y/N ever again and I’ll add you to my fucking hit list,” said Dean.

“The only reason that kid made it this far is because he fell in line with Lewis.”

“The only reason he made it this far was because of her,” said Dean, pointing over to you. “You think we had a fucked up life? Try listening to hers. In case you forgot, she saved Sam and me. She risked her brother’s life for us. She tells me that Lewis made me this way, that none of it was my fault. That what I turned into isn’t my fault. That I should take the day off so we can focus on me, help me deal with the jacked up shit in my head. She’s a fucking saint I don’t deserve. None of us do. If you can’t respect her or Matthew, if you can’t protect them the way they protect us, then you can get out and never come back. Sammy and me don’t need any more angry men trying to control our lives anymore.”

“You need to grow up!” shouted John. Dean took a step back and John shook him off. “All I have ever done is protect you and Sam. All I-”

“I told you that Lewis was watching me. I was a kid and he scared me. He hurt me. He hurt you and Sam and mom. My mother is dead because you couldn’t stop him. Sam had his life destroyed because you couldn’t stop him. I don’t know how to be normal because of you. You couldn’t even protect me after the fact. I lost friends, people I cared about, because you couldn’t stop that monster. I’ve spent my life alone. I can’t be alone again. I won’t,” said Dean. 

“Fine. I’ll handle it myself,” said John. He started to head down the hall when he paused. “I’ve never been perfect but I kept you both alive. If you want me gone from your life, fine. I’m gone.”

“Dad,” said Dean, John getting out of there quickly. “Dad.”

John walked straight over to his truck and got inside, Dean barely getting to the driveway before he was out on the road.

“Dad!” yelled Dean but John was already driving off. You waited on the front porch, Dean standing there for beat before you went over to him. “Why doesn’t he want me?”

“He’s scared for you and Sam. It was a fight. It’ll be ok-”

“He always leaves me alone,” said Dean quietly. “I don’t think he even likes me. I think he pretends for Sam.”

“Dean-”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m too old for this anyways. I’m going to make up a sandwich for Matty for later. He likes those on bad days,” said Dean as he headed for inside.

“I don’t get along with your dad, Dean. But if I was in his shoes, I’d probably be wary of us too.”

“Half hour ago you were pissed at me for keeping the truth from you and now you’re trying to make me feel better? Why?”

“Because I know you did that so I wouldn’t be scared and your dad, despite how he goes about it, was trying to do the same thing for you and Sam.”

“I’m sorry about earlier and Matty. I think it might be better if I go back home and try finding out more there,” he said. You took a deep breath as he went inside and threw your head back.

“Somebody up there please keep an eye on him for me today.”

Four Hours Later

“Hey, Matty,” you said, knocking on the door to his room. You peeked your head inside the master and saw him on bed watching TV, Sam looking at something on his computer. “I brought up some cookies I made.”

“Thanks,” he said. You put the plate down on the nightstand as Matty tucked his legs up under himself. You sat on the edge of the bed, Sam looking over the top of his screen at you. “I’m okay. I don’t need two babysitters.”

“I’m sorry about John,” you said.

“Matty was okay once we got outside,” said Sam. 

“I’m better now. I just really don’t want to ever wear a pair of those zip things ever again,” he said. You nodded and he took a cookie off the plate, his sleeve riding up to show a few scars on his skin. “Y/N?”

“Sam? Can I ask you and Matty to do me a favor?”

“What’s up?” asked Sam.

“Dean owns this house. It’s in his name. There’s a possibility Lewis knows about it. Or Smith does. Can you take my brother somewhere safe while we deal with this?”

“Y/N. You-”

“Matthew,” you said, watching him swallow. “You are never being hurt like that again. Sam will keep you safe. I know you trust him to do that for you.”

“Yeah. I do. But if someone is out there, if there’s two guys out there, you need all the help you can get. I know enough to know what I need to do if I start having a panic attack. I will go somewhere with Sam but then he’s gotta head back to help. I can cook for myself. I can be alone and not freak out. You need Sam more than I do,” he said.

“Matty, I’m not comfortable leaving you-”

“I spent most of the past ten years alone. I can survive on my own for a while,” he said.

“He has a point, Y/N, and Matty’s capable of handling himself. I’ve taught him a few things asides from schoolwork and cooking. He knows how to shoot and throw a few punches,” said Sam.

“Alright. But I want him someplace he can move if he needs to and get help, get around other people,” you said.

“I’m not supposed to go out in public yet,” he said.

“You may be forced to if something went wrong. Are you okay with that?” you asked. He nodded and you took a deep breath. “Sam, did you pick up the other thing yet?”

“I’m supposed to this afternoon,” said Sam.

“Get it on the way,” you said. “It’ll be good company for him.”

“Company?” asked Matty.

“We got you a dog. A german shepherd. She’s been away at training. Us three thought you might like her. She’s some responsibility for you and some comfort. She can protect you in a worst scenario too,” you said. “It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I always wanted a German Shepard.”

“I know. You were supposed to get one that year for your birthday before everything…” you said. You shut your eyes and sighed. “Matty, I’m-“

“Don’t say sorry. You didn’t pick this,” he said. “I’ll be okay. I promise. You guys go get Dean and figure it out. Please.”

“Okay,” you said.

“If you see John...tell him I’m not mad. He got scared too. I know a thing or two about that,” he said. 

“We will,” said Sam. He looked over at you and gave you a smile. “I’ll go start packing the car. I have a safehouse up North a bit I think’ll be good. Nice little cabin, perfect yard for Maggie.”

“Do me a favor, Sam, and spend the night with him?” you asked.

“Of course. I’ll come and meet up once Matty’s all settled in,” he said.

“Thanks, Sam,” you said before he left the room. “Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself?”

“I’m sure. Does my dog have a name?” he asked.

“Maggie. She’s sweet,” you said. “You’re gonna have to feed her and clean up after her and take care of her though.”

“I got it. Don’t worry about me. I’ll lay low. You be careful too. Don’t fall for any of his tricks.”

“I won’t. I’m gonna see you in a few days. Maybe we can take Maggie with us and go to the beach or something,” you said.

“I’d like that,” he said.

“Alright. Sounds like a plan then,” you said. You gave him a hug, Matty returning it with a tight one of his own. 

“Thanks for protecting me again,” he said quietly. 

“Always. I’m going to pack up the rest of the cookies for you to bring with you, okay?” you said.

“I know you’re scared too,” he said. “Promise you’re gonna come back.”

“I promise, Matty. A few days from now this’ll all be over.”

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A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#spndeanbingo #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #serial killer!dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean reader insert #dean x #dean winchester x you #au

[bastillewolf]

Midnight In Sheffield (VII)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: When a soon-to-be-wedded insomniac author heads back home to visit her parents, she comes across the likes of a mysterious musician whilst on her sleepless escapade in the AM.

Notes: I took a bit longer to write this chapter, and thank you all so much for the patience. If you didn’t know yet; I got accepted into a writing school! I can’t express the gratitude I feel right now, I owe it all to you. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Chapter VII - I Wanna Be Yours

Her feet dragged across the pavement, and this time they showed no hesitance because they knew exactly where they were going.

She didn’t find the building she was looking for the first corner she rounded, so she took a detour, until the lights seemed to change and the asphalt disappeared and she nearly tripped over the uneven brick road. A group of men turned their heads when they’d heard her swear loud enough she was sure she’d woken up the deaf grandma that lived in the attic at the end of the street.

As soon as she met his eyes in the pub, she wasted no time do drag him away from a very confused Matt, out to the hallway where the bathrooms were. They were occupied by couples doing, well, what you can imagine they were doing, as well as ladies trying to not-so-subtly sniff a questionable substance from its counters, but she couldn’t be bothered right now. Alex didn’t seem surprised to see her, and it irritated her how calm he was while she was practically having a mental breakdown.

“Guess who I met this morning,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

He raised a brow disdainfully, almost offended by the way she was manhandling him and throwing vague questions at him. But she didn’t waver, so he thought he’d humour her anyway. “The wedding planner? I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to be a bit more specific,” he replied.

“Oh, I’ll be a bit more specific,” she ground out, “I was just about to head down for breakfast, when I found that my mum had guests over. A couple, about her age, people I’d never even met before. But somehow, they seemed familiar to me.”

Alex hesitated. He had a feeling where this was going, yet remained silent.

“That’s when I learned their last names. Turner. And they told me all about their missing son, and how he hadn’t even left a note saying he was leaving, and how worried they were. That the only reason they hadn’t called the police yet was because you’d pulled off stunts like this before. But that now, you’ve been gone for years. Without a word.”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business, really-“

“Oh, don’t you fucking start with me, Turner. You made it my business when you started interfering with mine.”

It took her a moment to realize why her mouth was tingling. He had his lips pressed against hers, and they were warm and inviting. He tasted like what she’d expected him to this time around; expensive whiskey with a hint of smoke. His eyes were closed, and without those piercing brown orbs staring back up at her, she almost thought she was kissing someone else.

Hang on a minute.

She shoved him back, “You can’t just do that!”

He raises his eyebrows innocently. “Why not?”

“You’re trying to distract me!”

“Whether or not you get distracted by me is irrelevant, love. I was just hoping we could have a good time, and I was, until you nearly knocked me off my feet and dragged me out into some dirty hallway.”

She glared at him, “You deserved that. I’m engaged.”

Looking across the hall and around the bar, he casually shrugged. “I don’t see him anywhere. And I certainly didn’t hear you complaining last night.”

She felt it at the pit of her stomach when faced with reality; a deep, underlying sense of guilt. What had happened between her and Alex, was something she hadn’t ever felt before. And that scared her senseless. It shouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen. And she had to make it very evident to him, that this could not go on this way. She had Mark, ad he was all she needed. He didn’t deserve this. Neither of them did.

“Alex, what happened yesterday, it was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let it get to that point, and I’m sorry I led you to believe that I felt that same interest in you that you have for me. It can’t happen again, and I hope you understand.”

He seemed indifferent, but his words were harsh as he took a step closer to her, up until the point where she could feel his hot breath fanning across her already burning cheeks. “You can blame it on wedding nerves, or insomnia, or insecurities all you want, love. But I think you and I both know that last night really meant something. I can’t blame you for lying to me, I really don’t mind. I’ve had enough lies thrown at me before. The thing is, though, I won’t let you lie to yourself. You’re better than that, smarter than that. And most importantly, you deserve better than to be in a situation where you have to lie to yourself to not give into those feelings.”

“Alex-“

“I’ll tell you all about my parents. About what’s going on. About why everything seems to be stuck in time when the moon finally hits the sky. I’ll tell you, but only if you’ll tell me how you really feel.”

“I…” She hesitated.

All she could think about was that night Mark walked away from her. She thought of how sad her mother would be to hear she wouldn’t get married after all. She thought of Rachel and James, who would be telling her they told her so, and then laugh about it all behind their back.

She thought of what might happen to her if Mark wasn’t there. How was she going to get around?

She thought of all that time wasted, trying to make something work that might not have ever been intended to work at all.

“…I don’t know what to feel right now.”

She looked up at him in search for answers, but he wasn’t willing to give her any.

“I feel… scared, confused… and most of all, fucking tired.”

She was glad to see the corner of his mouth quirk up at that at the very least, and comforted when he slung his arm around her shoulders, and said, “Let’s go get you a coffee, then.”

 ***

Alphonse was a trained chef from years of hard work at the cook’s school in Paris. He knew how to make any dish, in any way, shape or form, and most importantly; how to make one with love. It might sound cheesy, but everyone knows that’s the key ingredient to a successful meal.

Alphonse was very good at cooking and working with love. He was also very good with the ladies, if he was allowed to say so himself. But he had to admit, his temperament was short, and he was awfully bad at being patient with people who were subconsciously withholding affection from one another.

So, when Mr. Turner had stepped back into the restaurant with his Cherie asking for a cup of coffee and looking mighty burdened with heavy topic, he scraped back his chair, and stormed off into the kitchen to angrily grind some coffee beans.

“Is he all right?” she wondered, as she hung her coat over her chair.

Alex shrugged it off.

Furthermore, even though their cups nearly cracked from the force Alphonse smacked them onto their table with, the restaurant was as quiet as ever at this hour.

“I suppose I’ll leave you to it, then,” the chef grumbled, and strutted back into his kitchen.

She turned back to the steaming dark liquid, trying to focus her attention on the swirls her spoon were creating instead of the tense feelings she got from being alone with Alex once more.

“It’s a long story,” he finally spoke up, “But I need you to look at me while I tell it.”

She did as asked.

 ***

“When we were still in school, we’d already started the band. Played a few gigs here and there. Managed to catch the eye of a record company once someone had put some of our demos online. We got lucky, and managed to release a few albums with them. But fame isn’t all that fun anymore when your last record flopped and your manager is trying to sell you out.

I’d gone home for a few weeks to think things through; what I wanted to do with what was left of my career. So I went for a walk, late at night.”

She gave him a knowing look, and he nodded conformingly.

“I met Miles at Mardy’s. A pub I’d never seen before, in a street I’d never walked through. I thought I’d seen all of Sheffield when I was younger, but it turns out I was wrong. For when the clock strikes an uncertain hour, and you watch the ground shift beneath your feet when you’re not paying attention, you walk right into what appears to be a glorified version of the twenties.”

She recalled their gig on that night she’d also met Miles. “So your guitars…”

“I’d just taken them from home,” he confirmed, “No electric guitars invented yet at that time, so I had to bring them myself. Strangest thing is, the people don’t question it at all. They just think it’s another fancy new instrument that hasn’t officially hit the market yet.”

“So, what? You just decided to continue your life at night here?” she asked.

“It was simpler. I don’t have to run from the paparazzi, or do interviews where people question my sanity all the time, or get dragged for who I date or knock about with. We released an album with instruments and music that’s way ahead of its time here, and we’re seen as legends. It’s as simple as that.”

“But, Alex… I think this album could easily hit the top charts in the regular world.”

He scoffed, “They said that about our last album. And the one before that. And when they don’t do as well as you’d expect them to, people will say it’s ‘underrated’, but you know deep inside you could’ve done better.”

“Music is about more than just hitting the top charts,” she reminded him.

“I know. Yet it appears that the feeling of validation through it has left a bigger mark on me than I had expected. I expected more from my own music, and was disappointed when I couldn’t deliver. I’ve finally found a place where everyone enjoys my music again.”

“So, what? You just decide to spend the rest of your life here, a fantasy world in an attempt to hide from reality? From your family, all the people who care about you?”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“It’s not as simple? I think you just made it very clear how simple this all really is,” she said.

“Matt thought the same thing. Until he started playing with us for the first few nights, and even he was convinced. It’s hard to explain. It’s why he didn’t want you to stay around for too long when we hung out in the pub. This place gets to you.”

“He was just convinced after a few good shows?”

“I don’t think you understand,” he said, “If you stay here too long, if you spend too many nights in this version of Sheffield, you won’t be as willing to leave. It’s like an addiction; a place where all your dreams come true, if only for a little while, a few hours maybe. But you just can’t stay away from it. Once it takes hold of you, you can’t escape.”

Her brows furrowed. “What are you trying to say? You’re stuck here like this forever?”

His eyes cast downwards. “I couldn’t say. But I’ve never had good reason to leave.”

Her heart was swelling in her chest. “And what if you did have a reason?”

“What?”

“What… What if I wanted you to leave… with me?”

It was as if a spark flashed in his eyes, but then quickly snuffed out. “Don’t do that,” he huffed, “Don’t give me hope. You should be out there, living your life without chasing after the ghost of a man and blaming it on your insomnia.”

She took hold of his hand across the table, and squeezed it tightly, too afraid he’d take off if she didn’t. “I should be out there, living my life. But so should you. You’ve made me feel things I thought I was unable to feel, and I wouldn’t have experienced any of this if it wasn’t for you. You can still escape from this, Alex. I know you can. I can’t do this without you.”

“It’s not that simple, love.”

“Why not?”

“You shouldn’t want me.”

“Don’t you want me, then?”

His brown orbs lit up passionately, as he leaned forwards and captured her lips in a kiss. “Of course. I want to be yours,” he muttered.

He deepened the kiss, gliding his tongue against her bottom lip suggestively. She opened her mouth and her tongue met his, sliding against it and drawing a quiet moan from her throat. He held her cheek in his hand and slid his thumb over her soft skin gently.

When she pulled back, she had finally made up her mind. “I need to speak with Mark.”

*** @alexbandguy86​​​​ @bettyschwallocksyee​​​​ @fookingsummertime​​​​​ @juicebox-baby​​​​@darksydork7​​​​ @edgythought​​​​ @ssadderdaze​​​​​ @h0twasabi���​​​​ @rogerseyeliner​​​​​ @arctic-monkcys​ @toolateformcrtooearlytoleaveemo​ @rosemallowss​

#Arctic Monkeys #Arctic Monkeys Fanfic #Alex Turner Fanfic #Alex Turner #Alex Turner x reader #Alex Turner/Reader #The Last Shadow Puppets #TLSP #AM #Jamie Cook #Nick O'Malley #Matt Helders #Miles Kane #Humbug #Suck It And See #whatever people say i am that's what i'm not #favorite worst nightmare #Midnight In Sheffield

[songsformonkeys]

Digging Up Bones (whiskey x reader) - chapter 6

[Banner by the lovely @yespolkadotkitty ]

pairing: whiskey x reader

warnings: none

notes: Special thanks to @yespolkadotkitty for the beta <3

masterlist

Chapter 6 - AO3

You woke up the next morning with the scent of agent Whiskey tickling your nose and it made you smile even before you opened your eyes. You were still wearing his t-shirt, which was also the source of the scent, and you grabbed more of the fabric and pulled it up to your nose.

The memory of last night's goodbye played vividly in your mind and you could feel your pulse quickening just at the thought of that kiss. Whiskey liked you, properly liked you. You thought maybe you liked him too, knew that you liked the idea of him liking you, at least. Maybe you could ask Tonic about it - or would that be considered wildly unprofessional? You might have to ask him about that first.

Whiskey had said he wanted to kiss you again. But when? Was it your turn to make him dinner now? You were a lousy cook but maybe you could find something simple to make? You frowned.

The pleasant feeling you had woken up with was slowly but surely simmering away as the what now s came creeping in. The nervous feeling that replaced it stayed with you for the better part of the day and you felt a bit off-kilter, in a way you weren't used to.

When someone knocked at your door later that afternoon you jumped from your seat and stared wide-eyed at the door for a couple of seconds before calling out for whoever was on the other side of the door to come inside.

The door opened and your shoulders slumped in both disappointment and relief when it wasn't Whiskey that entered, but Agent Sherry's considerably larger frame.

“Hiya, Doc,” he said in his dark and rumbly voice. When he spoke you always half-expected the deep bass of his voice to make the water in the glass on your desk to ripple. Glancing at the glass in question you noted that it hadn't quite, this time either.

Agent Sherry was a tall and sizeable gentleman whose calm was infectious. Ginger had told you that he'd been a horse wrangler before joining the Statesmen and if there was anyone you believed capable of calming down those giant animals, it was Agent Sherry.

“Are office hours still open?” he asked and you nodded, motioning for him to step inside and take a seat.

“Are you hurt?” you asked, as your eyes began scanning him for any apparent injuries. He seemed to be walking just fine, didn't look particularly sick either.

“Just a minor incident with a car door,” he explained and held up his hand. You immediately noticed the swelling and when you stepped closer to gently take his hand you also saw that three of his fingers had ugly-looking bruises on them. You turned his hand over and saw the bruises bloomed on the underside of his fingers as well.

“Can you bend them?” you asked and flexed your own fingers in demonstration. Sherry nodded.

“I can, but it hurts... like a word I'd rather not say in front of a lady.” Slowly he bent his fingers and you saw the slight twitch of pain on his face.

“Let's give them an x-ray, just to be on the safe side,” you told him and motioned for him to follow you, “From experience, I know that it's easier to get you agents to take it a bit easier if there's an actual fracture I can point out to you.”

Sherry chuckled and this time you swore you could feel the sound vibrate in your chest.

You made quick work of x-raying agent Sherry's hand and studied the images closely for any damage. Fortunately, none of the bones were fractured but you still requested that agent Sherry take it a little bit easy until the bruising had faded.

He smiled, thanked you, and assured you that he would follow the doctor's orders. Then he tipped his hat in your direction before stepping out of the office. You had barely put the x-ray images away before he knocked on the door again.

“Did you forget something?” you asked, looking around the room, as you walked over to open the door.

Instead of Agent Sherry, you suddenly found yourself face to face with Whiskey, and your heart did some sort of skip-beat that could hardly be healthy for it.

“Whiskey...” you breathed.

“Moonshine,” he countered, flashing his teeth in a smile, “May I come in?”

You nodded and took a step to the side so he could hop past you further into the office. However, Whiskey stopped just inside the office and leaned his crutches against the wall as you closed the door around you. Then he stepped close, almost caging you in against the flat metal surface.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said, low enough that it was almost a whisper, and reached up to touch your face. You thought that, if the look Whiskey was currently giving you was anything to go by, then you probably didn't need to cook him a meal to get to kiss him again. In fact, he was watching you like you were the meal.

“Hello,” you said, smiling back and tentatively reached up to touch the button of his breast pocket, mostly to have something to do with your hands. You wanted to touch him but you were unsure how or where would be appropriate after a first kiss.

Whiskey seemed to read the intent behind your awkward touch just fine, though, and he leaned in so that your noses bumped together gently. He waited for you to bridge the final inch, which you did, tilting your head so that your mouths could slot together.

It was just as soft as it had been yesterday when Whiskey's lips moved against yours this time. You wondered if all kissing was like this and, if so, why on Earth you had waited so long to experience it?

Your lips turned slick with your mixed saliva and you briefly wondered if Whiskey had laced his lips with morphine because you couldn't get enough of kissing him. You didn't even care about the possible health hazard of exchanging bodily fluids like this.

Every time it felt like Whiskey was about to pull away, you leaned forward to chase his mouth with yours, and before his lips could even part from yours, he leaned back in, and you swore that you could hear him chuckle into the kiss. His hand was splayed across your hip, whether to steady you or him, you weren't sure. Your hands were pressed hard against the metal of the door on either side of you. You didn't quite dare to touch him. With the way his kisses made you feel, it was like you didn't quite have control over your body. Your mind was screaming for you to grab him and pull him impossibly close, but Whiskey was still hurt, and you couldn't do that.

