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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 7 months

Text

The Only Tally Mark

Ship: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: The 'You Suck' tallies are getting pretty high, but there's a girl in Scoops Ahoy who knows Robin in wrong. If she can just get the courage to open her mouth, Steve's luck is about to change.

Word Count: 7,250 words

Warnings: Robin's a bit mean, she also has no filter, pining, Steve's failed flirting attempts, blatant staring/pining, implied confession, first kiss

Note: Set pre-s4 and the day Dustin comes back, before the Russian code is cracked.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

July had only just begun in Hawkins, and you could already tell it was going to be a hot one. Less than twenty-four hours in, temperatures had already hit record-breaking highs—at least, that was according to the weatherman on the television you were sat in front of, sweating and feeling relief from the heat only when the fan beside you swiveled back toward you.

“Every July is this hot,” your father said from the kitchen, where he was drinking his second glass of water in five minutes.

“Oh, sure, but never this early,” your mother retorted. “It’s only the first, and already we’re melting out of the house.”

Sensing an irritable argument birthed from the nearly unbearable heat, you left the living room and headed up the stairs to your bedroom. You picked up the phone you’d begged your parents to let you have years ago, dialing the number of your best friend of four years: Robin Buckley, the band dweeb to your theatre kid.

It was her mom who answered the phone, several dial tones later. “Hello?”

“Hi, Mrs. Buckley—is Robin home?”

“Oh, hi, sweetie! She’s at work right now, her shift ends at seven.”

You stopped yourself from swearing. “Oh, right, I forgot. Thank you!”

“No problem, dear,” Mrs. Buckley said before hanging up.

You leaned against the wall. How could you have forgotten? Robin had been telling you about her new job in the mall—and the sailor’s uniform she had to wear. You’d seen her get ready for work once and had burst into giggles the moment she put the hat on her head.

You glanced at the digital clock next to your bed, checking the time. There was still several hours before the mall closed. You might as well visit Robin and abuse your friendship to get some free ice cream at the same time, right?

So you grabbed your wallet and shoved it in your pocket and bounded down the stairs.

"Hey, I'm going out!" you shouted to your parents.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?" your father asked, appearing in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen.

"To the mall? Robin works there and I'm going to visit."

"Don't spend too much, dear!" your mother called.

"Sure, Mom!"

You hopped in your car and headed for the mall, following the thick cluster of traffic that always lined the streets leading to the mall, passing through the streets lined with empty, hollow shops.

~❊~

The mall was crowded, as busy as it had always been since the day it opened. You pushed your way through the crowds gathered around storefronts and display windows, trying to remember which floor Scoops Ahoy was on.

You took the escalator down to the first floor and scanned the shops surrounding you. When you spotted the sign for the ice cream store, you headed toward it, maneuvering past a group of pre-teens cackling about manipulating the store's workers into giving them free samples.

There was no one at the counter when you walked in. A majority of the tables were occupied by groups of teens. As you approached the register, you could hear faint bickering from behind the pebbled glass windows, Robin's distinct voice floating out to you.

"...do the job you're supposed to do, I've been scooping so much ice cream my hand's cramped," she was saying.

You stifled a giggle and tapped your hand lightly against the bell in front of you, wincing when it was a little louder than you had been expecting.

The swing door on the left opened with a bang, revealing the back of a boy who was gesturing at Robin, who was quite literally pushing him out the door. She disappeared before you could catch her attention, and the other attendant took up his place in front of the register.

"Ahoy, sailor! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I'll be your captain, I'm Steve Harrington."

You blinked at him. "Is that company policy like the hat and the outfit?"

He stared at you. "I'm sorry, what?"

You shrugged. "I'm a friend of Robin's, she complains about the, and I quote, stupid company rules that make everyone look stupid."

He stared at you. You stared at him. Awkward silence settled between the two of you.

The introduction hadn't been necessary. You had spent most of your high school experience listening to Robin complain about Steve Harrington and his stupid perfect hair and his stupid easy charm and his stupid actual stupidity. The Steve she'd painted matched up perfectly with the kid you'd seen around in the halls, dressed in his ironed polo shirts and pleated khakis or that stupid basketball uniform and letterman jacket—and Nancy Wheeler on his arm.

You and Robin had watched his life crash and burn with malicious glee—and all the while you had tried to ignore that this was the very same boy you'd crushed on in middle school, and had been so shocked to find out had changed so much when you got to the high school, a year after he did.

Steve cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to the register, firmly away from you. "Um. What can I get you?"

"Uh..." Every ice cream flavor you had ever liked instantly disappeared from your head. It wasn't like the usual mind-blankness that came from being asked a question about your favorite anything. It was like your entire body had stopped, freezing in the pretty face of Steve Harrington, ridiculous as the uniform was. Especially with the hat, which Robin hadn't told you about.

The door swung open again. "Jesus, Steve, what's taking you so damn long?" Robin froze where she stood. A smile lit up her face. "What are you doing here?!"

You grinned. "Visiting!"

Robin hip-checked Steve out of the way. Steve glared at her while she grabbed the ice cream scoop from the pocket at his side.

"Jesus, do you have to be so brutal?" he snapped.

Clearly fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Robin turned back to Steve. "I'm sorry, would you please get out of the way so I can serve my best friend? Thanks," she said, her customer service smile plastered to her face.

Muttering under his breath, Steve pushed away from the counter, leaning on the sill of the window behind him. He crossed his arms, still staring resolutely at the floor.

Robin grinned at you. "I wasn't expecting you to—"

"Be here?" you finished. "I called your house before I realized you were working, so I thought I might as well come visit."

"Glad you did," she said. "You would not believe how much of a headache it is working with dingus over there."

You glanced over her shoulder at Steve, his pink lips forming a pissy pout. Oh, yeah. Still pretty, still a bitch.

"You didn't tell me you worked with him," you said under your breath.

Robin shrugged, shooting you a knowing smile. "Yeah, well, I knew you'd show up and find out for yourself eventually." Her eyes slid to the corners, as if she could see Steve sulking behind her. "We'll talk about him later. What ice cream do you want? On us."

You giggled. "How did I know you'd say that?"

She snorted. "Oh, so you're abusing our friendship for free ice cream?"

"Maybe," you said. "Just this once."

Robin rolled her eyes and grabbed an ice cream cone. "Here—I'll grab your favorite."

And, without you needing to remind her, she lowered the scoop into the tub of ice cream that you got every time the two of you had gotten ice cream after going to see a movie, back before the mall. You wondered how you could have forgotten, until you looked over Robin's shoulder again and found Steve looking up, lips parted and eyes fixed on you. The minute you caught his gaze, he blushed and looked away.

You took advantage of his embarrassment, admiring the pink in his cheeks and how he awkwardly licked his lips. He toyed with the watch on his wrist, crossed and uncrossed his legs. Was he nervous? An even better question—had you ever seen Steve Harrington nervous before?

While you studied Steve, Robin made a second cone of ice cream, a different flavor than yours.

Robin looked behind her. "Hey—man the counter, will you? I'm going on break."

Steve spluttered. "You just came back from break!"

"No, we just finished our lunch break. I still have my federally-required thirty minutes to take. So I'm gonna take 'em." She shoved the scoop at Steve's chest and stepped out from behind the counter.

The pair of you took an unoccupied table near the counter, in case she was needed.

"Should you be leaving him to do it by himself?" you asked, glancing back at Steve one last time.

"What, are you worried about him? He'll be fine," Robin said. She shrugged with a sigh. "He's...he's not as bad as we thought he was in high school. He's less of a douche now, at least."

"Just a dingus?" you asked with a smile.

She nodded. "He's still as stupid as we always thought."

You turned your attention away from Steve at toward your ice cream. "Why didn't you tell me he worked with you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Let's not have that conversation while he's here, okay? For your dignity's sake. I know he's far away, but he's got impressive hearing." She shrugged. "Blame it on four years of listening for gossip, I guess."

Your gaze shifted back to Steve as he raked a hand through his hair, stretching enough for his shirt to lift. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you crossed your legs. Now that he wasn't surrounded by assholes who mocked you and Robin and your friends for their own personal entertainment, it was easier to appreciate how he'd grown into himself since middle school. Taking care of himself had made him a whole new level of handsome.

Robin giggled. "Yeah—that's why we're not gonna talk about this while he's around. You still have a thing for him, don't you?"

Steve relaxed against the countertop, fixing his hair and putting the hat back on with a scowl. You cleared your throat.

"I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"Me? Forget about you having the most embarrassing crush on him for years? Only to get to high school and find out he'd become a dick? Never."

You groaned. "Oh, stop rubbing it in!"

A gaggle of girls walked into the store, four of them giggling and talking and rolling their eyes. Immediately, Steve stood up a little straighter and fiddled with his uniform.

Robin snorted. "Oh, watch this. He's been failing catastrophically with every girl that walks in. I keep count."

