#such a shithole but its my shithole <3 miss it so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crsjunkyard · 3 years

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January Embers (Part 1)

A nice little multi-chapter wintertime fic so we can all cuddle and feed Viktor.

The Sun Also Rises Series (ao3), Momentous Beginnings, A Study In Pink, January Embers (1), (2), (3), (4)

Length: 4k

Summary: The coming winter poses new challenges for you and Viktor. Will they bring you closer together or tear you apart?

Chapter 1: Nothing Burns Like the Cold

A chilling cold snap descended upon the city, heralding the upcoming winter.

Frost clung to the dark brick buildings, glazing over their high windows like icing. A heavy fog hung low, bearing down on the narrow streets and casting the Academy District in an ethereal shroud.

Winter, in Viktor's opinion, was the worst season of all.

A permanent chill seemed to settle in his bones, unshakeable until the thaw of spring turned to the warmth of summer. The muscles in his bad leg grew even tighter, making occasional aches and spasms a regular occurrence.

The proverbial cherry on top, was you. Your grin had dimmed. Dark bags took up permanent residence under your eyes. More than once he’d look in your direction during the day to see you dozing off into the crook of your elbow.

Today you had fallen asleep entirely.

What was it? he pondered, that kept your attention so late into the night.

It was dark when he waved Jayce off for the night, assuring he would wake you and make sure you got home safely. Viktor was loath to disturb your slumber, but any longer in that position and you were sure to have a terrible kink in your neck.

Crouching down as best he could, sore tendons protesting along the way, he gently shook your shoulder.

“Time to wake up,” he whispered softly. “Come on, my little solnishko, it is very late.”

You began to stir, letting out sleepy noises of protest. He adored the disgruntled expression that tugged at your features as you woke.

“Mmm, no- just a few more minutes, s’too early to get up.”

He looked down fondly as you finally cracked an eye, meeting his gaze with a childlike pout. “I fell asleep again, didn’t I?” you asked.

“It would seem so,” Viktor said impassively, watching you roll your stiff joints.

“Sorry, I really need to catch up on some sleep, the bakery’s been so busy with the winter fete coming up.”

Sure, the bakery was slammed, but it didn’t keep you from sleeping, not more than usual at least. No, it was the frigid conditions that kept you awake.

“Your exhaustion, it- worries me,” his accent was thick with emotion. “I know something has been keeping you from sleep.”

Viktor tried to choose his next words carefully.

“I want you to know, if you ever wish to spend the day resting, instead of here, Jayce and I will miss you of course- but we will manage just fine.”

“No!” you protested, spending more time at home was the last thing you’d wanted to do. “Sorry, it’s just that- being here is my favorite part of the day.”

You looked down, uncharacteristically shy after the vulnerability of your admission.

“Then perhaps we should bring a cot to the lab, that way you can at least rest comfortably,” he teased, hoping to bring a smile to your face.

“Hmm- that’s a dangerous offer.” It really is.

Things hadn’t always been this bad, you used to love that little basement room. It was the first place that had been yours, that you’d allowed yourself to feel safe in. You remember when the baker handed the keys over, happily saying the room was all yours if it meant you could take over the opening shifts.

It was supposed to be a stepping stone, a foothold into Piltover, a path forward to a better life. Now you saw it for what it really was, a shithole.

Your decrepit heating system was on its last legs. The final straw came about a week ago, when you woke one morning to see clouds of breath puffing in front of your face.

You didn’t see much of the baker anymore, only to collect your pay or receive the occasional compliment on how well business was doing. But you’d finally had enough, seeking him out to let him know something needed to be done about the heating.

In lieu of purchasing a new unit, he had some repairs made to the older one. Making it clear that you were more than welcome to have a new one installed on your own, but he wouldn’t be financing it.

It was tolerable enough, at first. But in no time the thing began turning on and off without reason, sputtering and creaking ominously. You’d thought about asking Viktor or Jayce to fix it, ultimately against it, they’d worry too much anyway.

More blankets, that’s all, I’ll get more blankets, you told yourself, quickly collecting your things.

“It’s very late, let me accompany you home,” Viktor's tone left little room for argument, as if that would work on you.

“Oh no you don’t need to go to the trouble, I’ll be fine,” you brushed him off casually.

He wasn’t having it, “For you, it is no trouble, please I insist.”

You grimaced, knowing you couldn’t avoid your place forever but not ready for now to be the day Viktor realized you lived in a hovel. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, you did. You knew Viktor wouldn’t pass judgement or look down on you. No, he would worry, and you hated the thought of being a burden on his mind.

“What if I walk you home instead?” you offered, flashing a melancholy grin.

He stepped forward into your space, amber eyes dark and serious.

“What is it that you are afraid of?” he asked quietly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

You caught his hand before it lowered, clasping it gently into your own. I suppose now is as good a time as any. “I don’t exactly have a- well a home- I guess it’s technically my home, which is good enough for me.”

One look at Viktors concerned face and you folded.

“I live in the bakery okay, the owner lets me stay in the basement for free.”

“The.. basement,” he said dumbly, still processing your confession.

“It’s really fine, I’ve been there since I left the undercity to become an apprentice. Every couple of months I’d look around for something better but it was all too expensive” you tried to shrug casually, knowing it looked awkward and forced.

“Eventually I guess I just stopped looking?”

He felt the beginnings of frustration set in, you had been sleeping in a basement? While he had a perfectly good, if not somewhat dusty, apartment?

“But you wished to keep this from m- from us?” Viktor belatedly realized he had no right to expect you to share more than you were comfortable with, especially about your living situation.

“It’s just- I’ve never had anyone over.” you weighed your next words cautiously. “I’ve never really had anyone I wanted to come over, that is, until now- until you.”

Oh. Sometimes it was easy to forget that you were just as new to this as he was. You were so warm, so inviting, you made it look so simple. He needed to remind himself, you had fears and insecurities of your own.

“When you are ready,” he cupped your cheek gently. “I would be honored to be your first guest.”

Viktor leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

You stretched onto the tips of your toes, arms wrapping around his slender neck to whisper softly in his ear. “Thank you, for understanding.”

*******

Something was… burning? Did I leave the oven on upstairs?

You were groggy, it must’ve been the early hours of the morning when you’d finally succumbed to exhaustion. You remember being miserably cold, even swaddled under a mountain of blankets. But now, oddly enough, you were sweating.

Did somebody leave the curtains open? Was it sunrise already?

Your stomach dropped. All traces of grogginess gone, you shot out of bed, horrified by the scene around you. Flames, licking up the walls, spanning across parts of the ceiling, and rapidly making their way to the rickety wooden stairs.

Smoke swirled in thick clouds through the confined room. Coughing violently you made a mad dash for the stairway, once it was gone so were your chances of survival.

You thought of Viktor. When you didn’t show up tomorrow would he think you were running late, or maybe you’d taken his advice and gotten a little extra sleep? Only to find out you had been roasted alive.

You had to get out.

Bolting up the steps two at a time, you swiftly reached the upstairs landing, slamming the door violently. Fingers numb you rushed to the tubes, alerting emergency services.

The next hour was a blur.

The fire brigade arrived quickly, extinguishing the flames with ease. It was the faulty heater that had started the blaze, surprise, surprise. After determining there was no structural damage compromising the integrity of the building, they left.

You vaguely remember someone telling you it wasn’t advisable to go down in the basement for a day or so, something about smoke and fumes. Of course, they didn’t realize that was where you lived. You’d mumbled a halfhearted story about being there late to check on the bread. They must’ve been ready to head home themselves because nobody questioned your nor your disheveled appearance. Thank gods the baker was on holiday, probably somewhere warm and sunny you thought bitterly.

You didn’t care. You were cold, miserable, and exhausted. All you wanted was Viktor.

*******

A slow staccato of knocks pulled Viktor out of bed. What time is it? Somebody must have the wrong door. He rolled over, hoping whoever it was would realize they were barking up the wrong tree.

The knocks stopped, and for a blessedly quiet moment he thought he’d be left to sleep in peace. Until they started up again, this time louder.

Storming out of bed he unlatched the lock, ready to tell off some drunk academy student for pounding at his door in the middle of the night. His jaw dropped at the sight in front of him, it was... you.

Standing there, looking half frozen to death. You wore thin pajamas, stained with… was that soot? Your feet were clad in waterlogged socks that steadily dripped onto the floor.

It must’ve begun snowing outside because there was a smattering of slowly melting flakes covering your hair and lashes. They’d soaked into your clothes, making the silky fabric stick stiffly to your body.

He reached out to you, tugging you into his apartment. Your skin was like ice under his fingertips, and you hissed in discomfort at the warmth of his palm.

“S- s-sorry,” you croaked quietly, shivering as you spoke.

“Shhh, no no- we’re going to get you warmed up okay,” Viktor soothed, raising your temperature was his number one priority, explanations could come later.

Hurrying around the room he gathered blankets and towels, before standing in front of you with a pinched expression. Your clothes were soaked, practically frozen to your body, they needed to come off if you were ever going to get warm.

“Before, uhm- before we can warm you up, we need to get you dry- can you take off those wet clothes for me?” he asked in a strained voice. “I promise not to look.”

He averted his gaze, wanting to remain close in case you fainted or stumbled.

You didn’t respond, instead reaching for the front of your sleep shirt. Your movements were sluggish, fingers shaking so hard you couldn't get the button undone. Frustrated, you tried just pulling the damn thing over your head, but your arms were numb and uncooperative.

Viktor saw you struggling from his periphery and he began to lose patience, growing increasingly alarmed by the blueness of your lips.

“May I?”

You nodded, stuttering out an appreciative yes as shivers wracked your frame.

Deft fingers made quick work of your top, pushing it from your shoulders to the floor, all the while Viktor maintained eye-contact.

His face remained locked on yours as he knelt to the ground at your feet, gently peeling your bottoms down. The soft pads of his fingers skimmed your bare thighs, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. You grasped his shoulders for balance, unsteadily stepping out of the ruined pants.

He hastily wrapped a soft blanket around your naked body, layering it with a few more for good measure.

“Here, let me help you,” he maneuvered your numb frame into his bed, sheets still warm to the touch. “I’m going to run you a bath, and then- we are going to talk.”

The distance would give him a chance to breathe, to collect his thoughts.

Tucked in the corner of the bathroom sat a rarely used porcelain tub, he preferred the expediency of showering, but was grateful to have it now. Flicking on the tap to a comfortable temperature, he rummaged around on the shelf, looking for that old bottle of bath oil he knew was here somewhere. Aha.

Seeing you like this had pushed him precariously towards a snapping point, something was fraying inside him. Viktor had a carefully crafted persona, one that normally insulated him from emotional extremes. He didn’t have close relationships, he rarely offered up personal information, and he never lost control of his temper.

He learned a long time ago that when you couldn't control your circumstances, controlling your reactions became that much more important

But it was getting harder every day. Cracks started splintering along his walls, first with Jayce and now you. He couldn't control his emotions, couldn't compartmentalize or rationalize. He wasn’t used to feeling so raw, it was overwhelming.

And now he had a completely new and horrifying realization to tangle with. Viktor spent so much time worrying about you leaving, he never stopped to wonder what if something happened to you.

What on earth could have possessed you to walk all that way through the ice and snow, in the middle of the night, wearing only your pajamas. Did someone hurt you? Were you running from something?

The thought sent his blood into a boil. If someone hurt you- he would make them pay. It should scare him, how willingly he would inflict pain on anyone who dared touch a hair on your head. But he was beginning to understand, perhaps the most precious things in life were worth protecting until the bitter end.

Ah, the baths filled, I suppose that’s my cue.

Returning to the main room Viktor found you trembling violently, still under a mass of blankets. He reached forward unthinkingly, hoping your skin had begun to retain a modicum of warmth, but it was still much too chilled for his liking.

Ooh that feels good, you leaned into Viktor’s palm, chasing the heat of his skin. He noticed your enjoyment, pressing a little more firmly.

“Mmm, you’re warm” you purred, nuzzling into him happily.

“No, you are just very cold,” he sighed in exasperation.

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

Ah- cheeky, you must be feeling better.

“I’ve drawn you a bath, but I fear the sudden temperature change may send your system into shock.”

“But a bath sounds so nice,” you stuttered longingly.

“We just need to wait a little longer, till your body isn’t so far below it’s normal ambience.”

“Yeah, I got it,” you grumbled. “It’s just so cold.” Now that your extremities weren’t completely numb, the late night stroll through the snow was catching up with you. Painful pins and needles ran through your body at regular intervals, like icepicks shredding your muscles. Viktor watched your expression tighten in discomfort, feeling altogether useless.

“There’s a way- I mean that is if you’re comfortable- of course you’ll be fine either way this just might speed things up.”

“Spit it out Viktor,” he was rambling.

“Body heat, skin to skin contact.” Oh.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I mean- if it would be uncomfortable for you to-” Great, now I’m rambling. You knew, if your body was physically able, a blush would be spreading across your cheeks.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

You searched his eyes for any hesitation, finding nothing but burning sincerity.

“Then by the gods get over here, I think I’m about to lose a toe.” He huffed a laugh, amazed at how quickly you could turn the mood.

Fumbling with his sleep shirt, Viktor pulled it off his shoulders before tossing it to join your own on the floor. The bottoms, he decided, would stay on. Now he hovered by the bed, wearing nothing but a thin pair of cotton pants.

Even with the heating system cranked to its max, the air still felt cool against his bare chest. Viktor watched your eyes roam over his form, suppressing the urge to cover himself. If he felt exposed, how must you feel?

Completely naked.. swaddled in his sheets… lying in his bed.

Something fierce preened in his chest, you trusted him. He could do this, he would take care of you. Looking down at your burrow, he couldn’t help but smile. You looked exhausted, dark bags under your eyes- hair damp and frizzed, creating a wild halo around your face. But still with that little grin, that little spark in your eyes that only ignited for him.

Lifting the blanket's corner, he slid underneath, immediately assaulted by your icy skin.

“You are an icicle,” he hissed. “Come here, you’re even colder than I realized.”

His arms opened in invitation and you gladly slid closer. A distant part of you was reminded of your nudity, of how many lines of propriety this must be crossing. But you silenced it in favor of snuggling up to the delicious warmth of Viktor's soft skin.

You soaked in his heat, wrapping your arms around his torso- tucking your hands under his back- even tangling your legs around his. Once you were satisfied that maximal contact had been achieved, your head settled into the juncture of his neck. Feeling him gulp as the tip of your nose caressed his adams apple.

No matter what happened after tonight, Viktor knew one thing- he would never forget the feel of your bare chest pressed against his own.

“I know we need to talk,” your breath tickled the hollow of his throat.

“We most certainly do,” his resolve weakened.

“Could we do it tomorrow, I don’t think I can stay awake?”

How could he deny you? When you were curled around him, sounding so sleepy and sweet.

“Of course,” he murmured into your hair, Why does she smell like smoke? He supposed that would be tomorrow's problem. For now, the both of you would sleep.

*******

#viktor x reader #arcane

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hops-hunny · 3 years

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College Girls

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: anon “How about Rodrick invites the reader to a party (he’s been crushing on her for the longest) but she plays hard to get and at the party her friends try to convince her to give him a chance and later it leads to them playing 7 minutes in heaven and they confess to each other and it goes from there ;) it could end in smut or fluff your way ly <3”

Summary: (college!au) College girls and their games, good thing Rodrick loves to play.

Warnings: Mentions of weed and alcohol, making out, teasing

A/N: Ok I forgot to make them confess but it’s implied sorry anon. I still hope you enjoy it!

If there was one thing Rodrick knew, college was a shit ton different than high school was. However, that wasn’t a bad thing. Unlimited booze and bud, hot chicks, and parties that never ended? He was practically in heaven! He had grown into himself, feeling more confident than ever since Heather had rejected him his senior year. In fact, he couldn’t recall the last time he thought about her but if he had to pinpoint it, it was a few months ago when she had hit him up, begging the boy to give her a chance. Oh the irony behind that. That was another good thing about college. In high school, all the girls thought he was just some loser who wasted too much time on a band that would always be shit.

But with years of experience under their belt and more free time to practice, Löaded Diaper was beginning to become a big deal in their rinky dink shithole off a small town. God was he glad too because with clout, also came hot girls in skirts that barely covered their ass. The opportunity for endless amounts of hookups was an absolute dream come true, but all dreams lose their shine eventually. When fucking became a mere thing to pass the time between class, gigs, and parties, he realized that it wasn’t as great as he thought it was. He was starting to crave something more, something like or, someone like- her.

God she was a babe. Rodrick still remembered the first time he saw her. Löaded Diaper was doing another house gig, everyone in the crowd dancing and moving to the intense music. And all of a sudden, a strobe light glossed over her perfectly, almost like a halo of blue light and his eyes were hooked. She was there with her friends, one of them whispering something in her ear which caused her to lock eyes with his. Pretty (e/c) eyes meeting his own brown ones. It was almost perfect, almost. As soon as they had finished the last note of their song, without missing a beat she swiftly made her exit and he made his way after her. Rodrick jumped off the stage, chasing after her and her friends all the way till they reached the curb. He grabbed her arm causing the girl to look back.

“Hey, uh, did you enjoy the gig?” He asked, running his fingers through his sweaty hair nervously. He felt his nerves rise even more at the sound of her friends’ giggles.

“I wouldn’t have stayed the whole gig if I didn’t, would I?” she retorted, rolling her eyes as she began to open the passenger door of the black mercedes.

“Yeah, I guess that was a dumb question..” he trailed off as she closed her door. His eyes widened at the fact he hadn’t gotten her name prompting him to take off after the car. He felt relieved as the girl rolled down her window, looking up at him through her thin framed sunglasses. “Wait! I didn’t get your name, I’m Rodrick.” he smirked, watching as she pulled her sunglasses up to rest on the top of her head.

“Didn’t give it.” she quipped, sending him a wink as her friend took off into the distance. Who was she? All he knew about her was that she had a mouth on her and lived on the other side of campus. A lot of girl’s fit that description so it wasn’t easy asking around about her. However, as he stood here in the corner of the party his fraternity was throwing, he’d recognize a pair of nice legs like that from anywhere. His eyes took in her appearance. She had on a denim mini skirt, black turtleneck and a pair of knee high boots that matched. The boy had to practically stop himself from gawking at how good she looked, curves clinging to every bit of the form fitting outfit. He cleared his throat as his friend nudged him, looking to see what he wanted.

“Uh don’t look now, but I think that girl you were eye fucking is definitely eye fucking you back dude. Is that the chick from the gig a few weeks ago that you won’t shut up about?" Rodrick glared at the man, shoving him into the wall before walking towards her. He watched as her friends “coincidentally” all began to head off in other directions, leaving her to offer him a flirty little smile behind the drink she’d been nursing.

“Well if it isn’t the little drummer boy! To what do I owe the pleasure, Rodrick?” she purred, sitting down her now empty cup. She stepped forward, leaving them to be pressed chest to chest. It could easily be blamed on the crowded room but the two knew otherwise. He smirked back at her, wrapping his arms around her waist securely.

“I’m a simple man. I see a pretty girl sending looks my way, I come.” his eyes widened as he began to overthink his word choice. “N-not like that! Like I come over not like cum in my pants. I-I’m not like some virgin...well I’m not some man whore either! I don’t fuck around a lot. Not like the option isn’t there bu-” he quit his nervous ramblings at the sound of her laughter. He relaxed, smiling as the girl wrapped his arms around her neck. He began to lean in thinking she would ask him for a kiss but instead she missed his lips, putting hers next to his ear before whispering,

“Wanna dance?” Before he could answer, the girl (who’s name he still didn’t catch) was dragging him to the dance floor, moving his hands to rest on her hips. He tried to keep his movements as fluid as possible. It took him a bit but eventually his movements matched hers, as they swayed to the beat of the song. She pressed her head against his shoulder, looking up at him as she continued the movements against his pelvic area. “I love this song, it’s one of my favorites.” she whispered. He didn’t know if it was because he was cross faded or his enjoyment of the movements but D’Evils by SiR was beginning to become one of his favorite songs too. How could it not when there was such a pretty girl pressed against his front?

“Yeah? It suits you.” he muttered, leaning his head down to hover his own chapped lips above the girl’s soft gloss covered ones. She hummed in agreement, both of them slowly inching towards each other before she stopped, letting out a cheeky giggle.

“Did you really think I was going to kiss you that easily? You’ve gotta earn it.” She said, dragging a manicured hand against the skin of his neck. He shivered a bit as goosebumps formed, watching as she disappeared back into the crowd. He swore some, groaning as he fiddled with the growing bulge in his jeans. Was he out of the game for too long or had girls always been this hard to get? Either way, he didn’t care. Rodrick was gonna get this girl and her name by the end of the night if it was the last thing he ever did. He broke out of his thoughts, keeping sight of her figure making its way through the beaded curtain which led to the basement of the large frat house. Quickly he chased after her, trying to keep up with her. And, as if on purpose, every time he’d get close she’d flash him that breathtaking smile and continue on her path. Finally, she reached her supposed destination, a small group of people on couches, discussing the plans to play something.

“So, what’s the game?” He asked, causing everyone to look up at him as he sat on the couch farthest from her. He looked at the bottle in the center of the table, proud of himself and his seating choice. The further he was away, the more likely the bottle was to land on the pretty thing across from him.

“7 minutes in heaven. You down?” A brunette girl asked, a flirty look in her buzzed eyes. He ignored her small attempt at an advance, nodding as he locked eyes with the girl of the hour. He shot her a wink, smirking as she rolled her eyes, biting her lip to hide the smile that was making its way onto her face. For someone so adamant about playing this game of cat and mouse, she seemed to be fighting off her feelings very harshly. None of that mattered now though. If there was a god, he hoped he’d be on his side. Never had he wanted to be stuffed inside a muggy dark closet with someone so badly.

“Of course I’m down. Do I look like a pussy to you?” he asked, watching as the (h/c) haired girl opened her mouth. He gave her a pointed look, tilting his head at her. “Don’t answer that, legs.” The girl looked surprised at the nickname but didn’t say anything, trailing her acrylic nails up the curve of her thigh. His brown eyes followed curiously, jumping slightly as she closed her legs quickly giving him a mocking pout. Tonight was going to be a long night.

-------------------------------------------------

Round after round was filled with surprises, none involving Rodrick or the mystery girl of his affections. Sometimes, the two people involved would cheer or jump up excitedly, ceasing the moment that they were desperately waiting for. Other times they would groan in disgust and hell, he couldn’t blame him with the hygiene of some of these people. Have they ever even heard of a shower, deodorant? Only their BO could tell. However, his odds grew more and more as it was finally his turn to spin the bottle. He picked it up, kissing the empty beer bottle as he made up some prayer. He let out a deep breath before spinning the bottle. As he watched it spin, the only thought he could seem to form was, ‘Please, please please. Cmon, cmon, cmon!’

Finally the bottle began to halt, making a rumbling noise as it stopped. His eyes followed the nose of it, letting out an internal cheer as his eyes met the (e/c) eyes from across from him. He pulled up his jeans before walking over to the girl, holding a hand out to her. She eyed it before smirking up at him, allowing her to pull him up. Rodrick looked down at her hand before tangling his fingers with her own, pulling her towards the closet. Once they both were in there, silence overcame them leaving the muffled music from upstairs to be the filler between silent space. He cleared his throat some, catching the shorter girl’s attention.