Whiskey reached up and gently pinched your chin between his thumb and index finger. Slowly and carefully he pulled down, making your mouth open just a fraction. Just as you wondered what he was doing, you suddenly felt the tip of his tongue glide between your lips and into your mouth, coaxing your tongue to meet his. Tentatively, you copied his movement, licking into his mouth. He tasted faintly of mint and something that you thought was purely Whiskey. It should have been strange, having your tongue in someone else's mouth, but somehow it wasn't, and much like with the close-mouthed kissing, Whiskey was an excellent teacher and you quickly figured out how to do it.

The two of you kissed until it felt like all the oxygen had run out in the room and your lips almost felt sore. It was Whiskey that pulled away first, but he was smiling so you weren't too worried that you'd done something wrong.

“I really liked that,” you commented when he didn't immediately say something. His smile widened and he stroked his thumb across your bottom lip.

“I could tell. I really did too, darlin'.”

Your stomach did a pleasant flip at his words and you found yourself returning his smile, feeling almost a bit giddy.

Whiskey took a small and slightly unsteady step back and you helped him reach for his crutches.

“I went home last night, fearing that I'd just passed out and dreamt the whole thing,” Whiskey confessed as he adjusted his grip on the crutches, “But if these kisses weren't real then surely I'd have skipped past unconsciousness and gone straight to Heaven.”

“Are you insinuating that I would actually let you die in my care?” you asked, crossing your arms across your chest but keeping the smile on your face so he would know you were joking.

“I'm not sure if let is the word I'd use, but there are many dangerous things in this world. If dying was the only way to experience having you in my arms...” Whiskey said with a shrug.

“Don't be ridiculous, Whiskey!” you protested, rolling your eyes at his dramatics, “Besides, I am a very good doctor, and as long as I'm around, I'm not gonna let you die. Okay?”

Whiskey looked at you for a second before a mischievous grin tugged at his lips.

“Seal that promise with a kiss?” he asked and even though you knew you shouldn't encourage his antics, you were hopeless to resist when he reached for you again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kissing Whiskey was quickly becoming your favorite past time. He showed up at your office every day, sometimes just for a few minutes but other times he stayed long enough that it was you that had to break the kiss and kick him out of the office in order for you to get any work done.

It was just kissing. Logically, you knew there were probably other things on Whiskey's mind too – you were both adults after all – but he seemed perfectly content with just kissing you and never pushed for more. It was very nice of him and part of you really appreciated that he wasn't rushing you, but there was also a part of you that found it a little bit frustrating. Primarily because you were pretty sure that you wanted more, but didn't quite know how to go about asking. Every time Whiskey kissed you, there was a burning in your gut that had nothing to do with any bodily malfunctions. It felt hot and warm and pleasant and unpleasant at the same time. It made you want...something more. Made you want him closer even when his arms were already wrapped tightly around you and his mouth already on yours.

You thought about how to go about asking for that something more , as you made your way to the cell where Harry was being held. Maybe you could just outright ask for it? Whiskey would probably understand what you meant.

You opened the door to the office next to Harry's cell and found Tequila snoring softly in the chair by the desk. You cleared your throat and he started awake, looking around in confusion.

“Mornin' Moonshine,” he greeted you, before his eyes quickly darted to the one-way mirror, through which you both could see Harry lying on his bed, reading a book.

“Have you been here all night?” you asked, taking in Tequila’s rumpled shirt and the empty dinner plate next to him on the desk. A slight flush stained the agent's cheeks and he mumbled something about dozing off. You didn't listen too closely to the excuses. Whatever Tequila chose to do with his own time, really wasn't any of your business.

“Would you mind coming with us for the EEG?” you asked, interrupting his string of explanations.

Even though Harry had been with you for quite some time now, and had shown no signs of being anything besides a very sweet man, you still weren't allowed to be alone with him. It would have been endlessly annoying if it weren't for the fact that Tequila had taken it upon himself to act as some sort of guardian for the Brit and therefore was almost always close by for whenever you needed to see Harry. Like today. You weren't completely convinced that Whiskey didn't have something to do with it as well, considering how he always made sure to ask about Tequila whenever Harry's name was mentioned.

Tequila got up from the chair, adjusted his hat, and smoothed out the wrinkles of his shirt.

“Alright, let's get this E...G...something over with.”

“EEG,” you corrected him, as you went to fetch Harry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Those things, they ain't gonna hurt him, right?” Tequila was sitting on the edge of the desk and watched with slight apprehension as you fastened the little electrodes on Harry's scalp. There was a slight note of worry to the agent's voice, which in turn made Harry look up at you as if it was only now that the thought had struck him. You shook your head to assure them both and fastened another electrode.

“It won't hurt,” you said when Tequila didn't look convinced.

“Moonshine, I'm sorry but it's just...when they show this on TV it looks like it would hurt.”

“I would rather avoid pain, if it is in any way possible,” Harry chipped in, a slight tremor to his normally eerily calm voice.

“Yeah,” Tequila agreed, “Isn't there something you could give him to, y'know make it hurt less?”

“They show this on TV?” you asked, having gotten stuck on that detail in particular. Surely there must be more exciting medical procedures to show to the masses for entertainment. You frowned and attached the last electrode to Harry's temple. Then it suddenly dawned on you.

“Tequila, you're thinking of electroshock therapy! Which is occasionally also wildly inaccurately portrayed in the movies, but that's not what we're gonna do, okay?” you explained and looked down at Harry to calm him too. “This isn't the same thing.”

They didn't look convinced. So you pulled up a chair and sat down where you could see them both.

“Harry, when you first came here, there was severe damage to parts of your brain. Now, we fixed that but you still haven't regained any of your memories and so what I wanna do is check and make sure everything is alright in there. These little electrodes measure brain activity and yes, it sorta has to do with electricity but it's because we measure the electrical impulses already in the brain. There will be no shocking and you won't feel any pain, I promise.”

Harry nodded slowly and his shoulders visibly relaxed as you finished your explanation. Tequila also looked reassured. And Tonic said you didn't have good bedside manners. You had to try hard not to look too smug.

“Alright, great,” you said, standing back up again. “Let's get started. Tequila, I'm gonna need for you to leave the room for this.”

“What?” he asked, immediately tensing up again.

“I want you out of the room,” you repeated as if the problem was that he hadn't heard you.

“But we have our instructions...” he said, but the worried look was aimed at Harry, which made you wonder whether it was really your well-being he was trying to insure.

“And I have my job to do,” you argued, walking towards him with a shooing motion, “ I need as few distractions as possible for this. You are a distraction. You can stand outside the door and wait. Everyone's gonna be fine.”

“We'll be okay, Tequila. I promise. I don't want to hurt anyone,” Harry told him and his soft comment proved more effective than your brash assurances in calming the agent down.

“Fine. But if any of y'all make a noise that sounds suspicious, I'm comin' right back in!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It turned out that, just as you had suspected, there had been no reason for a bodyguard in the room. For either of you. Harry was being the most cooperative patient, as usual, and you even tried to make some polite small-talk in order to make him feel even more at ease. Most of the time was spent in silence, though, as Harry had his eyes closed and just breathed slowly, as you scanned the output data from the electrodes on your screen. You were nearing the end of the session. Just had a couple of more things to check left.

Suddenly the door burst open and both you and Harry screamed loud. The data on the screen went bananas and your initial fear was instantly replaced by anger. Spinning your chair around to demand Tequila explained just what the fuck he was playing at, you were instead met with the scowling face of agent Whiskey. His eyes were red-rimmed like they had been running and his jaw was clenched so tight that you wouldn't be surprised if you heard teeth cracking. His right hand was resting firmly on the gun in its holster.

“Whiskey?” you said, surprised and slightly worried by his appearance, “What are you...”

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Whiskey interrupted in a harsh tone, “Champ gave us all very specific orders regarding the guest. Always an agent present!”

You stared back at him, feeling heat of a different kind than the usual one churn in your belly. Kissing him was the last thing you wanted to do when Whiskey was talking to you like a disobedient child.

“And if you hadn't barged in here like a...gorilla, you might have noticed Tequila just outside the door!” You pointed aggressively at the door, “Agent present! The regulations said nothing about the agent having to sit on my stupid lap while I worked!”

Whiskey took a deep breath, his nostrils flared.

“Come on, let's go,” he said, waving you over. You crossed your arms over your chest and jutted your chin out.

“No,” you told him.

“Moonshine, just...”

“I said No . You've just ruined my work and scared my patient. Get out of my office, Whiskey!”

Whiskey looked like he was about to continue arguing but before he could say anything, Tequila cleared his throat from the doorway.

“Doc's right, Jack. We had it all under control. She's a sharp one and I wouldn't have let anything happen.”

Whiskey looked between the two of you, something like sadness flashing across his expression before he nodded sharply.

“Fine,” was all he said before angrily walking out of the room.

You turned back to the computer and busied yourself with shutting down the monitoring program. In actuality, you didn't want Tequila or Harry to see your face as your lip trembled and you blinked back the unwelcome tears that had begun welling up. You felt confused and hurt but what had just happened. Whiskey's anger had been uncalled for, for so many reasons. The lack of faith in your abilities to look out for yourself was also insulting. And, even though that wasn't highest on the list of priorities, you were genuinely upset that the monitoring data had been ruined.

As if reading your mind, Harry spoke from behind you.

“I'm sorry, Moonshine. If it helps, we can start over again.”

Collecting yourself, you nodded and turned.

“Thank you. Let's get some lunch first, though.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had a difficult time completely focusing on your work for the rest of the day. Part of you wanted Whiskey to come back and explain himself, but when he called you as you and Tequila had just escorted Harry back to his cell after the second session with the EEG, you just stared at the screen until the call went to voicemail. Tequila saw it but didn't say anything.

“I'm heading back to my room,” you told him and he nodded.

“Imma...stick around here for a bit,” he replied.

“Say goodnight to Harry from me,” you told him, with a small smile, and he averted his gaze. You hung the lab coat on a hook on the wall and waved at Tequila before heading out into the corridor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were on your way up the stairs when someone called your name from behind. You turned and saw Tonic heading towards you. His long legs made taking the stairs two steps at the time look unfairly easy.

“On your way home for the night?” he asked cheerfully, shaking a strand of hair from his face. You nodded and continued walking, with him falling into step beside you.

“Have you had a good day?” you asked, knowing how Tonic was partial to small-talk. He gave you a knowing smile as if he knew exactly what you were doing but he still answered your question.

“I have, thank you. I'm sorry I couldn't come with you for Harry's EEG but Ginger and I were working on the trauma folders all day. Got Jack's done today, by the way. Thought you might want to know.”

You halted in your step and swiveled your head around to face him.

“Whiskey had his trauma interview today?” you asked. Whiskey hadn't told you that was today. You had thought he would, considering you had been pestering him about getting it done ever since he was well enough after the accident. “Did...did it go okay?” you asked.

“As well as can be expected when we ask people to bring up painful memories,” Tonic replied, “We got through the interview and gave him the day off after that.”

You didn't immediately reply and Tonic, of course, noticed.

“Is something the matter?” he asked.

“He showed up when we were doing the EEG...Whiskey, I mean. He was angry and he yelled,” you explained and started walking again.

“Oh,” Tonic replied, “Sounds like you think the reaction was uncalled for.”

“It was,” you told him, “And I didn't get why he would yell at me like that but...

“But maybe it was my fault?” Tonic supplied, with a small smile.

“No, it's still his fault,” you protested, “He's a grown man. You don't treat people like that. But maybe he was extra sensitive or something because of the interview. He always worries that I'll get injured or that Harry will somehow end up hurting me, he just doesn't usually yell at me about it.”

“Ah...,” Tonic said, chewing his lip, “You know, after the afternoon he's had, I think a slightly over-protective streak is to be expected. I'm not saying that you should let him get away with behaving badly but...let's just say there's a bit of a reason for it that has nothing to do with you.”

“Are you saying I should talk to him?” you asked.

“Well, I am a bit partial to the talking,” Tonic joked, and opened the door to your corridor, “But I'm not telling you to do anything. Both Whiskey and you are adults and I am off the clock.”

You gave him a skeptical look.

“Neither of us is ever off the clock,” you said. He shrugged.

“Alright, fine! But I don't want to meddle in other people's relationships if I can avoid it. It tends to come back and bite me in the ass. And now I'm heading back to my apartment. Goodnight, Moonshine!“

“See you tomorrow, Tonic!” you said with a small wave. It was only after he'd left and the door behind him had closed when you realized that he'd insinuated that you and Whiskey were in a relationship. Were you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You'd already gone to bed when the phone rang again. It was Whiskey's name on the display. Tonic's words echoed in your head and on the next ring, you decided to pick up.

“Hello?” you said, a little hesitantly. You heard a loud sigh on the other end.

“Moonshine,” Whiskey said, relief evident in his voice.

“Hey...”

“Darlin', I'm a fool!” Whiskey stated and the softness with which he called you darlin' made your lip tremble slightly again. You closed your eyes and pressed the phone closer to your ear. “I shouldn't have yelled like that. Not at you.”

“No, you shouldn't have,” you agreed, speaking slowly to keep your voice steady.

Whiskey was silent for a couple of seconds before he spoke.

“Moonshine, I'm sorry.”

“I knew what I was doing...”

“I know you did.” You could hear the pleading in his voice. “You're the best damn doctor there is!”

“And I wasn't in any danger.”

“I know. I just...” You heard him swallow and let out a shaky breath. You sighed, feeling your annoyance drain away slightly.

“Tonic told me that you had your trauma interview today.

There was silence again before he slowly answered.

“I did.”

You cupped the phone with both your hands, suddenly wishing that he was here so you could see him and touch him.

“And are you okay?” you asked softly.

There was no reply. You pressed the phone closer to your ear and you could hear Whiskey's breathing. His breaths were sharp, uneven intakes of air. It was like a stab to your chest as well when you realized that Whiskey was crying.

“Whiskey...” you whispered, unsure what else to say.

“I'm okay, sweetheart,” he tried to assure you but you didn't feel very convinced. “Today's just been a day and a half as far as emotions go. Please ignore this, sugar. I was fixin' to apologize to you properly for bein' a shit earlier.”

“Well, you already called me the best damn doctor there is. I mean, I don't see how you're gonna top that, as far as apologies go,” you said, only half-joking. You heard Whiskey chuckle a little.

“I was thinkin’ dinner and dessert. Maybe a massage.”

“I've never gotten a massage,” you said, thoughtfully.

“Well, I'm quite good at them...” Whiskey drawled, nose sounding a little stuffed still but you could practically hear the smirk too.

“I could come over tomorrow,” you suggested.

“That would be perfect,” Whiskey agreed, “And Moonshine...I really am sorry.”

“I know.”

“And I realize that I'm in no position to bargain here but... you think I can ask you for a favor?”

“What favor?” you asked, but you were pretty sure you were gonna say yes, regardless.

“I think, as soon as I lay down, I'm gonna be minutes away from sleeping. Would you stay with me on the phone?” he asked and you almost suggested that you just come over instead, but Whiskey actually sounded as tired as he told you he was, and even if you left your room now, he'd probably be sleeping before you got there.

“Okay, I'll stay with you.”

“Tell me about your day,” he requested, “What did you do before I barged in?”

And so you did. You told him about breakfast and finding Tequila asleep in the office. Then you told him about Harry's EEG, explaining what it was and what you might find out from the data. Slowly but surely, you heard Whiskey's breathing even out as he drifted off to sleep.

“Goodnight, Whiskey,” you whispered quietly when you were sure he wouldn't miss you if you hung up. On impulse, you lifted the phone to your lips and pressed a kiss to the screen before you hung up.

Taglist: @yespolkadotkitty @agirllovespasta @beccaplaying @ohpedromypedro @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @knittingqueen13​ @pedropascallion​ @scarlettvonsass @heatherbel​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @larakasser​ @fromthedeskoftheraven​ (as always, let me know if you wanna be added or released from the tag list)

#digging up bones #whiskeyxreader #whiskey/reader #whiskey fanfiction #jack daniels/reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels fanfiction #kingsman golden circle fanfiction #my fanfiction

[things-we-used-tc-share]

The Slow Acceptance of Janus Sanders

(And the inevitable plight of falling in love with Patton)

Warnings: Spoilers for the last video sort of.

Ship: Moceit

Plot: When you love someone you start picking up their habits a little. And as it turns out, Janus is actually very good at caring about the others.

Word Count: 3323

--

I: How to Make Pancakes And Friends.

The morning is quiet, the hum of nature outside vast and undisturbed bar the wind and squirrels. The sunlight streams in, the cool air drifting through an open window, and illuminating a man with a cup of tea in his hands as he stares out at the world that had been created for them. He sips the tea, swirling the warm liquid around his mouth before swallowing it, apparently deep in thought.

“Good morning Patton,” He jumps at the sound, looking over to the newcomer, whose arms were crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face as Patton calms down from the fright he just received. “Terribly sorry,” He doesn’t sound sorry, mostly he’s smiling, Patton doesn’t take offense and gives him a warm smile in return.

“Well Janus, you could’ve given me a warning before sneaking up on me like that!” He slides off the windowsill with a shake of his head, his tone reminiscent of a father berating their child, but in a way that only makes Janus feel somewhat accepted by Patton. The patronisation he could do without but whatever helps the moral side cope is also good enough for him.  His name sounds strange coming from any of the other sides’ mouths, yesterday evening Logan had said his name to his face and Janus almost forgot how to breathe.

It’s a learning curve.

“I did warn you, I said good morning,” He isn’t lying, and Patton laughs lightly, shaking his head as he wanders into the kitchen. “Are you making breakfast?” He follows the other like a lost puppy, the moral facet does not mind and opens cupboard doors. “We don’t…need to eat?”

“Need and want are not the same thing,” He hands Janus a frying pan and grins. “Here I’ll show you how to make them,” And he does. Or at least he tries, it takes the deceitful side several attempts of burned pancakes before he finally gets the hang of it. He almost forgets his mysterious façade as he flips a perfect pancake and cheers lightly, Patton grins at him.

It was quite an interesting experience, when Roman and Logan drag themselves downstairs and find Janus giggling into his hands as Patton tries to scrape pancake off the ceiling between fits of laughter.

--

II: Janus is Not Patton, Roman is Not Remus. 

A couple of weeks later, Roman grumbles as he walks in through the front door. He’d made this place, well, a part of him had, and so had Remus. They’d kept reshaping and building the mindscape throughout the years.

Which is why it’s more amusing that he always seems to end up with the most bruises and cuts, because you would think that by now he knew where all the danger was, in a place of his own creation.

“Where’s Patton?” He asks as he stands in the living room, bruises on his face and cuts on his arms. They will heal, but he’s not Logan and he knows very little about the human body in terms of healing (He really should learn so he can heal himself faster). Janus, who is sat cross-legged on the sofa, looks up from the crossword puzzle that he’s staring at so very intensely.

“I think he’s gone outside for something,” He gives a small smile. “What’s the matter?” The tension between them hadn’t quite dissipated from their little argument, so he feels in some small way like he’s treading rough currents or walking a tightrope “May I…be of assistance?” Janus is not Logan either, but he has spent years putting Remus’ bones back into place and tending to nasty scars. “Those aren’t so bad, all you really need is some antiseptic and plasters,” Suddenly, he’s not waiting for Roman’s response as he hurries one half of the creative sides to sit down and grabbing the first aid kit. Roman doesn’t argue, just lets Janus clean up the blood. The elder is distinctly reminded of every time he’s had to patch Remus up; whilst Roman just thinks Janus is much like Patton, for a moment, he swears the care in the other’s eyes, the concentration on fixing something up…if it weren’t for the scales he could’ve been him.

--

III: Take a Moonlight Drive Until You Smile (Or Sleep).

The deceitful side, now that he’s making a habit out of eating food for the sake of it, finds he enjoys midnight snacks. Most of the time he’s alone, although sometimes he finds himself berating the most prominent night owls: Logan and Virgil, about knowing when to sleep instead of doing their jobs. They don’t require sleep in the same sense actual human beings would, but they do still get tired as anyone else would, both emotionally and physically.

This night however, it isn’t Logan or Virgil who he runs into, but curled up on the windowsill, staring out into the night is Patton.

“Patton?” Janus asks, eyebrows furrowed, the moral side is wearing a onesie with cat ears and he looks both very tired and adorable. “What…has you up at this late hour?” He doesn’t hide the surprise in his tone, moving closer to the other, almost ready to tell him to go to bed; Logan and Virgil might cope with atrocious sleep schedules, but Patton requires balance and rhythm. He needs repetition to feel secure, and is not adjusted to change in any way, shape or form.

“I couldn’t sleep, my head is…too loud,” Patton doesn’t meet Janus’ eyes, but in the low light of the moon and the corner lamp, the lying side can tell in seconds that he’d been crying. He understands that feeling too, and sighs, holding out his hand.

“Come,” He instructs, the moral side looks surprised, but doesn’t kick up a fight, taking the other’s hand. “I’ll take your mind off it,” He grabs a coat off the rack and hands it to the other man; Patton gives a confused smile and does as he’s told, being led out the front door. The outside world surrounding their mansion of a home is mostly fields and the like, trees and forests, and hills, all the things that make Roman and Remus feel a little more like themselves. It isn’t a scenery that will be argued, as it is almost picturesque.

Janus opens the garage door, rolling up the shutter to reveal a car, something Patton had known they owned but had never had the urge to be in, until now. He gets in the passenger seat and does not speak. Janus turns on the car, and the radio, and then he drives. Patton doesn’t know how long they drove for, he fell asleep somewhere along the line, and woke up halfway up the stairs as he was carried to his bed.

He sleeps then, until the next morning.

Patton doesn’t mention it to Janus, but he does say thank you quietly, before starting on breakfast. The two say nothing more on the matter, even though they consider it separately in silence.

--

IV: Janus is Not Patton, Part 2. 

“Patton’s not feeling well,” Roman informs the deceitful side one evening “Can you make dinner?” Logan looks up from the book in his hands, as though just a little disappointed. Much like Janus, he had initially thought it to be pointless to eat when they don’t need to functionally eat, however Patton’s meals became just as much of a guilty pleasure as cups of coffee, or sleep, and just because you don’t need something in a literal sense, doesn’t mean it does not have benefits.

So, he too, is a little disappointed that he’s not having Patton’s Sunday dinner tonight.

“Of course, I’ll just become your secondary maid because you don’t know how to turn an oven on,” Janus replies, but his tone is teasing and when he cracks the slightest smile, Roman relaxes. “I do wonder if you look after yourself at all, Roman,” He moves, his fingertips drumming against the counter as he looks around the kitchen “Sunday dinner then?”