"You keep count?"

She nodded gleeful, pointing with her chin in the direction of the counter.

"Ahoy, ladies!" Steve said, leaning on the counter. His attempt to be attractive failed dismally, however, when his hand slipped off the side and he lost both his balance and his composure for a moment.

One of the girls giggled with her friend. Steve's cheeks darkened.

"I'm Steve Harrington, I'll be your captain on this ocean of flavor. What can I get you lovely ladies today?"

You glanced at Robin. "I don't see what he's doing wrong."

"That's because this is scripted," Robin whispered back.

The first girl stepped forward. "One scoop of chocolate and one of vanilla, please."

Steve tried a debonaire smile. "Oooh, classic, I like it. I'm all for vanilla myself, you know, all the time."

You winced. "Was...was that supposed to be a double entendre?"

"Yep," Robin said, popping the p with a smirk.

"I see what you mean now," you said. The girl was making a face that said she caught Steve's drift and found it rude. Steve cleared his throat and moved on, scooping ice cream into a cone and handing it to her with a mortified whisper of "here you go." His gaze flicked over to you and Robin, at which point his mortification seemed to grow.

You watched the exchange grow steadily worse. Steve stumbled over his words and tripped over his feet and dropped an empty cone twice. Customers who had already gotten ice cream became onlookers who left, one by one, as the secondhand embarrassment grew.

"God, he's hopeless," you whispered. "Whatever happened to the Steve in high school?"

"You mean the one with a new girl on his arm every week? I'd say that stopping can be blamed on one Nancy Wheeler," Robin said.

You rolled your eyes. "While they were dating, obviously. But now? One relationship shouldn't make him incapable of flirting with a girl."

Robin watched the girls leave, snickering behind their hands. A moment later, Steve groaned, wiping a hand over his face. "You know what I think his problem is?"

"What?"

"He's trying to flirt all of them into submission, not just one girl he likes out of the group."

You nodded slowly. "Sounds about right. I mean...if he flirted with me one minute and then you the next, I don't think I'd want to jump his bones, exactly."

Robin rolled her eyes. "What are you talking about? You've always wanted to jump his bones."

"That was middle school, and that was before any of us gave a shit about sex."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," Robin teased. "I saw how you looked at him during gym class."

You shrugged, trying to hide your face behind your hair. Robin knew your expressions better than anyone; your embarrassment was going to be obvious the minute she caught sight of you. "It's gym class! Guys don't wear shirts ninety percent of the time, they practically invite girls to stare." Your gaze slid back to Steve, who was once again staring at the floor. His cheeks were still red, and that pretty mouth of his had once again formed a pout. "Jesus, I don't think I've ever seen him so...despondent."

"He's like that at least five times a shift," Robin said. She played with a small red plastic spoon she had pulled from her pocket. "You know... You could come work here with us. Then you'd get to see Steve every day."

"Robin, you're constantly complaining about how much you hate working your, and I quote, pitiful minimum wage job."

"Yeah, but you like Steve, and eye candy makes the day go by faster."

You swatted her arm discreetly. "Don't objectify him!"

She rolled her eyes. "Hey, Steve!"

Steve looked up so quickly you swore you heard his neck crack, even with some distance between your table and the counter. "What?"

"Come convince her to work with us!"

You glared at her. "Robin, I already have a summer job!" you protested, trying to stop your heart from racing as Steve approached the two of you. You looked anywhere but him, knowing a soft smile and a well-timed flutter of his eyelashes was all it would take for Steve to convince you to do anything he asked.

Steve pulled a chair from the other table for two next to you, spinning it unnecessarily in his hand and dragging it to the edge of your table. He straddled it, leaning his arms against the backrest. Your heart climbed into your throat.

Steve's eyes met yours and every thought melted from your brain. Brown had never been such a pretty color. Although his eyes weren't just brown, they were hazel, mottled with soft greens and blues and greys. You'd never seen such beautiful eyes before, so expressive and kind and interested and attentive and—

"Tell her why she should come work with us," Robin said, breaking your focus on Steve's eyes.

You rolled your eyes. "Robin, I already have a job," you repeated. "A job I like that pays well that I can work at year-round."

Steve snorted, shaking his head absentmindedly. "Then don't come here, that's for sure. The pay is shit, the job is just as bad, and nobody likes ice cream in the winter."

Robin glared at him. "What part of convincing her do you not understand?"

Steve shrugged, ignoring her. "But, then again, you'd get to work with Robin and you might alleviate my boredom from dealing with her all the time." He jerked his head toward Robin. "You wouldn't believe how mean to me she is."

You stifled a giggle as Robin huffed. An easy grin reminiscent of the king he once as slid across Steve's face. You felt slightly giddy, knowing you had been the one to put it there.

More people walked into the store and Robin shot to her feet. "Come on, dingus. We have a job to do." She dragged him to his feet, ignoring his hiss of complaint. He shot you an apologetic shrug as she pulled him behind the register again.

While the two of them got back to work, you sat back in your booth table and finished your ice cream. Once you were done, you discreetly snuck out of the store, leaving a note for Robin at the counter promising to call her after her shift.

As you wrote the note and taped it to the register, you failed to notice Steve pause where he was scooping ice cream to watch you, or that his gaze stayed on you until you left the store and Robin had to snap him out of his reverie.

~❊~

Though it seemed utterly impossible, the next day was even hotter than the last. You lasted all of two hours at the community pool before you got tired of the screaming children and moms flirting with Billy Hargrove and you went home.

You changed out of your bathing suit, dressing more consciously than you had since the eighth grade semi-formal. You selected your jewelry carefully before hopping in your car and heading to the mall for a second time that week.

Scoops Ahoy was significantly less busy when you walked in. Robin looked half-asleep where she stood at the counter, but she brightened when you walked in.

"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" she asked, leaning on the counter with a grin.

You shrugged. "It's hot, ice cream is a solution."

She studied you for a moment. "The pool didn't solve that?"

You scoffed. "Hell no. It's full of tiny children and middle-aged moms and girls who only go so they can take up space and stare at Billy."

"And there's no Steve there, is there?" Robin teased.

You rolled your eyes. "No," you admitted. "Or you."

Robin scooped your ice cream and passed it to you over the countertop. "He'll be back soon, his break ends in a minute. He went to go grab us food."

"He what?"

Robin shrugged. "Yeah, he does that a lot. I hate to say it, but he's actually a nice guy. I think we might have been wrong about him."

You grinned. "So I was right back in middle school! I told you."

Robin rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you did." She cleared her throat. "Behind you."

You heard Steve's footsteps approaching a split second before he said, "Hey, you're back! Applying?"

Turning to face him, you snorted. "Absolutely not. I'm here for ice cream and ice cream alone."

Steve frowned. "What are we, chopped liver?" he asked, gesturing between himself and Robin.

"I'm surprised you know that phrase," Robin said.

Steve made a face. "I do know some things, Robin." He turned back to you. "I told you she's mean to me."

You laughed. "She's mean to everyone sometimes, it's nothing personal."

"Yes it is, dingus," Robin said, and you remembered she had plenty of reasons aside from Steve's years mocking her and her friends to be angry with him.

You just shrugged at him when Steve looked at you for guidance. He copied your shrug and passed Robin a plastic bag that smelled heavenly.

"If I'd known you were coming to visit, I would have gotten you something," Steve said apologetically.

"Oh, it's fine," you promised. "I've got ice cream." He smiled at you, his laughter shining through. "Honestly, I'm surprised you two don't exist off of ice cream."

"We used to," Robin said.

Steve nodded. "It got pretty tiring after a week. It's like when they told us in health class that energy from sugar doesn't last very long. Or something like that."

Robin squinted at him. "You can't remember enough of high school to get to college, but you can remember health class?"

"I remembered enough to graduate," Steve mumbled, cheeks turning pink once again. You were starting to get used to Steve's embarrassment. It was as cute as he always was.

"Stay and eat with us," Robin said, turning back to you. "I'll split my fries with you. You did remember the fries, didn't you, dingus?"

"Of course I remembered the fries," Steve snorted. He dropped the Closed for lunch! sign on the counter and held the swinging door open for you. You thanked him as you walked by, aware of his eyes following you.

You sat in the seat Robin pulled out for you and finished your ice cream before stealing some of the previously offered fries.

"I think we're closing early, Robin," Steve said, glancing out the cracked window. "We've had, what, three people all day?"

"Four if you count the Radio Shack employee across the way," Robin said. "But I don't, because they get it for free."

You frowned. "Do I not count as a customer because you give me ice cream for free?"

Steve shook his head a bit too quickly. "No, you count, Robin just doesn't like the Radio Shack employees."

"Because they're rude," she complained. "They complain about everything and change their minds three times—but always after you've already started scooping, and even when you're done, they don't like it!"