“Sooo, um. Would this count as earning it?” He quipped, giving her a flirty grin. The girl rolled her eyes before moving closer to him, pulling him down to her own height as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Rodrick wasted no time, pulling the girl by her hips and planting his on hers. The kiss was everything he’d hope it’d be. Passionate, hot, and filled with every bit of desire that had built up over the course of the party. He nibbled at her lip, causing a moan to slip from her lips. He smirked a bit, pulling away some to look into her eyes a bit.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting you to be a good kisser. You looked like you would give me a lot of teeth and too much tongue.” she giggled some, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it. He rolled his eyes, smirking as he leaned in, nibbling on her neck a bit. He felt victory overcome him at the soft whimper that came from her lips.

“My pride’s a bit wounded, princess.” he purred, lifting her up as he pinned her against the wall. He leaned back in for another kiss, this one more deep and intense than the last. He groaned softly as she tangled her fingers in his hair, gripping at it slightly. He slid his tongue over her bottom lip, quickly tangling it with hers when she opened her mouth. They’re tongues danced a bit, fighting for dominance before he won. He absorbed her moans, sucking on her tongue as he slid a hand under her skirt, stroking the skin of her upper thighs. Rodrick noted how soft her skin was before gripping at it harshly, stroking her hips with his thumbs.

Just as he slid his hands under her shirt, a knock broke them out of their kiss. He groaned in annoyance, pulling away and fixing her clothes for her as the door was ripped open. The (e/c) eyed girl was the first to walk out, looking back at him as if she had something to say.

“(Y/n).” she said, causing him to look at her in confusion. “My name? It’s (Y/n). I hope this isn’t a habit of yours, making out with girls whose names you don’t even know.” she said, looking up at him expectantly. His mouth opened and closed as he stuttered, searching for the words to say. He cleared his throat before grabbing her hand, beginning the path to his own room.

“Not anymore it isn’t.”

#rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick x y/n #rodrick x you #rodrick heffley imagine

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rodeo-boots · 3 years

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hello my dear! i was hoping if i could request some charthur! in many fics i see arthur constantly being comforted by charles, but never the other way around... so many, you could write charles returning back to camp injured/tired, and arthur has to care for him for the night? 🥺 i would love to see some trans!charles as well, but i won't ask for too much... nsfw is welcome, and as always, feel free to let your wonderful brain work its magic with any other ideas you have <3

Thank you so much for your request hny, I hope I did your idea justice <3

Rating: Teen and Up

Words: 3122

Warnings: mild gore, angst

AO3

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Beaver Hollow was a shithole. The air was humid and dense, the mood at camp even lower than the temperatures could get during the nights. Arthur positively hated it, wished they had another choice but to take camp at such a spot. Breathing was getting harder for him by the day and some nights, he rode out only to take a deep breath of fresh air in the wide open meadows elsewhere.

He much preferred being anywhere but at camp, preferred to be far far away from Dutch and Micah, from those friends of his – whatever they might be called. These days, he couldn't even exchange a proper word with Javier or Bill anymore, met with stubborn phrases of loyalty whenever he dared to cross their paths.

The only reasonable people left were getting ready to pack up and leave, and Arthur wished they had done so earlier. He wished Molly had taken that chance while she still had it, wished that John and Abigail and Jack would be long gone by now. Not much longer, and he wouldn't be able to help them anymore, would succumb to the illness nesting within his chest and die the death that's always been destined for him.

He only saw one glimpse of hope and that was Charles, Charles who's loyalty had never solely belonged to Dutch but to a life of freedom. His only reason for being here was the younger man these days, the younger man who rightfully preferred to be anywhere but here himself. He had work on his hands, had assigned himself way too many tasks at once, trying to help out the Wapiti reservation while wanting to provide for the last folks at camp here.

Arthur wished he could help him, but just like Sadie, Charles treated him as though he was already standing in the grave.

Today, Arthur was solely here to catch up with Charles, like he was most of the time. He missed him, missed the times they had once spent together in a past that had been much better than what one might dream up now. All they could do was dream at this point, though Arthur's sleep was plagued by nightmares most of the time.

He had waited an entire day, had asked Sadie just before she could ride off to town. No one knew where Charles was, and by the time Micah saw him trail around camp like a lost puppy one time too many, he took it upon himself to finally give him an explanation.

"Your sweetheart's out huntin', got a little caught up it seems." The man grinned at him with his foul, yellow teeth, Arthur rewarding him with a grunt before he turned on his heel. If that was the case, and Charles had been out for days by now, something couldn't be right. The man was the best hunter they had, the best tracker left at camp. And no one seemed to care about the prospect of having lost him.

Arthur shook Micah off his tail, climbing into the saddle of his horse without missing a beat. Even though he wasn't as talented a tracker as Charles, the man had taught him a few tricks in the past, hopefully enough to come in handy now. He departed without looking back, spurring on his stallion with his heels firmly pressed into his flanks. Arthur snapped the reins, further on edge now than he had been all day. He had a bad feeling about all of this.

It took a while until he had picked up a trail of hooves, unsure if he even could identify them accordingly. His vision swam more regularly these days, his head feeling heavy as he peered down the side of his horse. He felt like he was getting sea-sick but he pushed on nonetheless, having only one goal in mind and that goal being Charles' safety.

All the time they had known each other, they had guarded one another's back better than their own. Arthur had no problem watching out for his friend, though Charles was way more than that to him.

They had ridden out together one too many times, had shared too many stories of the past and plans of the future to consider their relationship as professional and distant as it was meant to be. Often enough, they had kept each other warm at night, had shared their secrets and their doubts, and had listened to what the other had upon his heart.

Arthur's own now beat frantically in his chest. He hadn't noticed how tears had begun to cloud his vision the further he rode. It might be the wind stinging in his eyes, but the air was perfectly still. He brushed the back of his hand over his eyes, blinked, caught his breath and pushed onward. After all the time that had passed, he couldn't be sure how far Charles might've ridden, least of all with a fast horse like Taima beneath him.

He just hoped they were okay.

Day soon shifted into night, and without a trail to follow now that his eyes were no longer of use, Arthur decided to settle down. He didn't bother setting up his tent, didn't bother with much more than a small campfire to stay warm. His nose was running within the cold but he ignored that, too, staring down at his own two feet while his arms loosely hugged his knees to his chest.

A sound from aside tore him out of his thoughts, made his head snap up and his hand instinctively drop to his gun belt. "Who's there?" He asked, rasped more accurately, coughing against the scratchiness of his throat. Maybe he really shouldn't be out here, but it was much too late to turn back around.

He pushed himself up, his bicep quivering beneath his weight, the rustling within the bushes stopping, until a figure pushed through all the way. "Arthur?" He could identify Charles' voice well enough, would never be able to forget it, cursing under his breath as he stumbled to his legs to catch him. The man had to have found him with the last of his strength, had to have followed the smoke and the scent of the campfire until he'd eventually seen him.

Arthur couldn't tell what was wrong from one glance alone, pulling Charles closer to the campfire to examine him. It was dark by now, cold, the humidity making way for temperatures that were much too cruel for most humans to endure. But Arthur knew he was going to die anyways.

"Christ– what's happened t'you?" He muttered, not even daring to ask where Taima might be now. Charles' shirt was left in pieces, torn and bloodied, scratches and what appeared like bitemarks upon his skin. "A cougar?" Arthur asked, laying his friend's head down in his lap while peering down at him with concern in his eyes. The tears were back, but he didn't acknowledge them.

"Murfrees," Charles' voice came, little more than a gust of air, meeting Arthur's cheek as he spoke. The man tried to sit himself up, pushing at Arthur's upper arm to give him space. And while Arthur backed away enough to allow him to breathe, he didn't let him put any more strain on his wounds. He hadn't gotten much of a look at them until now. "What're you doing out here, Arthur? You shouldn't–"

Arthur softly shook his head, muffling a cough with the back of his hand. "Don't talk," he muttered, grabbing for the knife on his belt to help the other man out of his shirt. "S'this okay?" He asked quietly before bringing the blade to the hem of Charles' shirt, watching him swallow until he got a small nod in reply.

His lungs rattled when he exhaled, leaning further above his friend to cut through what was left of his shirt, his breath catching at the gruesome sight of his torso. "How bad's it hurt?" he murmured, catching onto the sweat upon Charles' forehead and the strain in his eyes. He knew he had to act fast if he wanted to help him, able to see that his wounds already had started to swell and shape bruises. When his friend only hummed, his eyelids fluttering in a way that made Arthur's chest constrict painfully, he reached for his satchel right away, pulling out the last bit of alcohol he carried.

Arthur didn't wish to do anything that might make his friend uncomfortable, but he couldn't exactly ignore the deep gashes on his chest, mumbling an apology while ripping fabric off his shirt and drenching it in alcohol. "Hold still," he advised, biting down on his lower lip as he started to clean up the wounds, applying minimal pressure and stopping every time Charles stirred beneath him.

He had never seen the other man in so much pain, had never seen him as vulnerable to begin with, cursing under his breath when he didn't find a set of bandages where he had thought they'd be. "Hang on–" Arthur got to his legs, cushioning Charles' head on his rolled-up bedroll before stumbling over to his horse, his vision clouded by black and white specks.

These days, he couldn't move as swiftly as he was used to anymore, grabbing the saddle for support and gritting his teeth, his free hand slipping into his saddlebag to blindly feel around for the bandages he hoped he carried. He returned to Charles' side right away, falling to his knees in front of him, not caring for the mud that smeared his shins and knees, hands shaking as he unraveled the bandages.

"You'll be alright– jus' hold on," he kept on muttering, even though Charles' eyes had long since fallen shut, his breaths much too shallow for him to see. "It's okay, please…" he wrapped the bandages around his torso, covering all the open gashes he could find, his muscles quivering when he lifted Charles' body ever so slightly. The man was deadweight in his arms, Arthur's lip trembling while his throat grew tighter, swallowing down a sob when he laid the other man down again.

Arthur took off his jacket, covering Charles as well as he could before taking his hands off of him entirely. "Charles? Charles… are you with me?" He couldn't stop himself from reaching out, cupping the man's cheek in his hand, his features peaceful, though that wouldn't calm Arthur just now. His skin looked much too pale, what he could see of it through the illumination of the campfire light at least, running his thumb over his chin as his eyes stayed on the other man.

"Don't you give up on me now," he whispered, his eyes glazing over further. "I– I need you, Charles." And while he knew that the other man was unable to hear him, Arthur couldn't stop talking, the panic within his chest spiking the longer he didn't get a response. "I promised you I'd get you out of here– that we'll run away, make a life for ourselves out West." His breath rattled, a sob leaving his chest after all. Arthur dropped his head to Charles' shoulder, his hands holding onto the man's upper arms.

He tried to calm his breathing, hot tears streaming down his cheeks to seep into the jacket he had covered the other man with. "You can do it– you have to," he mumbled, his voice barely audible through the tightness of his throat. "I still— I still haven't told you I love you." His shoulders shook, keeping his face buried within Charles' shoulder as he stayed hunched over, not caring for how hard it was to breathe like this.

The night had grown darker and colder around them, merely sounds of nature audible after Arthur had passed out from exhaustion. His hand held Charles' in a loose grasp, body curled up by the other man's side to offer him more warmth. The tears had left salty traces upon Arthur's cheeks, his lashes sticking together though he had no strength to open his eyes either way.

Maybe he'd die out here, with Charles by his side, wishing and praying the man hadn't passed away already. Arthur couldn't bear the thought that he might still be breathing while his friend wasn't, the worth of his own life much less than what Charles had amounted to by now. He had only ever wished for his friends and family to be safe, for his loved ones to escape this cruel and harsh life, but it seemed there was no escape. For even when Dutch wasn't involved, people got hurt.

Arthur didn't feel how the other man's fingers moved within his grasp, how Charles squeezed his hand tighter and stirred by his side. He was far gone by now, captured by a deep sleep he hasn't had any way to fight.

It only was with a tightening hold on his shoulder that he eventually woke, turning his head away as he rasped out one cough after another into the crook of his elbow. "Arthur." Charles' voice sounded faint, like it came from far away, even if the man laid right by his side. Arthur turned again, heaving his breaths as he rolled onto his back, his gaze meeting that of the man next to him.

He swallowed thickly, knowing that his eyes had to be reddened and puffy, not only from his illness but because of the crying he had done previously. "You look… horrible," Charles whispered, letting go of his shoulder to reach down and take his hand again. His fingers were clammy, but undeniably alive where they held onto Arthur's.

"I was always ugly," Arthur responded, wheezing out a laugh that turned into another cough before he knew it. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, relief encompassing his expression, though he knew that there was no reason to believe that the worst was overcome just now. "Let's get you home," he muttered, weakly whistling for his horse that had to be somewhere nearby. They had to leave this place, get Charles back to camp to try and stitch him up, hoping that they still had the supplies to do so.

Charles held onto him, not letting go even as Arthur tried to stand, softly shaking his head when he turned to look back down at him. "Leave me," he said. "I'll only be baggage to carry–"

But Arthur wouldn't hear that. "I ain't rode out here to abandon you," he grunted, gathering Charles in his arms as well as he could, his horse already waiting by their side. "We'll get you to camp, get you back on your feet and fix this." It was hard to maneuver Charles onto his horse, the man barely able to keep himself on his own two legs. He managed, anyhow, stubbornly bringing his own body into the saddle behind the man to make sure he wouldn't fall.

"We– we don't got supplies at camp. Don't make it hard on yourself, you can't… safe everyone." Charles' head lolled back against his chest, Arthur dearly trying not to listen to the words he had spoken in an attempt to stay composed.

"Then I'll bring you to the reservation, Rains Fall will—"

"I'm not gonna take anythin' away from them." Arthur snapped the reins, pushing his heels against the flanks of his horse to get the stallion going.

He stayed quiet, brows furrowed while he concentrated on the path ahead, leading his horse through the trees as fast as he could. "I'll get you to a doctor then… just hold on." Charles didn't raise his voice again, so Arthur focused on riding for now, unwilling to face the thought of leaving his friend anywhere to die.

They arrived in Annesburg before the sun had crept too high up in the sky, Arthur stopping a man on the streets to ask for directions to the nearest doctor's office. He had slung an arm around Charles' middle to try and keep him from falling off his horse, the man seemingly passed out once again.

Urgently, Arthur followed the directions he had been given, yelling for someone to come help him once he had found the building that had been pointed out to him. From there on out, everything happened much too fast. There were hands helping him off the horse, hands that pulled Charles from his grasp before he could do or say anything. He only saw how the other man was led away from him before he collapsed on the wooden porch to the building, waving people away that tried to pull him back to his feet.

Arthur woke in a bed with clean white sheets. The room was lit by sunlight, smelling of disinfectant and cleanliness. He stirred, his head pounding nastily when he tried to sit up upon the mattress. His first thoughts belonged to Charles, though he didn't need to search for long until he saw the other occupied bed within the room, grunting as he swung his legs over the edge to stand.

With uncertain steps, he made his way over to the other man, his clothes different from before, white and clean, feeling like nothing he had ever worn in his life. Arthur sat himself down on the chair by Charles' side, able to see that his clothes had been changed, too, the visible bandages around him clean.

He reached over, taking one of the hands the man had rested upon his stomach. His motion seemed enough to rouse him, Charles' eyes blinking open slowly, the dark orbs meeting Arthur's own soon enough.

"You okay?" Charles asked, his voice heavy from disuse.

Arthur stared down at him, shaking his head in disbelief before bringing the man's hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. "You's the one who nearly died, and you're askin' me if I'm fine." The corners of Charles' mouth lifted ever so slightly, Arthur releasing a light sigh. It was a relieved sound, fueled by his belief that now everything would turn out to be okay.

"What you said to me before, in the forest. Did you mean that?"

Arthur had to think for a moment, not having expected Charles to have heard any of his words at the time, nor for him to remember now. He nodded, kissing the back of Charles' hand once again. "Every word," he whispered, not embarrassed on behalf of what had left his mouth in a moment of desperation.

"Good." Another brief smile passed over Charles' features. "Because I do, too. And I want to keep living." He disentangled his fingers from Arthur's, reaching up to gently grasp his jaw. "With you."

#charthur #charles smith #arthur morgan #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfiction #angst #tw mild gore #my writing #requests #long post

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 10/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Сhapter 9

“Come with me, I’ll show it to you.”

Levi glared at the girl, feeling his eye twitch.

That girl, Ymir, he didn’t like her. She seemed cocky, overly confident and just, plain annoying. She also tried to shoot him and Hange. And she had interrupted their argument, which could have resulted in… some kind of consensus. Perhaps, even reconciliation. A revelation of some sorts. But now they were back to square one, and Hange returned to giving him long, mistrustful look.

And the fault, in Levi’s opinion, lied entirely on that irritating girl.

Levi didn’t like her, he didn’t trust her and he was adamantly against her becoming a part of their team.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the one calling the shots. Hange was and she was very much pro Ymir becoming a part of their team. And there was nothing he could do about it, except grit his teeth and put on the fiercest of his scowls.

“Where are you taking us?” he caught up with Ymir in a few, swift strides, reaching her and shoving the door she was going to open closed. Levi now stood right beside her, breathing down her neck. Her neck was all he could reach, because, to make matters even worse, the girl was also tall as a fucking tree.

That meant that she could easily look down on him, and that’s exactly what she did, as she stopped and turned around.

“My place,” she answered flippantly.

“Your place?” Hange blinked a couple of times, her mouth slightly open. The expression was endearing, but then again, there was little Levi didn’t find endearing about Hange. Focus, he told himself, forcing his attention back on the conversation. “So this apartment…”

“Oh hell no,” Ymir cringed. “I don’t live in this shithole. I used to live there, but now I simply give that address for the rich assholes I work for. In case some of them actually have heart and decide to pay the poor girl who lives in a basement more.”

“So you use that apartment to scam people?” he couldn’t help his accusing tone. The idea was smart, yes, and Levi was the first person to agree that rich people deserved to have their money taken away, but he was also petty and looking for a reason to dislike the girl even more.

He thought, even hoped that his biting remark would shame Ymir. But all he got in response was an elbow in his side from Hange, and a vicious, “And you’re any different?”

It wasn’t precisely shame that cursed through him after Hange’s words, but it was something similar, close to remorse.

“Who are you, by the way?” her greenish eyes bored into his, as Ymir loomed over him, hands on her hips. “I don’t remember seeing your detective’s badge.”

“Because I don’t have it,” craning his head upwards to scowl at the girl was starting to aggravate his neck muscles just a bit too much, but Levi didn’t allow this little nuisance to break his focus. “As for who I am… you can call me Levi.”

“I can call you Levi? Well, thank you for your kindness.” Ymir cackled, rather loudly. Levi winced at the volume and clenched his fists at the expression of pure mockery on her face. “But I need to know your full name.”

Levi refused to back down or reveal himself so easily. Especially, since… “You didn’t tell us your full name either.”

“Ymir is all I have,” she answered, crossing arms on her chest. In an instant, all signs of mischief were gone from her expression. Now she was staring at Levi levelly, her face guarded and strict. “Orphans don’t have the pleasure of receiving a surname.”

“Oh.”

The soft, quiet sound came from Hange. Levi didn’t need to look away from Ymir to see that Hange was looking at the girl with mix of sadness and compassion. As ready as he was to loathe the insolent brat, he was feeling something similar, a painful clench of his heart that reminded him of his biggest weakness – his unreasoned kindness and desire to help the ones who need it.

Recently, his kindness led him to a fist-fight in the bar. Levi could only guess where this fault of his would bring him this time.

“I don’t need your pity,” Ymir huffed, seeing the sudden change in Levi’s eyes. “What I need is your full name.”

God, she was so tenacious, like a piranha that had latched itself on his leg. He sighed, surrendering to his fate. It seemed like he had no other choice. So keeping his eyes firmly locked on Ymir's, he said, “I’m Levi. Levi Ackerman.”

As soon as these words had left his mouth, Levi found himself pressed against the front door with Ymir once again looming over him. With movement almost too quick for him to catch, Ymir had taken a knife out of the inside pocket of her leather jacket. Now that very same knife was held tightly in her hand, and its edge was pressed threateningly to his stomach.

Hell, how many weapons she had on her?

“Ackerman?” she hissed, her green eyes shooting fire. The knife moved an inch closer to him. “The same Ackerman that had kidnapped Historia?”

It took him a moment too long to get his wits back. He wasn’t threatened with a knife every day of his life, after all. And, by the time, his composure had returned and he was ready to retaliate, Hange decided to take matters in her hands.

Quite literally.

She took Ymir’s wrist and squeezed it tightly, eliciting a pained groan from her. The hold she had on the knife loosened, and it fell down with a resounding sound, barely missing the toe of Levi’s boot.

“We don’t do violence here,” Hange said, her voice tight. “And no, he isn’t the same Ackerman. His uncle is the one who had taken Historia.”

“So you knew about this!” yanking her wrist out of Hange’s hold and cradling it protectively to her chest, Ymir shifted her gaze, turning her anger on her.

“I did,” Hange confirmed. “But Levi knows nothing about his uncle’s crimes.”

Levi stared at Hange wide-eyed, not quite believing what was happening right in front of his eyes. Hange was defending him? She had just protected him from Ymir?

He wasn’t the only who was openly gaping at her, Ymir seemed to have troubles believing Hange was serious as well.

“So you trust him? You, a police officer, trust him?”

“Maybe, trust is not quite the right word,” Hange chuckled, her serious demeanor shifting to present a bashful grin. “But I believe him,” despite the relaxed expression, her voice was filled with conviction. She did believe him, Levi realized, Hange wasn’t simply putting on a show. The revelation caught him off guard. It also made him recall their recent argument. Perhaps, not everything was lost? “We may be chasing different goals, but I believe it will lead to the same outcome.”

“And if working with me goes against all of your morals,” Levi cut in, reverting Ymir’s attention to himself. “Then we should go our separate ways. The tensions,” he chanced a glanced at Hange, surprised to find that she was actually looking back at him. “Are already high. We don’t need any more infighting.”

Ymir considered them both for a moment, her gaze switching from Levi to Hange. Worrying her lip between her teeth, she appeared deep in thought.

“Fine,” she conceded at last. “It seems like I have no choice but to work with you.”

“Want to save Historia that much, eh?” Hange wiggled her eyebrows in an obscenely ridiculous way. Levi couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. Ymir seemed to have the same reaction to her antics.

“I owe her. She's in this mess because of me,” she explained, rather gruffly. “And,” a smirk pulled on her lips, reminding Levi that Ymir was an irritating brat who had attempted to shot him, and then had the gall to threaten him with a knife. “She is also extremely cute.”

“Ah, she’s adorable like a princess!” Hange agreed with a wide smile. Despite Ymir being nothing short of nuisance just a minute ago, Hange had now her arm wrapped around the girl’s shoulders, talking with her animatedly.

The two of them walked out of the apartment together, still whispering amongst each other. They seemed to be best friends already, which left Levi feeling oddly neglected.

Gods, just how bad did he have it for Hange?

However, he wasn’t feeling abandoned for too long. As soon as they exited the apartment complex, and Ymir started leading them to the aforementioned her place, Hange left her side and fell in step with Levi.

“Hey,” she started, keeping her eyes locked on the horizon. It showed a pretty sight of the setting sun and the warm glow it emanated, but Hange didn’t seem too interested in watching the light reflected in the windows. She simply appeared determined not to meet his eyes. “During your little clash with Ymir… she didn’t hurt you or something?”

Was it his wishful thinking, or did he actually hear hints of concern in her voice? Whatever it was, it sent an exciting pulse through his heart.

“I’m fine. You intervened just in time. By the way… thanks for that.”