“Usually that is what one eats on a Sunday,” Logan mutters, voice quiet, but almost verging on humorous. Roman laughs, and the elder nods in agreement almost sarcastically, his one human eyebrow raising, before he sets about making dinner. It feels strange, cooking for them all, not quite as strange as knowing that Patton had taught him how to cook before Roman and Logan. He knows that Logan, at least, is probably a fairly good cook, but their roles extend beyond just their functions.

Which means Patton had, to some extent, accidentally made him second in command

(It hadn’t been an accident at all).

After everyone else had eaten, the deceitful side knocks at Patton’s door with a bowl of soup and a piece of chocolate cake. The other smiles at him, accepts the food with a hoarse voice and thanks him for looking after the others. “I know it’s hard sometimes,” Patton mutters “Roman especially sometimes needs more care than you would expect, but I suppose you got the harder end of the deal,”

Deceit shrugs, his smile tired “Remus is not hard to deal with once you know how to deal with him, the same way Virgil or Roman or even Logan are not hard to deal with once you understand how they work, actually I think I have a harder time understanding Logan,” It’s a joke, which sounds strange coming from his mouth, both to himself and too Patton.

“Thank you,” Patton says.

“You’re welcome,” he doesn’t know what he’s being thanked for, but he also doesn’t really care.

--

V: Everybody has a Hobby. Even The Bad Guys.

Logan has a habit of drinking in the evening, it’s not a problem and it doesn’t affect him in the slightest as he can quite literally control whether or not he gets drunk. Plus, he’s a very slow drinker. He sits on the couch, book in his lap and his feet up with a glass of whiskey and elderflower on the coffee table. Across from him, on the other couch, is Patton, undertaking a crochet scarf with silent mutterings of how hard such a task actually is. Logan glances up every now and then with some semblance of fondness.

A glass of wine is placed in front of Patton, and the other mutters a thanks without looking up, trying to untangle knots that shouldn’t be there, before gloved hands are placed over his “May I?” The moral side looks up, a light blush over his freckled cheeks before he hands the half-made scarf to Janus, who sits beside him. “You just have to keep your hands a little steadier,” The other explains, unknotting the tangled threads with ease, he examines it to see where Patton has gone wrong, before he starts to explain. Patton stares at him, half listening, but mostly enthralled in the way the other speaks, the look on his face, the flush to his cheeks as he shares something he likes with another person, perhaps truly for the first time in his life.

Logan glances over the top of his book, watching as Janus meets Patton’s eyes and stutters, before he rolls his own eyes. Feelings, he thinks to himself, an internal laugh sounding silently in his own mind. He’s getting used to such things surrounding him, but mostly he is happy for there to be stability, a sense of peace that comes with the two halves of morality working together.

Still, he averts his eyes back to his book, feeling somewhat like he’s intruding on something he can’t quite understand.

--

VI: Snow Day

A low squeal fills the air as the two halves of creativity dash outside into an unusual weather pattern. Snow, in August. Janus supposes Roman or Remus must have wishes really hard, which is generally how these things happen in the mindscape. Logan tuts, narrowly avoiding getting coffee spilled all over him as Remus runs past him to get outside. Patton snorts as he grabs his gloves and hat and coat, pausing to look back at Janus, who is halfway through making his own coffee.

At the gaze fixated on him, he sighs, and places the mug down, drifting past the moral side to get his coat. Patton beams happily, handing the snake-skinned side a warmer hat than the bowler he usually wears, grinning as the other’s hair sticks up in every direction in the transition from one to another.

The air is cold outside, and Remus is hurling snowballs at Roman, for a moment they really do seem like brothers, dodging around each other in the snow. Patton and Janus remember simpler days, when the two were really halves of a person, before Roman learned what an ego was, and Remus learned how to bring death. This is the one time they only really have each other, because Virgil and Logan are not making habits out of snowball fights, and Janus and Patton are more on the ‘stand and watch’ front personally. It’s the one time that they both seem normal and human.

Janus, grinning with mischief, rolls up a snowball out of the soft snow. “Don’t even think about it,” Patton squeaks, minutes before he’s wiping the snow off his face. Usually they’re prone to spectating, making sure the brothers don’t kill each other for a few seconds at a time. But soon they’re both hurling snowballs at each other, tripping up over the muddy white to see who ends up shivering the most.

Patton trips over his own feet, slipping on an icy patch, he grabs hold of Janus with every intention to shove him down first. But the deceitful side simply loses balance and finds his face buried in Patton’s chest, breathing heavily and giggling as the snow seeps through their clothes. Janus isn’t sure he’d ever been so close to another person, as he leans up and sees Patton’s flushed cheeks, the cold stinging his eyes but his body so very warm. He knows the smile on his own face must be softer than intended, because when the moral side opens his eyes, the smile slips a little as though he’s surprised.

Janus moves quickly then, pushing himself up and away from Patton, holding out a hand to help the other to his feet.

For the rest of that day he just replays that moment in his head, the look on the other’s face, eyes widening and lips holding a ghost of a smile, like he’d been struck by something he’d never thought of.

--

VII: Hot Day

It is so hot today, and nobody knows why, it’s not even this hot in the actual real world, but it’s sweltering in the mindscape. Roman was wearing shorts, Virgil had given up on his hoodie and Logan’s tie is dangling around his neck, the first four buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, a look that is apparently attracting Remus’ attention as he pesters the logical side with flirts that are unlikely to get returned.

Patton’s hair is curling a little as he tries to make lunch. Janus chuckles a little at the flustered expression, red cheeks and an inability to handle the warmth. He makes his way over and offers to take some of the workload, as Patton leans against the counter, tilting his head back with his eyes closed, clearly boiling in his thick polo shirt. The snakeskin side finishes off lunch, his black shirtsleeves rolled up as he places the plates down, watching the other sides move lethargically to get something to eat.

“Thanks,” Patton mutters.

“Of course,” Janus replies, biting into a cheese and tomato toastie, offering the other half to the other man as they lean against the kitchen counter, listening to the twins fight whilst Logan tries to read.

He does the dishes, whilst Patton leans his head on the counter, muttering that he has a headache. Janus does not think as he pauses scrubbing plates to grab some paracetamol out of the cupboard. He doesn’t wait for a thank you, he barely even realises he did it; he doesn’t know when he started acting as in tune with Patton’s feelings, and neither does the moral facet, who takes the paracetamol without even thinking. When that rhythm had started, bouncing around each other’s needs, neither of them can pinpoint, but it has Virgil and Roman raising their eyebrows and looking between each other.

“They’re basically married,” Roman uttered, with a snort that doesn’t hide his worried expression.

“Well, that’s their business,” Virgil replies, looking slightly uncomfortable with the idea of prying. He trusts Patton to make good decisions, and that’s all he wants to know about this situation, so he makes himself scarce in his own room. Nobody mentions it again, consciously making a decision that it simply isn’t their job to pry, even Remus, who is the king of making people uncomfortable, doesn’t mention the closeness between the two of them. Not particularly because he cares, but mainly because pissing off Janus, the only person who has managed somewhat to be kind to him, is not high on his to-do list.

--

VIII: Take a Hug Until You Smile (Or Sleep)

At 3am one morning, Janus stirs awake to a gentle knock at his door. He rubs his eyes, switching on the lamplight and wincing at the brightness of the room, before making his way to the cracked yellow door, turning the handle so that it opens. “Sorry,” Patton mutters, stood on the other side and looking far too small and far too cold. “I couldn’t sleep”.

“Come on in Patton,” The way he says his name sounds calm, the calmest that Patton has felt all evening as he twists and turns in his bed. His skin aches, and he reaches out to rest his hand on the exposed scales of Deceit’s left arm. They’re cool under his touch, and thankfully the younger of the two understands as he brings the moral side into his arms. He isn’t sure why the other didn’t go to Virgil or Roman for the matter, but he doesn’t interrogate him on the matter.

In truth, Patton doesn’t really know either, he’d just found himself here, longing more than anything to be in his newest friend’s arms. He rests his head on Janus’ chest, listening to the slow thud of his heart. And then he does know, he wonders how he never knew really, as that quiet heartbeat forces him to close his eyes, as the rhythmic warmth bundles up his senses and he knows.

The two end up lying down together, Patton tucked up under blankets and Janus’ arms, they don’t acknowledge the feeling that surrounds them both, not yet, the realisation is still settling in. But content, and knowing the truth for the first time, Patton falls asleep to the sound of blood pumping like a metronome, wondering how he’d ever slept any other way in his life.

--

IX: How To Make Pancakes And Lovers.

At 6AM two days later, Janus is trying to make pancakes when Patton comes downstairs. The younger says “Good morning,” but only gets the pan taken gently away from him. He tries to ask what’s wrong, if anything at all, but Patton smiles at him and all that worry ceases, leaving him staring at the other. At his wide eyes, at his smile, at the knowledge they both dance around.

Coherently, with no regret or fault, Janus thinks ‘I love you,’ and then he says it. Patton’s grin widens, and his hands find the other man’s. He repeats those words like an echo, brighter than he’d ever said them, before he’s claiming Janus’ lips in his own. Their hands grasp at each other with a fierce intensity, pressing forward but not forcefully, not in a rushed or hurried way. The younger’s gloved hands cup Patton’s face, holding him like he is holding something so precious, so dainty, like the petals of a flower.

Not for the first time, Logan and Roman get a bit of a surprise when they come downstairs to find the two trying to cook pancakes, but this time between giggles and kisses (And a lot of burned pancaked that got forgotten).

--

Ko-Fi

–

@analogical-mess // @unikornavenger // @mycatshuman // @creativity-killed-thekitten// @theresneverenoughfandoms // @charmingprincey // @heck-im-lost// @k9cat // @stilljittery // @romansleftshoulderpad // @sanderssideslibrary // @max-is-tired  // @demigodnamedathena // @sevencrashing // @jemthebookworm // @sandersandthesides // @penguinkool // @georganabanana // @ao-koshka // @dangerous-doodle // @hell-or-high-waters // @no-sleep-gang-posts //  @marshmallow-the-panda // @flix-net // @omni-hamiltrash // @an-absolute-failure // @mason-does-a-thing // @iceoblivious // @fandermom //

#ts spoilers #ts fic #mociet #janus sanders #patton sanders #moxceit

[the-gory-gardner]

Nightingale Part Six: Fragile

(The Meeting Between A Huntsman And A Lonesome Kitten One Year Ago)

Jonathan West x Katrina Evans

It took a moment for Jonathan to remember his suggestion to his little guest when he woke up. He probably only remembered so quickly because sometime during the night he’d turned over and draped his hand over the pillow divider. Waking up a bit more he realized that not only had he crossed the barrier he’d also rested his hand on Katrina’s head. 

He assumed she hadn’t woken up when he’d placed it there otherwise she would have woken up. Still as he processed his actions he couldn’t help but note how soft curls were. Then again everything about Katrina seemed soft and fragile. Jonathan moved his hand away carefully and he slowly scooted to the edge of the bed. He knew if it hadn’t been for the pillows he’d more than likely ended up holding the girl and he couldn’t imagine how startled that would have made her had she’d woken up first. 

Jonathan shook his head from the thoughts deciding he should get ready for the day. Though it’s not like there was much to do, still he grabbed some clothes from his drawers before heading to the bathroom. He took a quick shower that only lasted ten minutes before getting out and drying off. Once he was dressed he left the bathroom and headed back to his room just to peek in on Katrina. The small girl was still asleep and curled up in the blankets. Though at some point in the last ten minutes she’d taken one of the pillows from the barrier and pulled it to her chest. 

After watching her for a few more minutes, just to see if she’d wake up, Jonathan closed the door and headed off to the kitchen. He wouldn’t have much to do today except for some work on his blog. For now he could get started on breakfast since his stomach had began growing in the shower. As he looks inside his fridge debating what to cook again he thinks of how small Katrina is, how light, thin and just fragile she is. 

He decides that since she seemed better the night before that a big breakfast wouldn’t hurt. If it did he’d make her something else. So he pulls out eggs, hash browns, sausage links, bacon and a box of waffles. He’s not sure if Katrina can eat it all but hopefully she’ll eat what she can and that would be good enough for him. With all of the ingredients out he starts cooking deciding to make scrambled instead of fried, he cooks the sausage in the same pan as the bacon and throws the hash browns into the oven. 

Jonathan had just thrown two waffles into the toaster when Katrina comes off yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Morning”. Jonathan greets still a bit nervous at interacting with someone especially when he remembers the softness of her hair. “Good morning, are you making breakfast”? Katrina asked looking at the food he’d began to plate with only the waffles left to cook now. “Yeah I hope you don’t mind a big breakfast”. Jonathan answered before turning away from her slightly as the toaster dinging and the waffles popped out. 

“Not at all I usually don’t eat breakfast”. She’d admitted. It was true usually her parents rarely made breakfast and when they did it was never good. She could have eaten breakfast at school but usually she goes right to the music room to play for a bit until it times to get to class. “You should most important meal of the day and all”. Jonathan replies only half serious. He knows he skipped out on his share of breakfasts when he was young, mostly to avoid his dad if he was up that early and only if he didn’t think his mom might be in trouble. 

After a minute or two Jonathan finishes plating only needing to add the waffles now before setting the plates down. This time they sit at the kitchen counter to eat which already has a couple rather comfy stools set up. “Wow your a really good cook”. Katrina finds herself saying with a bit of chewed waffle in her mouth. The sight makes Jonathan snort loudly before thanking her. He’d learned some cooking from his mother but not a lot due to a usual lack of food since his dad spent the majority of their money on beer and gambling. 

“Really though I wish I could cook like this”. Katrina remarked. She’d loved to be able to make meals similar to when she was little before all her sisters had moved out. Before her parents had decided that they were done raising children even though one remained under their roof. She wondered if they were home yet, had they realized she was gone, realized she had come down from her room attempting to bond before being brushed off because they were busy with work. Had they realized that the house was painfully quiet without the light strumming of a violin filling it. 

“Katrina, Katrina”? She was startled at the sound of her name and looked up to see Jonathan looking at her with...concern? “Y-Yes”? She asked to let him know she’d heard him. “You zoned out a bit there you okay”? He questioned. “Yeah”. She said with a hesitate nod. “Just got a bit lost in my head is all”. She explained. “Okay if that’s all”. He stated like he didn’t fully believe but didn’t want to upset her. “But I said that maybe I could teach you a bit, probably not a lot but we have a few days until the roads clear up”. He told her. 

Katrina nodded with a strained smile. She was truly happy he offered to teach her to cook but there was an odd pang in her chest at the reminder that in a few days she’d be leaving. She shouldn’t miss the cabin or Jonathan she’d barely been here two days. But she couldn’t deny that two days here had felt warmer than almost two decades with her family. “Yeah I’d like that, might actually be tempted eat breakfast if I could make something half as decent as this”. She finally replied. 

“Oh trust me when you leave here your cooking will be more than decent”. Jonathan remarked. Katrina huffed a laugh before continuing eating. They don’t talk as they did the night before but the silence is comforting instead of awkward like it is with others. They find almost enjoyable and when they finish with their food Katrina insist on helping with the dishes. Jonathan tells her she doesn’t have to but she’s stubborn on the subject. 

Jonathan finds it a bit cute that the timid, shy and stuttering girl can be so stubborn. He wonders if she occasionally gets like this with others or if she’s just more relax here. He couldn’t imagine be relaxed so quickly after everything she’d went though. It made him feel slightly prideful that despite his lack of people skills he’d made her feel so safe so fast. 

After a few more minutes of his musings Jonathan and Katrina finish up the dishes before putting away what little leftovers there were. With that done they go to the living room with him telling Katrina she can chose something to watch. While she’s channel surfing he’d picked up his laptop debating if he wants to update his blog. When he finally opens it and logs in he sees that it’s still on the news website from yesterday. Still on the article on the ‘missing’ sex offender. 

Jonathan wonders if he should look at any updates. See if they’ve discovered the body, if there’s a chance police could be heading towards his cabin. If not if the back road is still covered in snow and too icy to travel than that means his truck has been found. If his truck hasn’t been found then the body might still be out there, stiff and covered in snow. He tells himself he shouldn’t worry that if the cops come he’ll tell the truth he attacked Katrina and Jonathan acted in self-defense. 

But even with the man’s obvious record the police would still ask for a statement and even though she’d be seen as a victim it would be hard for her. Jonathan can vaguely recall being questioned by the police while sitting numbly in the hospital numb and a bit doped up. He was seen as a victim from the start or at least as a scared boy but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard having to explain what happened that night and thinking any moment he’d break. 

He looked up from his computer to look at Katrina. She was sitting in the center of the couch now with her knees pulled up to her chest while she watched an cartoon on the TV. She was so small and his clothes only further showed that fact with how much they dwarfed her. He could almost picture her sitting curled up and meek in a hard plastic chair in a cold police station with two stone faced officer asking she questions as she explained what was possibly the worst day of her life. 

She’d break Jonathan was certain of it. 

And that, that was something he didn’t want. But how could he stop her from breaking. He knew she was fragile and no matter how much better she felt when she left she’d be hysteric if she had to talk to anyone about what happened. That’s when the idea came to him, it was crazy and very stupid but he just had this complete desire to help the small girl curled up on his couch. With a quiet sigh Jonathan went to an updated news page looking for any mention of the dead man. 

What he saw was nothing more than a simple mugshot that just stated the man was wanted. With a small nod Jonathan set up notifications to alert him if there were any updates on the news. If not Jonathan would go out and he’d make sure that the man couldn’t bother Katrina again, even in death. With a plan forming in his head he sat his computer down and walked over to Katrina. He gave her a small smile as he took a seat next to her. 

He was going to keep her safe no matter what. 

#Jonathan West #Katrina Evans #The Huntsman #Slashersona #Slasher OC #Slasher Sona #Jonathan West x Katrina Evans

[shaydeoffical]

Bright as a Diamond. Shinso Hitoshi x Fem Reader: Chapter Ten

Chapter Summary: Shouta is away fro business, and Shinso and (Y/n) are left alone for the day. In a brilliant idea, (Y/n) convinces Shinso to train to be able to pin him down. Things turn stressful when she gets another cryptic text...and...is that a picture of Shinso on her phone? No way.

Series Summary: When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Author Note: Please enjoy this, also long update lol. We are getting to the good stuff we have been waiting for, in this slow burn.    

Warnings: fihgting, blood, kidnnaping, violence

Last Chapter: Nine

Next Chapter: Eleven 

The Connect

  “HELP!!!” Hizashi screamed, shaking the house down with his quirk. I jumped from the bed, landing on my knees. While crossing the hall, I paused. Instead of running straight into the disaster zone, Hizashi's room, I began pounding on the purple-haired pro hero’s door. While it was hard to hear over the seismic waves cracking the foundation, I knew he couldn't just be asleep. Wiggling the handle, Shinso still didn’t answer but instead emerged from the bathroom in a towel.

  “I think it’s a bug.” I had my ears covered, use to this morning routine. Shinso had been staying over more recently since he started a cover job at a daycare to move in on his target. Though I didn't expect to see him in nothing but a towel. What heathen doesn't have a bathrobe when they stay over as much as he does.

  “Hold tight.” He covered his own ears, grabbing a newspaper and marching into Hizashi’s room. The screaming stopped, and I sighed in relief. Lowering my hands, there was a ringing in my ear, but I could still hear Shinso trying to pry Hizashi off his body.

  Taking a step, I felt my chest move. My eyes widened, and I ran back to my room to sling a bra on. While I was there, I fixed my hair into a ponytail and put slippers on. Of course, I trusted Shinso, but I wasn't that comfy to walk around like that. It was foolish to worry about my looks, but my mother was always so pushy about being decent.

Finally cleaned up, I shuffled into the hall, and Hizashi was still holding Shinso in thanks.

  “You’re so brave,” Hizashi clung to the purple-haired man’s leg, in his full hero suit. Hair slicked to the sky and a mic on his throat. It was a rare treat to see him all decked out.

  “If you stopped deafening all the bugs in this house, maybe they’d run off so you wouldn’t get trapped.” I rested my hand on my hip and leaned down. Shinso laughed, tiring to cover it with a cough. “You teaching today, Hizashi?”

  “Yea, I’m running late, actually.” Hizashi looked at his watch, then popped up from the floor. “You two are in charge today. Remember, Shota is in Housu for work, so it’s up to you two not to get into any trouble.”

  “Of course. Did you pack a lunch?” I dashed to the kitchen, both men following after me. Glancing at the clock, he could spare a few minutes for a meal.

  “No, I’ll figure-“

  “Oh, I can whip something up fast.” I cheered, wanting to return the favor. He was an excellent cook and mother hen. “You cook for me so often, it’s the least I can do.”

  “I’ll be fine, (Y/n), I really got to go.” He moved to grab his voice amp tool kit, and I got to work tossing ingredients together.

  “No, I insist, a sandwich and a bag of chips never took too long. I’m al-“ I shoved mayo and siracha in a bowl with some corn.  

  “He doesn’t want your cooking Kitten,” Shinso mumbled, sipping from an Eraser coffee. cup    

  “That’s so mean,” I nearly stopped working, but I kept tossing things together, adding mayo and ketchup. "You won't deter me, Lint Ball. We don't have room for jealousy in this house."    

  “Honey, I got to-“ I shoved the paper bag in Hizashi’s hand, fixing the zipper on his suit.

  “If it sucks, give it to the strays.” I scratched the back of my neck and gave him a quick kiss on the check. “Have a good day at work.”

  “Thank you." Hizashi pecked a kiss on my forehead. He opened the door then pointed from his eyes to Shinso’s. "Shinso, watch her for me.” Hizashi darted to his car, not bothering to tie his boots up.

  I turned to Shinso, who was now in a Deku shirt and some cotton shorts. “What did you mean no one wants my food?” I raised my brow and got into one of the sparing positions we had practiced last week.

  “It’s not mean, it’s just the truth.” Shinso walked right past me into the kitchen. “What? You’re not going to fight me.” He raised his brow, that damned smirk setting me off.

  “I- I’m going to my room.” I stomped my feet, making a show of my distaste. While I wanted to throw him to the ground, it was way too early in the morning. It definitely has nothing to do with how close we got yesterday while training.  

  Once locked away, I opened my window, and sure enough, Hisoka was resting in the flower bed. Tapping my fingers against the spot where his breath has tickled me, I froze. I had accepted Shinso wasn’t a full-on ass, but moments like this were where I wanted to wring his neck. I knew I was a terrible cook, but I was getting better, I had been practicing while home alone. There's no need to tell me what I know to be true. Everyone want's to be the best cook for their partner and friends. With a little more time, I'd be a prized host like Hizashi.  

  “Damn Lint Ball,” I huffed, raking my fingers through Hisoka’s fur. He couldn’t meow like he used too but had made an almost full recovery. That was the one thing I told mom about when I called last night. She didn’t want to talk for long, but she loved hearing about Hisoka, and my training with Sho.