"Sounds like a regular day in customer service," you said, feigning cheerfulness.

"Yeah, a shitty day," Robin said.

"Where do you work?" Steve asked. "I don't think I've ever asked."

"The record store down on Main," you said.

"You know, the one I said I had been planning on working at," Robin said. "But Scoops hired faster."

"Maybe we should switch jobs," Steve muttered.

Robin snorted. "Yeah, like that'll go over well."

"The store won't hire more people, anyway," you cut in. "It got rid of most of the staff, especially the new people, to cut costs because of the mall."

"Is there a record store in here?" Steve asked.

"No, but there is a Sam Goody and a Camelot Music in the mall. We used to have a partnership with the Sam Goody on Main, but then it closed due to the mall, and we started losing business to the one in the mall." You sighed. "I hear about it all the time. It's all the owner ever talks about these days."

Steve munched on a fry, staring at you as you spoke. His eyes were stuck firmly on you. You tried not to squirm under his intense gaze.

Robin leaned back in her chair. "One of these days, I'm gonna visit you at work instead."

You rolled your eyes. "If you ever have a day off," you said.

"Kinda hard to have a day off when we're the only two working here," Steve said.

You nodded. "The constant problem of being short staffed."

"That would be solved if you just came and worked here," Robin muttered into her wrap. You rolled your eyes again, stealing another one of her fries.

"No, Robin."

Robin harrumphed and took a bite of her sandwich more viciously than twas strictly required.

Steve faked a pout. "You just really don't like us, do you?"

"She doesn't," Robin agreed, smirking. You knew that smirk; she was going to do her best to guilt trip you—using Steve, which was perhaps the only way to guilt you into doing what she wanted.

You rolled your eyes. "It's got nothing to do with you, I promise."

"Ouch," they said in unison.

You frowned. "What are you, the same person?"

They both shrugged.

"Alright, that's just weird," you sighed. You glanced down at your watch. "How long does your lunch break last?"

"Thirty minutes. Why?" Steve asked.

You shrugged. "Wouldn't want you to get fired because I'm here distracting you."

Steve propped his head up on his hand. Stray curls of hair fell into his face. Your heart twisted in your chest. He was beautiful. How could he be so beautiful?

Robin watched as you and Steve stared at each other. You were aware of her gaze bouncing back and forth between the two of you, observing the way you were melting under his gaze, your lips parting the longer he looked at you, the barriers you'd put up slowly crumbling. Steve was no better, staring at you with open, asking eyes. He moistened his lower lip with his tongue and it took everything in you not to whimper.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the look on Robin's face—the look of disgust that crossed her face every time she was disgusted by public affection from straight couples. Your heart did flips at the sight of her expression.

"Would you guys stop that?" she groaned, getting up from her seat.

"Doing what?" Steve asked, still looking at you. You tore your eyes away from him and back to the half-empty container of fries.

"Making eyes at each other," she said. Steve spluttered, instantly losing the lovey look in his eyes.

"Making eyes— Robin, what are you talking about?"

You cleared your throat. "Hey, um, what's the board for?" You hoped your question would steer the conversation away from the feeling bubbling in your chest at the sight of Steve.

Steve groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

"I told you I was keeping score of Steve's failing dating life. This is my scoreboard."

You nearly choked. "You keep track of it on a whiteboard at work?!" You looked at the neatly drawn board, the 'You Rule' and 'You Suck' columns divided by a line.

"Actually, I have to put the one from yesterday on here."

Steve groaned again, cheeks burning very red. He looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and stay there.

You watched her add a line. "Robin..."

"She's right, I suck," Steve sighed. "My luck's been pretty shit recently."

"You don't suck, she's just being mean," you said. You sent her a look, shaking your head slightly. She just shrugged.

"You don't have to be nice about it," he said. "I know how bad I am at this. I haven't gotten laid in months."

"Okay, too much information, Steve," you said with a little laugh.

"Oh, so this suddenly isn't a safe place to talk about all our life troubles?" he teased.

You laughed fully. He smiled, and the room seemed to light up with the glow emanating from him.

"Get a room," Robin groaned.

Steve turned around. "I'm not flirting, Robin!"

"Yeah, right," Robin smirked. "It's just working this time."

You coughed. "I, um, I have to go."

They both turned back to you, as if they'd forgotten that you were even there.

"Shit, hang on," Steve started, but Robin cut him off.

"No, wait, I didn't mean it like that—" Robin said, realizing she'd practically told Steve you liked him.

"Yeah, right, I know, I just have, uh..." You fumbled for an excuse for a minute. "I have to go drive a friend home! I'll call you later, Robs!" You rushed out the swinging door just as the bell at the counter rang.

Steve pushed his hands through his hair. "Shit."

"Oh, no," Robin whispered. "Steve, ignore that, ignore all of that, I screwed up, I shouldn't have said anything, she's going to be so pissed. It's just that she's liked you since middle school and it's gotten worse now that you're not a douchebag—" Robin clapped a hand over her mouth.

"I won't tell her you said that," Steve said quietly. "Oh, Jesus, Robin..."

"I'm sorry—"

"Stop apologizing to me," Steve said. "If you hadn't said anything, I never would have realized."

Robin made a face. "See, that's why you suck, not because you're bad at flirting with girls. You've just been flirting with the wrong ones, because you're oblivious of the ones that actually like you."

Steve was quiet for a moment. "Yeah. Thanks for pointing that out." He peered out the window, watching you leave the mall, wiping at your eyes and pushing your hair out of your eyes.

Simultaneously, Steve and Robin whispered, "Shit."

At the counter, Erica Sinclair tapped the bell again. "Hello? I want some samples!"

They shouted, "Shut up!"

Steve slammed the glass doors shut.

~❊~

Steve unlocked his front door, stepped inside his house, and put his back to the closed door. He slid down the door with a heavy sigh.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath. All he had been able to see since you left Scoops was your stricken face, horrified and embarrassed that Robin had spilled your biggest secret. (Which Robin had told him after, in bits and pieces, while they closed up the store.)

Steve couldn't believe it. How had he never noticed? Granted, he hadn't been the most observant for, well, the majority of his life. And his middle school years had been fairly dull, unmemorable. But wouldn't have noticed if you—you, out of everyone in Hawkins Middle—had been crushing on him?

To his utter shame, the most Steve remembered of you in middle school was how you had been a good friend to him, long before any of his high school friends knew who he was, and that he'd ditched you once he got to high school. You'd helped him study a few times, too. He wasn't sure what year it was, but he knew you'd helped him pass both English and History in the same year.

He'd shared a handful of classes with you, too, when classes had been so small they'd mixed grades. Sixth grade science, when the two of you had worked on a minor chemical project together. In seventh grade, you'd had two classes together. Gym, which had been downright brutal so early in the morning, especially when the teachers split up the teams as boys against girls. He remembered you had gotten nailed in the head with a basketball once, and that he'd been asked by your teacher to take you to the nurse. Then there had been math class, where he'd sat behind you, asking you questions and begging you to explain the concepts he didn't understand—even though you didn't understand it much more than he did. Eighth grade history, where Steve had done a presentation on his grandfather's experience in the World War, and you had been the only to actually raise your hand to ask a question.

Steve got up from the door and went up to his bathroom, stripping out of his uniform to take a shower. While the water soaked his hair and skin, warming him up, Steve's mind turned back to you—not that it had ever really left you.

You had been his first crush. Well, his first real crush. You'd been pretty, even when you were young and curious and a year younger than he was. Most of his friends had said that the younger girls were cute, but embarrassing to like. So Steve hid that he liked you. It wasn't until Nancy in high school, when it became cool, that he dated anyone younger than himself.

He wished he'd said something to you then. Would it have saved him a world of hurt? Or would it just have been an even worse broken heart waiting for him?

Steve recalled the way you had looked at him earlier, your eyes practically sparkling and your lips stretching into a gorgeous, content smile. It had stopped his heart to know that he was the reason you looked so happy, that he had brought that smile to your lips and that he had made those smile lines around your eyes appear and that he had been the reason your pupils were blown wide.

Steve shut off the shower and pulled on a new pair of boxers, flopping onto his bed with a content sigh, which matched the happy smile on his face.

You liked him.

Feeling like a teenage girl, Steve rolled until he could hide an excited squeal in his pillow.

You liked him again.

Steve was certain that's what made him so giddy. You'd liked him before he'd become King Steve, before the popularity made him interesting—and you liked him again, now that he'd changed and learned and grown up. Now that he'd learned to be himself without a care in the world for anyone else's opinion.

It was like redemption, but it felt so much better than that.

A sudden feeling overwhelmed Steve.

The next time he saw you, he needed to tell you how he felt about you. He needed to make it clear that Robin's slip-up had not ruined the slow banter, the friendship the two of you had been dancing around.