Levi cringed at his own awkwardness. He usually wasn’t that clumsy, clumsiness was a big no in his line of work, but Hange excelled at bringing out that part of him. She made him feel so many contrasting emotions that it was hard to navigate through all of them. Sometimes he felt like he was lost in it, blindly stumbling through the workings of his own heart.

“Well, I couldn’t allow our only way to get to Kenny Ackerman get stabbed, could I?”

Of course, Hange was thinking about the case. That was understandable, logical, expected. And whatever concern he had caught in her voice, it was probably directly related to their case.

Their case, he had to focus on it.

You’re here for Kenny, he reminded himself for the nth time. Kenny, not Hange and the weird feeling she provoked in him.

Kenny, Kenny, Kenny, he kept repeating to himself like a mantra. But with Hange still so close to him, his focus was gradually slipping.

Thankfully, Ymir provided an excellent distraction when she stopped them in front of the shadiest bar Levi had ever laid his eyes on. And, considering the fact that he had grown up in the slams and had just returned from the city, where he himself was working in a shady bar with an awful boss, that was saying a lot.

“That’s your place?” he asked in his most unimpressed voice. “You live in a bar?”

“I work at the bar. And I live right above it. And since my shift starts in less than half an hour,” Ymir shrugged. “I decided to mix business with pleasure.”

“Works for me,” Hange hummed, pushing past Levi to get to the entrance. “What floor your apartment is?”

“Third, the first one on the left.”

“Are you even allowed to work at the bar?” Levi looked critically at Ymir. “I thought you were a teenager.”

“Are you allowed to drink?” Ymir easily parried. “I thought you were a kid.”

Brats and their loud mouths, there was nothing that irritated Levi more. Listening to Ymir’s cackling, he could only grit his teeth. His scowl darkened even more, when he saw Hange high-fiving the insolent girl.

“I’m glad you’re starting to get along,” she chuckled, patting Levi and Ymir on their shoulders. “But let’s move on, there is a girl that needs to be saved.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Ymir mumbled, leading them upstairs.

___

Ymir’s apartment turned out to be a kitchen and a single room that simultaneously served as a bedroom, a study and a living room. In the center stood an old dusty couch with clothes thrown all around it, next to it was a rickety coffee table with a laptop on it, and on the opposite wall, there was…

Wow. So Ymir was that serious about finding Historia?

The wall was covered with newspapers clippings and photos. And the center of it all was the photo of Historia, with various strings attached to it.

“So…” Hange awkwardly shuffled to take a better look at it. “Care to explain all of it?”

“Sure,” Ymir nodded. “But it might take a while. Do you want something to drink?”

“Do you have tea?” Levi asked, subconsciously knowing the answer already.

“Nope, only beer.”

“I’ll have a beer, please,” Hange smiled, and then, to Levi’s horror, she took out the fucking notebook. He was getting sick of it.

Ymir returned from the kitchen, holding three bottles of beer. She handed one to Hange, then turned to Levi, looking him up and down. Levi didn’t like where this was going.

“Do you have an ID, sir?” she asked in the most mocking, annoying voice Levi had ever heard. And he thought that Kenny was the most irritating person in this world. Ymir was proving him seriously wrong.

And Hange’s delighted laugher wasn’t making him feel any better.

“Fuck off,” he snapped, snatching the bottle from her.

“Alright, let’s start,” Ymir waited for Hange to settle on a couch. Then she opened her bottle and pointed it at the photo of Historia. “So you know that Krista Lenz isn’t her real name, yes?”

“Yep,” Hange confirmed.

“And that her father,” Ymir trailed the bottle to the side, following the string to the photo of middle-aged man. “Is Rod Reiss.”

“We… recently found about it.”

“And since an Ackerman is sitting right next to you, I’m assuming you know about Kenny Ackerman as well?”

Before nodding, Hange stole a quick glance at Levi. She turned away before Levi could decipher the meaning of it.

“And you really don’t know where he is?” Ymir directed her question at Levi. “Isn’t he your uncle or something?”

“He is my uncle.” Levi stared at the wall, fixing his eyes on the place where Kenny’s photo should have been. But, apparently, Ymir couldn’t find it, so instead there was a white square with his name written on it. Still, the fact that she managed to find that much information was already an astonishing achievement. It actually made Levi curious… “Where did you get his name?”

As far as Levi was aware, Kenny was obsessively secretive. He might appear carefree and careless, but that was just a façade. He wouldn’t survive for as long as he did if he hadn’t shrouded his identity in the thick fog of secret. The only mistake of his that Levi could remember was his fuck up with Traute, and she was probably already dealt with, in one way or another. So how did a girl find out about him?

“It wasn’t all that hard,” Ymir flippantly admitted. “I was spying on Reiss, and I once saw him talk with Ackerman. It didn’t take a genius to realize everything else. By the way,” she levelled Levi with a hard look. “Thanks for killing my boss. Because of that, I had to return to working at this shitty bar.”

Levi shrugged. He could say that technically he wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger and killed that guy. But Ymir didn’t seem too interested in technicalities.

“If you know about Kenny,” Hange began, biting at her pen. “Then do you know why he had taken Historia?”

Ymir shook her head, shuttering Levi’s hope to easily find the answer to the question ‘what the fuck was Kenny doing’. “I guess he had some fallout with Reiss and decided to use Historia as a leverae. And that brings me to my next point,” the beer bottle travelled upwards, to the photo of a young woman with long black hair. “What do you know about Frieda Reiss?”

“Not much,” Hange admitted after studying the photo for a several moments. “She is Reiss’ eldest daughter, isn’t she? And she’s an aspiring artist, if the memory serves me right.”

“Well, you already know more than I expected. Yes, Frieda is Reiss’ daughter, which makes her Historia’s half-sister.”

“And that’s important how?” Levi asked, smoothly standing up in guise of taking a closer look at Ymir’s crazy wall.

He walked up to it, squinted at the various scribblings, and then moved closer to the desk that stood by the window. He leaned against it, pretending to listen to Ymir and Hange’s conversation.

“Out of all of Reiss’ family, Frieda is the only who gives a damn about Historia. If we want to find out about Historia’s whereabouts, she’s our best bet.”

“You think she knows something?” Hange moved slightly forward, in an attempt to take a closer look at the wall and Frieda’s photo on it. “You talked with her?”

Ymir scrunched her nose, making an extremely displeased face. She took a large swing from the bottle, cringing slightly at the bitter taste. “She doesn’t want to talk with me. We had an argument of sorts.”

“An argument…” Hange frowned. “About what?”

While Ymir was busy forming an adequate explanation, Levi discreetly opened the top drawer of her desk.

Once a thief, forever a thief, that was what Hange had told him? No point in going against his own nature then, Levi thought, as he flipped through the contents of the drawer. Inside there were photos, a lot of photos. A dozen, if not even more. They varied in foreshortening, angle, color palette. And yet the subject remained the same.

It was Historia.

There was a picture of Historia from across the street, enjoying a book inside the café. And a picture of Historia, sitting on a bench in the park and eating an ice-cream. There was Historia smiling, Historia frowning, Historia laughing, Historia… oh. So Ymir got that close to the girl she was supposed to be spying on?

Hiding the picture of two girls kissing, Levi closed the drawer and returned his attention to the conversation on hand.

“I already told you Frieda cares about Historia. And when she found out that I was spying on her father, and, subsequently on Historia too, well,” Ymir ran a hand through her hair. “Let’s just say she wasn’t too happy about it.”

“But?” Hange prompted, notebook clenched tightly in her hand. “You think that Frieda knows something?”

“Reiss definitely knows something, I’m sure Ackerman has contacted him with some kind of ransom note.”

“And Reiss didn’t go to the police, because he doesn’t want the world to know about his connection to Historia.”

“Exactly,” Ymir confirmed. “And if there was actually some communication between him and Ackerman, Frieda is the only who knows about it. She’s in on everything her father is doing.”

“But she’s the daughter of an influential politician and she’s a famous artist,” Hange bit at her thumb, her frown deepening. “How the heck we can get her to talk? Especially if her father doesn’t want to involve the police.”

Ymir grinned. “I’m glad you asked.”

Oh no. Levi didn’t like that smile or that tone. An awful offer was going to be made to them. Or, even worse, that would be a demand.

With his stomach sinking, he sighed and prepared for the worst.

Ymir took a step to the side, revealing the last part of puzzle. It was a clipping from a newspaper article that talked about… Levi squinted… an upcoming gala that was going to be held at the Reiss’ mansion. Great.

“Frieda is the one who organizes the gala and she is the one who will be hosting it,” Ymir explained. “Her father won’t be here, and that will give you an opportunity to get closer to her.”

“But won’t there be a security? How can we get in?” Hange asked. “And how will we convince her to share the information with us?”

“I can obtain two tickets for you. As for convincing Frieda… I don’t think she’ll need much of it. She wants to save her sister, just say you’re from police and she’ll probably share everything she knows.”

“And what if she doesn’t want to talk to us? What if she orders the guards to throw us out? Too many unknowns for this to effectively work out. I say the plan is too risky,” Levi concluded, crossing hands on his chest.

“But we don’t really lose anything,” Hange countered. “It’s a gamble.”

“It’s a waste of time.” Levi argued.

“It won’t be a waste of time with you,” Ymir said. “If you don’t succeed with talking to Frieda, then…” she wiggled her eyebrows, looking at Levi.

Hange shot up to her feet. “Oh no. No, no, no. No! I can’t allow you to break inside and snoop around. It’s Reiss’ mansion! If we get caught, I’ll get skinned alive.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Hange,” Levi rolled his eyes. Now that Ymir mentioned the idea of snooping around, he liked the plan a lot more. “We’ve already broken into someone’s apartment, and nothing bad happened.”

“We almost got shot at,” Hange reminded him through the gritted teeth.

“Then don’t get caught,” Ymir advised. “Ackermans were never caught, right? And you have Ackerman with you. I’m sure,” there it was again, that tiny, irritating smirk. “He’ll do his best to protect you.”

“Fine,” Hange ruffled her hair, looking absolutely frantic. She lifted the bottle of beer to her lips, downing half of it in one go. “Fine, fine, we’ll do it your way. But… I don’t know what to wear to this kind of event.”

“Don’t worry,” Ymir gave her a thorough once-over, going from the head to toe and focusing on Hange’s long legs, thin waist and broad shoulders. She licked her lips. “I’ll find something for you.”

“And me?” Levi asked, glaring at the girl who was ogling Hange so shamelessly. “Do you have something for me?”

“You’re a legendary thief,” Ymir scoffed, barely sparing him a glance. “Steal a suit for yourself or something.”

Fuck, how he hated the annoying brats. There was nothing worse than them.

“If we have planned everything out,” Ymir finished her beer and threw the bottle in the trashcan that, to Levi’s disgust, was already overwhelmed with bottles and empty pizza boxes. “Then I need to go. My shift starts in just few minutes. If you need something else, you can use my laptop. There is a rough blueprint of Reiss’ mansion there.”

“How did you manage to get inside?” Hange said, already taking the laptop in her hands.

Ymir winked, the insufferable smirk returning. “Let’s just say that I’m excellent at getting inside ladies' private chambers.”

The horrible innuendo was bad enough on its own, but Hange’s loud laughter made it much, much worse. Levi could only roll his eyes and scoff, apparently, he was destined to be surrounded by annoying people with terrible jokes.

Well, at least, Hange didn’t look so tense anymore. Perhaps, Ymir’s presence was a buffer between the tensions that had been rising all day. If so, Levi was glad to have the girl around, despite tasteless innuendos and all.

“There is left over pizza in the refrigerator and there is booze under the counter if you need it.”

“And you?” Hange turned to Levi. “I can’t exactly let you go home, but…”

“He can go with me,” Ymir offered. “I’ll pour him a drink, keep an eye so he won’t sneak away.”

Spend the evening with Hange or with the brat who would probably continue to mercilessly mock him, Levi knew what option he would choose, but… he wasn’t the one calling the shots.

Hange was.

“Excellent!” she gave Ymir thumbs up and a brilliant smile. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

With that Ymir grabbed him by the elbow and started dragging him downstairs. Levi could only sigh and surrender.

___

“So,” Ymir poured a shot of whiskey and handed it to him, leaning against the counter and studying his face. The unnatural dark red lighting of the bar made her look even more imposing. The irritating smirk was already in place, playing on her thin lips. “What is happening between you and detective badass?”

Color rushed to his cheeks, and Levi thanked the lighting for hiding the unfortunate reaction.

“Nothing,” he mumbled into his drink.

“Nothing? So what about that argument I’ve overheard and the two of you rolling around on the floor of my apartment? You call that nothing?”

“Eavesdropping is bad,” Levi said, but, despite the biting tone, he lowered his head even further down. That was a topic he really didn’t want to discuss. Especially, with a girl he met just an hour ago. “And we weren’t rolling around, I saved Hange from getting shot.”

“I dig up dirty secrets for a living. Eavesdropping is my job. And you could have just shoved her aside, not jump onto her, you know?”

“Shut up,” he put the glass of whiskey up to his lips, finishing it in one large gulp. The bitter, burning liquid travelled down his throat, making him shiver. He pushed the glass back to Ymir. “Another one.”

“Ah ah,” she wiggled her finger. “I won’t let you have another drink until you tell me what the heck is going between you two.”

“Why are so interested in it?”

Ymir looked around the bar. There was just a couple of customers inside, all of them slowly nursing their drinks and seemingly uninterested in ordering something else. As her eyes shifted from one corner to another, Ymir shrugged. “It’s a slow night. And I have a feeling something juicy has transpired.”

“Alright, I’ll tell,” after all, what the heck he was losing? His dignity? He bid goodbye to it a long time ago. Besides, there was something he wanted to get out of Ymir as well. “But in exchange you’ll tell me what happened between you and Historia.”

“Nothing,” was probably what Ymir wanted to exclaim. Her widened eyes and scandalized expression were definitely screaming that. But Levi raised a hand before she could even start denying his claim.

“I found the pictures inside your desk.”

If he thought that Ymir’s face showed disbelief and anger before, now there was pure rage. “Going through other people’s stuff is bad,” she hissed, her eyes narrowed into slits.

“I’m a thief,” Levi graciously accepted the drink she prepared to him. “Going through other people’s stuff is my job.”

“Has anyone told you how irritating you are?”

“Has anyone told you?”

Looming over him with hands on her hips, Ymir stared down at him. Levi stared back, putting the darkest of his glares.

Ymir was the first one to surrender, breaking the eye contact with a low chuckle. “Alright, alright, we’re both assholes.”

“That we are,” he agreed, taking another sip from his glass. He put it back down softly, the ice cubes clinking together. “So what’s the deal between you and Historia?”

Ymir took a deep sigh and grabbed the closest glass to her, starting to mindlessly clean it with a rag. The silence stretched, the sounds of tense rubbing of the glass taking over. Levi wanted to repeat his question, but then— Ymir finally gathered enough courage to start talking.

“So you already know that I was supposed to spy on Historia. Reiss had an enemy in the parliament that wanted to expose his secret daughter, and, well,” she shook her head and laughed, the sound devoid of mirth but filled with bitterness. “Whatever pays the bills, right? So I found that girl, took a few photos and then I was asked to bring a DNA sample, to make sure that she really is Reiss’ daughter and it isn’t just a rumor, created by his former maid. I broke inside her room at campus, took a hair out of the hairbrush, and I was already leaving when some clumsy idiot bumped into me and I fell down the stairs. And that how I actually met Historia. Unaware that moments ago I was looking through her things, she brought me to her room and forcefully bandaged my sprained ankle.”

“And that’s it? You literally fell for her?” the story made him chuckle. It also made him remember a similar story – a story about bumping into someone on the street, about falling in more ways than just one.

“Well, Historia made sure to call and text me every day for the entirety of three weeks, because she read somewhere that it takes three weeks for the ankle sprain to heal completely. She also personally checked up on me a couple of times, although I’m not even sure if my ankle was actually sprained. But,” Ymir rubbed the back of her neck, and, perhaps, it was the treacherous lightning, but it looked like she was blushing. “I couldn’t exactly say no to a cute girl like this, you know?”

“And? Did she find out who you actually are?”

“No. But her sister did. I don’t know if Historia knows who Frieda truly is, and I don’t know why Frieda is so obsessed with her, but she found me and threatened to use her father’s connections to throw me in jail. I grew up on a street, so there was a lot of illegal stuff I did, and… I couldn’t exactly risk it. I wanted to sneak into Historia’s dorm, you know, have, at least some kind of a goodbye… but when I got inside, she wasn’t there. The next day I found that she was kidnapped.”

Silence fell over them. What was there to say? Tell that he felt sorry for her? That he knew just how shitty she was feeling right now?

Nothing he could say would make Ymir feel better.

“What about you then? What did you do to make our fierce detective glare at you so much?”

“She was the lead detective investigating out heists. And…”

“Ohh,” Ymir sounded intrigued. “So you seduced her? To get the information out of her? But then fell for her along the way?”

“No. I just fell. Bumped into four-eyes on the street and dropped all of my groceries, so she decided to make it up for me. It kinda went up from there.”

“Oh,” the interest disappeared from her voice completely. “And what happened next?”

“And then she got really close to catching us, and I decided to run away, and then my uncle shot her, and then,” Levi spat bitterly, drowning his misery with another mouthful of whiskey. “And then her boss found out who I really am and I left before I could bid her an actual goodbye. I moved to another part of the world, found myself a job, in a bar, if you would believe me, and then Hange found me and demanded I come back to help her catch my uncle.”

“Ow, that’s rough, dude.” Ymir refilled his glass. “Did you the two of you at least bang?”

“What!” Levi was sure his face was as a tomato. He glared fiercely at the girl, desperately trying to mask his embarrassment and save at least some remnants of his dignity.

“Don’t deny that you haven’t thought about it,” she taunted, grinning wildly, victoriously, like a predator who had just stumbled upon an easy prey. Fucking piranha. “Those long legs and wide shoulders, I bet she has abs too, and have you seen that ass, I’d—”

“Shut up,” Levi growled, closing his eyes to get that image of Hange out of his head. Hange did have a very nice body, he’d have to be blind not to see that, but that’s— that wasn’t the reason why he liked her, and even if he did think about her in that way – which, of course, he absolutely didn’t – Ymir was still the last person on Earth he’d like to discuss that with. Well, maybe, Kenny was the last person he’d discuss that with, but Ymir was definitely near the bottom of that list as well. “I’ve never, ever, thought about me and Hange in that way.”

“Well, well, someone is repressed,” Ymir didn’t take mercy on him, her voice becoming even more aggravating. “It’s not heathy for a man your age, you know? You need to learn how to relax, for example, you can sit in the dark room, think long and hard about hot detectives, imagine Hange arresting you, handcuffing you and then—”

Jesus Christ. Levi didn’t think it was possible for his cheeks to feel that hot. They were just as hot as—

Fuck, even his subconscious was working against him.

Ymir was laughing openly now, doubled over the counter and heaving breathlessly. “Man, you should have seen your face, it’s so easy to mess with you.”

“You’re a nuisance, I can’t even begin to understand how your Historia could have fallen for you.”

“The same applies to you, midget. How could someone as hot as detective Hange end up with a crush on you of all people?”

“Hange is too trustworthy and open,” Levi shrugged.

“And Historia is too kind and naïve.” Ymir agreed with a smile that looked too soft on the face of the girl who just minutes ago was mocking him mercilessly. “So what, it was their shortcomings that let us meet them?”

“Or it was fate. Or just dumb luck.”

Ymir grabbed a glass from the behind her, poured whiskey in it and raised it up. “To their shortcomings then. Or fate and dumb luck.”

Levi chuckled, as he brought his glass to hers. Yeah, he could drink for that.

Their glasses clinked, and Ymir’s expression changed, ever so slightly. The grin was still there, but it wasn’t as annoying as it was before. Now, it almost looked friendly. Levi felt his own lips curl up in a smile. Brats, perhaps, they weren’t that terrible after all.

“I’ll go out for a smoke,” he told Ymir, patting his jacket for a cigarette pack. “If four-eyes shows up…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell her that you just went out, don’t worry. I’m not that much of a nuisance,” she winked at him, following this gesture with another fit of boisterous laughter.

Levi rolled his eyes at the display and hurried to the exit.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief when the chill, night air greeted him. The bars usually didn’t smell all that great, and this one wasn’t an exception. The stench of brewery and the general stuffiness of these places were the main reason why Levi preferred to drink at home. He was never one for the company anyway, and his general disgust of bars only added to his alienation.

Besides, he had a long, long day after a long and tiring flight. It was the first time he was left alone ever since he had walked off the plane, and Levi decided to relish that moment, however short it may be.

He lighted up the cigarette and put it to his lips, deeply inhaling the fresh minty smoke.

Fuck… what a day. And it wasn’t even finished yet.

Levi wondered what was going to happen next, was Hange serious about keeping watch on him? If so, how was she planning to go about it? Make him stay at her apartment? The idea wasn’t exactly opposing to him, especially after seeing the mess that Kenny made of their place.

And, Kenny, what a bastard. Couldn’t he at least try to make looking for him easier? It was just one day, and Levi was positively spent. He felt like he could sleep for millennia.

And tomorrow was not going to be any better, with this whole gala shit. He’d be lucky if next evening wouldn’t end up with him sent in prison by Reiss.

However, he wasn’t going to be the only one taking that risk. Hange was going with him, and if she was caught, she could very well lose her job. If that possibility didn’t scare Hange, he wouldn’t let it scare him as well.

Still… a lot of things could go wrong tomorrow. He had to be ready to tackle at least some of them.

With another weary sigh, Levi took another drag of the cigarette, hoping the tobacco would provide a small amount of comfort. Coupled with all the whiskey he had drunk, the cigarette was doing its job fairly well until—

Until the front door of the bar had opened and Hange had walked out, her eyes immediately zooning in on him.

“Levi!”

She called him Levi, not Ackerman, and she did so with a wide, genuinely happy smile instead of an angry glare. She leaned against the wall next to him, bumping their shoulders merrily, and Levi was ready to triumph but then he caught the stench coming from Hange and saw her flushed cheeks and dilated pupils.

So she was drunk. Excellent, just what he needed to end that already horrible day.

“Hange,” he pinched the bridge of his, setting the cigarette aside. Perhaps, he just imagined it. Perhaps, Hange wasn’t actually drunk and her behavior had a completely logical explanation. “Hange, are you alright?”

“Um, sure,” she blinked sleepily, pressing closer to him. She was just a breath away of leaning fully against him. Feeling his heart pound in his chest, Levi tried to stay as still as possible, keeping the contact between them as minimal as he could. His mind decided to suddenly remind him of every stupid thing Ymir had told to him today. Levi never felt so betrayed by his own subconscious. “I’m just tired and a little hungry, and I think I had too much of the rum I found under the counter in Ymir’s apartment.”

And before Levi could react, before he could, maybe, scold Hange for this act of recklessness, she kicked the ground underneath him once again.

“Hey, can I have it?” she pointed to his cigarette, already reaching to it.

Moving the hand with cigarette away from Hange, Levi hesitated. On one hand, smoking could make her feel that much worse, on the other, she could just as well start arguing with him, and that was the last thing he needed today. So he settled on a middle ground.

“You can have one drag,” he allowed, handing her a cigarette.

But Hange didn’t take the cigarette from his hand. Instead, she slightly opened her mouth, as though in invitation.

Fucking hell. Was drunk Hange always like this?

Slowly, doing his best to ignore the trembling in his hands, he lifted the cigarette to her lips. Hange closed her mouth around it, her eyes fluttered shut as she started to inhale the smoke.