  Hisoka ran off after a few more pets, bounding into the trees. The little rascal. If you could ignore the bald spots on his body, you'd never know he was so close to death.

Closing my window, I curled back in bed, my tummy growling. Shinso would be done eating soon, and then I could make my own meal. If he wanted to be cruel, he could do it without my company.

  “(Y/n), I’m sorry.” Shinso rasped on my door. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

"Go away," I mumbled, closing my eyes.

"I could have said it better; I know." He added. I could hear him rest against the door, the lock buckling.

  “It shouldn’t have come out at all,” I countered, sitting up and hugging my lemongrass and lavender pillow. The scent had mostly faded, but I still slept better with it.

  “I apologize. What can I do to make it up to you?” I opened the door and caught him off guard.

  “You can train me to pin you,” I kept a straight face as he just nodded. His eyes scanned me up and down, lingering on the pillow still tucked under my arm.

  “That’s a deal, Kitten.” He shook my hand, then held the back of his neck. “I went ahead and made breakfast for us. Will you please, join me?”

  “Of course,” I beamed, shimming around him. That might have been the first time he apologized for a dick move. So it was time to reward good behavior. Plus, after yesterday, I wanted things to work out. I hadn't been able to let loose since before high school. Being silly and extra reminded what being young was supposed to be like. Not hiding away your quirk or worrying about what bystanders think. Just the pursuit of safe and healthy fun.  

  He had prepared fresh rice, a few pieces of salmon, and a fruit trey. Hell, the strawberries were cut into little hearts. “Did you make this to show off you’re better than me?” I accused him, sitting in the middle like I was used too.

  “I just wanted to do something nice. I’m not always trying to tease you.” He fetched us each a glass of water. While he did that, I dished out my plate, trying to act like I wasn't so impressed with the spread. He had cooked for us as a family before, but this was the first time we didn’t eat separately when it was just the two of us.

  “Thank you then,” I kept my superior nature, and took a small bite. The texture was perfect, and the flavor was well rounded. Of course, it was nothing like an iron chef, but he did have skill in the kitchen. “Yes, this is quite adequate.”  

  He choked on his bite and chugged his water. “Just adequate?”

  “It’s delicious Hitoshi, I’m just jerking your chain.” We both giggled, but I froze up.

Chains’. Rattling. Bruised wrists. Swollen ankles. Hitoshi- He was holding my hand across the table. Callused fingers smoothing over my skin, his grip tight. He was strong. Hitoshi was a hero. I was safe with him.

  “Sorry, I just-“ I swallowed the lump in my throat, gripping his hand tighter. "Yea, it's a great meal." Dipping my head, I focused on the music notes on the table cloth.

  “Don’t apologize.” When he removed his hand, I noticed I had made an amethyst. The purple stone had rolled from my palm, resting on the center of the table. He didn’t make a move to touch it, instead, acting as if he didn't see it.

  Horrified, I grasped the gem and squished it in my hand, running the dust to the trash can. “It’s like a laying a golden egg. You never know what to expect from the goose. That doesn’t make sense. Whatever, I just- I totally intended…on not making that.” I acknowledged it, breaking the silence.

  “Is that where all that dust in your room comes from?” Shinso went back to eating like nothing odd had transpired. However, his tone was softer, not quite pity, but enough that I could notice he was feeling out the tension.

  “Hitoshi, my room is not dusty,” I crossed my arms, plopping back down. There was no reason for staying upset, it was over now. The food was getting cold.

  “No. The jars of sand or dust,” he clarified, handing me another piece of fish.

  “Oh, I make a few gems every morning to stay on my game, then I crush them. It feels wrong to just toss them out all the time. No one was supposed to know about that, but I trust you, Lint Ball.” I took a large bite, “now tell me why you were in my room?”

  “No reason.” He calmed up, sipping his water.

  “Liar,” I slammed my water back and quickly finished my meal. “Didn't think I'd be so preceptive? Alright, I’ll let it go for now. But you have to tell me once I pin you down.”

  “Why do you want to pin me so badly?” The impish grin on his face was almost cute. He was about to have a world of hurt.

  “I wanna show you how humiliating it is to be pinned every other breath. I intend to use this knowledge to my full benefit. So prepare for ambushes.” I took my dish to the sink, putting away the leftovers.

  “If you tell me about an ambush, it’s no longer an ambush.” He grinned, finishing off his meal. “Alright, let’s get started.” He put his plates in the sink and knocked his hip into mine. Scouting over, he took over dished. "Go get changed."

  “I’m actually excited about this,” I scurried to my room. I pulled on some capris and an oversized pink tee. It was chilly outside, so I put a long sleeve shirt under it.

  Shinso changed into a black long sleeve shirt and some cargo pants. Somehow he managed to finish the dishes and still changed faster than me. He was waiting by the door, his shoes on already, and he had my shoes pulled out and ready.

Once outside, we squared up in the garden. Before that, I stopped to watch Hisoka bath in the sun, rolling in the grass and pawing at the leaves around him. Shinso took a pic on his phone and then sat it to the side so we could get started.

  “First things first, always be aware of how your body is lined up with mine.” He paused, examining my stance. “Spread your legs a little wider, and put your left leg forward.” He walked around me, resting his hand on my stomach. “Feel the tension in your stomach; you want to use that energy. When you come at me, grab my waist and wrap your legs behind my knees, using your body to take me down.”

  “Um okay,” I nodded, trying to think about how that would work. His hand was so warm on my stomach, the energy doubling there. I wondered about how, with one touch, I could feel more powerful. Shinso was back in position across from me. Bouncing on my heels, I waited for him to strike at me. When he didn't move, I grabbed his waist and just slammed him to the ground. Sitting on his chest, I hovered around his chest.

  “That’s not quite right, but we can work on it.” Shinso tapped my leg. “Bring this up onto my stomach, and bring your other leg out for balance.”

  “Won’t that hurt?” I asked, adjusting myself to barely apply pressure to him.    

  “You want to pin me, right?” he reminded me. “Now, grab both sides of my shirt while crossing your arms.” He was entirely under me now, and when I applied pressure on his shirt, it choked him.

  “Hitoshi, that’s scary.” I let him go and leaned back, trying to find a place to put my hands that wasn't his torso. “Despite popular belief, I don’t want to strangle you.”

  “You need to practice, now you’ve left yourself venerable.” He smirked, gripping my knee, pinning me with a quick flip.

  “Snap.” I gasped, his pelvis was right on mine, my knees in the air on either side of him, his arms around my throat applying zero pressure. "Toshi." I pouted, trying to squirm free.

  “Let's try again.” He grinned, giving me instructions on how to get out of my predicament.

When that done, we moved on. This time Shinso had me sit behind him, and get my legs under his, and put a seatbelt around his chest. It was so toned and tight. Of course, I had fought off every urge to ogle him this morning, but the mystery was killing me.

  “Try applying pressure to my throat.” I did for a few seconds till he made a small noise of discomfort. “Good. Here’s the counter.”

  He pulled my thumb, and I let loose. The leaves helped him slide away from me, then got behind me, locking his arms and legs around mine, balancing me while on his back.  

  “Holy crap,” I laughed, unable to fight against the hold. Then my calf contorted in pain. “Cramp cramp cramp cramp.” He let go, and I jumped up, walking it out. “Shit. Fuck fuck, fuck.” I cursed, limping around in a circle.

  “Hold still,” he stopped me, and bent down to my calf and started to rub the muscle.

  “That hurts,” I collapsed down, his motions stopping long enough for me to stretch out. Rubbing my temple, I twisted my ankle, trying to ease the charlie horse.

  “It’s going to feel better in a few minutes, Kitten.” Hitoshi purred, working his fingers deep into my tissue. “Are you drinking plenty of water.”

  “Probably not. Besides, the USJ was a rough work out.” I wheezed through the throbs of pain. “Hey, it's easing up a bit.”

  “You should listen to me more often.” He hummed, kneading his hands up my thigh, caressing the entire area. His rough fingers were magic tools, ebbing the pain away. My head lulled back, resting it under my arm. Even when the cramp released, I kept quiet. I loved being doted on, and this was so nice.

  I nearly swooned when he started to work on my other leg, but I didn’t say anything. It was healthy, two young people sitting in the leaves sharing a massage… yea, this was fine. Friends did this. Shinso probably knew my other leg was on the verge of cramping, and it was okay. He owed me a few acts of servitude or some shit. I just want the ball of energy in my stomach to relax. This was so nice and normal...

My phone buzzed by my water bottle, and I grasped it, turning on the screen. Thankfully we laned by our stuff, but it wasn't a good message. It was another cryptic picture, a knife resting in an apple, and the letter o. Then another image came, and I froze.

  It was a purple blob... Shinso’s hair. Another picture, it was my thigh, a hand resting on my knee. Next came a pic of me looking at my phone. “Hitoshi…” I handed him my phone, sitting up and scooting closer. I held onto his shirt, trying not to shiver. “What, what do we do?” I whispered, clutching his arm.

  “We go inside.” He stood, both us raising at the same time, his arm locked around my waist. He looked around, keeping me tight to him. We were out in the open and there was no safe side.“When I say run, do it.”

  “Where?” I asked, gripping even harder. My legs felt better, but I was still shaking.

  “Go to the bathroom and lock yourself in. Call Aizawa.” He kept glancing around, then he stopped, narrowing in on the trees by the pond “Now.”

  “Now?” We were just fifty feet from the door, but I couldn’t let go.

  “Yes.” Hitoshi nudged me forward. I froze, looking at him for guidance. "I'll be okay." He assured me. With a deep breath, I sprinted towards the door. All hell broke loose. A few masked people jumped out, and Hitoshi didn't have his scarf. He was in trouble. There were even people near the house.

  I made inside before the creeps could move to block the door. I locked the bolt before anyone could grasp it, and I could feel the handle jiggle. The plan was out the door, and I grabbed Hitoshi’s scarf, peeking outside the window.

  A man popped up and busted through the glass. Switching gears I went to the front door again. Busting it open, the man met me at the threshold, and I slammed hot coal into his face before he registered what happened. Stomping his foot, I broke free running to Shinso.

  “Hitoshi!” His eyes bugged out of his head, I tossed the scarf. He caught it, quickly gaining the upper hand. Relief washed over me, but it was too soon.

  “Got her!” The man I burned, wrapped his arms around me. I stomped his foot again and held coal to his crotch till he dropped.

  Stumbling forward, I ran towards the forest like in practice. “Kitten, wait-“ A basket wove around me and tightened like a Chinese finger trap. I rolled a few times and started to burn my way through fast as possible.

  A man in a black trench coat hovered over me. “Are you sure this is the right girl? She’s making coals.”

  “That’s her boss,” more goons had appeared, and Shinso was swamped with seven different opponents. “The boss said she’s had two quirks, and not to be fooled.”

  “Your Tusuki’s daughter, right child?” The man knew my father’s name, and I knew they meant business. I could hear Shinso struggling behind me, and I just closed my eyes.

  “Please leave him alone. I’ll go with you- “ I was kicked in the stomach. Spitting up, I lost my breath.

  “I said, are you his daughter?” The man wove a trap around my throat, and it got tighter and tighter as I fought it.

  “I-“ What was I supposed to say. I could deny it and be killed outright or be hurt worse. Shinso hadn’t used my name aloud. There was room to- the trap cut off my air, and I shrank in agony. Black spots tugging at my vision. “Yes.” The binding loosened, but it wasn’t enough to breath easy,

  “Wrap her up.” The 'boss' of this group walked away, two goons grabbing my cocoon. They referred to another boss, but this was my problem at the moment.

  “Stop it.” I kept burning the basket with my coals, but the wooden strips kept reforming and wrapping around my hands. “Hitoshi. Hitoshi run!” I begged. The neck wrap closed up, and I gagged on my own saliva. Hitoshi had all but one man down. Damn it. He was so close… he had a chance to run.

 “Daddy, I didn’t mean for them to take me.” I cried into his chest, both of us chained to the wall. They had taken him from the hospital the week before, and now they had me.

  “It’s okay, baby. What do they know?” He nuzzled my neck, his entire body bruised, deflated, and cut from producing so many gems. Even holding me was straining his body.

  “They know, most of it.” I cried. “They said’ they’d kill my friend.”

  “Sometimes, you have to give in to the captors…I wish I had taught you more, sweetie.” He cried small lapis tears.

  “Daddy, I was trained as a hero, and yet I didn’t stand a chance. I don’t know what to do. Should I have fought them?”  

  “No. We just need to survive long enough to go home.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ll get home.”    

  Daddy. He died in that cell, right next to me. Because he didn’t have the strength to survive…I need to keep fighting. I can’t make this easy. Even if I’m passing out, I can still bite. Chomping down on a goons wrist, he screamed, dropping me. The other man lost his grip, and once I was down, I started to roll.

  “Get her.” The boss yelled, but I keep going, with no end in sight. There were no breaks or control, just pure momentum. It was then I noticed the small ledge a few ahead. The binding was getting tight, but I could still shift, but I couldn't stop myself from being air born. If I survived the fall, I'd be lucky to keep my head from busting on a rock.

  “Kitten,” the velvet voice of a hero. A tight scarf wrapping around my ankles. The whirling bouncing motion stopped. Jerked back, I slide a small way forward again, finally still. While I got my bearings, Hitoshi had knocked out both goons. He kneeled beside me, pulling at the brace on my throat—his finger wedging between the tight wood and my skin—desperately clawing at the fibers.  

  “Not so fast. In less you want to watch her be decapitated, you’ll listen.” The boss had the weave move up and over my lips and nose. Then he had a wrap slither around Hitoshi.  

  “Alright, just tell me what you want with her?” Shinso relaxed, stepping back from me. Toshi's binds were still growing around him, but he’d be immobile. He gave me a reassuring nod, and I tried to hid how much I was smothering.

  “Nice try, you think-“ The boss dazed over.

  “Release your quirk.” Hitoshi spat, and the boss did as told. Hitoshi’s bind was first released, then the one of my throat and finally my body.

  “Thank God.” I gasped, undoing the scarf at my feet, rubbing my throat, taking deep breaths. Assessing myself, I kicked the wood away and rubbed my eyes. A twig snapped in the brush. Booking my ass next to Hitoshi, I got to my feet and hid behind him. I peered at the boss over his shoulder; he was glazed over and just standing still. His finger would twitch every now and then, but this was the power of Shinso's quirk.

  “Tell me who sent you.” Hitoshi examined my neck, running his fingers up and down my throat. Keeping his quirk activated and interrogating the man was easy as breathing to him. How he was able to think about my injuries and stay in control was so cool.

  “We were contracted. I don’t know their name.” The man answered.

  “Who all knows of this location?” Hitoshi pushed my disheveled hair out of my face and wiped the dirt from my forehead. My skin had swollen around where the band had been, so he was gentle when cleaning that area.

  “Only my group.” The man’s hand twitched with more force. I gripped Hitoshi’s shirt, and he nodded it was okay.

  “Why didn’t you tell your employer. What was your goal?” Hitoshi grabbed his scarf and began to tie the man. I missed his warmth, the soothing smell that so familiar and yet far away.  

  “I realized the target was the daughter of one of my past projects. Tsuki (L/N), he was able to make precious gemstones. The cilent said she could make diamonds. She was worth more than the money from the job.”

  “I see. How many men did you bring with you?” Hitoshi finished his knot and pushed his hair back.

  “Nine.”

  “Hitoshi.” I jumped in front of him, a smoke bomb bursting on my chest. I curled around it, trying to mask the fog and keep Hitoshi’s vision clear. The heat building under me was unbearable, but it wasn't hurting me. My body was used to hot coals, I just need to focus on something else till this bomb simmer down. Changing gears thought about how my toes were sore and coming to life after being upside down. The sweat pouring down my neck. How hard it was to breathe in the fruity mist.  

  “Show yourself,” Shinso commanded, standing over top of my body. Another smoke bomb was launched. I created a coal tossing it, displacing the bomb in the air, sending it back into the forest. “Nice aim, Kitten.”

  “Only the best,” I wheezed the burning under me finally over. “Nine o’clock.”

  “You mean three,” a man emerged, he was dressed much more… well covered less than his comrades. Smoke was emitting from his body. “So you can brainwash your opponent’s once they answer a question. And you can make pretty little diamonds, and now I see coals. Wow, what a perfect little swan, just waiting to be scooped up by a stern master.”

  “What’s your name?” Shinso asked but was met with radio silence. “You clearly know a bit about our power, care to share what yours is?” Shinso spread his legs, and I crawled from under him. There was a small burst of fog, but nothing too thick.

  “All you villains thinking I’m just a sitting duck.” I wiped the blood from my lip. “But we already took down your boss and your friends. What makes you so special.” I crouched on one knee, one hand to the earth. Focusing.

  “What makes you think he was the ring leader.” The nearly nude man’s butt jiggled as he saluted me. He went on and on about his history as a villain, and I pushed a string of ruby under the earth. There was no reason it would or wouldn’t work, but I had this numb feeling in my hand that said it just might.    

  “Are you going to on all day?” Hitoshi’s scarf was tied up at the moment, and he vulnerable. We both were.

  There. I found where his foot was, and I shot the gem up in a corkscrew, pushing it around and through his calf. “What the hell,” the man screamed, his hand tossing bombs at us. I stopped my gem trap halfway up. Yet I failed to deflect the smoke that fell over us.

  The air quality dropped. “Hitoshi?” I couldn’t see him. “Hitoshi.” I leaned down and breathed through my shirt. There was a shattering snap. Then a shadow looming through the fog. The man reared his foot back and kicked my stomach. Still, I could see his other leg was bleeding and noticeably stiff.

  An emerald rod shot from my wrist, and I caught it. I used the weighted log and smacked it across the man’s face. He stumbled back but pushed more smoke in the area. My vision clouded I was filtering the air with my shirt again, just trying to get my bearings.

  “Kitten?” Hitoshi was coughing in the distance. How'd he get so far away?

  “Here- shit,” I dodged a kick and rolled deeper into the fog.

  “Where are you kids?” Hizashi was home. "BABIES?" Hizashi knew not to use out names, but it was already too late for that.

  “Over here,” I hollered, attracting the villain to my position. This time he kicked my chest, his foot digging into my breast. A gurgled scream left me, and I was putty long enough for him to grab my collar.

  “Heavy bitch.” He groaned, buckling under my weight, trying to get me to my feet.

  “Ass less chaps went out of style years ago,” I murmured, pressing my palm to his butt check, shoving a gem through the muscle and into the earth. He dropped me, but I put my hands down and forced a ruby cork and a sapphire out the other, sewing it in and out of the man’s legs. He screeched at the top of his lungs, shoving more smoke down my throat. Pulling my hair and clawing at my eyes, but I avoided most of his hits.

  “ROCK ON!” Mic’s voice washed out the fog. I covered my ears and rolled away with the airflow. Once his quirk stopped, I got up and saw Hitoshi and Hizashi jogging my way.

  “I did it,” I said, pointing to my jewels holding the man down in pain. “I-“ black spots flooded my vision, and I waivered, stumbling over my feet. “I went plus ultra.” My headache was building; I had survived with a little help.

#shinso #Shinsou #shinso x reader #erasermic #eraser family #tw #x reader #enemy to friends to lovers #spar #growth #my hero acadamy #bnha x reader

[ohemgeeitscoley]

The one I have been waiting for (Part Two of Two)

Ben Solo is the recently assigned editor for Rey Johnson’s book about star-crossed lovers in space when the world is turned upside down and stay home orders are issued. Ben and Rey begin working together over Zoom and their relationship grows.

Or, an and they were zoomates fic.

Based on this Tumblr post.

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Rey/Ben Solo (Reylo)

Chapter One

Note: And here’s the rest! I hope you guys enjoy this. I had a ton of fun writing it and playing with these characters and this situation.

@andyouweremine​ is 100% to blame for the last Zoom scene, which was not a part of the plan and she talked me into it after I told her the story was done. You know. Like the best kind of friend.

Read below or on AO3.

Rey Johnson: Hi Ben, I was wondering if you are busy?

Rey Johnson: This has nothing to do with the book or my writing. I've actually written a ton. Talking to you really helped yesterday.

Rey Johnson: I was going to try to come up with some excuse to start talking to you. But honestly I'm just lonely. All of my friends have someone else that they are quarantined with so I feel like I might be bothering them at this point. And I really hate to be that person, but I just was hoping we could talk about something?

Rey Johnson: oh god okay you haven't said anything and I'm really sorry if this was inappropriate please let's pretend this conversation never happened.

Ben: I'd love to just talk.

Ben: You waited less than a minute before trying to revoke that offer, by the way.

Ben: I think it takes my brain longer than that to even think of a response let alone type one.

Rey Johnson: You seem to be doing just fine now 😜

Rey Johnson: And thank you. I didn't realize how much I needed human contact before all of this.

Ben: I understand. 

Rey Johnson: So, I'm ordering groceries to be delivered and they have a limit on cup of noodles now? And does it make me a bad person if I order the maximum quantity at different stores?

Rey Johnson: That sounds bad. I'm not a bad person I swear. I just, I really never learned to cook growing up and it hasn't been a priority in my adult life.

Rey Johnson: Don't hate me. I swear I'm not the kind of person who would buy more than I need in a pandemic.

Ben: I don't think that makes you a bad person. I am, however, very concerned that ramen is the primary component to your daily nutrition. 

Rey Johnson: I'm not a total animal. I mix in veggies and occasionally I'll even add in real meat. 

Ben: I could send you recipes? Easy ones. My mom is demanding my family attend these weekly virtual dinner parties. 

Ben: And one of her requirements is that we all make the same meal. So, she's been bombarding my uncles and me with easy recipes. 

Ben: Plus this way if you need help, I can help you. 

Rey Johnson: I would love that. Send them over. 

Rey Johnson: Thanks Ben. 

----

Ben hadn’t expected Rey’s accent. If he was being entirely honest with himself, Ben hadn’t expected Rey to be anything like she was.

Her laugh was light and had to be earned, which he appreciated. Her hazel eyes seemed to brighten when she was arguing with him about Kira and Kylo’s connection and, especially, when she bit down on her lip to stop herself from interrupting him. He wondered how much of her personality was lost to a screen and what it would be like to see her in person.

She was beautiful.

Not that he should necessarily be having these kinds of thoughts about her.  He had read through the entire HR policy handbook the night after their first video call and it wasn’t explicitly forbidden for writers and editors to see each other. The policy just required full disclosure at the start of a relationship.