Resolved, his thoughts stopped spinning. He turned off the lamp on his nightstand and shut his eyes.

Please come back tomorrow, he thought, before falling into a gentle sleep, full of dreams of romanticized meetings, confessions, and kisses.

~❊~

You avoided Scoops for several days, choosing to tough out the warm weather in the overcrowded community pool until your mortification subsided. Robin had called repeatedly to assure you Steve wasn't weirded out or annoyed or embarrassed by your crush on him. In fact, she almost made it sound as if he was pleased by it.

But you still couldn't make yourself go to Scoops Ahoy. Even the mental image of walking in and seeing Steve's face twist with some kind of disgust made your stomach twist.

But a girl could only take so much of Billy Hargrove. So, after nearly a week, you drove to the mall instead of the pool. It still took you nearly ten minutes to force yourself out of your car.

You had thought seeing Steve and Robin in their sailor uniforms had been strange, but there was a far stranger sight directly ahead of you: Robin at the counter, staring in absolute confusion, and Steve jumping with joy at the sight of the small child in the front of the store.

"Henderson!" Steve's smile was huge. The sight made you smile, albeit a bit more confused. "Henderson! He's back, he's back!"

"I'm back! You got the job!"

"I got the job!"

And then, just when you thought this strange scene could not get any weirder, Steve mimed playing a trumpet and both he and the child did a strange miming handshake, giggling all the while.

Robin leaned forward. "How many children are you friends with?"

Steve's overjoyed smile slipped from his face. He gestured to Robin with a strained look on his face, as if he were signaling See what I have to deal with?

"You mean there's more children?" you asked, walking up to them with a shy smile, almost embarrassed to make your return. Your stomach dipped as Steve turned to you, but his smile was back.

"Hey, you're back!" Steve said. "I thought we'd never see you again!"

You shrugged. "Yeah, well, I got tired of Billy flirting with me."

"Max's brother?" the child asked.

You stared at him. "I don't know who that is. Or who you are, actually."

"Oh, I'm—"

"This is Dustin," Steve interrupted. "Dustin Henderson. He's, uh, he's one of my friends." He went behind the counter and started making an ice cream sundae.

You gave Dustin your name and offered him your hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"How do you know Steve?" Dustin asked.

At the same time, both you and Steve pointed to Robin. She waggled her fingers at him.

"I'm going on break," Steve said, handing the sundae to Dustin. "Your turn to man the counter. Come on, Dustin, my treat!"

The two of them slipped into a booth. You leaned against the countertop with a heavy sigh.

"There's like...five or six of them," Robin said. "Kids, I mean. That he's friends with."

"Jesus," you muttered. "How old are these kids?"

"Like...thirteen, maybe?"

"Oh, boy."

Robin giggled. "Looks like you gotta share your man with children now."

You choked. "He's— He's not my man, Robin!" you hissed, your entire body burning. You glanced at Steve, but he was too engrossed in whatever story Dustin was telling him.

"But that's why you're here, isn't it?" Robin asked. "You came back because you're ready to talk to him again, knowing that you like him and he likes you."

You glanced over at Steve. While you observed him, Robin slipped out from behind the counter, quietly humming to herself as she worked.

"Yeah, I mean, sure," he was saying to Dustin. "It's not really a good idea for me though, gotta keep in shape for the ladies." Was it just your imagination, or did his eye stray over toward you?

"Yeah, and how's that working out for you?" Robin teased.

"Ignore her," Steve said quickly.

"She seems cool," Dustin said.

"She's not," Steve said, even quicker. "But, uh, the girl you just met? She's cool. She's really cool." A smile tugged at your lips. You pushed it away as you looked down at the floor, completely missing Steve's lovestruck glance toward you.

Dustin, however, missed nothing, and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really, Steve?"

Steve cleared his throat. "Anyway. So, uh, where are the other knuckleheads?"

"They ditched me yesterday," Dustin said.

"No," Steve said, his face falling. Your heart squeezed at the sight of his empathy. The Steve from high school never would have cared about a kid whose friends had abandoned him, but this Steve did.

"My first day back! Can you believe that shit?"

"Whoa, seriously?!" Steve demanded, incredulous. Your heart warmed once again.

You turned back to Robin. "In answer to your earlier question," you said under your breath, "yes, that is exactly what I'm here to do."

She giggled. "I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" She paused. "Was Billy Hargrove really flirting with you?"

You nodded. "I guess he doesn't really care about high school social status, as long as he gets laid." You shuddered. "I've never felt more objectified in my life, and I pranced around on stage in fishnets and a bodysuit in front of the entire school last year during Chicago!"

"I'm still convinced that was our best show," Robin said.

"I'd like to know how we got the rights to it," you snorted.

"I'd like to know how we convinced Principal Higgins to let us perform it."

You snorted. "Yeah. Has anybody heard anything about next year's shows?"

"Nothing yet," Robin said.

You harrumphed, your gaze sliding back to Steve and Dustin and found them talking in hushed tones. Steve's face was fixed into an expression of embarrassed confusion.

"Oh, got customers, hang on," Robin said, and served them while you moved off to the side, watching Dustin speak behind his hand. Steve just blinked at him and told him to speak up.

"I intercepted a secret Russian communication!" Dustin said, far too loudly.

The entire store went quiet. You and Robin exchanged a glance.

"Jesus, shhhh!" Steve hissed. "Yeah, okay, that's what I thought you said."

Business as normal resumed and Robin's customers headed for their own table.

You cleared your throat. "Well, I guess I should head out—"

"No, no, no, wait! What about Steve?"

"He's busy, Robs," you said, gesturing to him. Your stomach did flips at the cute, teasing little expression on his pretty face as you caught him saying American heroes. You weren't sure you wanted to know what mischief they were getting into. "I'll just...come back tomorrow."

Robin sighed. "Fine. As long as you let me play matchmaker!"

You rolled your eyes. "You've been doing that for the past, what, four years?"

"Yeah, but this time I might actually be successful!"

You shook your head with a smile. "Catch you later, Robin. Bye, Steve!" you added as you walked past.

Steve's head snapped up. He scrambled up from his seat at the booth. "Hey, wait, wait, where are you going?" He caught your arm and your eyes darted to his fingers on you. Every possible excuse was wiped from your head. "I thought you were gonna stay and...hang out for a little while."

You smiled apologetically. "Yeah, I was going to, but your friend just came back, so I figured I'd just come back another time. So you don't have to...divide your already divided attention, y'know?" You gestured back to the counter.

Though there was understanding in Steve's eyes, he still looked disappointed. "Oh...um... Would you—" He cleared his throat, his cheeks gaining a deep pink shade. "Would you maybe wanna hang out together—" He stopped again. "Would you wanna go on a date? With me? Sometime?"

You couldn't stop the smile that stretched across your face. "When?"

"Oh, you know, whenever you want? If you want to, I mean."

You stopped his rambling with a finger against his lips. His eyes widened. "I want to, Steve. I really, really want to. I always have."

He beamed. "Really?"

"Really," you promised. You patted his chest. "Even in this stupid little uniform."

He laughed. "What do you say to...two days from now? Meet me here at the end of my shift so Robin can make fun of us like always—" You laughed with him. "—and then we can go see a movie?" His thumb caressed the skin of your arm. That single touch alone sent butterflies through your stomach, not to mention the beautiful, sappy look in his eyes.

"I'd like that," you said. "I'd like that a lot."

"And, um, if you'd like, there's a little dinner about ten minutes from here with awesome milkshakes we could go to after."

You beamed. "Oh, Steve."

"Yeah?"

"You're absolutely perfect," you said to him, cupping his cheek and smoothing your fingers over his skin. He hummed happily. "Steve?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I... Do you... Can we kiss? I know it's soon, it's just... I've wanted this for a long time."

Steve beamed. He leaned in, cupping the back of your head and pulling you into him. His lips touched yours, and you swore your body crackled with electricity. A feeling similar to pins and needles, but far more pleasant, spread throughout you.

He made to pull away. You brought both your hands to his cheeks and held him to you, kissing him for all you were worth.

In the booth, Dustin's mouth dropped open. A grin spread across his face.

At the counter, Robin, who couldn't see the kiss but saw your hands slide into Steve's hair, pulled out her whiteboard and added a singular tally into the 'You Rule' column.

She glanced back at you and Steve. Steve had broken the kiss to tug you close to him, hugging you to his chest. You twisted your hand into his hair, smiling over his shoulder, your eyes closed against the rest of the world.

Robin grinned; she guessed the 'You Suck' tallies didn't matter anymore. Steve had found the one his charm worked on.