Levi watched her, completely transfixed, he never thought that someone could be that attractive while smoking, but here he was…

He was standing close to Hange, so close that he could see every individual eyelash, a small mole at the side of her cheek, the barely visible freckles on her nose, the little scar on her forehead. Her face was illuminated by the blue flickering sign with the name of the bar. The unnatural lighting made her seem even more surreal.

“Fuck!”

The illusion was broken abruptly, when Hange pushed him away and doubled down, coughing fit wracking through her body.

“Shit!” she croaked, in between the coughs. “I didn’t know that thing would be so strong, it’s so—”

“Wait.” Levi was so confused. “You’ve never smoked before?”

“No.”

God, what an insufferable person.

“Then why the hell you’ve asked for my cigarette?”

“Don’t know!” Hange straightened up, spreading her hands. The frantic motion made her stagger. Levi caught her by the elbow before she fell. “I just thought it would feel good. But it didn’t!”

“Idiot.” Levi scoffed. He winced when he realized that there was too much fondness in his tone.

“I’m just tired,” Hange sighed, dropping her shoulders and bending her knees to slide lower off the wall. “I deserve a break, don’t I? I didn’t have one in so long…”

Levi felt like he knew the answer to his question already. Yet, he still asked. “When was the last time you took a break?”

“When you left. As soon as I was discharged from the hospital, I threw myself into my work.”

Ouch. That was probably his fault.

He was contemplating what answer wouldn’t make him sound like an asshole while simultaneously keeping in secret just how much he had missed her during all the months he was gone, when he felt something warm touch his cheek.

He lifted his eyes from the grey, cracked asphalt and—

Cigarette fell from between his fingers.

Hange was closer than she was before, and her palm was resting on his cheek, absentmindedly caressing his skin.

“That thing…” with a feather light touch of her thumb, she traced the already healing cut on his cheek. “Where did you get this?”

“This…” fuck, why Hange’s proximity made it so hard for him to think? His thoughts were sluggish as ever, the neurons reacting with the pace as slow as it was humanly possible. With more effort than he was willing to admit, Levi forced himself to focus. “Would you believe it if I say that I received this thing while defending three teenagers from the local gangsters?”

Hange chuckled, the sound seemed warm enough to shield Levi even from the harshest winds of winter. “That depends… would you believe that, despite everything, a part of me is actually glad that you came back?”

Oh. Levi drew a sharp breath. Whatever he had expected Hange to say, this wasn’t it.

But Hange was drunk, he reminded himself. Hange was drunk and chances were she probably wouldn’t remember this conversation at all. He could take some of the weight off his chest and, perhaps, Hange would be none the wiser.

So he laid his hand on top of Hange’s, and said, “Only if you would believe that I wish I didn’t hurt you. That was never my intention. And I also wish we could have gone on that skating rink date you’ve promised me.”

He expected Hange to lash out. He expected her to push him away and start calling him names. He expected literally anything else but not for Hange starting to recite Shakespeare.

“Oh Romeo, Romeo!” with all the dramatics of the drunken person, she fell against him, a hand flying to her forehead. “Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name!”

“Four-eyes?”

“Sorry,” she laughed, covering her mouth with a hand. Her head laying on his shoulder, she looked up, her eyes sparkling. “It just… It kinda fits, don’t you think? You know if you weren’t Montecchi and I wasn’t Capuletti, perhaps then…”

Perhaps. And, oh, how Levi wished that ‘perhaps’ turned into ‘possibly’ and into actual truth. But— they were who they were, for the better or worse.

And entertaining what ifs would only make both of them more miserable. So before he did something stupid, like press his lips to Hange and taste that horrible rum she was drinking, Levi decided to change the course and the mood of their conversation. He playfully flicked her forehead and pushed her away from him. “I didn’t know that police officers could recite Shakespeare from the top of their head.”

“No one believes me,” Hange whispered with a naughty smile. “But I was a member of the drama club in high school.”

“Did you play Juliette?”

“No, I was Romeo, but,” she winked. “I had a very pretty Juliette.”

“Of course, you had,” Levi had no doubts about it. He did, however, have a regret that he wasn’t there to witness it. Watch lanky teenage Hange jump around the stage, shouting about her love to Juliet and hatred of Capuletti in the most melodramatic fashion possible? What was better than it? “Now, c’mon,” he gently pushed her forward, making sure she didn’t stumble and fall. “Let’s go inside, it’s getting cold.”

“Yeah, let’s—”

Levi’s hand was hovering above her shoulder, but when Hange touched the side of her face and started to slowly crane towards the ground, he had to wrap his fingers firmly around her elbow. With eyes widening in fear, he watched how Hange’s eyes rolled back into her head and she fell limply against his side.

“Hange!” he shook her, but received no answer. His blood started to rapidly turn into ice. “Hange,” he called again, more softly. She didn’t even stir.

Fuck, was she drunk enough to black out? Or did she faint because of the fatigue? Or was it the combination of the two?

Whatever was the case, but he had to, at least, bring Hange back inside the bar. Keeping his hand on her waist, Levi carefully opened the front door and stumbled inside.

All eyes were on him as soon as he walked in. And no one’s stare was as surprised as Ymir’s.

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

“Your fucking fault,” he gritted through his teeth, as he approached the bar counter and pushed Hange on one of the chairs. “She drank too much while she was working.”

“Shit. And what are you going to do now?”

He didn’t have a lot of options. He could let Hange stay with Ymir, he could let Hange crush at his place, or… he could bring her to her own apartment.

The third option was probably the one Hange would be most comfortable with, but there was a tiny problem with it – he didn’t know where she lived.

“She left her bag here while she went outside to find you,” Ymir said, producing the said bag from behind the counter. “Her phone was blowing out all this time, maybe, you should call back? Perhaps, a friend will come to pick her up?”

Levi swallowed. He had a feeling that he knew what friend was calling Hange so insistently. With dread settling in, he took the bag from Ymir’s hands and fished out the phone.

The screen lighted up, showing five missed calls from – surprise, surprise - Erwin.

Fuck, just as he had expected. Just what he was fearful of.

With his insides twisting in a knot, Levi stared at Erwin’s photo, at his relaxed and smiling face. Levi remembered him a little differently. He remembered him as cunning, ruthless and calculating. Their encounter at the precinct was still fresh in Levi’s mind. His words, spoken quietly but with so much authority, were still ringing in his ears.

Leave this city, Levi Ackerman, and don't come back. Stop toying with Hange's feelings and don’t you dare contact her ever again.

As it was evident from the photo Hange chose for him, she saw a very different version of Erwin Smith. She saw him as her caring and kind boss. Levi doubted that Erwin would show the same side of himself to him.

“Would you like to make that call?” he handed the phone to Ymir.

She pushed it back with a short laugh. “I have a feeling that her friend is cop, so, no, I’m not very eager to become his acquaintance.”

Shit. So he had to do it. Fuck, Levi didn’t want to. He really, really didn’t want to.

But he had to do it, for Hange.

That last thought gave him enough courage to unlock the phone and dial the number. He closed his eyes tightly as soon as he did, his stomach was falling lower and lower with each passing beep.

On the third one, his call was answered.

“Hange?” well, now his voice definitely didn’t sound as cold and strict as it did during their last conversation. Right now, Captain Erwin Smith sounded almost frantic. “Hange, where are you? Why didn’t you pick up? I’ve been calling you—”

“Erm,” Levi cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to another. Honestly, he’d rather take on ten more gangsters from Signapore, or have his leg ripped out than continue this conversation. “It’s not Hange.”

“Ackerman.” And there it was, that cold, emotionless tone. Awesome. But now… there was more urgency to it. And much more anger. “Where is Hange? What did you do to her? If you laid even a finger—”

“Jesus, calm the fuck down. Hange is fine.” Except that she wasn’t. Her eyes were still closed as she sat slumped in a chair. “She just… tired herself out. I need you to come and take her home.”

There was a pause, a silence that lasted for a long, long moment. Erwin was probably contemplating if he should trust him or not. At last, he said, “Send me your location.”

He ended the call immediately.

A little shaken after the encounter, Levi thought about his next move, should he wait for Erwin or—

“I would advise against it,” Ymir said, unusually serious. “From what I’ve heard just now, the guy hates your guts. Don’t aggravate the situation any further and don’t make him look for you around the city. He won’t be happy when he finds you.”

Yeah, Levi thought so too.

“Pour me another glass,” he asked, his tone almost pleading. And here he was worrying about tomorrow… and now he could very well find himself sitting behind bars in the next hour.

___

Erwin arrived not even ten minutes later, walking into the bar like he owned the damn place. Last time Levi saw him, he was wearing police uniform, complete with white shirt and dark jacket. Now he was dressed in an unbuttoned coat and grey sweatpants, a combination, which would have looked ridiculous on anyone else. Somehow, Erwin still managed to look formidable.

His eyes were the same icy cold color as Levi had remembered, but, because he was watching him so closely, he could notice the hint of concern that appeared, when Erwin’s gaze landed on Hange.

He crossed the bar in a few short strides, standing protectively over her. He shook her shoulder, then, with more trepidation than Levi would have expected from him, he checked her pulse. The sigh that escaped him was filled with relief, but when Erwin turned to face Levi, none of it was reflected on his face.

“What had happened?”

His voice was quiet, controlled. Even so, the anger was slipping through. Levi suppressed a shiver. He would not let this man intimidate him.

“She exhausted herself to the point of collapsing. Someone must have pushed too much work on her.”

Perhaps, his words were unjust, after all, Levi knew how much Erwin cared about Hange. And he knew that the man did his best to protect her from the burdens of their work. But Erwin didn’t like Levi, and while it was more than understandable, the feeling was also more than mutual.

However, Erwin didn’t seem offended or outraged. He seemed to disregard Levi’s presence completely.

“How much do I have to pay?” he asked Ymir, keeping his hand on Hange’s shoulder.

“It’s on the house,” Ymir replied, almost frantically. If Levi hadn’t been mocked by this girl for the entirety of the evening, he’d say that she looked scared. Even so, it was hard to deny that she certainly was cautious.

“Thank you,” Erwin nodded, “And sorry for the troubles. I’ll take her home now. And you,” he pointed with his chin at Levi. “You’re going with me.”

Levi gulped, but didn’t try to argue. Firstly, he didn’t want to start a scene. And secondly, he wasn’t sure that whatever scene he’d cause, he’d come out of it as a winner.

“Good luck, dude,” Ymir whispered to him. She almost sounded sincere. Did it mean he looked that pathetic?

He reached out to Hange, but one freezing look from Erwin, and Levi pulled his hand back, curling it into a fist.

Fuck, he hoped Hange lived somewhere nearby. Otherwise, one hell of a drive was waiting for him.

Erwin scooped Hange into his arms, effortlessly lifting her up. Her head rolled to his shoulder, nose fitting into the crook of his neck.

In his giant arms, Hange seemed so small, almost vulnerable. As he watched Erwin carry her outside, Levi felt sudden, completely illogical pang of jealousy.

Fuck, now he was just going crazy.

Erwin led him out to the parking lot, where a black sedan was parked.

Levi wanted to help him open the door, but apparently Erwin needed only one hand to hold Hange. As the door to the back seat was opened, he placed her inside, careful not to bump her into anything.

Just before Levi could slide into the backseat beside Hange, pull her head onto his lap, maybe stroke her hair… Erwin faced him once again, his strong jaw clenched and his mouth set in a firm line. “Take the passenger seat.”

Again, Levi complied without another a single complain. The situation was already tense, after all.

As he lowered himself into a passenger seat, Levi felt like his stomach was filled with heavy rocks. As he pulled the seatbelt over his chest, he felt like it was growing tighter with every breath he took.

A moment later, Erwin sat down too, sliding into the driver’s seat and igniting the car. He rode out of the parking lot wordlessly. He continued to drive in the utter silence.

In his life, Levi had enough moments that made his throat seize with worry. He was a criminal, a thief, and their heists didn’t always go according to the plan. But never before he had felt so… on edge. He felt like was standing on the top of the skyscraper, his feet dangerously close to verge of it. A sudden gush of wind, a single uneven breath could send him flying down.

So Levi sat tight, his hands curled into fists at his lap. He stared right ahead, afraid to suddenly meet Erwin’s gaze. He was breathing as quietly as possible, not wanting to upset the fragile balance.

But the balance was ruined, destroyed completely, without a hope of salvation, when they heard a sharp gasp coming from the backseat.

Hange’s head appeared in the space between two front seats a second later. Her eyes were shifting from Levi to Erwin, the gears in her head turning so quickly, Levi could almost hear their movements.

The realization came to her way too swiftly, cruel in its suddenness.

“Fuck,” she took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes with a pained expression. “Erwin, listen, I can explain—”

“You will,” he said, meeting her eyes in the rear view mirror. “After I get you home.”

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, and if Levi thought that the silence was tense and pressing before, this one opened a whole new level. At least, now it wasn’t as quiet as before, because Hange kept shifting in her seat. Levi could practically feel her eyes bore into the back of his head. He would have snapped, would have told her to quit staring like a weirdo, if her unnaturally calm boss wasn’t sitting right next to him.

When Erwin parked the car next to the apartment complex where Hange was evidently living, Levi breathed out a loud sigh of relief. Fuck, it felt like he was holding in a dump for the entirety of the fifteen-minute trip.

Growing up without mother, having only Kenny as a guardian, Levi’s childhood was very different from the other kids. He never shared his classmates’ interests, never went to parties and football matches, preferring to stay at home and help his uncle get ready for his next heist. He never actually had the pleasure to experience the scenario of asking someone on a date. He also never knew the humiliation and shame one would feel if their date was interrupted by his crush’s father. Of course, he and Hange weren’t on a date, and Erwin wasn’t her father, but as the three of them were standing in the elevator, waiting for it to stop at the fourteenth floor, Levi was as worried and mortified as a teenager who got their date ruined.

When they exited the elevator, Hange took the lead, walking towards her apartment with her head lowered and shoulders slumped.

She reached the door and unlocked it, letting them enter first.

“I didn’t expect guests,” chuckling so awkwardly that Levi cringed, she turned the light on, basking her apartment in a faint orange light. “So sorry for the mess.”

Levi would have snort and say that he wasn’t expecting anything else, or he would have scrunch his nose at the amount of clatter that he saw on the coffee table in the living room. However, the presence of Erwin wasn’t exactly making him feel playful.

Hange was either still drunk or the exhaustion was still having its effect on her, but as she walked further into the apartment, she was slightly staggering.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Erwin said, his voice gentler than Levi had ever heard it. With a hand on the small of her back, he guided Hange towards the closed door, where, as Levi guessed, her bedroom was. “You stay here,” he told Levi.

Levi barely resisted the urge to scoff. What, Erwin thought that he was stupid or daring enough to follow? He was certainly not.

After the door after Hange and Erwin closed, Levi continued standing awkwardly in the hallway for another moment. He could faintly hear their voices coming from another room, but they were too quiet for him to understand what the conversation was about.

Ignoring the urge to come closer and eavesdrop, Levi decided to take a look around the apartment.

It was messy – just as Hange had said. Books and papers were scattered around, the coffee table had a a large stain on it, and the couch was peppered with crumbs. But that wasn’t what interested Levi. He was much more interested in learning what her apartment was hiding beyond filth and trash.

Firstly, he headed to the large bookshelf in the living room. As he had expected, there were lots of textbooks there – books on criminology, forensic science, crime prevention and even sociology. The presence of fiction books wasn’t surprising, but the amount of them certainly was. Apparently, the workaholic detective Hange Zoe was also an avid book worm. His lips curling up, he stored that small piece of trivia to the part of his mind that was dedicated to everything he found endearing about Hange.

Next to the books stood a couple of picture frames. One of them showed Hange, squished between two men – Erwin and her other blonde friend, Mike. All three of them were smiling, happy and younger than they were now.

The second photo was of Hange and two adults – her parents, Levi presumed. If the previous photo pictured Hange who was only a couple of years younger, this one showed a much, much younger version. She was barely a teenager there – clad in overalls, with skinned knee, duct-taped glasses and wearing a bright, joyful smile.

Looking at that smile, Levi couldn’t help but smile back.

His mind exhausted and overwhelmed with the events of this day, it started to wander. Levi tried to imagine what would have happened, how different his life could be if Hange had befriended him when they were kids. Would his life be different, though? Or would his upbringing and unfortunate circumstances still bring him where he was now?

There was no way to find out, and that’s why there was no reason to ponder on it.

His curiosity drove him to his next stop, kitchen. He was just about to find out what the great detective Zoe preferred to stash in her refrigerator, when the door of the bedroom opened and closed. Levi heard the sound of heavy footsteps that got closer and closer.

And just like that, his good mood was gone. Just like that, he was on the edge of the skyscraper once again.

When Levi mastered the courage to turn around, Erwin stood at the other side of the small kitchen, hands crossed on his chest. Even in sweatpants and worn-out t-shirt, he still looked as commanding as ever.

“I told you to leave, and never come back. I gave you a chance to escape. Why didn’t you take it?”

Why didn’t he take it? Didn’t Erwin already know his reason?

“I’m sure Hange has explained everything to you.”

“She has.”

And what, Erwin didn’t find her reasoning sufficient enough? Fuck, the blonde bastard pissed him off so much.

“I came because I need to find my uncle and learn what the fuck has happened while I was gone.” Levi said, his anger barely constrained. “My return to the city has nothing to do with Hange or with you.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie, he did come to look for Kenny. The fact that his and Hange’s goals aligned was a mere coincidence.

“If you have problem with us working together, then go and talk it out with Hange, explain why exactly you don’t trust her judgement. Just don’t pour all of your bullshit on me.”

“I trust her judgement,” in the semi-darkness of the kitchen, Erwin’s eyes flashed brightly, like a lightening during a storm. “I just don’t trust you.”

His anger growing, Levi already had a vicious enough retort, ready to spill out of his mouth. But just before he started talking, Erwin continued, interrupting his tirade. “Hange told me you had helped a lot today,” he tilted his head slightly to the side, considering Levi. “She said that this case can’t be solved without you. And while, I have my doubts about it, it seems that Hange has none. I don’t know what the hell she sees in you, but she trusts you and believes in you. And as I’ve said, I trust her.”

Hange… trusted him? Trusted him enough to tell her boss about it? Did she tell him about it? Or was it Erwin’s own assumption? If so, then, surely, Erwin was mistaken, surely, he got the wrong impression. Could he, though? Could a man as cunning and smart as him misjudge his own friend?

Levi forced these thoughts away, they were pointless and confusing. Right now, he had a more pressing question.

“So now what? You’ll let the two of us continue investigation?”

“I will,” Erwin nodded. “But if you hurt Hange in any way…”

Scoffing, Levi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I got it, you’ll hurt me.”

Erwin’s lips curled up in a smile that was devilish enough to send shivers down Levi’s spine. “In more ways than just one, Ackerman.”

But the moment passed, and the chilly expression was gone. “Hange is asleep,” Erwin said, pushing the hair back from his face. Up until this moment, Levi failed to take notice just how disheveled the other man looked. Was he that worried about Hange that he forgot to fix his less than immaculate appearance? “She told me that you can spend the night here.”

“Will you be watching over me all night then?” Levi asked, his voice still gruff, but not as biting as it was before.

“No,” shockingly, but Erwin sounded more at ease as well. “I entrust this investigation solely in Hange’s hands. She’ll be responsible for the end result and she’s responsible for you. Meanwhile, I need to catch some sleep as well.”

With that, Erwin turned around, walking out of the kitchen and heading in the direction of the front door. Reluctantly, Levi followed after him, cautiously watching him put on his boots and coat. Erwin’s hand was on the doorknob, when he twisted his face to the side, meeting Levi’s eyes.

“I’m giving you a second chance, Ackerman. Fuck this up and I’ll come for you.”

Levi nodded, expecting nothing less. From now on, he had to be more careful, he was sure that Erwin’s watchful eye would be following him everywhere. Just another complication to the already complicated case.

As soon as Erwin left, Levi walked into the living room, falling down on a couch. The couch was dusty, his clothes were filthy from rolling around on the floor in Ymir’s apartment, but he was too exhausted to go to shower, and he had no clothes he could change in, anyway.

Sleep was calling to him, more insistently with each passing moment. But before he closed his eyes and let himself succumb to the darkness completely, Levi pulled a phone out of his pocket. He came here to find Kenny, he hoped he would receive a clue about his whereabouts while searching their apartment. He found nothing there, but perhaps…

He dialed Kenny’s number.

One beep, two beeps, three, four…

Levi kept listening to the mechanic, measured sound until the call was disconnected. So, Kenny wasn’t picking up. Levi was disappointed, but not surprised.

He saw no reason in trying to call him once again and put his phone on a coffee table next to the couch. His eyes were already fluttering shut, when a loud vibration jolted him out of his semi-sleepy state.

Levi jumped a little, reaching out to his phone. He unlocked it, staring at the notifications with wide eyes.

He received three messages. From unknown number.

He hurried to open them.

Don’t go poking your nose into this wasp nest, Levi

And tell that detective of yours to quit either

Stop chasing after me. Leave before it’s not too late

With his fingers trembling so much his phone almost fell down, Levi dialed that number. The call went straight into voicemail.

“Fuck!” he threw the phone back onto the table, with more force than was necessary. Fucking Kenny and the games he was playing. Hadn’t he said that he trusted him? Evidently, he didn’t trust Levi enough to let him help with whatever shit he had involved himself.

Well, whether he wanted Levi to help him or not, it didn’t matter. Levi was coming after him. And he wouldn’t let Kenny’s lame threats stop him. Nothing would stop him, not until Levi found out what the fuck happened to his uncle.

Hold on for me, Kenny, he thought, on the verge of sleep, I’m coming for you.

#i know i've said it's 10k words monster but now the wordcount is actually 11k #enjoy hehe #levihan

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wizkiddx · 4 years

Note

i saw that you at least used to write for harry could u do another? like maybe im just a basic bitch but 'only one bed' trope or sm

Summary: honestly just me shitty attempt at the only one bed thing ahah with Harry Holland x reader

no warnings I don’t think apart from my ramabling :)

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

God you were groggy. It had been a long 16 hour flight and you were well and truly completely over this day. Once you’d had some proper sleep, no doubt you will be beyond excited to explore the forest and beaches of this remote island in Indonesia. You were certain it was beautiful, even if you’d arrived in the dead of night so you couldn’t see any of the majesty yet. It was one of the joys of being Tom’s makeup artist - travelling the world and being paid for it? A literal dream.

Except maybe the previous 24 hours. The Holland name carried a lot of weight in the world, but not enough to control typhoons across the tropics - there were some limitations to his power. And yes first class lounges were nice but none had beds to crash on during the 6 hour weather delay. The four of you (Tom, Harry, Andrew and yourself) ended up camping out in a out-the-way corner. Tom got the long sofa; Andrew in one of those weird egg line chairs; you and Harry splayed on the floor. Why you’d had to get up at 4 am to catch a flight that was now not departing till 12 hours later actually hurt to think about - especially because you’d all gone out for a meal the night before that had inevitable went a lot later than planned.

Two connecting flights with a very angry baby later, the four of you were checking in to the only hotel on the island - which was now almost exclusively filled with the production team for Tom’s newest movie. It wasn’t especially big-budget with massive million pound overheads, instead a smaller scale indie film (that you privately thought might earn Tom a number of accolades). But yeh, shooting on an island that received almost no tourism meant everything was different to the usual. None more so than for Tom and his team (including you) who he normally would look after very well, with the nicest hotel rooms or rental homes.