He also recognized that two video calls and a few messages was hardly enough to warrant such research. There was a more than very real chance that Rey would want absolutely nothing to do with him socially. She wouldn’t be the first.

He glanced down at his phone, and the messages from Rey, and smiled. 

But he hoped that maybe she would.

Ben went to his computer, pulling up his work email and searching for the messages between Leia, Luke and Chewie. He was only able to find the first thread, which only had one recipe that was decidedly not an easy one to follow. What had followed Leia’s first message was around thirty replies between the three of them about how Leia couldn’t expect either Luke or Chewie to know how to cook beef wellington on a few days’ notice.

To be fair, Ben was a fairly decent cook, and he wasn’t entirely sure he could pull off beef wellington.

He had been so sure though that his mom had said she was going to send other recipes for them to choose from. He can almost clearly see something about how she’d send over a recipe for mac and cheese if they’d just calm down about it.

But looking through his email now, he can’t actually find any of those recipes.

---

Ben: Hey mom. I was planning on making my grocery delivery order soon and I can’t find any of the recipes you sent over? 

Mom: Your uncles haven’t picked a final recipe yet. I believe they are currently still lobbying that we all just buy the same Hamburger Helper meal kit and call it a day. I have sent dozens of recipes to choose from and this is what they are stuck on.

Mom: I think even Luke can manage to make tacos.

Ben: What recipes? I can only find the beef wellington recipe.

Ben: Which, really?

Mom: What else are they doing while staying at home? They both have plenty of time to learn to cook one recipe.

Ben: Luke works from home outside of the stay home order. So, I would imagine he has just as much time as before.

Mom: Are you really defending your uncle to me right now Benjamin?

Ben: So, where are those other recipes? I can’t find them.

Mom: I removed you from the email chain. I know you get sick of hearing us all bicker. I figured I’d just send you the final recipe once we get a consensus. 

Ben: Oh. Could you send them to me anyways?

Mom: They are basic recipes Ben. For things like tacos and spaghetti. You could write better recipes than what I am sending out.

Ben: Still. I should have them.

Mom: Why?

Ben: Why can’t you just send them to me?

Mom: If you are looking for easy recipes Ben, you know how to perform an internet search. I’ve seen you do it.

Ben: You are being impossible.

Mom: I’ll send them. 

Ben: Thank you.

Mom: If you tell me why you want them.

Ben: This is ridiculous. I’ll just “perform an internet search.” Thanks Mom.

Mom: Oh come on Ben. Something is up. You wouldn’t be acting so weird if there wasn’t a reason you want these recipes.

Ben: Fine.

Ben: I’ve been talking to Rey Johnson.

Mom: Oh really? How is her book coming along?

Ben: Great. Really great actually.

Mom: Does she need recipe ideas for her book?

Ben: What? No. 

Ben: We’ve been talking about non work related things and she mentioned not knowing how to cook.

Ben: So, I figured I’d send over some of the easier recipes I assumed you’d been sending Luke and Chewie.

Mom: You’ve been talking about non work related things?

Ben: Yes. Is that okay?

Mom: That’s more than okay.

Mom:  I could just send the recipes directly to her if you’d like.

Ben: I can send them to her.

Mom: It’s just as easy for me to do it Ben.

Ben: Mom.

Mom: Should I reach out to Amilyn for HR purposes?

Ben: You are impossible.

----

Ben: Dad. Can you please have mom forward me the recipes she’s been sending to Luke and Chewie. 

Ben: Without asking any questions.

Ben: I really would appreciate it.

Dad: Sure thing, kid.

----

“Hey, what’s up?” Ben asked as he answered the incoming video call on his cell phone from Rey.

He took in his messy hair, and the plain black t-shirt he was wearing, and realized that maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to answer. 

She looked amazing.

Her hair was up in three separate buns. The tank top that she was wearing was thin and he could see the outline of her black bra underneath the thin fabric. 

The image on his phone quickly shifted as she changed the camera view so that he was staring at a box of groceries on her doorstep.

Oh. 

“Ben. What is all of this?” Rey asked and he isn’t sure if she is amused or annoyed and he really wished that he could see her. 

“The ingredients to the recipes I’m about to send you.” Ben responded with a small shrug. “I wasn’t able to get them to you before you placed your grocery order. And I really couldn’t stomach you only eating ramen for the next week.”

“Ben,” Rey sighed, and suddenly she was back on his screen shaking her head. “You could have just sent the recipes and I could have made another order.”

“Sure,” Ben grinned. “Or I could have done just what I did.”

“At least let me pay you back.”

“No need,” Ben waved his hand in front of the screen. “Honestly, Rey.”

“I don’t even know what to do with half of these,” Rey admitted, holding up a bell pepper. “Am I going to blind myself if I accidently rub my eyes while cutting one of these?”

Ben laughed, running his hand through his hair while he shook his head. “Maybe let’s just start by putting everything away and deciding what we are making tonight.”

“We?” Rey asked, a small smile spreading on her face.

“If you want?” Ben offered, tapping a finger against his counter. “I figured we could make dinner together. I’m pretty sure I can walk you through all of these recipes.”

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

----

Ben: Is it okay if I text you about book things? Or would you prefer an email or a scheduled video call?

Rey Johnson: A scheduled video call? Ben. We literally stopped talking an hour ago.

Ben: I just want to make sure you are okay with it.

Rey Johnson: It’s fine. 

Rey Johnson: What’s up?

Ben: I read through what you sent this morning. And I wanted to point out that I noticed.

Rey Johnson: Noticed what?

Ben: That you haven’t finished the scene about whether or not Kira takes Kylo’s hand and are writing ambiguous future scenes that could work either way.

Rey Johnson: No idea what you are talking about. 😇

Ben: Sure you don’t.

Rey Johnson: New number. Who is this?

----

Rey stretched her legs down toward the end of her bed, switching the arm that is holding her phone up so she can stretch her arm out as well. She rolled to her side, setting her phone down on her nightstand, leaned up against the lamp.

“We already watched three episodes of Witcher today Ben,” Rey pointed out, stifling a yawn. “It’s my turn for show choices.”

“You don’t look like you’re going to be up much longer,” Ben pointed out.

“I’m fine,” Rey mumbled, fighting against the heaviness of her eyes. “You’re just saying that so you can get out of watching the next episode of Legacies.”

It had been the same conversation between the two of them, more or less, for the last few weeks. Rey mostly wrote in the mornings and she and Ben had a few early afternoon meetings a week on what she was working on and the progress she had made.

They argue about whether or not Kira is going to take Kylo's hand.

Outside of those meetings though, most of their conversations never returned to work. Which was something since they spent most of their days talking to one another.

In the evenings they made dinner together and talked about what they were going to do once the world finally opened back up. Ben was keeping a list of their ideas. Rey liked imagining that they would go through the list together. 

Neither of them ever brought it up, but Rey hoped that Ben imagined it too.

Ben caved on the binge watching two weeks after the stay home order was in place. Initially Rey had joked that he should try Tiger King or Too Hot to Handle. They downloaded the programs to sync their computers and watched the first episode of Too Hot to Handle together. Watching Ben’s face through the first ten minutes was worth all of her own feelings of embarrassment.

Ben’s ears did turn pink when he blushed. Something that Rey really wanted to see in person.

She was thankful for Ben. Without him she knew that her quarantine quality of life would have been severely diminished, but she wanted to actually see him.

“Hey Ben,” Rey started, squirming around in her bed until she was under her blanket. “When the stay home order finally gets lifted, I would… I really want to see you.”

“Of course,” Ben answered, and Rey grinned at how quickly he responded. “We have a list of things we are going to do.”

“Together.” Rey confirmed, closing her eyes. “A list of things to go do together.”

Ben telling her good night is the last thing Rey hears before falling asleep.

----

Dad: Your mom wants you to invite Rey to virtual dinner on Saturday.

Dad: I get the idea that she isn’t going to take no as an answer. 

Ben: Can you distract her long enough for me to change my phone number?

Dad: Just invite her, Ben. 

Ben: Okay. Fine.

----

Mom: I’d love for you to invite Rey to dinner on Saturday. Your uncles would like to meet her. 

Ben: Why would they want to meet her Mom? I haven’t talked about her with them.

Mom: I’ve talked to them.

Ben: Mom.

Mom: Your uncles decided on lasagna. I’ll send you the recipe.

Ben: I’ll ask her, but I’m not sure that she’ll want to attend.

Mom: I’m sure you can convince her. 😉

Ben: I’m never talking to you again.

----

"You got big plans this weekend?" Rey asked, teasing him. "Should I be jealous you have other people to hang out with. I thought you loved watching Legacies with me."

"I love spending time with you," Ben corrected, a slight blush coating his cheeks. "I could give or take Legacies." 

Rey laughed, her face wrinkling and her mouth open wide.

Ben smiled in return without thought. It was strange to him, how easy it was to smile when he talked with her.

"Actually," Ben started, reaching a hand up to scratch at his neck. "My mom invited you to Saturday dinner."

"Oh," Rey said, looking away from the screen. "Really?"

"Yes," Ben confirmed. "I would say no pressure, but my mom doesn't really take no for an answer."

Rey gave him a small, tight smile. "I would be honored to attend."

Ben sighed in relief. "We are making lasagna. I'll send you the recipe."

"I can't wait," Rey said. "Hopefully I won't do anything to embarrass you."

"Nothing," Ben promised, "Nothing you could do would be embarrassing."

"My family," he continued, shaking his head. "I apologize now. I would understand if you never talked to me again."

"Never," Rey responded immediately. "You're the only thing keeping me sane."

“I feel the same way.”

“You do?" Rey asked, her eyes slightly widening. “Here I was thinking you are just being nice.”

“I’m not nice,” Ben offered, shrugging his shoulders. “You can ask just about anyone that knows me. It’s not what I am known for.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

Ben doesn’t know what to say in response, glancing away from his phone. “So I’ll call you at two on Saturday? The dinner starts at six.”

“It’s a date,” Rey blushed, but smiled at him. “I can’t wait.”

----

New Group Chat Created

Ben: I talked with Rey and she will be there this Saturday.

Ben: Please, please, please, do not do or say anything that would embarrass me.

Ben: This means no baby pictures, mom.

Chewie: I’m hurt that you would think so little of me.

Uncle Luke: Honestly Ben. How little do you think of us?

Ben: Do you really want me to answer that?

Dad: No. 

Mom: But Benjamin, you were such a cute baby with those ears and your hair. 

Ben: Mom.

Dad: Leia.

Dad: Let the kid be.

Uncle Luke: There is that cute picture of him naked and playing in the sprinkler that I always thought was going to be a future hit.

Ben: I’m univitating her.

----

Rey threw another shirt onto the growing pile on her bed. She huffed, closing her eyes as she tried to imagine the perfect outfit to wear when attending a video dinner with her crushes entire family.

Her crush.

God, she felt like she was fifteen. 

Crush wasn’t even the right word to describe what she felt toward Ben. She wasn’t sure what the right word would be. 

She wished she knew where they stood. Logically, she knew that it was a conversation that they should have, one that was needed at this point. But she didn’t want to ruin whatever they had by trying to figure out what was going on with them.

He was there for her. Every day. Without fail. He called her. He texted her. He sent her stupid quarantine memes and videos to make her laugh.

He kept a list of post quarantine activities for them.

She was almost positive that he was on the same page as her. That they were heading toward… something.

She hoped there were at least.

She pulled up Poe’s contact information, hitting the video call button.

“Hey Rey,” Poe responded, a bright grin on his face. “Also, wow, you are naked.”

“I’m not naked,” Rey rolled her eyes. “I’m in my bra.”

“Practically naked,” Poe amended. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t laugh,” Rey began, “But Ben? My editor? I’m going to be attending a… virtual dinner with his parents and uncles.”

“Ben, your editor?” Poe mocked, laughing. “Rey, you can just say your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“You guys make dinner and are binge watching two different shows,” Poe pointed out. “You are in a relationship.”

“We aren’t… we haven’t, we haven’t talked about anything like that.”

“Okay,” Poe conceded, holding his hands up in mock defeat. “I’ll leave it for now. What’s the problem?”

“I have no idea what to wear,” Rey admitted, switching the camera mode to show him the pile of clothes tossed on her bed. 

“Oh, wow.” Poe shook his head. “Babe. You just need to stop overthinking this.”

“I just want to make a good impression.” Rey bit down on her bottom lip. “I want to look nice, but not too nice for a virtual dinner.”

“I truly think sweatpants and a t-shirt would be appropriate for a virtual dinner.”

“You once told me that sweatpants were the first sign of a girl giving in to being alone forever.”

“Yeah, well, that was before quarantine.”

“Poe,” Rey exaggerated his name, holding onto the vowels for seconds. “Please just help me.”

“Jeans. And what about that yellow top you wore last time you went out with me and Finn?”

Rey nodded, walking over to her closet to pull out the yellow, flowy tank top she wore that night. “This one?”

“That one,” Poe confirmed. “It’s perfect. I think it captures your personality.”

“That’s ridiculous, but okay. Thank you.”

“I expect to be your maid of honor in your future wedding for this.”

“Poe!” Rey shook her head in amusement. 

“Love you! Bye!”

----

“Hi,” Ben said. “You changed.”

“So did you,” Rey noted, nodding at the screen.

Ben looked down at the button down shirt he had changed into. “You look nice.”

Rey smiled shyly. “Thank you.”

“My family can be,” Ben paused, trying to think of the right words. “A bit much.”

“Ben,” Rey shook her head. “It’s going to be fine.”

“Just promise me if my mom actually starts trying to show you baby pictures of me that you’ll look away.”

“I can make no such promise,” Rey laughed. “I’m sure you were a cute baby though.”

“I really wasn’t,” Ben sighed. “I am still waiting to grow into my ears.”

“I like your ears.”

Ben glanced down, happy that his hair was currently covering his ears. “I was just thinking that if you wanted a code word, you know, to end the call, now is the time to come up with one.”

“Ben,” Rey laughed his name. “It’s going to be fine. I’m going to love everyone. I’m more worried that they are going to hate me.”

“That’s just… that’s not possible.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “I think you might be a little biased at this point.”

“Maybe,” Ben admitted. “But I also know my family. Trust me. It isn’t possible.”

-----

Ben watched as Rey started laughing again, her smile wide and open as she tilted her head back. He could hear Luke and Han chuckling in the background, but he had pinned Rey’s frame as soon as they had merged into the dinner video call.

He had been right, of course, his family loved Rey. It probably should scare Ben at how easily Rey fit in with them. Easily picking up on their different personalities and slightly shifting and overplaying aspects of her personality to win them over.

He wished that she believed that she didn't need to change anything for them to love her. But it made him happy watching her try so hard to impress them. A part of him was still in denial and was convinced that Rey was putting in that kind of effort for reasons that didn't involve him at all.

But a bigger part of him knew that Rey wanted to fit in with them because she wanted to be with him. They hadn't talked about it, but Ben hoped that she knew that he wanted to be with her. 

He needed the stay home order lifted so that he could take her to one of the many locations on their post-quarantine adventure list. Once he was allowed to leave his apartment for non-emergent reasons nothing was going to keep him away from her.

He had already found himself halfway out the door ready to go over to her apartment numerous times over the last few weeks. If the order wasn't lifted soon, he wasn't sure how much longer he could wait.

He wanted to actually hold her while they watched Legacies. He wanted to be able to reach out and take her hand and show her the correct way to cut bell peppers. 

He wanted to discover and know all of the little things that she did that were lost over a computer screen.

"Ben?" Leia asked, snapping her fingers in front of the screen. "Maybe you can stop thinking about Rey long enough to join the conversation again?"

"What?" Ben sputtered, hoping that his face wasn't as red as it felt. But judging from the way his mom was laughing and Chewie was grinning at him, he was positive that it was. "Did you say something? I had a… work email that distracted me."

“A work email?” Leia asked, fake innocence dripping from her voice, “Is it important? Should I hop on and read it as well?”

“I was just saying,” Han started, placing his hand on Leia’s shoulder. “That this has been nice and that we hope Rey can make it to one of our weekly dinners once we are allowed to meet in person again.”

“Maybe even two,” Chewie added.

“Or three,” Luke finished.

“The lasagna was great, Leia,” Rey said, pulling Ben’s attention back to the screen. “And honestly so easy to make. I think I could have pulled this one off without Ben’s help.”

“Oh really?” Ben asked, raising his eyebrows. “Those are brave words coming from the girl who once asked if she was going to go blind while cutting bell peppers.”

Rey stuck her tongue out at him. “That was weeks ago. How many meals have we made since then? I’m practically a chef at this point. Maybe I’ll quit writing and open up a restaurant once quarantine ends.”

Ben snorted. “Literally anything to avoid writing a certain scene.”

“That’s not--”

“How is the book coming?” Leia interrupted, an amused grin on her face.

Actually, Ben noted, every single one of his family members had an amused smile on their face.

“Really well,’ Rey responded. “Ben has been a great editor. Even if we disagree on a pivotal scene.”

“She just doesn’t like to admit that I am right.”

“I have no problem admitting that you are right, when you are actually right,” Rey teased, taking a sip from her wine glass. “You still haven’t convinced me.”

"Maybe we should go over the list of reasons that I've given you already again tonight," Ben suggested. "I know you had your heart set on finishing up Legacies tonight, but this might be more important."

"Nothing is more important than finishing Legacies," Rey argued. "Besides you promised we would finish Legacies since we finished Witcher first. You going back on your promises now Ben?"

"Oh, Ben never breaks his promises," Leia said, and Ben glanced down at the bottom of his screen. He had forgotten for a minute that he was blatantly flirting with Rey in front of his parents and uncles. The knowing look on Leia and Han's face was insufferable, and somehow worse than the amused expressions on Luke and Chewie's face.

Ben really wasn't looking forward to reading whatever messages were waiting for him in the group chat he created between all of them. He had pushed his phone as far away from him as possible when Luke and Chewie wouldn't stop going on about how nice it was to finally meet Ben's girlfriend and how pretty she really was. 

At this point, Ben might only ever willingly talk to his dad ever again. He at least tried to get everyone to leave him alone.

He had never regretted creating a group more. 

"Where are you at in Legacies?" Luke asked. "I haven't started it yet, but if I have to stay home much longer, I might start. A lot of my students have been talking about it."

Ben smiled as he watched the animated way Rey responded to his uncle while they discussed the show. 

He wanted to see her. Stay home order be damned, he was going to see her.

----

Chewie: Rey is absolutely wonderful Ben. 

Uncle Luke: You should ask her out soon, a girl like that won't be single for long.

Dad: Luke.

Uncle Luke: What? 🤷🏼‍♂️ Someone needs to be honest with him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ben look that awestruck at a person before.

Dad: Did Leia ask you to take over harping at him so Ben would stop ignoring her calls?

Uncle Luke: I’m certain I have no idea what you are talking about.

Mom: I would never do anything like that. 

Dad: Leia.

Mom: But I would appreciate it if my son would pick up the phone every now and then. 

Ben: I’m blocking everyone but Dad.

---

Ben: I have a crazy idea. And you can absolutely, definitely say no if it makes you uncomfortable in any way.

Ben: Also, I am now realizing how sexual that sounded and I am regretting this already.

Ben: I should have thought my words through more there.

Ben: We can just ignore this entirely.

Rey Johnson: Ben. Stop.

Rey Johnson: Maybe I wouldn’t turn down a crazy sexual idea.

Rey Johnson: You’ll have no idea if you keep shooting yourself down before I can even respond.

Ben: Okay.

Rey Johnson: So, what’s this crazy idea? And just how sexual is it?

Ben: It’s not.

Ben: Sexual.

Ben: It might be crazy.

Ben: I really wish I could take back this conversation.

Rey Johnson: I really wish we could be having this conversation face to face.

Ben: … that’s my idea.

Ben: I haven’t left my house in well over fourteen days. I don’t think you have either? 

Ben: And I have a car. So if I wear a mask, and go straight to my car, and straight to your apartment. I mean. The risk is low, right?

Ben: I could also bring clothes, and I could just take a shower when I get there, to lower the risk even more?

Rey Johnson: I thought you said this wasn’t sexual?

Ben: I didn’t mean it like that. 

Ben: I meant a very perfunctory decontamination shower.

Rey Johnson: I’m teasing you Ben. 

Rey Johnson: Come over. 

Rey Johnson: We’ll talk about the perfunctoriness of your future shower in person.

Rey Johnson: [address sent]

---

Kneeling down on the floor, Rey placed another book on her bookshelf, adjusting the snow globe on the edge of the shelf again. She had been keeping herself busy with cleaning since she had sent Ben her address, just waiting for him to arrive. The fact that Ben had proposed it as an idea made her heart swell. She had almost asked him a dozen times over the last few weeks, but each time she managed to talk herself out of it at the last minute.

She was nervous. Rey blamed the wine for how bold she had been in the messages she had sent to him. Now that she was waiting though, with nothing but her own thoughts, Rey was worried that it was too much, too soon. While Rey was fairly confident that Ben asking to come over was a good sign, a sign that she wasn't alone in her attraction, it was hard for her to focus on that and not on the constant intruding thoughts that she was going to be left alone again. 

Ben had been the best part of her days and nights for weeks, and she was scared that he might be disappointed when he saw her. Or that he might decide that her appeal wasn't the same in person. Rey didn't want to lose him.

Not for the first time since the stay home order had been in place, Rey wished she could schedule a therapy appointment with her counselor. A childhood of being left behind and unwanted had left many scars and shadows in her brain. 

Ben had been nothing but kind to her. He flirted with her, he laughed with her, he spent hours on video calls with her walking her through how to make meals that Rey was pretty convinced idiots could handle making without any help. He was patient and good. 

A part of her knew that meeting him in person wasn't going to change anything for the worse, she just needed to remind herself that she deserved good things and good people.

And Ben Solo was a good person. Even if he argued with her over that fact with stories and worries about who he was at his last job, some awful publishing company that took advantage of writers with shady contracts.  

Mistakes didn't define a person's entire character though. And Rey knew all the work he had done to try to make the situation right. He was the reason for the multimillion dollar lawsuit against the company and he was still meeting with lawyers remotely to help bolster the plaintiffs' cases.

A knock on the door pulled her attention from her thoughts. Standing up, Rey brushed her hands down the colorful leggings and pulled down on the large, baggy black tank top she had changed into after dinner. Briefly, Rey considered running back into her bedroom and finding something more appealing to throw on, but then Ben knocked on the door again and Rey remembered that this is the same guy who told her she looked beautiful after she fell asleep during a call and woke up with drool dried to the side of her mouth.

"Hi," Rey greeted him, as she pulled open her front door. 