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

part 2 coming soon!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

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theladyofdeath · 8 months

Text

Lady Death's Lover {VII}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR B ased on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: I meant to post this, like, a week ago...but I have to admit that I've been pretty down lately. It's not been a good mental health week. I apologize for the delay! Now that the school year is in full swing, I may only be posting one chapter a week instead of two. Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy! x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

Dear Gwyn,

Emerie and I missed you this last tea. She told me all about her recent travels and now we must wait to hear all about yours once you return. Selfishly, I am glad you will not be gone for long. I swear, I am living vicariously through you and Emerie. I absolutely adore hearing about all the two of you see and do beyond the borders of Velaris. I will not spoil all that Emerie told me for I am certain you wish for her to tell you herself.

I will, however, briefly mention something that I shared. In all honesty, I’m a bit embarrassed about it. No one will ever know about it with the exception of the two of you. There is…a man. This man keeps popping into my mind and just yesterday he popped into my carriage as well. Although, I believe I am to blame for that. It was storming and I offered him shelter. However, that is not the issue. The issue is that, on multiple occasions now, I have felt towards this man. I do not need to tell you how troubling that is.

I have not acted on these feelings, of course, but when he is near I lose all sense of myself and my duties. It seems silly. I do not know him, not truly. Perhaps I am simply lonely and find him handsome, that is all. At least, I hope that is all.

Please burn this letter once you have read it and write back soon.

With love,

Nesta

The sun is shining and the air is warm but I am absolutely miserable. I have been dragged to yet another social dinner alongside my husband. I am on his arm pretending to be the most loyal, loving wife, but inside I am raging. I feel like a caged animal ready to attack, only my target is my husband and that will simply not do.

Apparently, such thoughts are frowned upon.

Unsure of what this dinner is actually for, my mind has already become vacant once we reach our chairs. We are seated across from a few of Tomas’ business partners and their wives, high ranking members of the ton like ourselves. I let the men talk and for once I am grateful for it. If we women were to talk, I would have nothing kind to say to these women. In fact, I would surely say something to them that would get me smacked by the man on my arm.

My husband has never liked my sharp tongue. I figured that out quite quickly.

It had been less than twenty-four hours into our marriage, the morning after our wedding, our consummation, when he first struck me. He entered my bedchamber and was appalled that I was still nude from the night before. I asked him why he did not like my body, while he was ashamed of my nakedness when it was he that stripped me bare the night before. His response was to throw a nightgown at me and tell me to cover up. He said that no woman should be bare in daylight that is not a whore.

I refused to put the gown on.

And then he hit me.

From that moment, not even twenty-four hours after we had said our vows, I knew my marriage would never be one full of love.

We eat and the food is decent. The roasted chicken is flavorful and the vegetables have just enough crunch to be satisfying. Tomas does not allow me to drink the wine, but I long for it, just to help me get through the evening until I am safely alone in my room once more with only the company of a good book.

Unable to make eye contact with the women across from me, my gaze drifts further down the table and my breathing halts.

I hadn’t even realized he was here. I was so deep within my own thoughts and misery that I hadn’t taken account of who else was present with the exception of those seated across from us. He must have arrived after we did.

As if he can feel my eyes on him, his eyes swivel to mine.

Lord Cassian is dressed in all his finery and it suits him, strangely. He is always dressed finely, but I still imagine him as a man that is naturally a bit unkempt. I would like to see that version of him.

I give him a polite nod.

He returns the gesture.

I turn to Tomas to see if he notices my distraction but he is in an enthusiastic conversation with the man beside him — a man whose name I’ve forgotten. He must be important for some reason.

I try not to look back at Cassian, I truly do, but I can feel him staring. My thoughts drift back to our time in my carriage. Although the ride was short, there was more excitement in that ride than I’ve had with any man in years. Thankfully we arrived at his home before anything could have happened.

And I fear that if the ride had continued any longer, something would have happened. I know such a thing is blasphemy, but I cannot help but wonder what it would be like.

To be ravished by a man like Lord Cassian.

I look at him once more. His jaw is hard, his eyes dark, as if he knows the thoughts that are running through my mind. I reach for my glass of wine before I remember I do not have one, that my husband does not trust me to drink.

Realizing I’ve been locking eyes with a lord who is not my husband for far too long, I focus on my empty plate. Still, I can feel his gaze linger, can feel his eyes roaming my body, begging me to look his way. I do not, can not.

Suddenly, I feel like I cannot breathe. The room has grown too hot and I feel as if I am suffocating. Luckily, everyone around the table has begun to rise. I believe the owner of this home, whoever he is, has offered to show everyone something he deems extravagant. Tomas tells me to stay with the other ladies while he goes off to see this extravagant piece of uselessness and leaves me be.

I take the opportunity to get far, far away.

After sneaking through multiple winding hallways, I find myself outside and in the gardens. The early evening air is cool and welcoming as the sun begins its descent. I immediately find peace in the silence.

The silence evaporates too quickly.

“Lady Nesta, are you alright?”

I spin around to see, of course, Lord Cassian. He’s standing casually, with his hands clasped behind his back. He’s not smiling. In fact, he looks concerned.

“Yes, of course,” I reply, trying my best to remain unaffected. “You should return to the party.”

“The men have gone to see Lord Kallias’ new hunting trophies.” He shrugs and I want to laugh at how informal he seems. “I do not care to see such things. I care more to see how you are faring after looking so miserable for the past hour.”

I snort. “And here I thought I was good at hiding my emotions.”

“You are,” he says, with no hesitation. “I may have been paying more attention than the others.”

I’m blushing.

I hate myself for blushing.

Suddenly, I can feel his hand on my knee, my hand on his. I was foolish for touching him, for asking what I was about to ask that day in the carriage, but I find it hard to find regret.

I clear my throat. “I see.”

He takes a step toward me, then another, and I’m frozen in place.

“You should really go back inside, my lord,” I say, my hands drawing into fists at my sides to keep me grounded. “This is…”

“Inappropriate?” he supplies, stopping a mere foot away. “I mean nothing untoward. Besides, you and I were alone in your carriage just the other day and I do not recall you thinking that inappropriate.”

That may be true, but it quickly grew inappropriate once I wanted to rip off his clothes and mount him on the velvet bench.

Wonderful. Now that’s all I’m thinking about.

“I have changed my mind,” I say, quickly. “That and this are both inappropriate. Good day, my lord.”

He doesn’t move.

“I came out here to be alone,” I add.

He still doesn’t move.

Just as I’m about to yell at him, he says, ever-so-calmly, “He does not cherish you as he should.”

My back goes rigid. “Pardon me?”

“Your husband,” he says, as if he has any right to what he’s saying, as if it’s not blasphemy to be speaking to a married woman this way. “He does not cherish you. The entire dinner, he looked at you once, and the look he gave you was the same as if he was scolding a child.”

Anger fuels me. There must be a certain level of arrogance to make a man say such a thing. My shock-filled anger must show because he shrugs.

Shrugs.

“I apologize if you do not care for my opinion,” he says, “but I have never been one to hold my tongue.”

I cannot breathe. “You know not of what you speak.”

"And what is that?" he asks, that smirk remaining. "The truth? I know very well that I speak the truth. It is you that does not want to accept it."

My jaw aches from how hard it’s clenching. “I believe you are drunk, my lord.”

My hostile tone doesn’t sway him. In fact, it makes his eyes grow brighter. He thinks I’m joking. He must, or he wouldn’t be this ignorant.

“I may not be sober,” he confesses. “Although, I am far from drunk. Do I look drunk?”

No, he does not, but some people have a certain skill set for hiding their inebriation. Yet, he remains the perfect picture of a gentleman.

“Leave,” I order, and when he does not, I add, “Please. Do not make me beg.”

He does not falter. “I would not mind making you beg, Lady Nesta.”

I ignore the way my cheeks heat. “Lady Mandray is what you should refer to me as.”

“Is that the name you truly prefer?” he asks, and that humor dims, if only a little. He’s standing so close to me now that his scent is strong, overpowering me. Mint, with a hint of tobacco. “If so, it is what I will call you, but I fear you prefer Lady Nesta. Perhaps even just, simply, Nesta.”

Honestly, I’m surprised I’ve been able to control myself for this long. “You must stop speaking to me as if you know me,” I snap. “We do not know each other. You are no friend of mine. The way you are speaking to me is distasteful to say the least. I have never had to endure such an absurd conversation, much less from a member of high society. You should be ashamed of yourself, my lord, to embarrass yourself in front of a lady, to act a fool. If you will not leave me alone, then I shall leave you be.”

I go to take a step around him, but he steps in my path and our bodies nearly collide.

It’s annoying how he has a habit of doing that.

“Should I scream?” I whisper. It’s meant to be a threat, but my body feels like it’s on fire. “Cry out for help?”

“I have no intention of harming you,” he says, taken aback, as if the idea is ludicrous. I nearly feel bad for insinuating such a thing.

“No,” I say, and I mean it. “I know you would not.”

He swallows, and neither of us move.