The hotel was basic, you’d known that before you arrived but seeing is believing is it not? Most entertaining though, was seeing Tom’s face. Andrew was a well travelled older guy, he had stayed in some shitholes in his life. Equally you and Harry had both travelled when you were younger (you through inter railing and him in australia), so had stayed in hostels before. But for Hollywood star Tom Holland? The way he tilted his head to the side as if to say ‘really this place?’ did lift your spirits momentarily.

Andrew had got his key first, bidding you all good night with a grunt, then Tom - who still seemed confused as to the whole arrangements. It left you and Harry at the small dingy reception, the warm glow of an old lantern-esque light fixing illuminating the place. The guy behind the desk was a smiley local and greeted you warmly, if incorrectly.

“Ah and finally the couple I see!” He spoke with a thick accent but still very clear English which had you questioning if this was just a translational error. Harry looked at you instantly, his eyes wide which made you scoff - him joining in, shaking his unruly curly mop emphatically.

“No no we um… we aren’t together.” All the while Harry pointed between the two of you, communicating through actions rather than just the language, given that you were both the very typical Brits abroad who hadn’t learnt the language of the place they were visiting.

“Still under Holland name?” The guy asked in a perplexed manner, flicking through a book filled with cursive scribbles and scanning to see if he’d made a mistake. He checked one, then looked up nervously before checking the same page once again- you saw where this was going. ”We, we only have couples room down for you though? 3 double rooms is the booking for Holland.”

It was late, you both stunk of a combination of plane and BO, you both just wanted your individual and respective beds.

“Well can we get another room then?” Harry didn’t quite snap but there was still an impatientcy to his voice, which came out whenever he was a little agitated. Seeing the slightly worried look the mans eyes, you leaned onto the desk with a genuine smile.

“Sorry we know its last minute and its not your fault, we’ve just had a really long flight.”

“I am terribly sorry miss but we are only small hotel and Hollywood has filled us up. I have no other rooms. I am truly sorry sir, ma’am.” The guy went from looking worried to terrified as Harrys jaw tensed up, you naturally squeezed his arm to try and ground him, instantly deciding that you’d just work it out.

“No no it’s not your fault, don’t worry we’ll figure it out. Can I just get the key?”

Harry stepped back and let youtakeover proceedings, signing all the insurance documents etc and asking the man about the breakfast arrangements and such, though you saw him furiously typing on his phone and by the buzzing in your pocket- presumed he was messaging the group of you Tom, Andrew and himself.

Once finished the guy pointed you on your way, up two flights of stairs and down a hall. The whole time Harry was muttering about how useless the other two were for not replying and also for making the wrong booking in the first place. If only you hadn’t been the last two to checkin, then it would’ve been someone else’s problem.

He felt especially guilty just because you were the only girl- he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, hence why he was trying to locate his brother so they could share tonight till they got it figured out. The tension, combined with sleep deprivation, was palpable as you both walked in silence toward the room - Harry was trying to formulate a plan in his head as they did so. And honestly? You just couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. So, once you reached the door 57 holding the physical key (old school, rather than a key card) you just decided to address it.

“Will you chill please?”

“Well if my idiot broth-“

“Oh leave him be for god sake. If you’re okay with it I really don’t mind sharing with you tonight?” Not bothering to laugh at his slightly shocked expression with mouth hanging a little open, you fiddled with the key until the lock clicked open. From the entrance you had a pretty clear view of the whole room and… well, lets just say dated would be a fair expression - when compared to what you were used to? The floor was tiled and the bed was a small double, with some funky and slightly washed out prints of blue and red on the cover. The pillows looked a little limp, more like glorified pieces of cardboard than anything fluffy and comfortable. The walls were that yellowy magnolia shade that everyone in the UK had gone insane for in the 80s and there was an old school wooden wardrobe in the corner.

Home for 5 weeks.

With a shrug of your shoulders you entered, dumping your personal and work suitcases by the far wall carelessly - the higher priority action being to collapse on the bed. Doing so with an overdramatic huff, you let your eyes close but payed special attention to the delayed footsteps of Harry as he entered, then the slight creaking noise as he perched on the other side of the bed - no doubt looking at you, at least slightly fearfully.

The relationship between you and Harry was complex to say the least. Well no… it should be, not on the face of it. You had met through work and made friends. And you wished it was that simple but alas, nothing ever really is. When you’d first worked with Tom you were in the tail end of a relationship you had long since forgotten about - literally meaningless, not worth the time and effort you’d put into it. From the start you’d had a feeling Harry was more interested in you than the average co-worker (even if your job and therefore co-workers were anything but normal and average) but you were in a relationship so nothing ever came.

Then almost as if synchronised, just as you got out your relationship, Harry threw himself in the deep end with a girl he’d met through his family friends. Then the roles were somewhat reversed, you now spent a good chunk of your day just entertaining yourself with thoughts of the curly headed, slightly awkward, very-passionate-about-tea-making Holland. The cliche is so real - your always want what you cannot have.

However, a couple months ago his relationship had fizzled and faded away leaving both of you in a sort of no mans land. The sort of not wanting to ruin the friendship situation. The subject was never broached by either you - except you assumed he was being tormented in a similar way to how you were by his big brother and Andrew. Never publicly, yet whenever you found yourself alone in a room with one of them (being Tom’s makeup artist that happened often enough) there would always be a sly dig. The chemistry was so ‘obvious even a blind man could see it’. Somehow though, weeks of this and your were still stuck. Stuck in the middle.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” His voice was gruffer and hoarser from the long journey but you could hear the self-consciousness and naivety in his tone, without having to peel your eyes open and look at his face.

“I know your not a murder and plus, we shared the airport floor this morning… this is pretty much the same.” He hummed in acknowledgement so you carried on “and plus your pint sized.” That earned you a playful shove in the side as you sniggered, before pulling yourself up so you we now sitting next to him, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. His brown eyes searched deeply into yours, as if physically checking for any hint of regret or hesitation. “Don’t even dare offering to go on the floor.”

“Okay okay okay!” Holding his hands up in surrender, you both laughed, breaking the peace of the late night of the remote Indonesian island. Once an impressive yawn interrupted you though, Harry proclaimed it was time for bed and shooed you into the bathroom to get changed and sorted.

Honestly you were too tired and lazy to dig out your cleanser and skin stuff, instead opting to just splash a bit of water on your face before swapping into your pj shorts and an old tattered oversized tee. Once done you and Harry swapped, him coming out a couple minutes later in basketball shorts and a black loose fitting tee.

It wasn’t awkward so to speak, more a sort of excited-tense atmosphere, which there was no doubt Harry was mainly responsible. The boy was jittery and on edge, which to put simply, you didn’t have the energy to reciprocate.

With a quiet wish of goodnight to each other, Harry flicked off the bedside lamp and you both rolled to your respective edges of the bed, a large space of no mans land between you. In the middle. You know the first time you share a room with someone and you overthink everything? When you don’t want to move about or fidget too much in case it disturbs the other? When your listening intently to their breathing, in the hope it’ll even out and only then will you feel able to fall asleep yourself?

Well it doesn’t work when both of you are doing it. When both of you are professional over thinkers.

God knows how long it took till you gave up, favouring sleep over your worries and concerns. So you flipped over, no doubt rocking the whole bed, turning to face his back that was still huddled almost teetering off the edge of the bed. The only light within the whole room was that coming under the actually scarily large gap between the floor and the door to the hallway. It was just enough to see the back of Harry’s curls and you must’ve fallen asleep trying to trace all the torturous and windy routes of the strands.

///////////

In the morning the process of waking up didn’t come easy to you as normal for many reasons; the long day prior; the jet lag; the weird surroundings. So you stayed in this sort of blissful haze for probably longer than you should. Half aware but not really; half asleep but not quite. In the middle of sleep and alertness. Therefore it took you longer than it should have to notice the extra weight on the dip of your waist. Not anything alarming, just a presence you were absolutely not used to. It was only when you shifted a bit to lie further on your back, that enough of a stimulus from the added pressure made you actually open your eyes blearily. And sure enough, a limp hand looked to have casually and unconsciously been thrown over your side.

As if in slow motion, you traced the arm backwards - first with your eyes, but then having to twist your neck too. Only then could you fully see the browny ginger haired boy who was lowkey spooning you? It was certainly a way to fully wake you up, breath halted to a stand still in your lungs, in fear of disturbing him and having to confront what would almost certainly be an awkward situation.

There was still a safe hands width distance between the two of you except for the rogue arm. Harry’s head was placed to the edge of his pillow, mouth slightly parted as his breathing slightly tickled the wispy hairs on the back of your neck. He looked so peaceful and calm - a difference to the normal Harry who, even on a good day, took great pleasure in meticulously picking things apart and being a bit cynical. It was part of his ‘charm’; but seeing him like this was a type of vulnerability he rarely chose to show.

To be fair he was asleep, he dint realise he was exposing himself in this way.

Finding yourself a little transfixed (a bit creepy but hey) on the natural curves and definition of his face, you ever so carefully rolled over in the bed to face him. It stopped you from craning your neck and gave the sleepy boy a slight nudge, making him tense his arm a little more tightly round you.

He settled quickly though, giving you ample opportunity to just observe what was going on . Both right in front of you… and what the hell was going on in your head. Because to be honest it was an overwhelming amount of emotion thoughts for the early morning.

Somehow you must’ve eventually drifted off once again because the next thing you were aware of was a shuffling from immediately next to you. This time though, you were instantly aware of exactly the situation you found yourself in and chose to keep up the pretence of sleep - a little interested in how Harry would play it.

You heard a small gasp, having to suppress a chuckle at what you imagined Harry’s sleepy and panicked face looked like. That lasted a couple of moments, before you felt him painstakingly slowly peel his hand from your waist and if you were being 100% honest… you heart sort of sank.

What you had been expecting?- you don’t know and really there was really no reason to be disappointed. Yet, you still felt this deflated and disappointed feeling, hit your chest especially hard. Perhaps it was because of your focus on that emptyness that you forgot you were supposed to be pretending to be asleep./.

Because when he had delicately brushed the side of your face to tuck a rogue bit of hair behind your ear - your eyes flickered open. Like a rabbit caught in headlights, Harry froze, his hand still hovering over your jaw. Equally, you didn’t know what to do. Because really… do friends tuck hair behind the others ears? And do friends look at each other with this matched expression of confusion and fear?

It took a painfully long time (though in reality was probably only a matter of seconds) before the boy retracted his hand, suddenly sitting up from his reclined position down at you. Mirroring his actions, you both ended up sitting, facing the opposite wall, bodies closer than they needed to be in the double bed. Both still very much in the middle.

“I er-“

“-No no don’t… was nice of you” He had been about to apologise which you didn’t want to hear. You didn’t want to hear ‘ I didn’t mean it’ - you wanted him to mean it. In response Harry nodded jerkily, and from your peripheries, noticed he was searching your face for any sign of emotion.

“Still can’t believe this all happened… I-I didn’t disturb you too much did I?” He sounded really nervous. You were never like this with each other. So static and forced.

“No no… I slept really good actually.” Your register was quieter, waiting till you’d finished speaking before looking over at him with a self conscious smile.

“Ah I’m glad… I um-I did too.” The silence returned and the atmosphere just felt sharp. It felt like you were quite literally walking either side of a knife edge. It made you chew on your bottom lip, playing with the slightly frayed edges of the vintage quilt.

“Y/n- I look…” He’d bolted upright and voice was more raised than normal for the morning. “This is gonna sound so fucking weird, especially cos we’re literally in the same bed but... but I was thinking we could maybe go on a hike or something together?” What he seemed to be suggesting didn’t match the level of panic that was conveyed in his body language which confused you. And what the bed had to do with it… was yet to make sense in your head.

“I think Andrew said we’re getting some tour of island this afternoon so-“

“ I kinda meant just you and me.”

The penny dropped and it had you focusing all energy on processing what was happening - understandably causing Harry to only worry more with the lack of response. “I’m sorry if I’ve ruined ever-“

“No I-I….I’d really like that too.”

“Oh er… well… really?” The sheer shock made you giggle, feeling the two of you sliding back into the normal dynamic.

“Normally a boy has to buy me a drink before he gets in my bed but….” A mischevious smirk that spread across your lips gave Harry the final confirmation that just maybe you were interested too, making him scoff and quietly chuckle.

It was odd; mainly because this was the two of you being incredibly vulnerable and honest with each other - something that you hadn’t allowed yourself to be for fear of messing things up. And then one lazy morning, both with morning breath and slightly puffy eyes, it changed. For the first time when you looked at him, he really saw - and vice versa. You were still in the middle of something, yet it was completely different.

This time you were in the middle together figuratively as well as literally. In the middle of the bed, closer than you needed to be, but not wanting to retreat - while you both just looked shyly and bashfully at each… Eventually you lips hesitantly met in the middle.

#Harry Holland #Harry Holland fluff #Harry holland x y/n #harry holland x reader #tom holland

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brelione · 4 years

Text

Love and Hate (The Best Boys)

dude come on. you said you’d upload the next chapter on christmas and now it’s been a whole week after and it’s still not out. :(, hi! when are you posting the next chapter of tbb??, tbb????, Are you posting the next chapter of best boys soon? I miss her, when will you be posting the next part of the best boys series??, Ok I’m over TBB I’m just gonna say she ends up with Blah Blah and they live happily ever after, the end. Thank you for the amazing read, it has been fun❤️, TBB is literally the last series I have to finish before I can finally peace out of the shithole that is the OBX fandom for good but like no rush or anything baby❤️,When do you think you’ll be posting the last chapters of TBB?, Hey queen how’s the writing for best boys going,

Series Masterlist

SHES HEREEEE

Yes, im aware this chapter is all over the place. I went through writing four different versions of this chapter and this is the one that I decided to go with. I know that this one is kind of a little ahfioshviowenvionae but it all comes together next chapter (I already started writing the next chapter). Im so sorry that this is so late. I’ve been having issues for a little bit. My grandfather and my dog passed away and I recently had a relapse and I think that’s why it was taking me so long. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3

Warnings:Nothing really, swearing and unedited. Also im sorry if you dont like this chapter but like....yeah.

You were awoken to the sounds of screaming.Topper ended up at the foot of the bed, Kelce still clinging onto you.Rafe was absent from his spot but the mattress was still warm and had a slight dent which let you know that he hadnt been gone long.

You had spent most of the night trying to find the perfect spot on the mattress, one arm thrown over kelce and your heel against the back of Toppers thigh.It seemed like it hadnt been a super long time since the sun had risen which meant that it was probably around seven in the morning by now.

Your heart was thumping in your chest, trying to pay attention to what the voices were shouting.Something about a mess and irresponsibility but you couldnt hear much besides that.Rafe stomped up the stairs, opening his door.He was shirtless, face red from yelling and his eyes slightly watery.You sat up, making Kelce grumble.

Rafe’s jaw was slightly dropped, his nose beginning to run and his body trembling.“Hey, what happened?”You asked, gaining Kelce’s attention.Topper’s eyes opened slightly, looking over at Rafe.The tall boy didnt say anything, he just dragged his feet across the room and sat back on the bed, mumbling.You were hesitant to grip his hand, squeezing lightly.

He just stared at a wrinkle in the blanket but the sound of something breaking downstairs told you that it had been more than just bickering.Kelce was worried, knowing that his parents had gotten home late last night and would see the mess he had created. “He doesnt want me living here anymore.”Rafe spoke up, a few tears rolling down his cheeks.

You pulled him closer to you, arms around his shoulders as he sobbed, your fingers rubbing against the back of his neck.He squeezed you tightly when he head footsteps coming up the stairs, silently praying to any god that would listen that it wouldnt be Ward.Kelce’s phone kept buzzing but he ignored it, knowing exactly what it was.

He knew that it was coming and he would be lying if he said that he didnt expect it, nervous the whole night as he waited for his phone to blow up.“What are you gonna do?”Topper asked.As much as you wanted to scold him for asking that when Rafe clearly didnt want to talk about it it was still something that you had also been wondering.

Rafe didnt answer, taking in a deep, shaky breath that hurt his ribs before picking up his head and looking over to his friend. “I dont know.”He admitted.His voice hurt your heart, the realisation kicking in that there wasnt really many places that he could go.

Kelce’s phone buzzed again, all of your eyes falling on him.He sighed, glancing at his screen.He had missed calls from his parents, dozens of text in all caps telling him to come home immediately. “They found the door.”He replied, keeping his voice calm.A new wave of silence washed over the room, not knowing what to say to that.

Your eyes watered as you remembered how simple life was a few weeks ago, all of you eating breakfast, watching criminal minds and laughing as Topper recorded it all on his snapchat.Now everything was completely falling apart.You didnt say anything, trying to think of a solution.Rafe couldnt go to Kelce’s house or Topper’s house since Topper’s mother had one of those security cameras outside of her home and she’d recognize him immediately.

She was still pissy about Topper’s accident, she’d explode if he let friends over. “SO what happens now?”Topper asked.You were all out of ideas.A simple drive or icecream or a movie couldnt solve any of this. “I mean...think about it.We’re adults, right?Child protective services cant stop us if we leave.”Kelce muttered.Rafe nodded, snapping his fingers.

“Yeah, yeah!You’re right.”He agreed, causing your eyes to widen.They were acting insane. They couldnt be serious about just getting up and leaving forever, right? “No, no hes not.We cant just-we cant just leave!”You exclaimed.They were actually going crazy.How could they even think like that? “Why?What do you have here, (Y/N)?”He asked.You paused, thinking about it.

You didnt really have anything.You had your house of course but other than that you had nothing but memories and your boys.You didnt want to admit that he was right, letting out a quiet sigh. “But leaving forever isnt the answer.”You muttered.Rafe rubbed your back, shaking his head. “Doesnt have to be forever, baby.”He answered.

“But- but just cause we arent kids doesnt mean we cant be registered as missing people.They’ll come after us.”You told them.You knew that nobody outside of this room actually cared about you enough to report you as missing but you were scrambling through your thoughts, desperately hunting for a reason to stay on the shitty island that you had learned to love so much.Topper shrugged, not really caring.

“Guys, guys. Okay, look. You’re all fucked, ill admit it. But thats fine! Are you guys forgetting that I still have a house- you guys can just stay there until this whole thing blows over just like you always have!”You reminded them, hoping they’d agree. “This isnt gonna blow over, (Y/N). I cant come back here.”Rafe told you, becoming aggravated.

“THEN MOVE IN! All of you guys, you can just move in, okay? You dont have to leave- I still have my moms money! We’ll figure it out as we go and…. And it’ll be fine.”You insisted. “Move in with you?”Rafe asked. You nodded, wiping your nose. “You practically live with me already, it wont be that different.”You told him, gripping his hand.

It was a messy blur as Rafe packed his things, grabbing anything that he thought could be important. A photo of his mother, his birth certificate and diploma, laptop and ipad, the Frozen ll record. Kelce and Topper just watched, neither of them ready for anything like this so early in the morning.

Maybe if you werent so tired and upset you wouldnt have said it, but here you were in Rafe’s truck, a dufflebag full of his things at your feet with the boys in the backseat as he drove to your house, a few tears rolling down his cheeks as the thoughts finally took over his brain. Kelce had got aggravated and shut down his phone entirely, staring out the window.

The last thing you were expecting was to come down your road only to see a car that was practically falling apart already in your driveway, a tall man with his hands over his forehead as he tried to look in your windows. “What the fuck….”Rafe muttered, reaching for the door handle when you gripped his hand. “Dont, we dont know what he’s doing.”You told him, hoping he’d listen.

Turns out he wasnt the one you had to worry about, Kelce swinging his door open and sprinting up your driveway before anyone could even stop him. Wherever Kelce went Topper went, the boy struggling to get the seatbelt over his cast before jumping out of the truck and nearly falling into a puddle. “ESCUSE ME! MR SIR! WHAT ARE YOU DOING LOOKING IN MY HOUSE?”Kelce shouted, purposely making his voice deeper.

The man turned, confused as to why two half asleep teenage boys were walking towards him. “Your house?”The man asked. “Yes, sir. You ever heard of a gay couple before?”Topper asked, making Kelce break character for a moment.

“Well, no, its not that. Its just that I thought this was someone elses house.”The man muttered, confused. You had slid down your seat, hoping that the man wouldnt see you. “He’s about to leave.”Rafe whispered.

“Who’s the other guy in the car?”The man asked, pointing to Rafe’s figure. Kelce glanced over at Topper with wide eyes, trying to think. “Our son.”Kelce replied, cringing the moment he said it. The man only looked more confused, looking between the two boys. “How old are you guys?”The man asked, clearly not buying their story.

“Excuse me? Are you saying that we’re too old to have a son? I did not spend years training for a medical degreee to have some random old man come and tell us how old our son can be!”Topper exclaimed. “I didnt spend years trying to find a surrogate and figuring out a way to make a robot nanny for this!”He sighed, trying his best not to smile.

“Could you please leave the property before we call the police?”Kelce asked. The man was beyond confused at this point, quickly making his way to his shitty car before slowly backing out of the driveway, eyes still scanning the area before he gave up and went down the street.

You let out a sigh of relief, moving to get up when Rafe placed his hand on top of your head to keep you down. “Hes coming around again.”He whispered to you, taking in a shaky breath and holding it in his lungs as the car passed a second time. Topper and Kelce were standing by the door, staring at Rafe almost as telling him to get out and make a run for it.

“Open the door in 3...2…”You didnt wait, jumping out and running towards the house, typing in the key pad as quick as you could, Topper’s hand pushing you inside. “Here he comes again!”He exclaimed, coming in right behind you along with the others before Rafe slammed the door shut and locked it, letting out a laugh.

“Oh god, that was scary.”He chuckled. Kelce and Topper nodded as well, eventually laughing. “Was that my dad?”You asked. “Maybe.”Topper answered. Now that you thought about it, your dad didnt same important. Nothing did. You lived on a huge rock that’s floating around space and you’re concerned about your dad when your boyfriends best friends are moving in.

“What’d you tell him?”You asked. “We told him that we’re a gay couple, Topper’s a doctor and Rafe is our child.”Kelce replied. You giggled, snorting. “I mean, as you should.”You replied. “Hell yeah.”Kelce grinned. Topper tapped at his arm. “Bro, you wanna get married?”Topper asked. Kelce laughed again, nodding.

“I’ll get baptised and get you guys married!”Rafe volunteered, all of you turning to look at him. “Did you just say baptised?”Kelce asked. Rafe nodded, eyebrows furrowing. “Is that not the right word?”He asked. Topper shook his head. “The word is ordained.”He informed the tall boy. “He’s trying his best.”You replied, sitting down on the chair that you werent used to sitting in.

“You think he’s gonna come back?”You asked. Topper groaned, sitting down. “Well, I hope not. I dont want my husband and I to have to fight him.”He grinned. You rolled your eyes, changing positions in the chair. “Did he look like me?”You asked, leaning your head against the arm rest, groaning when Rafe pushed your legs aside and sat down with you.

“Not really… he had rat tails for eyebrows.”Kelce replied, putting his fingers over his eyebrows. “Do I have rat tail eyebrows?”You asked, grinning when Rafe reached forward and poked your eyebrow, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “You wish.”He replied. “Fuck off.”You answered. “Dont be fucking rude.”He grinned, kissing you quickly before pulling away with a small smile.

You were shocked, trying to hide your surprise. It wasnt like you werent used to kissing Rafe by now, it was just that he had never done it in front of the boys before. They looked nearly as confused as you, the thought of Rafe kissing you in front of them never even being a concern until now. They were used to him getting most of your love and attention but that had just stirred something within them.