He was tall and broad, which Rey already knew, but seeing him in person put it in a different perspective. Rey fought against her first instinct to step into the hallway to hug him, her fingers tightening on the door knob still in her hand. 

"Hi," Ben responded and his voice was so much deeper in person. Rey couldn't see his smile because of the black mask that covered half of his face, but she knew that he was smiling with the way his eyes crinkled in the corners. "Can I come in?"

Without a word Rey stepped back to let him in. "You're really here," she said after Ben shut the door. She couldn't stop smiling at him. He held up the duffel bag in his hand as a question.  

Rey laughed, taking the bag from him and setting it down behind the couch. "I thought you were kidding about the decontamination shower."

"The perfunctory decontamination shower," Ben corrected, reaching up to take off his mask. He was smiling as he sat the mask down on the table.  

And oh, Rey had thought he was gorgeous on her computer screen, but seeing him smile in person, nothing was going to beat that. Her computer screen would never be enough again.

"I figured I'd bring clothes just in case," Ben continued, removing his leather gloves. "Whatever it takes for you to be comfortable with me being here. If you want to me to shower, I can do that. Change my clothes? I can definitely do that. If you've got a bottle of Lysol and you'd like to spray me--"

"Ben," Rey interrupted, taking a step closer to him.  "I think I'd really like it if you'd just kiss me already."

Ben stopped talking and looked at her. Rey shifted her weight under his stare, waiting for him to say or do anything. The longer he was silent the more embarrassed she grew. 

She was about to apologize when Ben finally moved toward her and kissed her. The kiss was chaste and slow at first, Ben still closing the distance between their bodies. He placed his hands on her waist, which were warm and large as they slid down her sides.

Rey opened her mouth, deepening the kiss as she pressed herself up to wrap her arms around his neck. She ran her hands through his dark, wavy hair, enjoying the softness of the strands as they fell through her fingers. Ben hummed his appreciation against her lips.

Ben pulled away first, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against hers. "Hi," he breathed, a wide smile on his face.

"Hi," Rey grinned back at him. "I'm really glad you came."

"Me too," Ben agreed, placing a kiss on her nose and then her forehead before he stood up straight and pulled her into his chest. "I can't believe you're really here."

"Me either," Rey said, taking a deep breath in an attempt to commit the smell of Ben to her memory. Placing a kiss against his chest, Rey lowered her arms from Ben's neck and wrapped them around his waist. "You smell nice. No shower needed."

"I'm glad," Ben laughed, his chest rumbling under her ear. Rey loved the way it sounded. "I guess I didn't need the extra set of clothes."

Ben moved his hands off of Rey to pull off his glove. He tossed it on to the table, before running his hands down her back.

"I suppose that depends on what the plan is." Rey said, her voice light and airy. "I could think of a few options where having extra clothes might be beneficial."

"Oh?" Ben questioned. "Want to share these plans?"

"Well, obviously we have some episodes of Legacies to watch."

"Obviously," Ben snorted, shaking his head. "I do have this theory that I'll enjoy the show much more when I'm holding you and can pay more attention to you than the show."

Rey blushed. "Maybe if you paid more attention to the show instead of thinking up these theories you'd be enjoying it more."

"I don't know. I quite enjoy thinking up those theories," Ben pressed a kiss into her hair. "And after Legacies?"

"Dessert. Maybe a game."

"And then?"

"And then in the morning," Rey said, pulling back from Ben slightly until she could glance up at him, tapping her fingers against his spine to try to dispel some of the nerves building up in her stomach. "In the morning, I was thinking maybe you could teach me how to make waffles."

"Waffles? What about pancakes?" Ben teased, brushing a piece of hair behind Rey's ear.

"Sure," Rey shrugged. "Or pancakes. If you stay, I won't be picky. I just, I want you to stay."

"I'll stay."

-----

“Ben,” Rey giggled as Ben moved his lips down her neck. “Ben. It’s 6:00.”

“I know.”

“It’s time for dinner with your family.”

“I know,” Ben repeated, placing a kiss on her shoulder. 

“You are distracting me,” Rey complained. “Nothing is ready.”

“The food is ready,” Ben mummered, pointing at the enchiladas that were cooling on her counter. “I’m dressed. You’re dressed. What more needs to be done?”

Rey spun around, pressing her back against the counter. “Ben. It’s 6:00. And you’re still here.”

Ben’s eyes widened slightly as he realized the problem. “I have my laptop. We can just set me up in a different room.”

“You don’t think they are going to notice that the apartment you are in isn’t your apartment?”

Ben was silent, thinking through their problem. “I’ll use one of those zoom backgrounds.”

“You hate them.”

“Yes.” Ben nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“We can just tell them.”

“We could,” Ben conceded. “But then the entire dinner is going to be us listening to my family ask extremely embarrassing and personal questions and I just… I don’t--”

 Rey interrupted him with a kiss, smiling against his lips when she pulled away. 

“Go get set up in my room. I’ll bring the food in,” Rey walked over to the deep fryer, blowing on a still-too-hot tortilla chip before popping it in her mouth. 

Ben had insisted on making homemade tortilla chips. Which really didn’t surprise her.

“We could also skip dinner,” Ben offered, following behind her. He lowered his head down to place a kiss just below her ear, before whispering, “We could have sex instead.”

“Ben,” Rey whined, setting her hands on top of his. 

“Really, really good sex.”

“Go pick a background babe,” Rey said, shaking her head in amusement. She opened the cabinet above her, pulling down two plates. “We’re all ready.”

“Fine,” Ben grumbled. Rey turned her head to give him one last kiss before he walked away to her room.

Dinner was going fine. Better than fine really. Luke and Chewie had spent the first half an hour making fun of Ben’s background, an image of the city at night. Ben had taken the teasing with a smile, saying that he had wanted to try something new. 

The enchiladas were great and the tortilla chips Ben had made were amazing. The wine Ben had picked out for the dinner went well. Han and Rey were talking about cars and Rey was enjoying watching Ben pretend to be annoyed at the focus of the conversation being on Han’s other child. 

No one seemed to be aware that Rey and Ben were in the same apartment, and Rey felt a rush of satisfaction come over her for getting away with it.

Then Rey dropped her wine glass, spilling the liquid down the front of her shirt. The glass broke on the edge of the table and when Rey went to pick it up, she felt the burn of the cut along her thumb.

“Fuck,” Rey shouted, sticking her thumb in her mouth without thought. 

“Are you okay?” Leia asked, a look of concern on her face.

“I’m fine,” Rey responded, blushing. “I’m just a bit of a klutz.”

Rey didn’t even notice that Ben was no longer on her screen until he was in front of her, setting down the first aid kid from her bathroom on the table next to her computer.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling at her hand to look at the cut. He inspected the cut with precision that the small cut didn’t warrant. 

“Ben, I’m fine,” Rey lifted her non-injured hand up to cup his chin and force him to look at her. “It’s no worse than a papercut. It’s not even really bleeding.”

“Still,” Ben glanced over at the first aid kit, opening it up and pulling out the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide. “You’ll let me clean it. And put a band-aid on it.”

“Sure babe,” Rey laughed. “As long as you admit that you’re doing this for you, and not for me.”

Ben didn’t say anything, he poured a small amount of the hydrogen peroxide on her finger, blowing on it as the chemical bubbled slightly along the cut. 

“Um,” Luke’s voice pulled Rey’s attention back to her computer. Han, Leia, Luke and Chewie were all staring at her and Ben. Rey had never seen such a big smile as the one on Leia’s face. Han smirked, as if he had known the entire time. 

“Anything you two want to share with the class?” Luke asked. 

Ben didn’t look away from Rey’s finger as he carefully wrapped the band-aid around the cut. “I’m at Rey’s apartment. Obviously.”

“And that’s why you had that ridiculous background?” Leia asked. “You didn’t want to just tell us that you were at Rey’s?”

“I was hoping to avoid this entire conversation,” Ben admitted, lifting Rey’s finger up to inspect the bandage. He placed a gentle kiss over the band-aid before gently placing her hand back in her lap. 

“I didn’t think you were supposed to be going around to be other people’s houses during stay home orders,” Chewie teased. 

“Violating the Governor’s directives to get a girlfriend? I guess he is your son after all, Han,” Luke said with a laugh. 

Ben blushed and Rey leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “I need to go change my shirt,” Rey said, smiling at the camera. “I think I’ll need Ben’s help. You know, since I’m injured. So we’ll see you guys next week!”

“The ‘barely a papercut’ injury?” Leia teased.

"Better safe than sorry!” Rey exclaimed. She gave them all a tiny wave goodbye before exiting the meeting. 

The screen had barely closed out before Ben’s phone started lighting up with text messages.

“Maybe you should mute the group chat,” Rey said, laughing at some of the messages as the preview popped up on his screen.

“Probably a good idea.”

“Thanks for coming to my rescue,” Rey said, sliding her hands around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

“Always,” he whispered against her lips.

“Now, you were saying something earlier about really, really good sex?” 

-----

Rey grinned as Ben squeezed her hand, pulling her into the ice cream shop with them. The stay home order was finally lifted and restaurants were opening, and even if new, additional social distancing requirements came along, the ability to be standing in an actual ice cream shop with Ben was worth all of it.

Even if they had to make reservations to go get ice cream. It was a new normal, and one she was more than willing to make adjustments for. 

Ben’s smile was infectious as he looked down at the ice cream flavors in the bins at the back of the room.

“I think,” Ben said, glancing up to the man behind the counter, “I would love a waffle cone with strawberry ice cream.”

“How many scoops?”

“Three.”

Rey snorted, shaking her head. “Three? Ben, that’s more sugar than I’ve ever seen you eat combined. You’re going to go into a sugar coma.”

“I imagine you’re eating at least half of it.”

Rey bit down on her bottom lip, leaning up to kiss Ben’s cheek. “You think you know me?”

“I know that I know you.”

“Oh yeah?” Rey raised an eyebrow. “Order for me then. Since you know me so well.”

“She’ll take a waffle cone with three scoops of…” Ben paused, taking one more look at all of the flavors. “Candy lovers delight.”

Rey pouted. He would pick the one she had been ready to order. 

“That’s not fair,” Rey argued as Ben paid for the ice cream. “You weren’t supposed to guess right.”

“I didn’t guess,” Ben told her, pulling out a chair at one of the small circle tables for Rey. “I just know you.”

Rey sat down, reaching into her bag, while Ben sat down across from her. She ran a finger across the journal that she had shoved in just before leaving her apartment. She had been debating when would be the best time to give it to him. 

She pulled the journal out, sliding it across the table.

"What's that?" Ben asked, picking the journal up with his free hand.

Rey squeezed his other hand. "You'll see."

Ben opened the journal, quickly reading through the pages. He smiled at Rey when he sat the journal back down, his mouth open wide as he chuckled. 

She had finished the scene weeks ago, but had been keeping it to herself. Arguing with Ben over the scene had been the highlight of many of her days stuck in her apartment. She didn't want to admit to him that he had convinced her relatively early into their talks.

The scene where Kira finally took Kylo’s hand. 

"It's perfect," Ben said, leaning forward to kiss her. "Absolutely perfect." 

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #reylo fic #reylo au #my fic

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 9

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,817

Warnings: slurs

I told you way back in Fifty-two

That I would never go with you

I hear you knocking but you can't come in

I hear you knocking, go back where you been

(x)

Flip was certain last night had been a dream. 

Every night for the last week, he’d dreamed of Eliana returning to him. She would run her delicate fingers through his hair and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. Every morning he’d wake up in an empty bed, the blankets never feeling quite warm enough around him. His dreams were swept away with the morning sun, only to be seen again after nightfall and a fourth of whiskey.

It took him a moment to realize he was not dreaming as she slowly woke to the feeling of her curls tickling his face. He fought to keep his eyes closed, instinctively holding onto any memory of her that lingered. Except when he opened his eyes, she was still there.

The realization that the events of last night were not his mind tricking him came forth. Her showing up at his door, him telling her about his undercover work, her telling him that she loved him back, it came flooding back to him. This was real. Eliana was there with him.

And she loved him too.

He wrapped his arms around her small frame, bringing her closer. Bare skin rested against bare skin, the blankets around the two of them like a cocoon of warmth. She stirred slightly as he pressed a kiss into her curls. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled when she saw he was awake too.

“Morning handsome,” Her voice was thick with sleep as she nuzzled into his neck.

“Morning gorgeous,”

“I’m not ‘Trouble’ this time?” She asked, pressing light kisses up his neck.

“No, not currently,” He smiled as her kisses travelled from his neck to his jawbone and eventually to his lips.

He didn’t care about morning breath or the sleep still in his eyes, her lips against his was all he could think about. His cock, already half hard, was starting to stir. It pressed against her thigh and she smiled into the kiss, giggling as she moved her hand to stroke it lazily. He moaned, his hands palming at her soft breasts. As she stroked him, she threw her leg over his and began rocking against his thigh. He felt her grow wet against him and he wanted to bury his head between her thighs and call it breakfast.

He wanted to wake up this way every morning for the rest of his life. Before Eliana, he felt the need to rush out after spending the night at a partner’s place. Work was a good excuse when needed, but most of the time it was the truth. He had a demanding job that would sometimes give him strange hours. Some of the more serious girlfriends didn’t appreciate that, and there was a small nagging in the back of his mind that Elle might not like it sometimes either. But right now, it was the weekend and nothing was going to get in their way. They could spend all day in bed if they wanted. Logically, he knew she had a shift scheduled for later that day but he was ready to call the hospital with some half-assed excuse in order to spend the day between her thighs.

He thought he heard a knock at his front door but chose to ignore it, the feeling of bliss stronger than his sense of obligation. A hand wandered down her stomach to swipe across her core, causing her to buck up to him. He wanted to make her clench around him like she did last night.

The knock came again, making both of them still as they listened.

“I should probably get that,” He admits.

“Mmmm probably,” She lets go of his cock, making him sigh at the lack of touch.

The knocking continued and he grumbled as he crawled out of the warm bed. He threw on the crumpled pair of jeans that were on his floor from last night and an old t-shirt. He sat back on the bed and leaned over to grab at her.

"Stay right here, I'll be back for you in a second," He said, punctuating his words with kisses along her stomach.

"Answer the door you sap," She laughed, giving him a little push.

He got up, closing the bedroom door behind him, he didn't want anyone else seeing her like that. That was for his eyes only. The knocking continued, growing louder and more persistent. If whoever was there didn't stop soon, his neighbors would be coming out to complain. The last thing he needed was more people keeping him from getting back into bed with Elle. He swung the door open not even bothering to check the peephole.

Felix stood there in front of him with his hand still poised to knock.

Fuck.

He felt the color drain from his face, this couldn't be happening right now. His mind raced as he attempted to gain control of the situation before it got too far gone.

“Felix! Hey!” He greeted the man as casually as he could muster.

"Look like I found your place this time Stallworth," He grinned. "Glad to see your address checked out,"

Fuck, he'd forgotten he'd given his address out yesterday after Felix had showed up at the real Ron Stallworth’s place. This was a disaster, he had to fix this.

“Of course it checked out, it's my place," He said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe to block the entrance.

"Well, you gonna invite me in?" Felix asked, a dangerous look in his eye that manage it apparent that it wasn't really a question.

"Its nine in the fuckin morning, can you come by another time? Maybe when I didn’t just wake up?” He could not have this lunatic peaking around his place, especially with his Jewish girlfriend naked in bed in the next room.

"Just for a minute, I wanna see how our newest recruit is holding up when he’s not with us,” Felix insisted, making it obvious he wasn't going to leave.

He took a quick glance to make sure the bedroom door was still shut before assessing the situation in front of him. He couldn't do anything that would blow his cover, but he absolutely refused to put Elle in harm’s way. As long as that door stayed shut and she stayed quiet, he could pull this off. He had to.

He leaned off the door and walked back into his tiny living area. Felix followed close behind, his eyes darting around to take everything in. Flip was suddenly thankful he’d remembered to take all his case files back to the office, leaving no police memorabilia visible. He watched Felix move around the room slowly, him looking over everything as if running through it with a fine tooth comb. He was probably looking for hidden Star of Davids or something else that would give away his identity, but Flip’s decidedly secular residence was all that was apparent.

"Nice place you got here," Felix finally commented, seeming satisfied.

"It's alright. The rent’s good and its a nice neighborhood, if you know what I mean,” He responded, staying in character despite his brain wanting him to scream GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT.

Felix’s next move was to peruse through Flip’s minuscule kitchen. The bottle of whiskey still sat on the table from last night, which earned him a “nice” before the wiry man opened his fridge and started looking inside.

"The fuck are you looking for?” He came right up behind him, trying to see what Felix could be looking for.

“Checkin' to make sure you don't have any Jew foods here," He responded simply, moving to the cabinets.

What a fucking weirdo. Luckily, his cabinets were pretty bare. He didn't cook much, most of his meals consisted of TV dinners or were late night diner runs after long shifts. And up until last week, him and Elle had been eating together at least twice a week, with her sending him home (when he went home) with leftovers.

He mentally checked over his kitchen to remember if he had any old matzoh laying hidden in a cabinet. Felix’s check revealed that he didn’t.

"You know you're not gonna find any Jew food here, don't be stupid," He reasoned, speaking in a louder tone so Elle would maybe hear. He hoped she had the sense to stay put.

"Never hurts to check," Felix responded, closing the last cabinet.

“You gonna check my bathroom too? Look for toothpaste with little stars in it?” Flip knew he shouldn't be mocking the man, but this was ridiculous. Even if he’d been alone in the apartment at the time, he would have been annoyed by the intrusion.

The klansman just smiled at him and walked to the bathroom to poke his head in. Flip didn’t even have a medicine cabinet in the mirror, that room took no time to check over. He popped his head back out in no time flat, smiling to him in a way that had Flip thinking he’d done it more to aggravate him than actually look around.

Then Flip watched the man’s beady eyes flick toward the bedroom door.

"What's in there?" He asked, voice sporting a dangerous edge under the polite tone.

Flip’s heart was in his throat. This could not be happening.

"My bed? You think I sleep on the fuckin couch?” He mustered.

Felix walked over to the door, hand resting on the handle. Before he could turn it, Flip began to speak loudly.

"Why are you trying to see my bedroom, you a fag or something?" He challenged, moving to stand in his way if he had the gall to turn the handle any more.

“Oh, you got fag stuff in there Stallworth?" He shot back.

"Fuck no, but you wanting to see where I sleep is fuckin’ weird. Women only beyond this point,” This conversation was ridiculous, this whole situation was ridiculous. Please let this be the end of it.

“How can I be sure you ain’t hiding anything in here. I’m sure the guys wouldn’t be happy if they knew you were keepin’ stuff from them,” Felix’s mouth twisted into a sick smile, his teeth barred like a wild animal. His hand twisted together around the doorknob, pushing it open when the knob was fully turned.

This was it. If Felix saw Elle, Flip was prepared to fight for both her life and his own. He would kill the man if he had to, he decided in that moment. His posture tensed as the door creaked open and the bedroom was revealed little by little. Felix entered the room and he followed quickly behind him, ready to take the man down.

Flip’s eyes immediately shot to the bed, expecting to see a confused and terrified Eliana under the sheets looking back at him. Instead he saw…nothing?

She wasn't anywhere to be found, not even her clothes were present. He felt a sudden sigh of relief, she'd hidden somewhere, somehow. Smart girl. He turned to Felix, who was standing in the center of the room with his hands on his hips.

"Satisfied? I’m obviously not hiding anything. Now you look like a fuckin’ faggot tryin’ to get into my bedroom. Can I go to sleep now? Or are you gonna lay in my bed first?” He threw his hands up at Felix, who gave the room a last once-over.

“Don’t you fuckin’ wish,” He chuckled before smiling at him. "You're off the hook. For now. See you at the next meeting Stallworth,”

"Yeah yeah, I'll be there if I can get some fuckin’ sleep first,” He followed Felix out to the front door, towering over him incase he decided to try and look around some more.

They got to the front door, Flip just about to shut it as Felix’s hand darted out to keep it open. He leaned in the frame, taking one long look at the taller man before speaking again.

"I'll stop by another time, maybe I’ll bring the guys around. We’ll grab a beer and talk…business” He chose his words carefully, waiting for him to understand the implications. Klan business. Being planned in his own apartment.

"I'll welcome it," Flip raised his eyebrows, internally swearing to himself that next time he'd be more prepared.

Felix let go of the door frame and walked down the hall. Flip watched him turn the corner before closing the door and turning the lock, threading the chain lock on for extra security. The second everything was in place he turned on his heels and ran to the bedroom in search of where his girlfriend had hid herself.

He reached his room looking around wildly before calling out to her.

“Elle?”

No response.

"Elle it's safe to come out," He walked around, looking under the bed to see if she was there, she wasn't.

He stood back up. He moved the blankets off the bed, seeing if she had buried under them. She hadn’t. Could she have snuck out while Felix was walking around? His floorboards were pretty squeaky, so that was highly unlikely. His dresser was too small to hide in and the size of his closet was essentially a joke. There was literally no place in his room she could be.

So where the fuck did she go?

Suddenly he heard a light tapping at his bedroom window.

He turned his head to see Elle on the fire escape outside his bedroom window. She was wearing his button down and was holding her own clothes in a bundle under her arm. He rushed over to the window, opening it from the inside.

"Elle!" He helped her climb back inside. It was probably 40 degrees out and she was standing barefoot on a metal grate.

"What the fuck Flip?" She gritted out, throwing her clothes back on the floor. She was shivering and rubbing her arms as she stood on his bed, towering over him just barely.

"I'm so sorry Elle I had no idea he was gonna swing by--"

"Was that a klansman who just walked around your house like he owned the place?" She let him wrap her back up in the blanket, trying to warm her back up.

“The same guy swung by my partner’s apartment, we’re using his name for the investigation because he's an idiot and use his real name. So I had to throw the guy off his scent and give him my real address to stop him from poking around more. I never thought he’d actually show up,” he explained.

“Doesn’t explain why he had to check the whole fucking place,” She mumbled.

“He keeps trying to figure out if I'm Jewish. He's fuckin’ obsessed with it. He was looking everywhere for some sort of sign, he didn't wind up finding one. I’m so sorry you were put in this situation, but you were so smart to hide—”

"Yeah? Well you can put me in the fucking attic next time the gestapo rolls around," She shot back.

Regret flooded her face as soon as the words left her lips. The two stared at each other in stunned silence.

"Elle," He started, his voice barely above a whisper, "that's not fair to say,”

"I know," Her eyes screwed shut and she pinched her nose bridge between her fingers "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. But what the fuck, Flip? What was he gonna do if he saw me? What would he have done to you?”