“I will leave you alone,” he says, and his voice is low, reaching my very core. I can feel his breath on my face, the warmth, smelling like expensive red wine. “I apologize if I have overstepped. And you are right. I do not know you, not well, but I have seen glimpses of who you are and that woman is very different from the woman who I saw sitting at that dinner table, next to a man she seems to loathe. I know you well enough to know that you deserve better than a loveless marriage. That is all.”

“My lord—”

“Fogive me,” he breathes, and he sways forward as my breath catches.

I called him a fool but it is I who is the fool. I am foolish for wanting this man to kiss me, to touch me, to sweep me into his arms and make me feel something.

“There is nothing to forgive,” I say, and look from his welcoming lips to his eyes that are watching me so intently that I feel completely nude.

He leans in closer and the panic sets in.

“I am sorry,” I say, and my voice sounds pathetically broken. “I must go back before Tomas returns.”

As much as I wish to have this moment, long to have this moment, I cannot endure Tomas’ wrath nor can I bear to embarass both myself and my husband before all these guests. I may be foolish, but I am not that foolish.

Not now, not yet.

One look at me and Lord Cassian nods. There is no judgment in his gaze, there is only understanding.

This time, he bows, and meets my eyes once more before walking away.

“Goodbye, Nesta.”

I do not breathe again until he is completely out of sight.

#fanfic #acotar #fanfiction #nessian #acowar #acomaf #period au #regency au #19th century au

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lemony-snickers · 1 year

Note

“Let me help you”

I was thinking Kakashi…surprise surprise...but really anyone you’re comfortable writing for/with…just love me some hurt/comfort (sorry if this is too vague!) hope your day is less annoying now :)

Kakashi shouldn't be here. What was he thinking?

It's bad enough he's already gotten blood on the window and now on the bathroom door.

Akami is not going to be pleased.

His fingers tremble as he tries to open the meager first aid kit she keeps under the sink. He's perched on the side of the bathtub, legs too shaky to stand.

As he sheds his flak vest, letting it fall back into the tub behind him, Kakashi wonders where Akami is. He expected her to be home when he tumbled through her window. The eerie emptiness of the house makes him uneasy so late in the evening.

Is he really here? Or has he hallucinated his return? Maybe he's still lying in that field, rain and blood pooling beneath his body--indistinguishable from one another as they mix in the mud.

Kakashi's breath heaves as he tries to apply disinfectent to the wound. He could try to heal it with medical ninjutsu, but his fingers are too shaky. And anyway, he's never been a very good medic. With his vision swimming, now, he might make the wound worse if he tried.

He yelps a little when he finally gets a good amount of the stuff on his wound. Fuck, that hurts.

He doesn't like to admit the wave of relief he feels when he hears the front door open and close, feels Akami's chakra step inside the house. He pushes the door open with his foot so she won't think someone's trying to hide from her.

Her footsteps are soft against the floor, but he can sense they're heavier than usual. Kakashi looks up when she stops in the doorway and it becomes clear why--Sasuke is asleep in her arms, head drooped against one of her shoulders.

Oh. He shouldn't have come here.

Akami glares down at him, the dark circles beneath her eyes standing starkly out against the pallor of her skin. She says nothing, just sucks her teeth and continues on to Sasuke's bedroom. Kakashi can just hear the sounds of his sheets shifting as she tucks him into bed.

He should leave. Clearly, Akami is not interested in entertaining him this evening.

When she returns to the bathroom, she closes the door behind her quietly and kneels down before him without a word. Normally, he'd love this--seeing her on her knees does things to him he isn't necessarily proud of--but she looks so exhausted now all he feels is guilt.

"Sorry," he says, his breath pushing a few strands of hair away from her face.

Her gilded eyes flick up to meet his briefly and she sighs. "It's fine."

It isn't. "I'll go."

She rolls her eyes. "Don't be stupid, you're already here. There's blood everywhere to prove it."

Kakashi winces, bites his tongue before he says sorry again, knowing she'll just be irritated if he does.

"Is Sasuke okay?" he asks instead.

Akami heaves a sigh, lets her forehead drop to Kakashi's knee. "He had a fever last night and it wouldn't go down. We've been at the Hospital all day."

Her fingers tremble almost as badly as his when she takes the disinfectant from him. He resists, not wanting to burden her any further than he already has. "Akami, it's okay, I've got it."

"Just let me help you," she snaps, glaring at him again, her pupils filed to the finest slits. "That's why you're here, right? For my help?" he nods mutely, recognizing that her irate energy is not entirely a product of his bloody appearance in her bathroom, but the culmination of all the stress Sasuke's condition surely caused her over the past twenty-four hours. "So let me help you," she repeats quietly.

"Okay," he says, relinquishing the bottle and the blood-soaked rag he'd used to apply it.

Akami cleans his wound without another word, wiping it clean and applying an antiobiotic ointment before wrapping a gauze bandage over it with much more finesse than he could have managed on his own.

"You should go to the Hospital tomorrow to have it better tended to," she says.

Normally, Kakashi would argue or lie, but he doesn't have the heart to do that to her now, so instead he threads his fingers into her hair and pulls her close so he can kiss her forehead through his mask.

"Okay," he promises, feeling her relax in his grip, her own hands coming to rest on his thighs, anchor herself. "I'm sorry about Sasuke," he says, "That must have been terrifying." She nods mutely, biting her lower lip in an uncharacteristic bid to keep her emotions from slipping out. "I'm glad he's feeling better."

Her voice is thready and thin when she answers, "Me, too."

There's still blood to clean off the window. And the doorway and the tub, but they ignore it, opting instead to make their way to Akami's bedroom where Kakashi lies on his good side and pulls her close. There will be blood to clean off the sheets in the morning, too, but that's a problem for then. All that matters now is that their breathing synchronizes, their nerves stop rapid-firing and the fight-or-flight they've both felt for different reasons over the previous hours dissipates.

Because there can be no danger while they hold one another. Akami is Kakashi's safe harbor. He thinks he might be hers, too. Suddenly, he's glad he stumbled through her window bloody and trembling and dazed. Not because she helped clean his wound, but so he can be here for her when she needs him.

There's nowhere else he'd rather be.

#kakaoc #kakaoc fanfiction #oc: akami #akamikazae #lemony scribbles #friday flash fic fest #tw blood

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sweeethinny · 2 years

Text

Life was too cruel for you, but now it's over

It's been some time since I've written and posted anything, but, watching That 70' Show, it came into my head and I needed to write. I hope you like :)

---------

It was almost four in the afternoon, not a time that Lily used to be home since her shift didn't end until seven-thirty at night, but for some reason—the one she didn't want to think too much about—she was home. James wasn't there, and Harry had canceled dinner with them because of a meeting that had popped up for him at the last minute, so until almost eight o'clock, Lily would be there, alone.

Only her.

And the pregnancy test in front of her.

See, not that Lily and James were trying, she was almost forty, it was a risky age to have children, and ever since the war ended—less than five years ago—she and James had been doing everything they hadn't done in the past, that is: taking advantage of life to travel, have a new wedding party, create new hobbies, and have a life as a couple that was stolen from them. They went on midweek dates, drank wine until a few hours in the night, danced at parties and in the living room… They were living their young lives.

But if that test, still untouched, revealed to Lily that she was pregnant, it would all come crashing down again.

Of course, now they had a much better idea of how to raise a human, they weren't twenty anymore, but even so, Lily didn't know if James wanted another child. Not even she knew if she wanted to.

They always talked about Harry having a brother, but that was before, when he was still a child/teenager, now it seems a little abnormal that it was even an idea for them.

Lily stared at the test and the test stared back at her, it looked like when she was twenty and she was in the kitchen of her and James' new house, sitting alone during a rainy morning, crying silently in complete panic of peeing and finding that yes, she and James would be parents.

Her fear back then made a lot more sense than the fear Lily was feeling now, but maybe that was what Harry kept saying his psychologist was saying to him, something like "post-traumatic disorder" or something. Maybe she was just relating the experiences and creating a world in her head where this new child—if there were any—would suffer as much as Harry did.

Lily couldn't bear to almost lose another child, that was already too much for her.

But the war was over, wasn't it? Wasn't it a better time that, in an attempt to create new memories, she and James had a child in a world where there is no one who wants to kill them at all costs? A world where they can be parents normally?

Why was she so afraid of this?

Lily glanced at the clock on the wall, it hadn't even been five minutes since she sat there, not making any other sounds, just watching the test in front of her.

Apollo, the cat she and James had adopted, was sitting at the table, looking at her curiously as if he sensed that Lily was worried and anxious for some reason; he always seemed to know when things weren't easy, which is why she allowed him to stay there instead of taking him out and fighting over him to continue this thing of climbing on the table — he had already broken a vase of flowers she loved.