“So how are we gonna do this? I dont know about you guys but im not going back to my house anytime soon.”Kelce announced. Rafe lifted his head, looking over to the boy. “You could always sneak in your own window to grab your things...maybe wait until theyre at work. What about you, Top?”Rafe asked, turning his attention to the blonde boy.

“What do I have at my house that I need? Like, really need.”He asked, grinning when none of you could answer. “Problem solved.”He replied. “What time is it?”Rafe asked, breaking the silence. “Ten.”Kelce replied, closing his eyes as he leaned against the couch. “Im going upstairs to take a nap then.”Topper yawned, slowly making his way down the hall into the first floor guest room.

It was arguably the worst since it also worked as your moms office, a queen bed pushed into the corner. You wiggled out of Rafe’s grip, smiling when he whined. You went into the kitchen, grabbing a poptart. For the situation you felt rather calm, opening the silver package and taking a bite of one of the sweet pastries.

The energy in the house felt different than it had yesterday. You werent sure why, maybe it was just the comfort of knowing that the boys were going to be living with you now and you wouldnt have to worry as much about Rafe or Topper’s relationship with his mom.

“So how are we gonna handle this?”Kelce asked, confusing you. “The house, I mean. You have this whole house and like...30 million dollars. We can literally redecorate however we want, maybe even clean out your moms office if youre okay with it.”He suggested.

You nodded, the idea of getting the memory of your mother cleansed from your life sounded appealing. His excitement took over as he opened his amazon prime app, looking for new decor. “How do you feel about your moms room?”He asked, not wanting to push your limits. You shrugged, swallowing part of the pastry. “Shes not using it.”You replied, surprised by how morbid you sounded.

He simply nodded, shifting in his seat as he added things to his cart. “Can we redo your room? It’s been the same color since we were fourteen.”Rafe suggested. You shrugged, not really caring. You didnt spend a large amount of time in your bedroom anyways. You scrolled through your phone for a few minutes, seeing a little red bubble next to your messaging app that let you know that you had gotten a text. Curious, you opened it.

As soon as you saw who it was a pit grew in your stomach, eyes widening. It was her. “Sweet words, (Y/N).”The text read. You knew that it was your uncle just trying to mess with you but it still caused your anxiety to skyrocket, deciding to block the number and place your phone between your thighs, taking in a deep breath through your nose.

Topper dragged his feet, coming out of the room with a frown. “That’s the most uncomfortable bed in all of history.”He muttered, sitting down on the couch instead. “You can go upstairs.’You reminded him, feeling your phone buzz against your inner thigh.

He just hummed, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “How long was I in there?”He asked. “Literally not even ten minutes.”Kelce replied, still scrolling. “Did I miss anything?”Topper asked. You didnt reply, breaking off another piece of the poptart. “We’re gonna redecorate the house.”Kelce answered. Topper nodded, lifting his head.

“Does that mean that office too?”Topper asked. You nodded, staring at a spot on your carpet. “Does that mean we get to open the file cabinet in the guest room?”He asked, all of you looking over at him. The thought made you feel nauseous. Even if she wasnt here to yell at you you knew that opening the file cabinet would still scare you anyways.

“If theres a dead body in there I swear to god-”You muttered, earning a chuckle from Rafe. “A body couldnt fit in there.”he replied, making your eyebrows furrow. “How do you know where bodies can fit?”You asked. “No, no. Like, its not….well...maybe a raccoon body.”He admitted. “Rafe!”You exclaimed, smacking his thigh.

He rolled his eyes, pulling you into his lap. “There’s no raccoon body.”He answered. “I think theres a raccoon body.”Kelce replied. “Theres not.”You answered. Topper grinned, skipping into the room and beginning to open the cabinet, the three of you following him. “Okay, who votes raccoon body?”He asked, his hand on the knob.

Kelce raised his hand, grabbing your arm to make you hold your hand up as well. “Ready?”Topper asked before pulling the door open, looking into it. His face fell immediately, not expecting this. “What?”You asked, stepping past Kelce and looking into the cabinet.Guns were being held by small metal pieces, multiple clear bags full of plants and needles on the floor, bullets on sashes hanging with the guns.

The two of you just stared, ignoring Rafe and Kelce until they came up behind you, equally as confused. “What the fuck?”Rafe asked, seeing the bags. Kelce slammed the doors shut, locking it. “We’re not telling anyone about this, right?”He asked, looking at all of you. “What are we gonna do with all that? We cant just keep it here!”Topper argued.

Rafe shrugged, resting his elbow on your shoulder. “We smoke the weed and throw the guns in the river, obviously.”Rafe answered. “We’re not smoking weed, Rafe.”You answered. “Well your mom didnt have a liscense to carry, right?”Kelce asked. You shook your head, figuring it would be hung up somewhere in the house to remind you of the power she had.

“Right, okay. So we cant call the cops and we cant keep it here.”Kelce answered, clicking the lock on the cabinet. “What’d your mom even do for a living?”Topper asked. You frowned, thinking back. You never really knew what your mother did, you just stayed quiet and hoped you wouldnt make her angry. She’d disappear for months, money would appear in your bank account, she’d pay the bills aned thats all you needed to know.

She’d have long phone calls with people in her office, grounding you if you even dared to listen. “I dont know.”You replied, cringing at how stupid you sounded. “She has these cabinets all over the house, doesnt she?”Kelce asked. “The one in her room is actual files.”You told him, hoping that there were no sorts of hidden things in her room.

“Should we go check?” Rafe asked, out of the room with a grin before any of you could even answer. You sighed, slightly annoyed that he was treating this like a scavenger hunt. “Its been here this whole time, im sure nothings gonna happen.”Kelce assured you, patting you on the shoulder before his fingers tickled your arm and wrist, gripping your hand and bringing you upstairs.

“I ordered some tapestries, succulents, fake vines and some new blankets for our new movie room.”He told you, nearly slipping up. “Movie room?”You asked, nearly slipping on the stairs. “Your mom has a big tv, I figured it could be like a second living room if you’re comfortable with that.”He answered, pausing at the top of the stairs so he could wait for you.

Rafe was in your mother’s room, carefully pulling on the drawers, eventually finding out that the top one was locked. He looked over at you, silently asking if you knew where the key was. You shook your head, letting go of Kelce’s hand and opening the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

Your mother kept most of your medical documents and anything like that to herself along with basically everything that proved you existed. Baby photos, ultra sounds, old school tests. “We could just move it into the other guest room.”Rafe muttered, hoping he wasnt making you upset. You ignored him, looking through all the little colored tags, your eyes falling on a silver tag, your eyebrows furrowing. No other ones had that color.

You picked it up, sitting down and reading it over. The words were all bundled together, ink scratches and smudges told you that it wasnt a serious document. The only word you could make out was ‘arsonist’. Nothing else was eligible. “Can we take it right now?”You asked, placing the paper on the floor and closing the drawer. Rafe nodded, Kelce grabbing one side while Rafe grabbed the other. Topper grinned, leaning against your mothers unused desk.

“I would help but my arms broken.”he laughed, watching as Kelce struggled, walking backwards. “Some moral support would be great.”Kelce rolled his eyes. You grinned, slowly clapping. “Great job, guys. You’re doing great moving that illegal file cabinet.”You held back a laugh. They turned carefully, shuffling as they eventually got to the guest bedroom.

“How do you feel about this?”Topper asked, sitting down on the chair. You sighed, shrugging. “I mean, you know. Its not that I dont love the idea of you guys being here but like… its the circumstances.”You answered, sighing when he pulled you closer with his good arm, rubbing your back. “Thanks a lot for this, though. Like in all seriousness im really grateful that you’re in my life.”He blushed, looking up at you. You smiled, kissing his nose lightly.

“I mean, I do provide you with half of the drama in your life.”You giggled, kissing him gently. “Where does the other half come from?”He asked. You shrugged, sighing. “Probably you.”You answered. “I cant believe you’d say that to me! You know im at a bad place in life and you put me in this terrible situation when you know that!”He fake cried, bursting into laughter.

“Kourtney dont laugh at me!”You exclaimed. You felt a vibration under your feet, hearing a loud, dramatic sigh and the sound of skin colliding. They had successfully moved the file cabinet, the door closing as their loud footsteps hit the floor as they entered your mother’s room again. Rafe took a moment to look around, sometimes forgetting that the room even existed.

It was the biggest room in the house, the ceiling going up at least twenty feet with only glass separating the room from the outside world. His mind wandered, thinking of all the fun nights the two of you could have in here watching the stars or listening to the rain.

The bed was large and still, the blankets and sheets unwrinkled and untouched. He understood why you were creeped out by the house now, feeling like he didnt belong in the room. You all took turns trying to figure out what the writing said, eventually deciding that it probably wasnt even in english. “Should we put it through google translate?”Rafe asked, staring at the paper.

Kelce shook his head. “Nah, its not reliable. I tried using it for spanish class in freshman year and I got detention.”He replied. “Well thats definitely not spanish. Maybe its like…. Ancient text.”Topper suggested, causing you to frown. “I highly doubt that my mother would know an ancient text.

Maybe we should just leave it.”You answered. Although you werent exactly satisfied with it you just didnt feel like spending your time trying to decode a random paper. They didnt seem satisfied either but didnt want to push you, putting the paper down on the desk where it would be safe from your footsteps.

Of course the boys just couldnt stay at the same place for long periods of time, deciding to suggest that you guys go out to a store to get some paint for the boring walls. You agreed, the four of you getting into your car instead of Rafe’s truck, locking all the doors and windows before you left.

Kelce didnt suggest a McDonalds run which caused you to frown, knowing that he was probably too stressed to want to eat. You guys went into Walmart with one goal, heading right for the paint section and looking at the wall of colors. “Lets get four colors and kind of just make it up as we go.”Kelce muttered, looking at all the different shades.

“We could all pick one out.”Topper suggested, reaching forward and picking a bright green. You agreed, picking a shade of light purple, watching as Kelce picked the color toffee biscuits and Rafe went for cotton blue. You doubted any of the colors would actually look good together but that wasnt the point of the project.

It was more about making the room look fun rather than nice. Kelce grabbed a few large paint brushes, the four of you leaving before you could get distracted by anything that you didnt need. Topper decided to get right to work, spilling some paint on the floor as he dragged the brush along the wall, creating bright stripes.

“I have an artistic vision! Trust the process!”He exclaimed, feeling your judgemental eyes on him. You didnt say anything, watching Kelce struggle to connect his phone to your speaker, playing the first song on his playlist.

Line without a hook. Topper looked over at you, almost like he was silently asking you if you had told the boys about his top secret playlist. You shrugged, not wanting to give anything away to the others.

“Oh my god, I love this song.”Rafe dunked his brush in the light blue, making a smiley face on the wall. “Can I paint an onion?”He asked. You raised your eyebrows, not understanding why he wanted to put an onion on the wall.

“Ogres are like onions! We have layers!”Kelce laughed. “Who is we? Are you an ogre, Kelce?”Topper asked, not taking his eyes off of the bright stripes, painting a circle on the top. “Topper Harry Katherine Thornton, are you painting a penis on my wall?”You asked, connecting the dots.

He grinned, ignoring you. “Of course not.”He replied, painting frantically so that you couldnt stop him, green drops rolling down the wall. You picked up your paint brush, painting two circles quicklly before pushing the brush into the center of each, laughing to yourself.

“Guys, really?”Rafe asked. “Cant we make the wall wholesome?”He asked. You shook your head, a smile on your face. “Says you of all people, Rafe.”You shook your head. “She got you there.”Topper replied, dragging the brush across the painting and blending it out so there was no longer a penis on your wall.

“What are you doing now?”You asked, wanting to one up him. “What are you doing now?” He mocked you. Somehow you ended up splashing Topper with paint and getting tackled into the mattress as he held the paintbrush over you, trying to get the bright green liquid on your face while you held his arm back.

“Im gonna murder you!”You laughed, rolling over under him so your face was against the mattress. “Im gonna paint your hair!”He laughed, holding the brush just above it. “Topper, dont mess with her hair.”Kelce took the brush away.

Topper groaned, falling next to you on the mattress. His eyes were closed, the sun from the window casting a beautiful glow over his face, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, your arm resting on his torso.

It didnt take long for painting to be forgotten, a few cheap bristles sticking to the wall with messes of colorful lines and unfilled shapes. The song changed, followed by a loud gasp from Rafe. “This is my favorite song!”He smiled, hitting his knees with his fists repeatedly.

He didnt know what about it made him so happy, whenever he heard it it reminded him of you guys. “You know what we should do?”Topper asked. “No.”Kelce replied while Rafe rewinded the song to listen to his favorite part again.

“We should make soup. Like, spicy soup with potatoes.”He replied, mouth watering. “We could just order soup.”Kelce replied, not in the mood to go downstairs and hunt for ingredients. “Order soup from where?”Topper asked. Kelce simply shrugged, shifting around and putting his arms under his body.

That had been a week ago. Since then a lot had happened. You guys had developed a system, Kelce could do his laundry on Saturdays, Rafe on Mondays and Topper’s just got mixed in with yours.

It was a love and hate relationship to have them there with you. You didnt regret your decision but sometimes things would get difficult. Grocery shopping was the worst since nobody could decide what they wanted and you had all agreed not to eat out as much.

“We need an actual meal, we cant just eat chips for everything.”Topper would grumble, realising he didnt even really know how to cook. That just lead to late flights of searching for recipes o pinterest and watching Gordon Ramsey tiktoks until they decided to try and make bake and shake chicken. That didnt really work out well, having to open all of your windows and get the smoke out of your house.

Then you guys decided to take a new approach, finding a ton of frozen pizzas and ingredients for sushi. Kelce was the only one who had any idea of what he was doing since he had always been talented in the kitchen, specifically with breakfast. That became more of a safe meal for you guys, making extra food in the morning to eat later for dinner until you got sick of toast, eggs and bacon.

Kelce ended up banishing you all to the pool so that he could decorate properly, vines hanging from the door ways and landscape tapestries hanging in your living room, hallway and your mother’s old bedroom. “How long do you think he’s gonna be?”You asked, floating on your back in the shallow end, letting out a yelp when Topper grabbed you and dragged you to the deep end.

“I dont know, probably like three days.”He replied, finally letting go once you were in the middle of the pool. “We could survive three days in the pool.”You replied, watching Rafe shake his head. “With my allergy to the sun?”He asked, making you turn over, going underwater for a moment. “You dont even sunburn.”You told him, splashing water in his direction before swimming away quickly so that he couldnt get back at you.

Kelce kept getting calls from his parents that were asking him to come home but he never did. They knew where he was, if they wanted him back so badly they’d drive over and take him away. “Guys, i’ve finished my creation.”Kelce announced, coming outside. “So we can come in now?”Topper asked, gripping the ledge of the pool and pulling himself out, falling onto his stomach as he struggled to get up.

“Yes, you can come in now! Hurry!”Kelce yelled excitedly before going back inside, waiting impatiently for you guys to hurry. Rafe helped you out of the pool, tossing you your towel so that you wouldnt trail water through your house. “Guys! Come on!”Kelce shouted again, the three of you walking across the hot pavement quickly.

“I’ll clean up the water after- just come see what I did!”He said again. You rolled your eyes, walking into the house. Goosebumps formed on y0our skin from the cool air, eyes widening as you looked at the kitchen. He had bought a plaid tablecloth for the table, vines hanging from the ceiling and doorways, a tie dye tapestry hanging in your living room. It looked like he had taken the time to wipe down every surface and vacuum any mess of broken spaghetti or eggshells that had been kicked under the fridge.

“Do you like it?”He asked, unable to read your shocked expression. “Kelce, im gonna be honest with you. I feel like im in pixie hollow right now.”You grinned, making him smile. “I think thats a good thing- but upstairs is better!’He exclaimed before making his way up the stairs. He was right.

There were marble heart shaped tiles hanging on the walls of the hall, a sign on the new hangout spot that was made out of drift wood. He opened the door, revealing bean bag chairs on the floor, a new carpet, a light yellow canopy hanging over the bed that had all new sheets and blankets on it as well.

He had even somehow managed to fix the paint on the wall so that there were different colored polka dots all over it. The boys seemed equally impressed, still taking it in. You hugged Kelce, not even caring that you’d get his clothes wet. “So I did good?” He asked, hugging you back. “You always do good.”You replied, feeling him hug you tighter.

“So you’re happy?”He asked, letting out a small sigh when you nodded. “I am happy, Kelce.”you replied, kissing him lightly. He smiled against you, taking in a deep breath. “I found a new recipe for fancy grilled cheese.”He told you, kissing your forehead. This was something that you loved about having them live with you.

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ssa-sugar-tits · 4 years

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queen of hearts // chapter nine

summary : y/n y/l/n was crushed when she found out about maeve donovan. heartbroken, she left her entire life behind. what happens when she becomes the most prolific serial killer the bau has ever seen?

series masterlist + taglist

content warnings : murder, gunshots, death, sexual harassment, angst (lots of it)

a/n : reader is a psychotic murderer. this is purely a work of fiction and if you or someone you know are experiencing homicidal urges, seek professional help immediately.

You did it.

Wow.

You got you and your baby out of that shithole and you're on the run. The news and the FBI plastered your face everywhere so of course you changed your appearance as best as you could. Can't really hide a 7 month baby bump though, can you? You make your way to an empty road and stick your thumb out to hitchhike. A woman with strawberry blonde hair stops, letting you into her worn out green truck.

"Thank you so much!" you exclaim, getting into the truck. Thump. Your heart could jump right out of your chest. All it takes is one headline, one picture and she'll turn you in.

"Make yourself comfy, sweetie," she gives you a warm smile. "I'm Maggie. Where you headed?"

"I'm Lucy," you lie. "Anywhere but here. As far as you can take me, please."

"What's got you running? If you don't mind me asking."

"Let's just say I got away from a very bad place." you whisper. It's not a lie.

Maggie nods sympathetically and goes to turn on the radio.

"No!" you clearly startle her, filling you with guilt. "I- I'm sorry, I'd just prefer silence right now."

"Don't worry about it, Lucy. I know what it's like to be in a bad situation, I know all too well." She says sadly. "I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable, you just sit tight."

Maggie's words give you a sense of comfort, her kindness sets you slightly at ease. It'd fucking suck to have to kill her, you think. After what seems like few hours, you wake up to see her pumping gas into the truck. She enters the store, telling you she's been craving some licorice and she'll be right back. You're not heartless, you don't want to hurt this sweet woman. So, as anyone would do, you knock out the only other person around with one swift swing of a bat you found in Maggie's truck. Getting into the car, you hotwire it while the man you hit groans on the ground, bleeding. Red stains his shirt and your heart races. It's been a long time since you've done anything like this. Shit, shit, shit. You see Maggie at the cash register, paying. Lucky for you, the talkative woman gives you time by conversing with the cashier. Spark. Got it. Taking one last glance, you see Maggie drop her bag and gasp, whipping her head to look at you. There's a fucking TV in the gas station and guess who's face is on it? You back up the van and wince at the sound of the man's bones cracking paired with his agonized scream. Now or never. Hitting the pedal, you floor it.

You stop to breathe for a moment, parking outside of a shitty looking motel. The neon sign is broken so it reads Mot l. You open the trunk of the car you stole to look for anything useful. How lucky, you think. A small, silver handgun is tucked away underneath a plaid knit blanket. Where are the bullets? Must be in the front. Getting into the car and searching the glove compartment, you locate the ammo.

"Goddamn, if that isn't one hell of an ass." A gruff voice behind you whistles. Ignoring him, what he says next makes your heart burst into fear. Thump. "Be careful lovely lady. Heard there's a killer running around. I'll keep you safe though." You feel a hand make its way onto your back slowly and you turn yourself on your back.

"Fuck off." you growl. Click. Gun loaded. Pointing it at the man's now petrified face, you smirk.

"I-I'm sorry!" he spits out.

"No, you aren't honey." Bang. His body hits the ground with a thud and the familiar metallic taste of blood splatters your face. A steady hand wipes away the remains from your eyes and you exit the car, as calmly as you can manage.

"I'd like a room please." The motel owner stares at you, astonished. At the blood or because he recognizes you? Either one isn't good. This wasn't a good decision-- at all. Thump. A shriek from the parking lot distracts you momentarily and the owner takes a laptop and hits you over the head.

"What the fuck?" you grumble. The dumbass didn't even draw blood. With a quick flash, you shoot him too. This whole thing is getting tiring. Fuck, fuck. How the fuck? you wonder, pissed off as you hear sirens. Did the source of the shriek really call the cops that fast? Or were you in such a haze that you can't even think straight, let alone keep track of time. Oh, fuck me. Three black SUVs are with the swarm of police cars. SUVs that you recognize without a doubt as the FBI. Thump. No negotiations this time, no bullshit.

You exit the motel with the gun in your hand. Red and blue lights make you squint and illuminate your figure in the dead of night. Getting a good look at the imagie in front of you, you laugh. Lo and behold, the BAU.

"I'm sorry." you say, just loud enough for everyone to hear before pointing the gun at Spencer Reid.

Bang. Thump. The sharp pain shoots through your chest and you hear a scream. Your head hits the ground and your entire body gives out.

"Y/N!"

You laugh, spitting up raspy strings of red as you do. Suddenly, your head is being cradled and you're being frantically whispered to and yelled about.

"Medic! We need a medic!"

"N-Nice turnout, isn't it?" You cough violently.

"Shh, don't talk Y/N. Please." He strokes your hair as the EMTs load you into the ambulance.

"S-Spence," you call out, barely able to stay conscious.

"What is it sweetheart?"

"Take care of my b-baby for me," another horrible cough escapes you. "Give her the best life you can, t-tell her..."

"Miss Y/L/N, hurry it up, we need to get you into surgery."

"Tell her that her mother loves her, even if I'm not around."

Spencer's eyes flood with tears, they spill out onto his cheeks as he watches the ambulance drive away. Then it hits him. Her. He's having a baby girl.

SPENCER'S POV - E.R.

Hours pass with still no update on Y/N's condition. Most of team has gone home, waiting on call. I don't blame them. I'm the only one still here for Y/N. I feel helpless, like my head is underwater and I'm about to drown. Guilty, so guilty that I still love her. Angry. She's the one who was shot yet the anguish I feel is so fucking deep that it's as if knives are stabbing at my lungs.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" I stand up so quickly I think I might fall over.

"Yes I'm her b--" he stops himself. "I'm Doctor Reid with the FBI, h-how is she?"

"No loved ones here for her? I heard she killed some people but damn."

"Is she stable or not?" I snap, regretting it immediately upon seeing her reaction.

And then she speaks.

"The bullets severed 3 major arteries."

No. They saved her. They have to have saved her.

"Y/N didn't make it."

Everything stops. It feels like my limbs and head weigh a ton. Everything's heavy. My breathing becomes less and less effective, disbelieving, tiring. All color in the room fades, leaving me in darkness. I feel weak and detached, chest clenching until I collapse into the chair behind me.

"Doctor Reid?" the surgeon questions softly.

I don't look at her. I stare at the wall across from me, unable to speak, unable to cry even. My mouth is dry and I feel broken.

"Doctor Reid, I need to know who the child of her father is. We were able to save her."

Thump. Thump. Exhale. I meet her eyes.

"Take me to my daughter please." I say low and as steady as I can without breaking down. The surgeon gives me an odd look, processing the information I've given before turning. I stop her.

"Wait..." I gulp heavily. "Can I see Y/N first?"

She nods, hesitantly.

"Right this way."

Y/N's body lays, peacefully. It should be comforting to know she wasn't scared when she died but I want her here with me. I take her cold, lifeless hand in mine and the tears finally leave me. I let out a loud cry and bring my face down to her stomach, resting and shaking on her skin.