"He wouldn't have been able to do anything, I wouldn't have let him anywhere near you," He wrapped his arms around her blanket-covered shoulders. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you,"

"But what about you?" She asked quietly.

"I'll be fine, I'm trained in this remember?"

“Yeah,It’s your job, I know,” She said, sounding unconvinced.

He opened his mouth to reassure her but before he could she unwrapped herself from his arms and moved toward the kitchen. She opened a few of the cupboards before discovering the salt and pepper shakers and pulling them down. She then moved to the fridge and opened it.

"I'm gonna make breakfast, you have eggs, right?" She didn't wait for an answer, pulling the small carton from the fridge and placing them on the counter.

She was still only wearing his flannel. He guessed she had thrown it on after hearing Felix in the other room and decided she needed to make a quick exit. It was way too big for her, the hem falling at her thighs and the sleeves covering her hands. She had to keep pushing them back up and she moved around. He stood in the doorway watching her for a moment, she looked perfect to him. He wanted this every morning.

He watched her chew at her cheek as she put butter and a frying pan out on the counter next to the eggs. She put the pan on the stove and turned on the heat. She found a bowl in a cabinet and started cracking the eggs into it. He trekked across the kitchen until he could stand behind her and wrap his arms around her waist.

"Is scrambled eggs okay?" She asked, not looking up at him but leaning into his touch

"Sounds great," He responded.

"You should get some sour cream. You beat it into the eggs, it makes them creamier," She said as she stirred the eggs up.

"I'll try that some time," He kissed the top of her head. "Are you trying to avoid talking about my job?”

She sighed, realizing he wasn't going to let this go.

“Flip, I'm gonna worry no matter what," She told him, letting the butter melt in the pan before pouring in the eggs. "And if I'm being honest, I'm not thrilled you have to hanging out with people who want us dead,"

"I'm not thrilled either, but it's my job,"

"I know it's your job! And I’m sure you're great at your job, but what if you run into someone who didn't know you were undercover like I did? I could've gotten you killed. Someone could let it drop that you're a cop or that you're Jewish or literally anything that doesn’t perfectly match up to your cover story and BAM! It’s over!”

“That risk is there for any case. It has happened before while I'm undercover, when I was new to this but I don’t think that will happen this time. We dont even spend that much time in town, were out in the middle of nowhere,”

“You have to listen to these men talk day after day about their hatred toward anyone different than themselves. You and your partner are their targets, who they want to keep from existing on this planet. Couldn't the CSPD find anyone else to have done this undercover portion? They had to choose the Jewish guy, completely disregarding how that could affect him and the case?”

“It didn't matter to me in the beginning. Almost no one in the office knows I’m Jewish because I’m not practicing. Up until a couple months ago I’d never been to a Rosh Hashanah dinner, or spent any time thinking about my heritage. This is all new to me, and the department isn't to blame for that. Besides, this is my job right now. If I have to talk some shit about Jews with a bunch of racists, I have to do it because its what I’m currently paid to do,” He was beginning to feel impatient.

“I understand that its your job Flip! G-d! I have to do it every fucking day too! Do you know how many patients I've had over the years who tell me they don't want a Jew touching them? Or ask for a Christian nurse? It's fucking infuriating! But I have to smile and nod because it's my fucking job to put up with people's preconceived notions," Her voice rose as she spoke, the scraping at the bottom of the pan grew frantic.

“In Indiana I had to save a man's life, me and the other nurses were trying to keep him from bleeding out right in front of us. We cut his shirt off his wound and there was a swastika tattoo staring back at me. But I had to pretend that didn't affect me and I had to go back to saving his life," Her voice cracked as she spoke and she sucked in a gasp of air.

"Hey, hey, come here," He cooed, trying to get her to let go of the pan.

"I'm fine, let me finish the eggs," She sniffed. He couldn't see her face but he knew she was crying.

"You sure?" He asked.

"I'll be fine. It's just—I get you have to be professional to these people. It's your job. But its just exhausting to be polite to people who don't even see you as a person,"

"I never really thought of it too much, to be honest. It never really affected me before I took this case. But hearing how these guys talk, and knowing they're talking about my family, about you, and about me, it's difficult to listen to," He confided. "I didn't grow up Jewish, it wasn't a part of my life really, but that doesn't seem matter to them,"

"It doesn't," She affirmed. “It's not only a religion. They've judged you for something you have no control over, something that you didn't think was going to be a part of your life," She finally stopped scrambling the eggs and moved them off the burner.

She turned around in his arms, hugging him back. He rested his chin on top of her head, as she burrowed her face in his chest.

“After the Shoah, me parents said they kept hearing the phrase ‘never again’ said over and over. This persecution, this horror would not be allowed to continue. The world would learn and grow. But sometimes it feels like nothing has really changed,” Her voice came muffled from his shirt.

"I know you'll do a good job, but I'm still gonna worry. You’re my boyfriend for fucks sake,"

"Boyfriend, huh?" He teased. "I'm your boyfriend now?"

"Ugh, don't do this," She looked up at him, trying to hide a smile. "You're my boyfriend and I love you, so you aren't allowed to be getting in to trouble, okay?"

"Hey, trouble is your thing not mine," He reminded her.

She rolled her eyes and unwrapped her hand from his torso, placing them on either shoulder and pulled him in for a kiss.

"I love you," She murmured as they broke.

"I love you too," He really meant it.

"Now let's eat these eggs and get back to your bed. I'm not quite finished with you yet,"

“Oh, the feeling is mutual, believe me,”

--------------

I honestly cannot remember if I ever had a tag list for this, I can’t seem to find one. So if you want to be tagged, please let me know and i’ll get that instituted!

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x oc #ARTBmasterlist #ARTB #flip x reader

[todo-ho-ki]

If It’s Convenient for You, pt.8

Hello Lovelies! I’ve FINALLY gone and done it! It’s part 8! I made it twice as long for the wait, but I cut the action in half! WOW! I also definitely made a typo in the text please don’t look at it! It took me forever to get back into writing soooo I hope it’s up to par. I like it, but I’m supposed to.

@aurorahoneybuns​

@velvet-kissesss​

@chims-kookies​

@raynetempest​

Masterlist

Pairing: BakugoXReader

Warnings: None! It’s pretty much all chill. Well, the cursing..

Word Count: 4,044

"What do you want to eat?” He asked after what seemed like a million years of silence.

“I don’t have much in here. I was planning on shopping yesterday. Help yourself though.” You motioned to the kitchen, head falling onto the back of the couch. You were beyond tired and these nightmares weren’t helping.

“Holy shit! You have two eggs and 13 grains of rice left! How the fuck are you alive?”

“I said I was gonna shop yesterday! But instead I got fucking stabbed, if you don’t mind! Fucking listen once in a while,”you muttered.

Soon after, though, the aroma of restaurant quality food filled the air. He handed you your bowl begrudgingly. How he managed to make anything at all was impressive, but the sight alone was making your mouth water.

“Wow. This actually look delicious,” you mused.

“Course it does. You think I can’t cook or somethin’?”

“Wh-I just- it’s not something that even registered, honestly.” The thought of Bakugo cooking for you made you suddenly shy. “And I didn’t really have anything in there. Not really sure how you managed to make this.” 

He only grunted in response before digging in. You followed suit, the taste blossoming on your tongue. It was full of flavor and-spice. So much spice. You managed to choke the fist bite down, a coughing fit following, and tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

He raised an eyebrow in minimal concern, a smirk appearing on his face. “Too spicy?” He taunted. You felt your body temperature rising with the heat in your mouth, lips and tongue searing.

“What the fuck did you put in here?” Your words managed to escape despite the coughing.

“Just come chili oil and cayenne. Not that big a deal.” He shrugged his shoulders like he didn’t conspicuously try to kill you just now.

“It is if you put the whole bottle!” You set the food down, impressed that the taste was more than just spice, but definitely caught off guard. “I have to prepare myself before I eat hot shit.”

“What, can’t handle it?”  It was more like a challenge than a concern.

“I can handle it just fine. I’m prepared now,” you spat, picking the bowl back up with a mission. It was enough to scarf down now that you knew it was hotter than the sun. And honestly, you were beyond starving. He stifled a laugh at your watery eyes and running nose.

“By the way, that was payback for the comment earlier.” He snatched your bowl up and gave you a cocky look.

“Are you telling me mine was spicier than yours?”

“God,no. Mine was way spicier. But go through this much trouble to keep your sorry ass alive just  to kill you with food? No thanks.” 

You swore you drifted off to sleep for a moment with the melodic clanking of dishes in the background.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

“Huh? It’s 10pm.”

“You were literally just asleep. You tellin’ me you’re not tired?”

“Well, I’m like, a normal adult. Ten is too early.” It seemed like the food was sufficient pay back for your slip up earlier; he went right back to annoying the shit out of you.

He harrumphed and picked you up once again, without asking of course, tossing you onto your bed.

“Goodnight.” He stood strangely still for a moment before turning.

“W-wait! Can a girl brush her teeth and shit?” He groaned like your daily hygiene was an imposition before he went for your legs again.

“Literally my crutches are in the van. I can walk if you get them. Since, you know, that’s what they’re for.”

“I’m not leaving you alone.” There was something in his tone hinting to you that he wasn’t just a hero doing his job, but you were too tired to care.

And at this point you were just feeling like an inconvenience, though you weren’t altogether convinced there was an actual reason he refused to grab them. Except maybe just to irritate you.

“Well then walk me to the van and let’s get them! I’m tired of you carrying me around!” Really, you weren’t. If he wanted to carry you, you had more than half a mind to let him. But if your legs didn’t stretch soon, they were sure to fall off.

“It’s not a big deal.” He turned his head to look out your window, eyeing the van. “Me carrying you is the equivalent of you holding a gallon of milk.”

“Wow. What a fucking strange way to brag about how strong you are... But what if something happens? You gonna throw me on the ground to fight? Or maybe get us both killed? It’s safer if your hands are free.” He scowled a bit and you weren’t entirely sure his crossed arms would stay on his body if he tightened up any more.

“Don’t. Move.” The words barely came out as he stomped off, returning within literally 20 seconds.

“Thank you,” it wasn’t a genuine response, sarcasm dripping off the words. But for the first time since you got stabbed in the first place, you were standing and walking on your own. “Oh god that’s incredible!” Finally able to do something yourself, you finished your routine slowly, just to revel in it.

Bakugo was leaning on your desk, lost in thought when you came back in. He dwarfed the desk in size, easily standing six foot four. God, he was pretty when he wasn’t scowling. The almond shape of his eyes was soft, so gentle you wouldn’t think they belonged to someone so hot-headed. The lounge wear he chose to sleep in wasn’t doing your red face any favors either. Why did it always have to be fucking sweat pants? Your eyes shot back up, opting to linger on  his biceps to keep thoughts of...other things off your mind.

His hair shimmered elegantly in the moonlight. His red eyes held more emotion than his face led you to believe. Concern..? Nerves? Just idle thoughts? He seemingly didn’t even hear you crutches on the floor as you stood in the doorway.

He cracked a mile for some reason, just a split second reaction that set you ablaze before he look straight at you. “There a reason you’re staring like that?” His tone was teasing, at best.

Lie. Lie through your fucking teeth.

“Well-I didn’t wanna interrupt.” Your head turned involuntarily. You couldn’t look at this Bakugo. The calm and beautiful one who wasn’t calling you names, who was so casually protecting you like it was nothing. This one was..a bit difficult to stomach. At least if he was being an ass you’d have some sort of excuse to deny liking him even a little bit.

“I couldn’t be doing less than I’m doing right now.” Judging by his response, he didn’t buy it one bit. Not that surprising, really. You’d already embarrassed the shit out of yourself on the way to the hospital. Checking him out would be the least intrusive thing you could muster at this point.

“You looked like you were thinking about something important.” And really, it wasn’t a lie. He pushed off the desk with a quiet agility usually reserved for cats.

“Goodnight.”

“Uh, yeah. Night.” You didn’t dare turn to watch him walk away. By now he had to realize you were eating him up like he was your last meal. And he’d probably take it as a challenge. For once, your sleep was deep and dreamless. ------- You hobbled down the steps at six in the morning. Bakugo put you to bed so early that sleeping any longer was impossible.

“Good morning!” Kirishima beamed from the living room. 

Agh! Jesus. It’s too early for a smile that bright.

“Morning,” you winced. Sleep hadn’t quite worked itself out of your body, plopping down on the couch lazily.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Actually, for once, I did.” You thought it was a little strange. Shit had been plaguing you the second those two dudes walked in the door at the Takoyaki shop. You knew you were having nightmares, but they were completely erased from your memory the second you woke up. And they only left behind a vague and lingering discomfort.

“Yeah. You guys mentioned something about nightmares, right? What’s that about?”

His eyes flicked to his phone and back to you. “It’s not a big deal. I had a nightmare on the way home from the hospital. But I don’t even remember it.” His face scrunched a bit.

“I mean, it could just be from the incident. But it could also be something else.” His eyes followed to his rapidly vibrating phone once again.

“Jeez, Kirishima. Popular with the ladies huh?” You joked. You didn’t really want to talk about the past couple of days anyway.

His face scrunched up a bit further. “It’s Bakugo. He’s demanding a list of what you need from the store. Or else he’s...buying a bunch of spicy shit? What is this dude on about?” He held his phone up, trying to decode the threat

. But you just let out a laugh. “He fed me really spicy Oyakodon last night. And I almost died.”

“Yeah. He’ll do that. Anything to add to the list?”

“I mean, I was just gonna go to the store, but if he’s buying...” After ten minutes you had a complete list sent to Bakugo.

“He said that’s the longest fucking list he’s ever seen in his life and you shouldn’t wait until you have three ingredients in the house to go shopping.”

“Tell him to fuck off.” He laughed softly.

So far, besides the outburst the night before, things were going swimmingly with the boys around. They didn’t bother or pry. Well, Todoroki and Kirishima didn’t. They let you do whatever you needed to do and Todoroki even took you to the park, much to Bakugo’s dismay.

You hobbled up the steps to your room with Todoroki lingering behind. There was moment of rest before you could hear the very distinct sound of Bakugo yelling in the distance, getting closer with every word until he was standing right in front of Todoroki.

“Are you out of your fucking minds!? Why is this the second time I’m asking you that!?”

“It was just some fresh air in the park,” you shrugged.

“Yeah. To you! Who knows what assholes saw you? And you.” His eyes narrowed on Todoroki leaning against the door frame. “What kinda stunts you think you’re out here pullin’ taking her in the open like that in the middle of the day?”

“She was literally right next to me the whole time. Nothing would’ve happened to her.” It looked like he was ready to pull his hair out.

“That’s-! That’s not the fucking point! If someone was watching, now they know she’s with at least you, and that’s if they’re stupid! And they know we’re driving the van! I can’t fucking believe you two right now!” He stormed off for a moment, leaving Kirishima a bit red-faced and ashamed.

“Sorry bros. He’s right this time.” He patted Todoroki’s shoulder and took his leave. All you could do was sigh.

"Is it even possible to do something that satisfies him in some way? Do I need to sit here like a household object and not speak?" You plopped yourself onto the bed, finding comfort in just staring at the ceiling.

"In hindsight, perhaps it wasn't the smartest move in the world." He just shrugged taking a seat at your vanity.

"Huh. Just a couple dumbasses upstairs." He smiled softly.

"I get that a lot."

"You? You're literally in the top three. How in the world-" Your nice, quiet, calm conversation was interrupted by your already open bedroom door nearly popping off the hinges, your head popping up to assess the damage.

"That's it you Icy-Hot idiot! You're fucking out! It's just like I have to do everything my damn self!"

"You're going to do double shifts?" He asked. His calm was such a juxtaposition to Bakugo's constant rage.

"If I fucking have to! You're turning out to be useless,  you chicken fried fuck!" There was no way for you to even pretend that wasn't the funniest insult you'd ever heard fly out of someone's mouth, bursting into uncontrollable laughter at Todoroki's expense.

"You shut your fucking trap, asshat! You're fucking dead meat too! You're a moron!"

"Aww, I don't get to be a chicken fried fuck? Perhaps a deep fried shit sandwich?" It was Todoroki's turn to stifle a laugh, burying his head as far into his hands as he could.

"Get out!" He nearly threw Todoroki out of the room, slamming the door behind him. When his eyes turned to you, you weren't feeling nearly as funny as you were a second ago.

"Are you done being an idiot? I know you aren't that stupid." There was a threat in his voice that you could barely perceive with your ears, but your body was reading loud and clear, goosebumps popping up on your shoulders.

"I didn't mean to offend. I just wanted some fresh air."

"We're trying to keep you safe. You're clearly a target. And we don't know why or for what. This isn't even what we were sent here for, so I'd appreciate a little cooperation."

"Look who's talking." You rolled your eyes, but Bakugo was over your splayed form in a second. His hands wrapped around both of your wrists, pulling you up so hard you nearly fell off the bed. He was staring straight down at you with an unreadable expression, face much closer than you anticipated. 

Your lips parted to say what you were hoping was a remark of some sort, but it was just a garbled nervous squeak. Bakugo was way more intimidating than you gave him credit for. And you gave him a lot of credit for it. His taut muscles strained once again and his grip was too strong on your wrists as he held them up between you two.

"You only seem to understand when I get rough. So here's the deal." His voice was low and tense.

"We're staying here," he snarled. "Do not leave this fucking house without one of us. And it should go without saying, but don't go in public, idiot. Especially not with Icy Hot! You can tell who he is from a mile away! I don't give a shit how bored you are! Do some fucking brain training or something since you seem to need it. I am not playing around like you seem to think I am." He stared for another moment before letting your wrists go and standing straight.

Your stare was as incredulous as your face was red, the ghost of his bruising grip setting you ablaze.

Did he really just threaten to protect me?

Your heart was beating quickly now, the temperature in the room seemingly skyrocketing. You once again felt the same warm tingly feeling you felt in the hospital.

He sat back in the vanity chair with no emotion in his face, like he hadn't just essentially started to assault you. The quiet seemed to be too much for him. "If I find out something happened to you because you were being stupid, I'll kill you. Now tell me you understand."

The audacity of this bitch..the hot fucking audacity!

"I don't think you-"

"I said tell me you understand," he growled again, lips curling in a snarl. You were crumbling under his stare, though admittedly it wasn't from intimidation. "Not another fucking word better come out of your stupid bratty mouth if you're not gonna say it. And you can forget about me cooking again."

It was like he knew that would set off an automatic response in your brain. "I understand!" The tension in the room clicked off like a light and he relaxed at that. 

"Jesus christ."

"What was that?"

"Can Todoroki come back now? I like hanging out with him. He doesn't call me a stupid brat."

"No! He's fucking out!"

"Ugh. Please. I don't think I can stand you for sixteen hours."

"Me and Kirishima will take four hours. But I appreciate the insinuation that I'd think of spending sixteen hours a day with you." There was a little smirk on his face that you were eager to slap right off of him.

"I-uh... Get out. I have to practice for my audition." ---- You busied yourself late into the night with your narrowed down selections, trying very hard not to  recall what happened the last time you stopped practicing. You weren't even sure why you made Bakugo leave. You were sure he could hear you anyway. Before you knew it, Bakugo was slamming the door open at the offending hour of 10 p.m.

"It''s time for you to go to bed." The fear of being startled nearly killed you on the spot.

"Wh-it's ten! Why are you such an old man?"

"And you're a fucking wreck in every way. What's your point? A schedule is good for you."

"I feel like I'm at my dad's house." Your hand met your hip as you mumbled. "Whatever. Kirishima's taking the shift tonight. I'll be out around the neighborhood."

"I literally don't care." He looked like he was about to start yelling again, but he just took a breath and left.

"Don't fucking stay awake singing shitty songs." He disappeared around the corner before you could retaliate.

Strangely enough, knowing Bakugo wasn't downstairs was making you restless. Not that you didn't trust the other two, but a big part of you wanted him to be there if something went down. He did seem to be the brains of the operation.

Maybe I should text him. He's probably out there bored. Wait, that's the actual worst idea. Emergencies only.

Your resolve didn't last long, picking up your phone the second your mind was blank.

The most prominent emotion was shock. Bakugo said something that wasn't terrible to you. And it was almost nice. That made it a little easier to fall asleep. --------- You woke up in a silent panic. You couldn't remember if you'd had another dream, but your heart was racing at top speed. It was pitch black. Why? There was a streetlight in the complex. You were about to draw the curtains when you saw it.

Frozen with fear, your eyes darted as a terrifiyingly skinny figure stood motionless outside your window. You could just barely see him through the fluttering crack in the curtains but the pit in your stomach told you he could see you just fine.

Torn between wanting to move and wanting to yell out the window left you sitting completely still on the edge of your bed.

"I know you see me Kurahiko." You closed your eyes as tight as you could. His lips didn't even move and his voice was right in your ear.

I have to be asleep. I'm just asleep.

"You don't have to be anything. Not here." You looked out the window again and he was gone. Instead, he was right in front of you, leering over your body with that same sickening smile. He may have caught you off guard the first time, but he wasn't as scary now that you were sure you could remember. Your first instinct was to go for the throat, which he obviously didn't expect. So he wasn't as all-knowing as you thought.

Since you weren't  really awake, there was no harm in jumping out of bed, right? And this asshole was an idiot too if he thought he was going to let you terrorize him forever.

Wrong. So, so very wrong. You let out a yelp as you hit the ground after standing.

"Silly girl. A good try I suppose. But I control all of this. You think I wasn't prepared for you to put up a fight?"

"The fuck do you want?" You grunted, heat washing over you from the pain.

"In time, Kurahiko. You'll know in time."

"What the hell does that mean? At least have some decency you zombie looking motherfucker!" The door burst open and in the same instant the lighting returned to normal, a daze washing over you.

"Woah. Who are you talking to Kurahiko?" Kirishima's eyes were filled with worry, flipping the light as you sat yourself up. Who were you talking to?

"I don't know." The waves of pain crashed over you as you realized you'd tried to reach for something.

"Let's get you back to bed. Are you okay?" He lifted you gently back into your bed, feeling your head for a fever.

"I don't remember anything. I just-woke up scared. I don't even remember being asleep this time. I woke up because it was really dark in here. But I don't feel any pain." He took a look out the window for a moment before shutting the blinds all the way.

"Do you want me to stay in here until you fall asleep?" He was so insanely adorable with his raised eyebrows and cheeks popping out that you couldn't say no. It was hard to believe this dude was as fierce as he was.

"I think that would be great, yeah." He plopped down by the foot of the bed without hesitation.