''What am I going to do?'' Lily looked at the animal in front of her, green eyes staring back at her with the dilated pupils. “I think I felt less desperate when I was twenty,” she muttered, laying her head on the wooden table, already feeling the tears welling up in her eyes and running down her face.

When she was twenty years old and with no experience of being a mother, as frightening as that was, the adrenaline in her body was such that Lily vibrated with James afterwards, the two of them starting to think of names and discussing what that child would look like.

At nearly forty, Lily was entering a crisis. Raising a child was not easy, and the experience she had was twice as traumatic as that role normally requires. All the fear, the insecurity, the instability, came back to haunt Lily like a hungry snake with her being the rat, and heavens, she wanted so badly for James to be there with her so he could say the right words.

Or for him to cry with her.

Lily often blamed herself for everything that happened to Harry, and yes, she was fully aware that it wasn't her fault at all, but sometimes, when she was lying in bed at night and a nightmare would wake her, Lily would cry silently for feeling like an incompetent mother. She should have taken better care of him, protected him more, done something to get Harry out of this situation.

She didn't know if she could be a good mother to this child.

The role she was forced to accept when Harry was born was not a role you normally play; Lily struggled a lot more, had to hold her son in her arms for fear that at any minute someone would take him away from her more times than it should be allowed, and Merlin would help her, just thinking about the hunt made her eyes water and the sobs burned in her throat.

The mother she knew she was was a mother who was always afraid, and Lily didn't know if she could not be that anymore. She was still afraid when Harry didn't speak to them for more than two days, or when he went on an mission. Lily didn't say anything, of course, she would never interrupt her son's life out of a silly fear of her, but it tortured her slowly and sneakily, and she didn't know if she could fight it.

Apolo, who seemed to feel her pain, lay down on the table, his head resting on his paws as he looked at her with big clear green eyes, somehow, that silent affection generated in Lily a wave of love as if the animal had hugged her.

More tears fell, the untouched test lying on the table, the same way she'd placed it when she'd arrived from the drugstore.

Lily would need a lot more courage to pee on a stick than when she was only twenty years old and she still didn't know what death and fear really were...

Maybe when James got home from work.

Or tomorrow.

Maybe next week, maybe her period was just late because of the stress.

Yup. She would wait.

#Jily #Jily lives #My fic #James X Lily #James Potter #Lily Evans

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lire-casander · 1 year

Text

#14 always talking about their s/o in front of others

always talking about their s/o in front of others original prompt list here

"Asha! What a pleasant surprise!" Marjan greets her when she sees Paul's girlfriend arriving at the station. "Does Paul know or is this a surprise?"

"Definitely a surprise," Paul says as he wipes his hands and walks toward Asha to kiss her on the cheek. Marjan knows he's done so to avoid the catcalling, but she's not letting him get away with it, so she whistles anyway. "Marj! Stop it!"

"Ah, young love," Captain Strand pipes in, popping his head out of the kitchen space to wave at her. "Miss Asha, welcome to our humble abode. You've got perfect timing. We were about to start lunch."

"Oh, I know," Asha laughs. "Remember I've got inside information?"

Paul blushes but he accompanies her to the table, one hand on her waist the whole time. Already sat, they encounter Nancy, who's trying to cheer up a very sad-looking TK.

"I believe you remember Nancy and TK," Paul reminds her. "Guys, make room for our visit."

Nancy greets her warmly, standing up to shake her hand, and moves a few things on the table so that Asha can sit comfortably next to Paul. TK also stands up, shakes her hand a bit more formally, and sits down again. Asha exchanges a look with Paul, who shrugs, but she decides not to let it slide. Call it professional shaping.

"TK, you alright?" she asks.

"Yeah, I'm doing fine," TK replies, a little too curtly and distant from the man she met the first time she came to this firehouse.

"Are you ready?" Mateo announces as he steps in. "Today we're having a house special. Chili con carne!"

"Carlos loves chili con carne," TK sighs miserably.

"Carlos?" Asha whispers.

Paul shakes his head. "Carlos is TK’s fiancé. He's a police officer on a double shift because they were short-staffed this week."

"We're on hour seven of a twenty-four-hour shift," Nancy tells her, low enough for TK not to catch the words as he slowly stirs the food on his plate.

"That must be very sad, TK," Asha tells him. "Being away from your significant other for so long. But I bet it's not the first time."

"It's the first time since we got engaged," TK explains. "He's such a great man. Always wanting to help. He once got kidnapped because of that."

"He's been kidnapped?"

"Don't go there!" Judd warns her.

"Don't encourage him!" Paul exclaims. "We'll never hear the end of it!"

"Carlos usually sits where you're sitting," TK goes on. "Have I told you he's an amazing cop?"

Asha smiles warmly at him. "I bet he is a wonderful person."

"You should meet him sometime. You two would hit it off spectacularly. You coming to the wedding, right?"

Asha stares at TK blankly. She knew there was a wedding invitation in Paul's future, but she hadn't assumed she'd be his plus one. It had been bold to think so, back in the beginning; it's still bold, almost five weeks into their relationship. "Uhm," she stutters, unsure of what to say.

"Oh, I'm sorry," TK immediately tries to amend, under Paul's hard gaze that Asha chooses to ignore. "I didn't want to—"

"I wanted to ask you," Paul tells her. "I just thought you'd be, let's say, less than thrilled given how intense some people of my family in fire are."

"You sure?" When Paul nods, Asha beams at him. "Then yes, count me on it, TK!"

"I have to tell Carlos," TK says. "Have I told you how we kinda hit it off from the beginning and then I kept running but he was so patient?"

"I don't think so," she replies, trying to shove a spoon of chili in her mouth before TK speaks again.

The chorus of groans can be heard from outside the station as TK goes on another tirade about his fiancé who he misses so much despite the fact that they'll be seeing each other sooner rather than later.

#lire's 40 to the 40s #prompt 14 #prompt 14: always talking about their s/o in front of others #tarlos #tk strand/carlos reyes #carlos reyes/tk strand #judd ryder #asha fulton #paul strickland #mateo chavez #marjan marwani #owen strand #nancy gillian #911ls #911 ls #911 lone star

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ephrom · 2 years

Text

CarmenRider, Lolicon, And Pedophilia (Oh My)

Well, the drama between CarmenRider and SeptyPaws is basically over at this point. Septy released a three and a half hour video on the situation--specifically going after Carmen's commentary on the video they did with Neko Koda--and I even have my own segment in it.

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Septy wants the situation to be done, and I have no plans to keep it going. However, I also have some iron I want to strike while it's still hot. To be blunt, I was not a fan of CarmenRider to begin with, but after all of has been unfolded I think it's fair to say that Carmen is one of the worst people I've ever had the displeasure of dealing with. For that matter, the fact that she basically tried to frame much of her distaste of Koda and Septy as defending me is a special kind of disgusting that I am not going to forgive any time soon.

Say hello to your new recurring customer on this blog, folks--right next to Lily Orchard and some others I sadly have not had the ability to introduce to you.

For those who don't know, I also have a political blog on the website Medium. I mention this because back in January I wrote an article on the controversy around lolicon, and CamenRider was mentioned quite heavily.

In the article, I make the simple point that no other form of pornography is treated the same way Carmen treats lolicon. For example, 120 Days of Sodom is still considered sadistic pornography even though it's a novel--meaning no actual people were harmed in its writing.

I mention this because on 9/21/2022, CarmenRider had a recorded Discord call with Kumo on this very subject, where she kept denying that lolicon is child pornography.

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Most of her claims are utter nonsense. At one point she says without any evidence that age of consent was created to punish prostitutes (one would think laws against prostitution already served that purpose) before saying she just read it on Quora. She also constantly goes back and fourth between arguing if lolicon is child pornography, if lolicon is illegal, and if lolicon is immoral. At one point, she'll say that there's nothing pedophilic about lolicon--before saying that actual pedophiles can use lolicon as a harmless outlet for their sexual desires. In order for it to be an outlet for pedophilic urges, something about it would need to attract pedophiles.

If you want to know more about the lolicon debate, Asalieri made a video a couple of months ago going into the topic and debunking the four most common arguments made in favor of it.

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Asa mentions that the term "lolicon" comes from a shortening of the phrase "Lolita complex," but he doesn't go into detail about what that means. For those unaware, Lolita is a 1955 novel that shows a pedophilic relationship between Humbert Humbert and his kidnapped stepdaughter Dolores Haze. The term "Lolita" is so well known as a reference to sexual attraction towards young girls that Jeffery Epstein famously called his airplane "The Lolita Express." It should also be noted that the author of Lolita--Vladimir Nabokov-- based many of the examples of sexual abuse off of his own life.

It should also be noted that the novel never actually tries to show pedophilia in a positive light. Humbert is constantly viewed as nothing less than an amoral psychopath who no human being should have any sympathy for.

Carmen has a series of poor hypotheticals dedicated not so much to proving her point but really just to create as many artificial gray areas as humanly possible, here's me debunking one of them.