"I'm so sorry," I cry to her body, unable to hear me. "I love-- loved you. I swear."

Sniffling painfully, I notice something in her bra. Leave it to Y/N to torture me even from the dead.

"Dearest Spencer,

I think the way things played out were fitting. If you're reading this, I'm probably dead. Fucking creep, took a letter out of my dead body's bra. Kidding, kidding. Seriously though, give my baby a pretty name, will ya? I hope she gets your kindness, your strength. Everything that makes you you. Raise her to be everything we've ever dreamed of. You make sure she knows I love her, so much. Now quit being a pussy and wipe those tears, darling. We both know I deserved this. I love you, Spence and I forgive you. You got this babe.

Yours truly, Y/N."

My heart is ripped out farther and farther with each word read. It gives me a sense of closure but the pain and turmoil doesn't go away. A life where Y/N isn't here with me isn't a life at all.

"Excuse me," I say blankly as if every emotion I'm feeling simply doesn't exist within me. "I'm done."

The woman guides and then leaves me alone with my child. I hold her in my arms and gasp lightly. She's small but perfect and she smiles at me, lighting my heart. She has Y/N's smile. The fire inside me lessens, being slightly soothed by the newborn in my arms. We'd spoken a few times about having children but I'd always thought she'd be here when the day came. I think about it for a second. I won't name her Y/N, that's much too cliche for Y/N's liking. She isn't the type to name a child without meaning.

"Ellie." I whisper.

Ellie. Meaning 'shining light'.

The light I already love.

The light that holds every piece of Y/N's story in her eyes.

The light that'll get me through this utter darkness.

My light.

Goodbye Y/N. I'll never forget you, the light and the love of my mortal life.

#criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds angst #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #bau x reader

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numbaoneflaya · 3 years

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OOOOGGHHH!!! OMG!!..can I get 🌺,💐,☔, and 🌈!! For Jilly and Vincent!!! Hehe if ur still taking these!!! Thank you!! (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)

OOOGHHHH THANK U belovedd yes u can!! My darling hideous couple :') under cut !

🌺 - Do they send cutesy or grossly sweet/romantic texts to each other?

-Jilly does, both because she means what she says and because she knows it makes vincent blush/squirm. Calls him her ‘Vincey Wincey’ or her cuddlebug, boogabear, pupperman, Studmuffin, etc. sends a bunch of kissy emojis and heart eyes and how she cant wait til hes home so she can give him “a kissaroo for her boo”. He just sends back “enough” “stop” “cut this shit out my coworkers gonna see it” until he has to put her on mute. He himself is only likely to send any emotional over sweet mushy texts if hes been drinking and she's not with him and he's feeling :(. Though those are often long rambling sad voicemails mixed in with him screaming at people to shut the fuck up hes talking to someone on the phone, and then getting back to drunk ranting abt how he misses her and how she needs to get her ass over to him ASAP.

💐 - Is one more protective than the other?

-Vince is definitely the more protective one, though it might be for good reason since Jilly does have a tendency of getting into bad situations, kidnapped, mugged, etc. The way she looks/acts in public like she trusts everyone makes her a target for weirdos (like him) and hes always scared another weirdo is gonna snatch her up when hes not looking. Jilly is protective of him though not in a physical way because like…. Idk, unless someone has a tank its unlikely someones gonna cause him any bodily harm. But she gets protective of him when ppl talk about him rudely or gossip about him bcs she knows his feelings are sensitive and that's her bugaboo :/

☔️ - How do they make up after a fight?

-Its pretty much always Vincent who starts the fight, and hes pretty much always the first to apologize too. Depending on the fight and the severity, he either just bangs on the door of whatever room she's locked herself in, saying “I'm sorry, okay? I was a dick! I know that! Let me in so we can talk, stop being a baby.” and then if she doesnt still let him in he has to make the joke “let me in or ill huff and ill puff, and ill break this fucking door down.” Which she always laughs at, and also always lets him in bcs she knows he will actually break down the fucking door. OR if he's feeling more guilty, he walks up behind her with his most sad puppy dog face with his ears and tail down and crouches down so his head is nuzzled in her stomach and starts apologizing and saying he doesn't deserve her. May start crying, but so will she.

🌈 - What were their first impressions of each other?

-Jillys first impression of him at route 66 was immediately both intimidated by him and VERY attracted to him. Had to stop herself from saying “hubabubba😳” outloud. He had also just stepped in to save her from Farz who was harassing her, so she was like OMG…😳 hes so heroic he saved me… disney movie when.. And then she thanks him and he hits her w the “😏im a fuckin animal, suck my cock, ill fuck you on this pool table rn” and shes :///////////// one hit killed by that interaction. But also shes still blushing and stammering bcs damn :/ its a lil sexy and also he smells like a predator which is scary and sexy… but she quickly makes her retreat bcs that dudes jacked up fr. And then of course he follows her and bashes her head in the wall and the rest is history <3

Vincents first impression of her is “yo why tf this bitch smell like animal :/” and then “wait is she wearing a fucking fannypack. Is she really dumb enough to come in this shithole alone at night. In a fucking fannypack. LMAO”. Thinks she's really cute but also dumb as hell and an easy victim. But then she's all polite and cute blushing and thanking him and hes like aww :) and then hits her with what I guess he thought was him shooting his shot. But mostly he was just having fun scaring her and making her uncomfortable because she smells like prey and hes into it. And then of course she leaves and hes like :3c teehee! *follows her out and decides to fuck her whole life up*

#ferret and pisswolf #btd #my darlings my babes #abuse cw #i guess? i mean implied #i mean there is headbashing inolved #thasnk uu <33 i love talking abtthem

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fandomscombine · 4 years

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The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 2: Family Reunion

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.

This part follows the collapse of The Umbrella Academy during their youth and having the family back together after years apart for the very first time.

I have mashed up the information and some events from both the comics and the tv series. So a heads up for readers who haven’t read the comics, it was hinted in S2 but in the very beginning of the comics, it’s canon that Reginald is indeed an Alien.

The series will consist of 10 parts. Where the reader would have a focused interaction with each sibling. (Eg. After this part, it would be Luther x Reader, then Diego x Reader and so on! –Yes Ben is included)

WC: 4786 (never had I written so much for one part before!)

Contains: Angst. Death- Reginald and Ben (so not exactly a spoiler, but while writing Ben’s scene had my eyes water a bit.) Crap childhood and the Hargreeves being a mess.

A/N: You guys are literally the best! Reading your replies and comments about how much you enjoyed part 1 and are looking forward to the rest of the series, really warms my heart!

>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

March 21, 2019.

Never had you thought that you would be back here, looking up the gates of The Umbrella Academy, 13 years later.

There was and still is so much pain associated with this building, this entity, this identity of The Umbrella Academy. That you hadn’t seen it coming- well not exactly completely blind to it. Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ upbringing of children-your siblings, your childhood- had always been shit but you had never come close to imaging it to be as emotionally and mentally damaging as it did.

Children at aged 7 finding out they had powers was great. To a kid, it was a dream come true to be a real-life superhero. It all started out as fun and games but soon, training started to be competitions to outshine your siblings-your competitors whist being told to work together at the same time. It was quite a hard concept to grasp as a young kid, but in order to get any attention and praise from a distant father, a kid would do anything.

By the age of 9, the superhero team of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ was officially announced to the world. The group consisted of the 7 Hargreeves children, publicly known as: Spaceboy, The Kraken, The Rumor, The Séance, The Boy, The Horror, and Foresight.

An 8th child with seemingly no superpower, had been secretly tucked away, hidden from the world and too, distanced away from her own siblings. It was though Vanya Hargreeves didn’t exist.

You did try your best to spend time with Vanya and keep the Sunday sister bonding time with her, but with all your training and missions, combined with all her violin lessons and some other private lessons she often go on with in long periods of time - though she wouldn’t mention what they were- there was absolutely no time to be in each other’s presence, so soon you along with the rest of your siblings slip away from Vanya.

At age 10 was a big year for the Hargreeves siblings, they had kind of successfully protected the city of Paris from the chaos of the Eiffel Tower being a spaceship- yes it did flew away but at least the people were saved- The mission became world wide news and soon every move they made caught the public’s eye. With this led to more intense training and additional etiquette workshops to better the group’s public image.

Reginald being a helicopter parent took a toll on the children, who had coped in their own ways. Luther taking the role of ‘leader’ to heart, Diego with his never ending hero complex, Allison using her power to get whatever she wanted, Klaus fell into the world of drugs and alcohol, Five-the rebel who thinks he’s smarter than everyone even dad, Ben into the world of video games, Vanya became ever more quiet and more to herself, and you-a yes person to dad who calls you his most valuable asset that has ever crossed his path, never wanting to let him down.

Things really started to get out of hand at the ripe old age of 13. Breakfast had been a mess, Five had a massive argument with dad and stormed out of the house. You ran after him, caught his coat just as he passed the gate- the very gate you are standing in front of now.

‘FIVE! WAIT!’

‘WHAT?’ He turned, looking angrier as ever.

‘Please don’t leave.’ You place your hand on his shoulder- damn when did he become taller than you? ‘You both can talk this out. Rationalized things out’ You pleaded.

He shook your hand away. ‘Talk? REALLY Y/N? You think good old dad would dare listen to someone younger than him? TO HIS OWN CHILDREN?’ He snorted. ‘You are daft y/n. I thought you were smarter than this-‘ Five sighed. ‘But a guess you are too much of a daddy’s girl to see things clearly.’

‘I know you didn’t mean that’ You stammered, not letting the tears fall. ‘that’s just your anger talking.’

‘oh but I do mean it. Now if you’d excuse me, I have to get going to prove dad wrong.’

Five makes a step forward but you blocked his way

‘GET OUT OF THE WAY Y/N’ He pushes you. ‘I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE ANYMORE.’

As you fell to the ground, you see him blip away.

That was the last time anyone had seen Number Five and his final words still haunts you to this day.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

To make matters worst from having a sibling disappear and to never come back was to have another sibling lose his life.

The media was quick to publish the news. It was all the tabloid and news outlets seem to care about. The headline would vary but all in all still carry the same heart-breaking news. Be it from ‘The Horror dies in mission.’ , ‘The Umbrella Academy loses the life of another of its members.’ to ‘RIP to teen superhero Ben Hargreeves aka The Horror.’

Oh Ben, dear Ben. Why must he be taken away? You thought. Why?

The mission was meticulously planned and prepared for. You were sure to have extracted all the information on what was to go down and what the villains’ moves were from your vision.

You had memorized that every aspect of that dream- you had 2 weeks to prepare. Everyone was supposed to be safe, but why wasn’t Ben?

Why didn’t reality play out as to what you foresaw? You had never slipped up before. Why had the one time you did cost you the life of your beloved brother? Why?

While sobbing your eyes out onto Ben’s grave, a memory of what seemed so long ago came rushing back.

>>‘I’m sorry y/n.’ He said leaning on your door frame.

‘Ben!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’m so glad you’re back up and running!’

Ben was caught off guard. ‘You—You’re not mad at me?’

‘Why would I be mad at you?’ You questioned, genuinely confused at your brother’s words.

‘Cause, Cause I almost got you killed. I am a monster.’

You sat up straight at those words, your ribs hurt a bit at the sudden movement, but you didn’t care. Your brother was blaming himself for something he couldn’t have controlled.

‘NO BEN!’

Ben jumped from your sudden outburst.

You motioned for him to come closer.

‘Ben…’ looking into his eyes. ‘Ben you are no monster.’

‘But—’

‘uuh uh I’m not done’ You held his hand in yours. ‘You are no monster what happened then was an accident, nobody knew, heck nobody expected powers to just show up. It was beyond anyone’s control. It took us by surprise.’

His shoulders relaxed.

‘It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

He gave you a bone crushing hug. ‘Thank you y/n. You don’t know how guilty I was feeling.’ Voice muffled by your shoulder, which is now wet with his tears. ‘I kept thinking about the pain I caused you and I wasn’t allowed to leave my room even when I begged dad to see you and say sorry. y/n’

‘Shhh shhh’ Rubbing his back. ‘It’s alright Ben. What’s important is that we’re all here now. Alive, Safe and sound.’. <<

‘I’m sorry Ben…’ You choked out.

‘I’m so sorry Benny…’ Wiping his gravestone of your tears. ‘I—I got you killed. I am a monster. I am THE monster.’ You hiccupped. ‘It is MY job to keep everyone same, to do the reconnaissance, to ensure that everyone in the frontline is safe. It is my power to foresee what could go wrong, to avoid disastrous mistakes. And….and I failed, Ben. I failed. I failed you, dad, The Umbrella Academy.’

‘I miss you Ben so much…’ You lie down with an arm across the lawn. Picturing that is was him you’re hugging, that he is really there.’ more than your annoyingly sweet ass could ever believe. I wish you were here Ben, safe and sound. And if you could hear me Ben, I wish you could forgive me.’

Your eyes slowly fall shut from the emotional guilt you’re feeling but a warm breeze passes through like a warm embrace lightening the heavy burden within.

A soft whisper of reassurance and familiar words brings you to peaceful rest.

‘I forgive you y/n. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

You stirred from your sleep as you felt yourself lifted from the ground.

‘Careful Diego! You might wake her up.’ You hear Klaus say.

All this trauma, stress and was just too much to handle by minors and as quickly as all your powers came, the same goes for the people who left.

Klaus was the first to leave the academy at age 16, who choose to be self-checked at a rehab centre, stating that that was a way healthier environment then this shithole that was ‘home’. Who could blame him? Especially when you yourself were planning to leave.

As much as you wanted to get up and leave in the dead of night, you can’t. You don’t have the heart to leave your remaining siblings behind. No, not in this environment. If you were to leave, you wanted them to go with you, to at least know they would have a good life ahead.

Under Reginald’s watchful eye, it would take time to sort the plan out, but it would be worth it.

And you know just the person to talk to.

‘Heyya Diego.’

‘You’re up to something y/n/n and I don’t want to be in any part of it.’ He says without glancing your way. ‘Not after the pineapple incident.’ Diego’s eyes finally landing on you.

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. ‘Oh come on Diegs! That was years ago! It was just a childish prank—’

Diego gives you the finger.

‘-Oi! It is not MY fault what Luther did to you; besides you were supposed to take the EAST stairwell, NOT the West.’ You say matter of factly, shaking your head. ‘Ughh no, we are getting out of topic. Diego, I need your help and you have to promise not to tell anyone-’

‘You’re devising a getaway plan, aren’t you?’

Your brows scrunched together. ‘How’d you—’

‘I’m not blind y/n, I recognised the look of someone who too is planning to escape.’

You raise a brow. ‘Too?’

‘Yes, Too.’ Diego edges closer to you. ‘Now, why don’t we save the trouble of potentially ruining each other’s individual schemes and join forces. Team up. More brainpower. And whatnot. Deal?’ Offering his pinky out.

You ignored the outstretched gesture. ‘What happened to being a lone wolf huh? I thought that was your thing now?’ You countered.

‘Like a said y/n, the more brainpower, the higher the success.’ He explained. ‘Say, we do manage to get out or perhaps just leave, like Klaus. Where would we go? Where would you? Hmm?’

‘I… I…’ You honestly don’t know.

‘Exactly. That’s why we team up and once we’re out of here. We stick together for a while till we get back on our feet and figure out what we want then go our separate ways.’

You nod, digesting his words. It seems like a solid plan with ample flexibility before deciding on what to do with your life after. But….

‘Okay…..’

‘Okay!’

‘…On one condition. It would not only you and me. We’ll try to get to convince the others to come along too.’

‘What?! y/n no, that’s too many people on the plan-‘

‘More brainpower, higher the success. Your words Diego. Not mine.’ You retaliated. ‘Besides, we can’t just leave everyone here. It’s miserable here. They’re family Diego.’

‘Fine we’ll tell Luther and Allison.’

‘Everyone, Diego.’ You stared him down. ‘And that includes Vanya. No buts.’

‘Ugh.Fine.’ He points a finger towards your face. ‘We tell Luther, Allison AND Vanya. But I swear y/n if anyone of them rats us out or backs out of the plan. We leave them behind. No pity if they choose to stay in this shithole of a house. They are old enough to make their own decision and to face the consequences.’ He leans back to the bed’s headboard. ‘That’s my final offer. Deal?’

‘Deal.’ You interlock your fingers, sealing the pinky promise.

It was easy to get Vanya on board, as she was the child that received the crappiest treatment from dad. Allison was hesitant at first but after convincing her the real world had so much more to give compared to that of the imaginary perfect bubble she created for herself here in the academy with the use of her power, she was on board.

Luther that ever loyal ‘leader’ of the academy would never dare cross dad, the idea wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. Diego had failed to make him see reason and so have you. Luther only came around to be a part of the escape because Allison had agreed to it.

It took almost 6 months. The time has come. You all had saved up enough money to rent a loft apartment downtown and pooled enough to last at least 3 months on your own.

At 1:00 am. All the remaining 5 Hargreeves are to ready with their backpacks to sneak out in groups, boys and girls, and meet at the rendezvous point, Giddy’s Doughnuts. There, a van would be available for them to drive to the apartment.

The boys were to go first, as to let Diego deactivate the security features of the house while Luther stands guard.

It was only supposed to take 15 minutes tops, it was 20 minutes past now. Something was wrong.

Deciding as a team to check up on the boys, you, Allison and Vanya head down to the foyer.

Upon arrival, you see Luther with his hands covering Diego’s face, Diego who seem limp as a log.

‘Luther what’s going on?’ Allison’s voice rang out beside you.

‘I’m sorry….’ He looks down unto the unconscious Diego in his arms. ‘I just… I just couldn’t.’

‘Number Eight! How could you! How could all of you! Three! Seven!’

The room seemed to turn colder by the sound of the voice. You turn and see Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

‘Dad…’

‘YOU ARE ALL A DISGRACE.’ Reginald spitted.

‘But dad!’ Luther pleaded. ‘I was the one who informed you about their plan!’

‘ENOUGH! NO MORE OF THIS FOOLISHNESS, BACK TO BED---’

‘That’s right NO MORE dad!’ Shouted Allison. She glances at dad then at Luther. A frown etched her face as she commanded. ‘I heard a rumor that you couldn’t move your legs.’

The effect was immediate. The lower half of Reginald and Luther stayed still as a rock while they tried their best to break free. But alas, Allison had the upper hand. ‘I heard a rumor you let us go freely.’ At once, both men calmed down.

And to add insult to injury. Allison focused on Reginald and rumoured ‘And you would leave Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves, Y/n Hargreeves and Allison Hargreeves alone.’

Luther’s betrayal felt like a stab in the back.

Moving on and creating a new life from the ground up for oneself was hard but having your siblings with you had definitely made it easier.

It took a while to get the hang of things, being 4 young adults with nothing. You missed Mom and Pogo, but you knew that they, like Luther would stick with Dad.

Vanya was the first to take up stack, she provided the finance to pay rent and groceries with the salary she would get from her violin performances at the local theatre. Soon Allison would also chip in from the money she received from her acting gigs.

Diego showed interest into joining the police academy while you wanted to get away from the lifestyle as much as possible, opted to move across the country and pursue tertiary education-because that was what normal 18-year-old do right? For once you want to be ordinary and what better way than experience what student life is all about.

Though there is one teensy detail that was hindering your application. You were home-schooled by your robot mom. There weren’t report cards or grades that any university would accept. Even if there were, you wouldn’t want to go back to that dreadful house.

Both not wanting to lose your newfound passion, you and Diego had an enormous favour to ask.

‘NO not a chance!’ Allison crossed her arms. ‘It’s unethical!’

‘Yes we know-‘ you replied.

‘But it’s the only way.’ Diego reasoned. ‘It’s not fair for y/n and I to not be able to follow our dreams and to finally FINALLY move on with our lives, Ally. While you and Vanya get to live out yours.’

You nodded along. ‘We ask you just this one thing and we’re out of your hair.’

Allison looked between you two as if to decided whether it would be worth it. ‘Fine, just this once.’ She sighs. ’And this doesn’t get out kapeesh?’ pointing her finger.

‘kapeesh.’

‘I’m gonna miss you so much!’ Vanya admitted.

You pulled both your sisters into a hug. ‘I’m miss you gals more!’

Allison wipes her tears away. ‘Don’t forget us okay? Remember we’re only a text away.’

‘Tell Diego that I’m gonna miss kicking his butt when he come back from his officer training, ye?’

Over the years you hadn’t lost touch with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve all together physically, but you do video chat every once and a while and you have a general tab on each of your siblings. Vanya is currently the 3rd chair violin at her orchestra, Diego had channelled his inner batman and believe to be a vigilante keeping the streets and public safe.

As for Klaus, Diego had told you that he hasn’t managed to keep off his ~happy place~ and had seen him in and out of nightclubs.

Allison….Well who wouldn’t know about what she’s up to. A-list celebrity with numerous critically acclaimed movies to her name, one half of Hollywood’s hottest couple and amazing role model for mothers. Ahh Claire that sweet angel, who says that you’re her favourite aunt, that smile of hers melts your heart.

The last you’ve seen of Luther is when his journey to the moon has been televised a couple of years ago. There’s been no news since.

The rattling of the gate brings you back to the present.

‘AH yes, Miss.y/n. He has been expecting you.’

‘Pogo!’ You exclaimed, wrapping him in a hug.

‘So I’m not to late then? Where’s mom?’

‘Grace is with Sir Reginald, my dear.’ Pogo leads you up the stairs.

Looking around, everything is as pristine as usual. ‘I see that nothing’s change’ You noted.

‘Yes, well I was asked to keep it as it always was.’

He opens the door to Reginald’s quarters. There on the bed was dad, looking sickly pale but still alive unlike to what you had seen in your vision.

Beside him wiping away the sweat on his forehead was mom. ‘Oh, my dear y/n I’m glad you could join us.’ She says as if years hadn’t gone by without your presence.

You reach the foot of the bed. ‘Dad…’ you begin.

But Reginald cuts you off. ‘Number Eight. Glad to see that logical and curious side of yours overrides that irrational emotive side.’ His voice weak yet still holds its signature condescending tone. ‘It is your disposition to the voice of reason and mysteries of the unknown that led you here, despite your supposed hatred towards me-‘

‘There’s no grey area, I do hate you.’

He waved his hand to dismiss your interruption.

‘As I was saying, it is of this reason- your control over the impulsiveness that is apparent to all of your siblings who lack control- is why you are my favourite.’

You scoffed.

‘It is true, my dear y/n.’

‘Oh please. You only see me as a ��valuable asset”. Remember?’

Reginald nods. ‘I do, but I believe the exact words were “You would do great things Number Eight. To see into the future is a valuable asset to have indeed”. Thus, implying that your ability is the asset not you.’

‘Sure, just rub it in don’t you.’ Rolling your eyes.

‘I hope that you do too remember that also in my own words that you were and still are “the cleverest of the bunch”.’

‘So why am I here, you’re clearly not dead.’ You looked at him again. You’ve never seen your dad so fragile ever. ‘….yet. So there must be something to do with that. Perhaps find your killer?’

On the bedside table, you took note of the cup of tea and medication. Your brain is in super speed, running through ideas on what could have cause him to be so sickly.

‘It could be your meds…..’ You look up. ‘Mom who else has access to Dad’s medication?’

‘Just us dear, Pogo and I.’

‘Number Eight there is no killer. I am dying because of old age, it is quite normal for-‘

‘NO No but the mortality rate is 350 years for the species of—’

‘Ah!’ Reginald’s face showed of surprise which slowly turned into cunningest. ‘so, you know then’ He chuckled.