"You won't even know I'm here!" Despite Kirishima's best efforts to make you feel safe, you couldn't shake the sickening feeling setting in. Every once in a while his eyes would meet yours to check if you were asleep and finally you decided to just pretend you were so he could leave and get some sleep of his own.

Your plan was to stay awake as long as possible. The light broke through the curtains as sleep finally found you. You were sure it would be a comfortable morning until what seemed like seconds later, Bakugo threw the door open.

"Breakfast time, brat."

"Ugh. You have absolutely no respect for personal space do you? Can't you fucking knock?" He stayed silent, an eyebrow raising as he took in what you were sure was the most decrepit human being he'd ever seen."Are you seriously my dad or something? Who eats at..seven? Seven?"

"You do. Unless you wanna die or something."

"It's up for debate at this point."

"Tch. Get up." You rubbed at your temples in an attempt to get the pain to go away as you sat up. His eyes followed your movement.

"You look shitty."

"Thanks, asshole."

"Did you sleep? Like I told you?" He leaned in the doorway like he actually cared if the answer was no.

"Well, it's possible I got like ten minutes."

"What the fuck? Why?"

"I was having nigtmares. If you're awake, you can't have nightmares."

"Are you serious? You tried to stay up all night?"

"What else was I supposed to do?" He didn't answer, he just rolled his eyes and handed you your crutches impatiently.

"Oh? You're gonna let me use them today?" He glazed right over your comment.

"You had another nightmare?"

"Yeah. I tried so hard to remember any details, but I can't. They just leave me with a vague feeling of dread. I don't know what's going on."

He looked a little lost in thought for a moment. When Bakugo wasn't talking, you could stare at him forever. His hair was even messier than usual; he had to have been flying around all night. His eyes had a look you didn't recognize. What was he thinking about? You didn't have to wonder for long.

"Oi, I'm thinking that the nightmares aren't nightmares at all. It's someone's quirk. But I don't think it's working right on you."

"How so?"

"What good would leaving you with a feeling of knowing what's going on be helpful? It'd be more effective to have you forget everything. You'll never see an attack coming. Something's going on here."

"Okay, well, I 'm going to ignore very simple reasons for why someone's quirk wouldn't quite work right and eat. Hope you don't try to kill me this time." You raised your brows at him as you hobbled out of the door.

“Tch. I hope you like wasabi curry, asshole.”

#bakugouxreader #bnha fic #bakugoxreader #My hero academia

[kmindset]

Grief & Hybrids: Chapter Two

Word Count: 3,319

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Synopsis:  Ready to begin healing from the death of your boyfriend, you become a volunteer at the local hybrid home. When you catch the attention of seven hybrids you begin to open your heart again. But are you ready to move on?

On AO3

“____! Would you mind waking up the felines?”

You nodded.

Two weeks of working here and you have effectively kept your distance from as many male hybrids as possible. Especially the one you encountered in the cafeteria. Happiness at interacting with the felines was growing, however. Personally, you loved all hybrids but easing into this was key. This was only your third day working with the felines but you loved it because you were assigned to female tigers. Typically, all male and female sleeping quarters were separated for many reasons. The main reason being the inevitable pain of their heat. That was a nightmare according to the day manager, Sulji.

“Alana, Naeun.” You called, recognizing the occupied beds of the two older hybrids. Whenever possible you wanted to allow them to sleep as they had a hard time before entering the home.

The familiar black and white ears of Naeun came into view as she slowly rose from the bed, waving sleepily at you as she passed. You slowly approached Alana’s bed not wanting to startle her.

“Unnieeee” you sang.

A deep voice caught you off guard. “I’m not your unnie, now shut up.”

You flung the covers back to reveal a male hybrid looking rather comfy in a bed that was definitely not his. “What are you doing in Alana’s bed?”

He peeked from where he was balled into himself. “If I tell you will you put the covers back?” In response, you flung them fully off of the mattress.

“Ok then.” He sat up with slightly widened eyes and a hint of an amused smile. “Alana was “embraced” yesterday.” He informed you, grumbling “fucking adopted” under his breath.

“That doesn’t explain why you are in the female quarters.”

“It actually does. I fucking hate the male quarters and now there is a free bed in the quiet, better smelling area.’

“Either way you have to get up, they’re cleaning in 5.”

That got him up. “Shit!” He didn’t have to say it for you to know the threat of multiple vacuums was not something he was excited for. You followed behind as the hybrid scurried out.

The way to the cafeteria was quiet, most of the other hybrids already indulging in lunch.

“Why do you hate the male wing?”

He snorted. “Have you not been in there?” He looked over and could tell by the confused look that you hadn’t. “Wait have you actually not?”

You shook your head.

“It’s… too much sometimes.” A thoughtful look painted his features as he contemplated how to explain. “Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful more than I can express for this home. I just…”

“You wish there was somewhere better for you.”

He glanced at you, briefly showing his surprise before looking away. “Yes, exactly. I’ve been to worse places though.”

You wanted him to elaborate however he jogged away to a group of men, one with a familiar tuft of hair that seemed excited to see him.

One more reason to steer clear of the male quarters.

An endless string of curses went through your head as you vigorously scrubbed the wide hybrid home sign. The night before, a small group of people that seemed way too angry about nothing came and trashed the front of the center. Your manager informed you it was most likely a group the volunteers had come in contact with before. The group was known to be outspoken in their distaste for hybrid rights. Often they complained that hybrids should be grouped together with animals in pet stores.They were few in number but worryingly aggressive.

It took what felt like an eternity but once you finished you returned to the building to see a debate already in progress inside the volunteer break room.

“Everyone with a brain to think about other species knows that hybrids can’t be grouped in quarters like this with full blooded animals without risk of further cross species contamination.*

“It sounds like inbreeding and experimentation in one.”

“I don’t understand it all truthfully. They are part animal, seems to me that would be healthy. The poor things are already the result of experiments anyway.”

You made eye contact with Barbara and tried not to roll your eyes. “Sulji, animals and hybrids can interact safely. The problem is similar to why male and female hybrids living quarters are kept separate. Natural instincts take over too heavily making for high risk for either one or sometimes both.”

“Not to mention, most hybrids are more in tune with their human side, not wanting to mate with a full animal or shit wherever. Their animalistic qualities and form are a byproduct of what they are not who they are,” you added.

“Ehh maybe I am old fashioned but animals are animals.”

Another volunteer began to respond but you had had enough. With thirty minutes left on your break, you opted to go to the library. The cleaning crew was finishing up, ensuring no hybrid was there and with Sulji’s ignorance you were sure all working volunteers were engaged in the increasingly intense debate against “old fashioned’ ideas about basic rights. Fun for sure.

You smiled at the last vacuuming janitor as you took a seat behind the first computer. There was nothing you were interested in looking at but the monitor blocked you from view of the entrance, allowing you to drift into your own thoughts without being spotted easily. Five minutes of listening to music, the last janitor was finished. You paused your music and looked around. The library was well organized and thoroughly cleaned but staring long enough you can see signs of aging. The walls were a beautiful muted golden but in the corners and crevices, there were chips and uneven areas where the old color was visible. The most noticeable was the old mural rather poorly covered up behind the volunteer desk. You remember seeing a picture of the mural in its glory days and while it was beautiful it represented the “old fashioned” way of thinking Sulji spoke of. It depicted hybrids as companions but it was clear it was thinking of them as pets, not people. Thirty years outdated for sure.

As you drifted further into your thoughts you had to admit that was part of the reason this place was bittersweet. The love radiating from everyone there created positive energy in every way but there were still reminders of the past. Not only the unequal past of all hybrids but his past. So many things reminded you of what he told you. His early life was heartbreaking. No one deserves to be in a volatile environment. It was beautiful though that despite his situation he still became loving with an affinity for kindness beyond belief. It brought a smile to your face but as you spotted a hybrid rights book you grimaced. The photo on the front of an angry man yelling at a cowering canine hybrid reminded you that no matter how brilliant and warm he was, it was repaid constantly with aggression and prejudice. Even in the end.

There was a whimper. But it didn’t come from you.

It took a moment to realize before you were looking around. You almost didn’t notice the black tail barely sticking out from the computer desk across from you. Carefully, you walked around to see a sad figure huddled into the corner under the desk.

“Are you alright?”

He sniffs and quickly crawls up to where you are kneeling to see him. “Are you?”

For a moment you’re shocked because of course you weren’t but that’s not his concern as you’re there to help all hybrids. With him in better view now, you notice right away he is a beagle. Their increased empathy often made it easy for them to pick up on the emotions of those around them.

“Shouldn’t you be in the cafeteria? Lunch was just put out. Or at the gym? Or anywhere else but under a desk?”

He pouted at his ignored question. “There were too many people in the cafeteria right now and Ms. Kim says I spend too much time in the gym.”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

He was quiet this time, opting to scan your face. You grew insecure under his gaze. “Who was it?”

“Chef Bae I think. Either way, it smells goo-”

“No, who died?”

This time you were dumbfounded. After a moment of silence, you moved to leave but he whimpered again, his ears hanging lower in dejection.

“My boyfriend.” was all your offered before once again escaping the personal questions from strange hybrids.

-

You’d done your best.

After the last interaction with a nosy hybrid, you began helping out more in the kitchen. It was a job you wished you’d taken before. There was minimal interaction with non-volunteers and any opportunity to cook was welcome. Cooking calmed you which is why you were currently enjoying the music you were playing as you prepped ingredients for the day’s next meal. Until you turned around and met face to face with both hybrids of the hybrids you were mainly avoiding.

“You.”

“You remember me!”

“Why are you back here?”

“We got into a fight with an idiot.”

“ You got into a fight. I was having a conversion.” The shorter one corrected.

“No, you were being harassed.”

“Whatever.”

The taller one shook his head. “Either way we were put on food duty as punishment.”

With a hesitant nod, you bit your lip. “Put on a hair net, wash your hands, put on gloves and an apron.”

They stood staring at you for a moment.

“Now!”

The smaller one jumped a bit as they both did as you instructed. Taking on the manager role while Chef Bae was on the phone, you efficiently prepared lunch and avoided conversation with the two.

You could feel them staring at you every now and then along with whispers but you choose not to say anything.

Burning.

Everything and everyone is burning.

He’s somewhere in here but all you see is flames and unbothered neighbors. They sit as if their skin isn’t being charred off. The boiling flesh turning your stomach.

Then you hear his voice. He’s calling your name. Screaming it.

Finally, he is standing in the doorway of your apartment. His back is to you. The soft grey tail a flame and moving towards the top like a lit stick of dynamite.

Part of you doesn’t want to call out in fear of the horrific scene.

Then he calls out your name. But it isn’t right. The voice was demonic and taunting.

“It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream.” You chanted over and over. Eyes shut tight and begging for true consciousness. He was next to you, you could feel him.

“Accept.”

You popped your eyes open.

The next morning, you made an impromptu decision. The whole drive to the Hybrid Home was a blur as you spent the entire time thinking about your decision and trying not to think anymore about your dream.

Nothing was going to stop you from quitting. Until you saw the fire trucks. For a moment, it spooked you. The intense fear of still being in that horrible nightmare sped up your heart rate. Thankfully you were awake but unfortunately, that meant the lost looking hybrids in the street were real.

The road was littered with overnight and morning volunteers trying to comfort scared hybrids. You parked at the playground across the street. After a few minutes of search, you approached panic-stricken Sulji and Barbara speaking with whom you assume to be the fire captain.

“______!” Barbara’s panicked eyes found some relief in spotting you.

“What in the hell is happening?” The question seemed obvious in a way but you wanted something specific. The whole damn home was in the road.

“Someone started a fire in the male wing.”

“One of the hybrids?”

She shook head. “One of those anti group jerks. They think he didn’t mean to do this much damage but regardless it’s a mess.”

She informed you the whole home is burned to different extents. Parts are nothing but ashes others are only singed.

Sulji and Barbara gathered some of you who were not tending to the hybrids. ” ”We have just been informed the building is uninhabitable. Thankfully there is a hybrid shelter nearby able to help. The only problem is, it is a female shelter. They are willing to take all misplaced females but males are another story.”

Worried gasps sounded from the crowd. “What about the male shelter in Gwangju?”

“We can possibly arrange for travel for some but not all. We will still have about 20-25 hybrids displaced. That number is being very optimistic.”

Barbara spoke up. “We will be moving next door for an emergency embrace event. Some of you will go back with the females to inform them of the move. They are still going to be involved in the embrace event as we need to thin out our numbers. They are encouraged to stay together while we organize.”

Everyone nodded along in understanding. “The news is running the incident as we speak and asking for temporary volunteers and families willing to adopt or at the very least foster any of them.”

Sulji cleared her throat. “With that being said if any of you have room please considering taking in some of them.” It was silent but you couldn’t blame them. Many of your fellow volunteers were single parents needing this job, though low paid, with no time, money, or room to foster. Others were financially not able to do so.

Sulji nodded somberly. “Ok then. We need to begin setting up in the rec center.”

The small crowd breaks to get into action.

You get swept up in the chaos not long after. People in every direction. It isn’t helping your anxiety but the sympathy for the now homeless hybrids keeps you grounded.

Something crashes behind you. You whip around to see a tall man with fluffy ears almost blended into his brown hair. He is trying to set the water bottles he knocked down right side up until another volunteer tells him to leave. The tall man tries to get a water bottle but the volunteer smacks his hands and points for him to leave. As he walks away, she notices you staring. “The hybrid of destruction strikes again.”

The snort she lets out hints at a joke you clearly aren’t in on. Either way, you feel bad for the man.

Soon the adoption event is in full swing. All hybrids mingled with families and one another. Some opted to play amongst themselves. Two of which you noticed were the two you saw many times. It wasn’t until their “playing” got too rough that you interfered.

“It’s you!” the one with pouty lips spoke excitedly. You made a noise in confirmation, taking the chance to look at the hybrid ID tag to finally see his name.

“We know we won’t be fostered. It’s better to not get our hopes.” Taehyung spoke matter-a-factly. His words didn’t appear to have much emotion, but Jimin deflated a bit at the statement.

“Do you feel the same, Jimin?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know but if Taehyung isn’t there I won’t go anyway.”

You frowned at their somber words. There was so little hope in them. A nagging feeling began to grow. They didn’t mind as during your internal emotional battle Taehyung roughly hit Jimin’s shoulder and took off. The smaller male took off behind him.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth nervously as you eased over to the outgoing form and wrote down both names.

The nagging feeling ceased but a wave of anxiety threatened your sanity. Thankfully, a fellow volunteer asked you for a hand with the snacks.

Not long after, the feelings were pushed down momentarily to focus on the matter at hand. This was working until you went in search of a janitor. A younger hybrid came with a family interested in helping out but was spooked by the activity. He had an accident. You assured him gently you would find someone to clean it while the family apologized. You spotted the janitor coming from the supply closet. “Ma’am! There was a little accident on the court.”

She nodded mop already in hand. “Can you reach that spray bottle for me, love?”

You looked to where she pointed. It was a higher shelf but not too high for you. You paused for a moment then handed the bottle to her and waited for her to walk away before turning back to the closet. “Come out.”

“No.”

You felt his presence before you even spotted the cat eyes. You weren’t sure if he would be chastised for being in there so you didn’t inform the janitor.

“How did you know? She didn’t even glance my way.” The dark-haired feline emerged from the darkness of the corner.

“I have experience with a hybrid wanting to hide.”

He examined your face. From the look on his own, he found the answer to the question in his head but kept it to himself. “Ignoring the overwhelming aroma of cleaning products, this was the only place to get away from everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“ Everyone .”

You smiled, holding back a laugh and he looked as though he was doing the same. Though his smile was smaller and gone much quicker you felt something. An understanding of disdain for a crowd and the mix of people in it made you feel like you feel mutually accepted. With a small wave of your hand, you ushered him back to his corner, sure to catch the name on his ID tag you did. “I’ll bring you a snack. Maybe it will make the smells more tolerable.”

“Doubt it.” he scoffed but you could see another smile as you closed the door. You turned away to get him a snack.

And write his name down.

To your surprise, the community showed up in aspiring numbers. Many came to help with the event and transportation while many took advantage of the embrace opportunity.

Typically, home and background checks were done to ensure the safety of the hybrids however Barbara informed all embracers that an inspection and evaluation would be done a week from the event “When we have our bearings.” she had stated exasperatingly. The outpour of support helped thin the number of misplaced hybrids.

“The list of secured hybrids was much longer than expected,” Barbara announced happily at the end of the day. All volunteers and remained hybrids were crowded around. The volunteers all appeared worn out but proud. Some of the hybrids appeared sad while others couldn’t care less. A chunk of them were waiting to be transferred to the partnering shelter. Some were already on the way there but there wasn’t room for everyone. “Although, I see Taehyung, Jimin, and Yoongi‘s names written but they are still here.”

A stiff silence fell. Four long seconds pass before you bashfully speak up. “That was my doing. I can foster them for the time being.”

You dare not look at the men as you could feel their shocked gazes.

“Oh, that's wonderful! That only leaves these four.”

You don’t really want to but something keeps pushing you, the nagging feeling from earlier. The words tumble out before you can catch them. ”I have room for them.”

Barbara is taken aback. “Really?”

You nod reluctantly. “My home was originally built for a nine-person family. They will have to share rooms but nothing too crowded.”

Sulji spoke up. “____, that is truly amazing! Of course with your number embraced we will make your inspection priority as a precaution for them but until then thank you!”

An absentminded nod was all you could give. The true reality of your charitable act not hitting you until everyone else dispersed and only seven pairs of eyes remained on you.

#poly bts #hybrid bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst

[nancypullen]

A Tuesday in June

It’s starting to feel like summer around here and I have mixed feelings about that.  I love the growing season but knowing that oppressive heat is on the way fills me with dread.  No, dread is too strong of a word.  We’ll just say that I’m not looking forward to sizzling days that cause me to sweat in places that shouldn’t sweat.  I don’t like feeling drippy.  On the other hand, hummingbirds, fireflies, the scent of magnolia drifting across the front porch. It might be a fair trade.  The full Strawberry Moon is due in a couple of days and Mother Nature is taking care of business. No matter what insanity humans are busy inflicting on each other, seasons still change, seeds sprout, and nests are built.  Time marches right on. I went out to pull a few weeds today and spied some healthy looking baby tomatoes. Crossing my fingers for a bumper crop.

It was sweaty work, but there was just enough of a breeze rippling over the lavender to send the fragrance my way, so it made the chore a bit more pleasant.

We managed to get the deck stained yesterday.  We did all of the small work and top rails in the morning before Mickey went off to work, 

then finished the steps and floor after 6 o’clock when he finished his last call.   By the time rinsed the brushes it had been agreed upon that we’d take quick showers and just order Chinese for dinner.  Talk about a perfect day!  We haven’t moved any furniture back onto the deck just yet, we’ll give it another day.  I snapped this right after we finished, the painter’s tape was still at the tops and bottoms of the rungs, but it already looks better.

I’ve seen a couple of spots that I may touch up, but my general feeling is, “See ya’ in the fall, paint brush!”  Home improvement projects and summer weather don’t mix. Speaking of summer weather, I received a message that water aerobics will be back in session.  I’m not sure how I feel about that.  Gosh, it would feel so good to be in the pool and enjoy the sunshine and get some exercise.  I just don’t know that it’s possible to practice safe pandemic behavior while everyone is bouncing around, huffing and puffing.  Besides, the odds are pretty good that the majority of attendees still think this is all just a hoax to make Trump look bad.  Like he needs any help.  As much as I’d love to go, I think I’ll have to sit back and see if it turns into a petri dish over there.  Maybe I need to put a blow up pool in the yard and just enjoy that.  I’ve got nothing new to say, the days all run together and I’m either pulling weeds, cooking meals, or looking for new dead people.  I finished the card about conjugal visits -

Look at that crooked ribbon. Dang it.  Maybe the recipient won’t notice. And again, I apologize if any of her relatives should ever see that card. I’m sure your MeMaw was a lovely person (and I hope she had a sense of humor). I’ve been reading A LOT. I just finished a book that I thoroughly enjoyed, Giver of Stars by JoJo Moyes.  It’s fiction based on some very interesting history. The women in the book were Packhorse Librarians, part of a fascinating program. Their horses splashed through iced-over creeks. Librarians rode up into the Kentucky mountains, their saddlebags stuffed with books, doling out reading material to isolated rural people. The Great Depression had plunged the nation into poverty, and Kentucky—a poor state made even poorer by a paralyzed national economy—was among the hardest hit.The Pack Horse Library initiative, which sent librarians deep into Appalachia, was one of the New Deal’s most unique plans. The project, as implemented by the Works Progress Administration (WPA), distributed reading material to the people who lived in the craggy, 10,000-square-mile portion of eastern Kentucky. The state already trailed its neighbors in electricity and highways. And during the Depression, food, education and economic opportunity were even scarcer for Appalachians. They also lacked books: In 1930, up to 31 percent of people in eastern Kentucky couldn’t read. Residents wanted to learn, notes historian Donald C. Boyd. Coal and railroads, poised to industrialize eastern Kentucky, loomed large in the minds of many Appalachians who were ready to take part in the hoped prosperity that would bring. "Workers viewed the sudden economic changes as a threat to their survival and literacy as a means of escape from a vicious economic trap," writes Boyd. This presented a challenge: In 1935, Kentucky only circulated one book per capita compared to the American Library Association standard of five to ten, writes historian Jeanne Cannella Schmitzer,. It was "a distressing picture of library conditions and needs in Kentucky," wrote Lena Nofcier, who chaired library services for the Kentucky Congress of Parents and Teachers at the time.   That’s an excerpt from this article in Smithsonian Magazine:

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/horse-riding-librarians-were-great-depression-bookmobiles-180963786/?fbclid=IwAR2jsMSNabwlpbjwQpgo_mSv3uc1xp1iF07NH59Zir2bgkJbo0QCTcFk2hM It’s worth a read. The women who were determined to get books into the hands of the people of Appalachian Kentucky were nothing short of amazing. Going off on horseback, alone, into places where they weren’t always viewed favorably, exposed to the elements, wildlife, SNAKES, moonshiners, and treacherous trails because they believed so much in the mission of literacy.  The book that I read, Giver of Stars, was a wonderful tale and I highly recommend it.  I picked up a Kindle copy from my library (using Overdrive). Getcha’ one. That’s about it.  We’re chugging along, doing our best to have a little fun while staying safe. Lots of projects, lots of reading, too much food.  Like everyone else we’re just marking time and looking forward to brighter days.  Keep going, folks. We can do this!  Adopt the pace of Mother Nature, nothing before its time. Stay well, stay safe, and treat yourself now & then.  You deserve it. XOXO - Nancy