‘Yes.’

‘Since when?’ He asked genuinely curious.

‘When we first showed signs of powers, some of your notes were written in a language I did not recognised.’ You recalled. ‘So, I did some digging, it took a while but when I found about the secret safe under this very bed and what it contained. Everything became clearer.’

‘Very good. Y/n. Nobody knew about the safe expect myself.’ He looked over at Pogo. ‘Did you know of it?’

‘No, Sir.’ Pogo admitted. ‘Not until now.’

‘Very well indeed. You knew all this time, yet you didn’t say anything. Why?’

‘Because it didn’t matter.’ You shrugged. ‘The only thing that matter in this household was our powers.’

‘Did the others-‘

‘No, they didn’t know. I hadn’t told a soul. It is not my secret to share.’

‘And soon it will be yours.’

‘What?’

‘Number Eight, it is without a doubt my time here is limited. Perhaps as little as an hour.’

Never had you seen someone talk about their death like this. You shiver at the thought.

‘By the fact that you are here now and had seen a vision of me dead means that the block I had place on you to prevent you peering into events regarding me is failing. Failing as my health is.’

You want to be angry. How dare he supress your power. But you stand still as a rock by his confession. ‘why?’ A soft whisper was all you could muster. ‘why?’

‘Because I had to keep my real identity a secret. To prevent you from exposing me.’ He coughed. ‘But turns out, you hadn’t need to use your powers to know that, as what you’ve told me.’ He looked at you with watering eyes. ‘You found that all on your own, yet you did not disclose anything.’ He reached out for your hand to which you accept. ‘For which I am delighted that at least I can say that I have one child, a daughter to be proud of.’

A daughter to be proud of.

You would like to think that you are strong and independent. And those are true. But that small child that all that wanted was to experience a parent’s love and affection. That emotional support of that small child which you thought you had successfully tucked away came clawing its way back to the surface.

‘y/n’ You had almost missed it, wiping away your tears, you leaned closer.

‘Listen carefully….’ Your dad’s chest was barely moving. It was a struggle for him to get the following words out. ‘The end is near, get the others ……and save…..the…..tttiiiimmm’

You never head what came next. Sir Reginald Hargreeves is dead.

Under the setting sun, Reginald looked at peace.

A half moon shines brightly above the house. It had been 3 days and 7 Hours since it happened.

Exhaustion is starting to catch up with you but there is still so much to do.

News channels had broadcasted the breaking news of your father’s death.

You had personally called your siblings to deliver the news, they are to arrive tomorrow for the funeral at noon.

Luther who had been expecting to relay dad his daily report status on the space radio, cussed at you in anger-those were the first words you heard in 12 years- calmed down and said that he will be there in 3 days, in time for the funeral.

‘Sweetie, I brought you some tea.’

‘Thanks mom.’ You take a sip. ‘Hey mom did you think you’re gonna be alright now that you know…. That dad is gone?’

She runs her fingers to your hair. ‘I’m gonna be fine dear, I am stronger than you know.’

You smile at her. You just can’t help but to think what’s gonna happen to her now that your dad is gone. Pushing that thought away-like she said, I am stronger than you know.

‘Now, why don’t we get you to bed.’ She cuts you off before you can say a word. ‘Uh uh. You have done so much already. You need rest especially with the funeral in 9 hours. Pogo and I can handle the remaining task.’

‘Thanks again mom.’

She tucks you into bed. ‘Good night y/n/n. Sweet Dreams.’ She kisses the top of your head. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too mom.’ As she leaves your room, you realised that you didn’t want to be alone. ‘Mom…’ You called out, almost childlike.

‘Yes dear.’ Grace makes her way back in.

‘Well you stay with me? Sing to me until I fall asleep?’

‘Ofcourse dear.’ She smiles, pulling up a chair beside your bed.

The lull of your mother’s voice sends you to sleep with the memories of the childhood before power. When everything was simple. When there was love in this household.

You awoke to sounds of screams and flashes of blue light. You hurry to your window, it shows the courtyard, a ball of blue chaos small black figures.

You pull on your jacket and ran downstairs, the clock in the foyer shows 11:37am. Crap you overslept! But that means…..that the figures you saw were your siblings. There are early….that’s new.

You arrived in the courtyard just as you see Klaus throws a fire extinguisher at the blue light.

‘What are you doing?!’ Shouted Luther.

‘What is that gonna do?’ Allison questioned.

‘I don’t know!!’ Klaus turned around ‘Do you have a better idea?—Oh hey y/n! Nice to see you!’ He ran over and gave you a tight hug. ‘What a family reunion ehh?’

Before you could reply, the ball of blue gave out a crackle of electricity.

‘Everyone get behind me!’ Luther pushes in front of everyone.

‘Yeah! Get behind us.’ Diego chimed in, pushing Vanya closer to you.

Vanya ignores Diego, trying to get a better look herself. ‘It looks like something is coming through!’

The ball of light exploded, the sudden burst of energy was blinding that you had to cover your eyes.

Then nothing, total darkness.

THUD. You heard Vanya scream.

‘Argh!’

The blue chaos had expelled something….someone.

Luther was the first to speak. ‘Who’s there?’

‘Show yourself!’ said Diego.

As a collective group, you walked towards the mystery person.

Your eyes go wide with shock. No it can’t be, it’s impossible. You must be seeing things.

‘Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?’ wondered Klaus.

Klaus looked around and saw that everyone showed that same face of disbelief. Pleased to know that it wasn’t the drugs, he snickered. ‘Now THIS! THIS IS WHAT I CALL A FAMILY REUNION.’

Little Five who didn’t seem to have aged a day since you last saw him,

It’s been years but seeing him looking like he did back when you last saw him, you recall the last words he had shouted at you.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

Five looks down at himself drowned in tattered oversize clothes, wining. ‘SHIT!’

Something is wrong, something is very wrong and you know it.

No way was this all a coincidence for your father to warn you about some impending doom and have Five to reappear 17 years later. It must be related somehow…What’s next you thought……For Ben to come back to life too?

END OF PART 2

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

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barrysjumpsuit · 4 years

Text

blindsided - barry’s sister x rafe cameron (ch. 3)

part one, part two, masterlist

word count: 3.5k

warnings: cannabis use, cocaine use, physical and verbal abuse, underage drinking, anxiety/depression, mentions of sex, the whole nine yards tbh

synposis: christy is a lifelong resident of the outer banks. after a series of hookups with rafe cameron, kook royalty, she’s smitten. what she doesn’t know is about what her boyfriend and brother are involved in behind her back

a/n: things are starting to get good... I’m super excited to write the rest of this! got some wild shit coming up. read this for SOFT RAFE. (side note, the necklace part is 100% a marie thing that i do and wear. i studied moon snail predation on clams so HMU if you wanna learn abt the ecology of the long island sound) (also in this house we stan naturdays)

----

Rafe had listened to Christy’s begging when she was saying she wanted to go to the Boneyard separately from Topper and Sarah. They slipped out before the others were done getting ready, but Christy still couldn’t bring herself to relax.

Her boyfriend was on edge too. They were silent as they drove south, Rafe eventually pulling off the road as they reached the trailer. Barry’s bike was gone from where it usually sat, and Christy was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Rafe followed her into the trailer. It was weird seeing Rafe Cameron, so well put together, in her shithole of a home. He knew better to comment on the state of things, and he looked visibly uncomfortable.

“Come on and help me,” Christy said, grabbing his hand and leading him down the hall to her bedroom. She unlocked the door and pulled him inside before closing it. “You know how to pack cigarette joints?”

“Can’t be too hard,” he said. Christy pulled out a mason jar of bud from her last harvest, along with two paper plates she kept for this exact purpose.

“We’ll do all of them,” she said. “I have a couple already made.”

Christy sat down on the bed next to Rafe. Their knees touched, the jar between them. She busied herself grinding the nugs, picking out the stems while Rafe started emptying the cigarettes of their contents.

“You know,” Rafe said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’ve never smoked weed.”

“Really?” Christy asked. She was genuinely surprised. “Y’know, they say it’s the gateway drug, and…”

“Yeah, I went straight to the hard stuff,” Rafe said quietly. “It’s more of a… pogue thing.”

“What, so we’re stereotyping drugs now? I’ve seen you drink Natty Light. That’s as pogue as alcohol gets.”

“Naturdays!” Rafe protested.

“As if that makes it any different.” Christy grinned and tapped the grinder to the paper plate that sat in Rafe’s lap. “You want to try?”

Rafe nodded, and Christy looked up at him. There was something soft about him now, sitting in her bed in her shitty trailer. He hadn’t said anything about her living situation like he normally would. He hadn’t refused to help her.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Christy said quietly. He looked up at her, smiling softly. “We can wait until we’re there or until we leave. It’s up to you.”

“What will it feel like?” he asked.

“You really are clueless. We’ll wait until we’re away from the party, okay? This strain chills you the fuck out. It’s the only way I can sleep most nights.”

“Really?” he asked. “I didn’t know that. You always seem to fall asleep pretty easily.”

Christy bit her bottom lip before answering, focusing on twisting her grinder. “It’s because I feel comfortable with you.”

Rafe’s hand was suddenly cupping her cheek. He had moved the plate and his in-progress work to the bedspread and was leaning forward, perched on his knees. “Christy…” he murmured, his lips tantalizingly close to hers. “Really? You mean that?”

“Yes,” was all she could say. She could smell his breath, his deodorant, his cologne.

“You mean the world to me,” Rafe purred, moving his hand so it rested on the nape of her skull. “I love you so much. I’m glad we found each other.”

“Me too,” Christy whispered, and Rafe’s lips were on hers. They were gentle, patient, and tender. The kiss made her feel safe, reciprocating what she had just confessed to him.

Normally, Christy had a tough exterior. She was closed and blunt. People knew her for that, and even Barry commented on it. She didn’t know why Rafe of all people unlocked her as if he had a key, melting her heart and opening her up. It was true: she usually smoked herself to sleep every night. If she didn’t she would toss and turn into the early hours of the morning, and by then she would give up and go for a run or boat ride. Whenever she spent the night with Rafe, tucked into his bed and in his arms, her brain stopped worrying. It stopped running through endless scenarios, and she slept.

Rafe was the one to pull away. He smiled gently at her. Some of his hair fell over his eyes, so Christy reached up to tuck it back where it belonged. “I love you, Rafe Cameron.”

“I love you too, Christy,” he murmured back, kissing her once more on the forehead before sitting back down on the bed and picking up the paper plate again.

The two of them packed a cigarette carton full of joints in half an hour. Before they left, she pocketed her bowl, a couple baggies with nugs, and JJ’s five grams.

“This is a cute picture,” Rafe said as Christy stowed the last of the bud underneath her bed. They had used half of it prepping for the kegger. She looked up to the picture frame he was holding.

The photo was of her and Barry. They were younger – Christy was fifteen and Barry was nineteen – and on the boat. They were holding a fish, a huge striped bass they had hauled in on light tackle. A shadow was cast over a corner of the picture, and Christy’s heart twisted.

“You okay?” Rafe asked, and she just nodded. “What is it?”

“My mom took the picture,” Christy said quietly, taking the frame from him. “This was one of the last memories I have of her before she killed herself. Like a week later.”

“Oh baby…” Rafe put an arm around her, kissing the top of her head, and she leaned into him before putting the picture frame back on her dresser, face down.

“Let’s get out of here,” Christy suggested, and she gently pushed Rafe out of her bedroom. She turned and relocked the door before pocketing the keys and walking down the hall.

“Look who we have here! Rafe Cameron!”

Christy froze at Barry’s voice. Rafe’s hand tightened around hers, to a point where it was almost painful. Barry was sitting on the couch in front of the coffee table, and she could tell he just did a line.

“You just can’t stay away, can you, boy?” Barry said, standing and sauntering over to them. Christy tried to push Rafe behind her, but he refused to budge. “You fucking my sister again? We’re going to have words.”

“Barry, stop it!” Christy put her hands on Barry’s chest and shoved him, but he barely moved. “We’re together, okay? We were just stopping by to get some weed to sell.”

“You sure you don’t want anything else?” Barry asked, dangling a baggie of cocaine in front of Rafe’s face. Christy could tell he was bristling with anger and doing everything he could to restrain himself from swinging a fist. “Right here, Country Club. She’s got your name on it. I miss your business, you know.”

“Barry that’s enough!” Christy yelled, shoving herself between the two of them. “Rafe, let’s go.” She tugged on his hand, but Rafe remained rooted to the dirty carpet of the living room.

Rafe didn’t say anything. He and Barry stood, staring at each other, both of them seething with anger.

“I don’t want your fucking blow,” he finally said, turning, and storming from the trailer.

“You’ve got yourself a keeper there, Chris,” Barry said, swinging the baggie. “A real winner.”

“Fuck you, Barry!” Rafe yelled from the other side of the screen door.

“Go. Sell your weed and fuck your kook. Fuck your kook in his mansion, eat his food, sleep in his bed. And leave me here.”

Barry’s words followed her from the trailer. Rafe grabbed her and they hurried to the truck, getting in and peeling out of the yard.

Rafe was quiet, and Christy knew what that meant. He was pissed. Christy couldn’t help but press herself against the door, making herself small.

He didn’t pay much attention to her until a whimper made its way out of her mouth. She closed her eyes at the sound, knowing that Rafe looked over to her. “Oh, baby…” he said quietly. A hand touched her shoulder and she flinched.

Christy had seen Rafe angry before, plenty of times. He was the only person she had ever seen seriously take on her brother and make her fear for him.

“Just… leave me alone, Rafe,” she muttered.

“Christy, I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Rafe, just be quiet, please.” She opened her eyes to look at him. He looked shocked, his mouth slightly open. Christy looked away before closing her eyes again.

She felt him pull the truck over to the side of the road. “Christy,” he said again, softer this time. “Hey. Come here.”

Rafe pulled up the center console and slid across the seat so that he could wrap his arms around her. Christy curled into him, trying to hold back tears but failing as Rafe’s fingertips started making lazy circles on her back.

She wasn’t sure what she was crying about. Barry’s words rattled her. The whole exchange did. She knew Barry’s words were true. Christy had left him when things got tough. But she knew she couldn’t totally blame herself. He wasn’t doing much to help his situation.

Rafe encountering Barry was something she didn’t want to happen. But it did, and it was bad, but not as bad as she thought it was. Maybe it was best for them to get their anger out before she was deeper in the relationship with Rafe, and before it was more of a secret. It was bound to happen at some point.

“I’m good,” she said, making a slight peace with her thoughts. Christy unburied her head from Rafe’s chest, rubbing makeup all over his face as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m okay.”

“You still want to go to that party?” Rafe asked, leaning his cheek on the top of her head.

“No,” she replied. “But I at least have to stop by. I’m selling someone some weed. It won’t take long.”

“Okay,” he said. Christy felt him press a tender kiss to the top of her head before sliding back over in the seat and pulling back onto the road.

The sun was about to set. As soon as Rafe parked near the Boneyard, Christy hopped out of his truck. She walked through the grasses and onto the beach, knowing exactly where JJ would be. He was manning the keg with John B, the hose in one hand, a beer in the other. Christy shoved through the crowd, consisting of mostly tourons, and slid up next to JJ.

“Follow me?” she asked, and he wordlessly handed the hose to John B.

“Hey, Christy, you okay?” JJ asked suddenly. Christy kept walking, but JJ continued. “You don’t look too good, dude.”

“Thanks for pointing that out,” she snapped at him. They were still too close to the crowd for her to feel comfortable doing a deal of anything larger than a couple blunts.

“I’m serious. Hey.” JJ reached out, grabbing her arm so that she faced him. “Is everything okay?”

She just sighed. “Want to smoke a joint with me?”

JJ was visibly confused, but he didn’t protest. They sat on a piece of driftwood, and Christy pulled out one of the cigarette joints she and Rafe had rolled earlier. She lit it, taking a few hits, before passing it to JJ. She waited a few minutes before speaking the first words.

“I don’t know what in the fuck I’m gonna do, JJ.”

She was surprised the words rolled out of her mouth like they did. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the walls crumbling in her brain, wanting to push her old life behind her.

“Care to elaborate?” JJ asked beside her.

“I’m dating Rafe Cameron,” she stated, knowing that JJ could put the pieces together.

“Oh,” he said, surprised, furrowing his brow. “I didn’t expect that.” Before Christy could say anything, JJ’s eyes stretched wide, and he looked at her. “Oh. Holy shit. Does your brother know?”

“We had our first encounter with him about an hour ago,” Christy replied, taking the joint back from JJ.

“I take it it didn’t go well?” he asked, and Christy shook her head.

“Nope,” she said, smoke coming out of her mouth. “Barry’s not having much business. Hasn’t been good ever since Rafe ghosted him. He won’t move his own product, he needs people to buy from him in bulk, which no one will do because Rafe told everyone he’s a crazy motherfucker. Right now it’s just a few close friends he has.”

“Agatha probably didn’t help, huh?” JJ asked, and Christy just shook her head. “If anyone can get through it, it’s you, Christy. You’re pogue through and through.”

“You don’t know me,” she said quietly, handing him the joint. Her eyelids were heavy and she pressed her palms into the smooth, soft surface of the driftwood.

“I know enough. Anyone to have been through as much shit as you can get away from that situation. It takes one to know one, Christy.”

She looked over at him. JJ was smiling softly, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Here’s your weed,” she said, pulling the baggie out of her pocket. “Same strain you’re smoking now. You can finish the joint, too.”

“Here’s your fifty,” JJ said, handing her two twenties and a ten. “Thanks for your business.”

“And for yours,” she said, standing. JJ laughed as she had to catch her balance.

“Hey Christy?” JJ called quietly as she turned to walk away.

“Yeah, JJ?”

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“You got it,” she said, turning away so JJ couldn’t see her smile. The two of them had always had a natural understanding of each other. It takes one to know one, as he said. It was true.

Christy trudged up the beach and back into Rafe’s waiting truck. “You good?” he asked, and Christy nodded.

“Let’s go get stoned.”

---

Christy woke up before Rafe did. He was rolled towards her, an arm draped around her waist with his mouth slightly open.

Rafe’s breath smelled of weed. She smiled to herself, remembering the events of the previous night. They had gone onto the Druthers, laying on the outside seats, and smoked. The strain Christy brought was her favorite indica. She usually smoked it before bed. It was the only thing that would shut her brain up.

“This is nice,” Rafe said after a few hits. His eyes were soft under his hooded lids. “I like it. I feel good.” They were laying next to each other, feeling the boat rock gently beneath them. She was laying on his chest while Rafe gently threaded his fingers through her hair, occasionally scratching her scalp.

Christy fell asleep like that. She only woke up once to Rafe carrying her down the dock; she murmured his name and tightened her grip as she felt him step onto the soft grass. He had to briefly put her down to open the door to the house, but he picked her up again and quietly ascended the stairs before pushing open his bedroom door and setting her down in his bed, sliding next to her and pulling the covers over them.

That’s where they were now. Rafe Cameron’s bed. His grey pillowcases smelled like him, like cedar and seawater. It was an odd combination, but she liked it.

Rafe had put her phone on the bed between them. The time read 5:32. Her shift started at 7, so Christy decided she could get away with a few more minutes of dozing. Her work apron was draped across a chair in Rafe’s room, and she could probably rewear the previous day’s clothes, which were piled on the floor next to it.

Christy’s stomach rolled at two missed calls from Barry. He wasn’t a texter. He was a caller. Christy was a talker, hating phone communication and opting to talk to people face to face. She willed herself to push the thought of what he had to say until she would go home after her shift that afternoon.

Rafe was still asleep by the time she left for work at 6:30. She kissed him gently before closing his bedroom door softly behind her and trying to leave the house undetected.

On her walk to work, she smoked a cigarette, willing the brief high to wash away the thought of Barry, which lingered in the back of her head. Instead, she focused on the sound of the laughing gulls on the shore, and the rhythmic lapping of the waves as they reached the beach. The crunch of her shoes on the gravel shoulder of the road, of the sound of cars driving by her, of the voices greeting her as she passed houses.

Work was busy with tourists, rebounding back to the island after the hurricane. The hotels had power again, and she talked to her guests about what they had been up to. She liked hearing their stories: what drew them to the OBX, where they came from, who they were. One young couple had just gotten engaged the day before. One table seated an older couple, travelling down the east coast from Connecticut looking for seashells, and asked her the best spots.

“At low tide, the west side of the island is the best,” she suggested, topping off their coffees and putting another handful of prepackaged creamer on the table next to their mugs. “The sound makes it shallower, so there’s lots of critters living there. More intense wave action on the east side will wash some up but they’re usually pretty banged up.”

“That’s a neat necklace,” the woman pointed out. Christy picked up the pendant, smiling. “Did you find that?”

“This? Oh, thanks. I love it. My mom found it.” She couldn’t help but smile at the couple, and at the memory. She pulled it off to hand to the woman. “It’s from a moon snail. The hole is a drill hole, see how regular it is on the edges? Moon snails are predatory, they’ll drill into whatever they can. Usually clams and other snails. Even other moon snails. Like this one here.” Christy pointed out the perfectly rounded hole.

“Did you find it here?” the man asked.

“Nah I’ve found some here though. They’re everywhere. I found this one at Edisto Island near Charleston. You guys should definitely check it out, it’s the best shelling beach I’ve ever been to.”

The couple tenderly looked at each other. “That’s where we got married,” the woman said. “Thirty five years ago. That’s one of our next stops.”

“It’s a special place, that’s for sure,” Christy said, smiling. Mr. Carrera’s voice sounded through the restaurant, calling out her name. “Is there anything else I can get you two?” she asked. The couple shook their heads, and she turned to make her way to the counter.

“I’ve got a big to go order just called in,” he said, scribbling on a notepad. “Can you and Kiara make sure everything makes it into the right containers for them, and then help load it up?”

“Sure thing, Mr. C,” she replied. They were at an odd time of the day – they were still serving breakfast, but had just opened up orders for their lunch menu. Since it was a Sunday, the place was packed with brunchers, and her section was full, keeping her mind occupied.

The shelling couple left her a hefty tip and a sweet note on the receipt. Maybe she would see them on her walk home at the beach she told them about.

“JJ told me about you and Rafe,” Kiara said as they were packing to-go containers into plastic bags as the orders were finished.

“You gonna warn me about him?” Christy asked flatly, almost disinterested. It sounded bitchy of her, but she knew Kiara cared about her.

“Just… be careful.” Kiara replied quietly. “If you ever need a buffer or place to crash away from them… let me know. Okay?”

Christy looked at Kiara, surprised. “Thanks, Kie,” she smiled. It was nice knowing there was someone looking out for her, even if they weren’t extremely close.

The rest of her shift went by quickly and effortlessly, but as she closed out and began walking him, she was smacked in the face with reality. Barry would be waiting for her, without a doubt. She also realized she hadn’t gotten any texts from Rafe. It was two in the afternoon. Surely he would be awake and wanting to talk to her, right?

Christy walked along the beach, her shoes shoved into her backpack. She saw their boat tied to their dock, the trailer just up the shore from it, and she started towards the trailer. Barry was laying on a couch outside. It was nasty – they usually just draped a tarp over it whenever it rained.

After mentally preparing herself for this interaction all day, she was surprised to see Barry grinning at her, calling out to her giddily.

Christy could tell he wasn’t high, but sober. His mood plus his mental state didn’t make sense

Something had happened.

----

fun stuff to come in the next few chapters! shit’s about to hit the fan ;)

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#outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #kiara carrera #john b #john b routledge #john booker routledge #pope heyward #drew starkey

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