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Even the premise of her attempting to find a grey area is nothing but a strawman. Nobody is claiming that a person in their twenties who is attracted to a seventeen year old is a pedophile--although some might call them a creep or a pervert. Pedophilia is basically a fetish for children who have not yet gone through puberty. It is a combination of the term "pedo" which means pre-pubescent (as seen in words like "pediatrician) and "philia" which basically means an abnormal fetish (as seen in words like "necrophilia").

Many of these same fallacies can be found in her conversation with Mushroom Girl--you know, the one that ended in her saying this.

However, even checking the rest of the conversation shows Carmen made a number of utterly nonsensical arguments. For example, at one point she says that people who use lolicon as a harmless way to express their pedophilic attractions aren't pedophiles.

Personally, I don't consider these people pedophiles but rather people who realize they have a disorder and want to fix/mend that so they can function as normal humans.

Okay, and what's that disorder called exactly? If they aren't pedophiles, then why are they engaging in something in order to cope with pedophilic attractions? This is nothing more than obvious doublethink on the part of Carmen, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise.

#carmenrider #septypaws #neko koda #kumo #asalieri #vladimir nabokov #Youtube #mushroom girl

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Consolation || Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: you know it’s probably not great that you always turn to your best friend Bucky whenever you’re especially hurt by your husband. you know your husband should probably care that you spend so much time with him, but he doesn’t. which is good, in the end, because you two really are just friends… until you’re not.

word count: 4k

warnings: smut!, infidelity (see summary, reader is married), descriptions of failing/sexless marriage, angst, fluff, ~feelings~

You were good at hiding it— the real reason why you showed up at Bucky's apartment unexpectedly, that is.

It wasn’t entirely unexpected: you sent a text first, asking if he was down for a movie night, telling him you missed when you used to hang out more. He did, too, but he had always been afraid your husband would be an issue. Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem to trust Bucky entirely… certainly didn’t seem to love that you two were so close.

And who could blame him? A beautiful, sweet, smart girl like you… he understood why your husband didn’t want you hanging out with other guys when avoidable. I’ve told him a thousand times, you’re just a friend— you’re just Bucky, you would tell him when you were recounting arguments, explaining why it had been a while since you two had had a chance to catch up. But Bucky never told you that your husband was right to worry, that he had dreamed since he met you of being more than ‘just a friend,’ that he himself was the reason you two didn’t spend more time together: because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from confessing his feelings.

Because of course he would never make a move on his best friend— on a married woman. It would be so overwhelmingly inappropriate, such a colossal waste of time; and it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle just being your friend. Sure, it killed him a little bit sometimes, but it was worth it a million times over to be near you at all. He would take what he could get… and if that meant platonic movie night because you’d had another argument with your husband, then so be it.

“I stopped by the store on my way; heard your ice cream reserve was depleted,” you explained as you brandished the Ben & Jerry’s before slipping past him to put them in his freezer.

He watched you walk there, silently hating how comfortable you were in his apartment. He loved it, but he hated it, too.

“What are we watching?” you asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Uh, I dunno…”

“You were supposed to pick while I was driving over, genius,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“I narrowed it down to The Ring or You’ve Got Mail,” he decided suddenly.

You chuckled lightly and the sound lifted his spirits. “Okay, so, two drastically different evenings."

“I mean, if you think about it, they’re both about meeting new people through technology,” he corrected.

“Do VHS tapes count as technology?” you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“They do to me,” he shrugged.

With the ice cream supply exhausted and Bucky’s largest plastic bowl now containing only the unpopped kernels and little broken pieces of popcorn that didn’t make the cut, the third act of The Ring was beginning and you were spending more time covering your eyes than not.

“Let me know when the scary part is over,” you requested weakly from between the hands on your face.

“It’s a horror movie; the whole thing is one long scary part!” he laughed.

You peeked out through your fingers only to see another terrifying moment, yelping and hiding yourself in his chest.

He froze, not sure at all what to do with your face pressed against him; he held his breath in case the inflation of his chest would disturb you.

“I can’t look!” you whimpered, voice muffled by his shirt.

He lifted his hand in consideration of stroking your hair comfortingly, but ultimately decided against it and set it back down.

Thankfully, the movie was almost over and you wouldn’t stay cuddled up to him after it ended— meaning he’d finally be free from the glorious torture of your nearness.

But then the credits were rolling and you still didn’t budge, holding him tight. At first he thought you were just still scared, but then you took a slow, shaky breath… and he realized something was wrong with you, way beyond just a spooky movie.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, preparing to hear you explain what really happened with you and your husband that made you come here.

You just shook your head a little against his chest, making him sigh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he continued, and you hesitated before pulling back and sitting up straight again. As painful as it had been, he missed your touch already.

“Yes,” you answered, “but I shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“But I need to.”

“Okay.”

“But I can’t.”

“...okay…”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands— not from fear this time, but exasperation. “I told myself that if it ever got to this point, I’d tell someone. But now I… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed.

"He doesn't… we don't…” you started and stopped a few times. “God, Buck, I can't even say it…"

"You don't have to—" he began to tell you, but you said it anyway, tearing your hands away from your face and looking back at him sternly.

"He hasn't touched me in months. And today marks an entire year since the last time I had sex."

He tried not to choke when he heard that. He figured you were just going to say that he was texting a female coworker too much or flip-flopping about if he wanted kids or not. This was something else entirely. "Oh… um, wow."

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure where to start. In spite of all his obliviousness, he was pretty sure he should say something, he just didn’t know what. “And he… he knows that you… want that? I mean, you’ve like… tried to, you know… initiate things, right?” He cringed at his own voice, and stupid question.

You laughed a little, in a sad way. "I've begged him for it, fuck, it's so humiliating. It doesn't even work. He's always too tired, not in the mood, busy with something. And of course I want to respect him and not pressure him into anything but at the same time, I feel so fucking unlovable— so hideous."

"You're not hideous,” he said firmly, more sure of that than anything else he’d said so far.

“I try to believe that, really,” you mitigated, “I try not to take it personally— but fuck, it feels personal. Do you know how often people talk about sex? It’s like society has this idea that men just wanna bang twenty-four hours a day and the only thing stopping them is women being prudes. Do you know what it’s like to hear people talk like that when your husband rejects you every night? Do you know how it feels to hear your girlfriends complaining about how their boyfriends are pestering them for sex too often, and you’re just sitting there screaming inside your head ‘at least he wants you’? Bucky, you can’t even imagine…”

“I can’t,” he agreed.

"It's been so long…” you sighed shakily, collecting yourself before you started again. “It's been so long since somebody touched me. I wondered if I would forget what it felt like."

His hand shook a little as he reached out with his flesh hand and brushed it against your arm, staring into your watery eyes and finding less fear there than he expected, thankfully.

"Did you forget?" he asked softly.

"I must have," you mumbled, "it feels better than I remembered."

The heartbreak in your voice made anger bubble up in his chest, amazed at how your husband ever allowed this to happen; ever allowed you to become so touch-starved that even just a brush on your arm made you emotional. "I can't imagine being with you every day and not wanting to touch you whenever I could get the chance,” he admitted. “I can't imagine being your husband and not making love to you every day, every hour, whenever you wanted; whenever you'd let me. I can't imagine having you beg me for something and not giving it to you— I'd give you everything."

He had to fight a gasp as you suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss, a bit sudden at first but melting into something gentle and patient and soft.

“Then do it,” you whispered as you finally pulled back; he could barely think straight to even process what you were saying. “Give me everything.”

He nodded a little before he kissed you again, rough but deep and slow. His hands roamed your body like he'd wished to for so long; his tongue slid against yours and the taste of you drove him wild.

As hard as it was to break from your lips, he moved his kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking at your pulse as you groaned and clutched at his shoulders through his shirt.

"Fuck," you whispered under your breath, and he must've heard you swear a million times but this time it sounded so different.

His cock was straining against his jeans already, just from this— it was like he was a fucking teenager again, but to be fair, you'd always had that effect on him: sweaty palms, stammering, sudden boners. It was like lifelong puberty with you around.

When his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, just barely brushing over the skin right above your sweats, you pulled back briefly to pull your shirt off over your head. He thought it might be awkward if he just stood there gawking at your chest, so he only allowed himself a moment of it before he got back to work holding you tight and kissing your collarbones.

He pulled you closer and you must've felt his cock pressed against you because you gasped a little. And you must've liked it, because your hand slipped down and rubbed him through the front of his jeans, making him choke on nothing.

“S’big,” you mumbled, and he grinned a little.

“Feel what you do to me?” he asked softly, and you nodded a little before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand down your body and into the waistband of your pants. He shuddered when he felt how warm your skin was, the lacy fabric of your panties, the slick folds you guided his fingers through.

“Feel what you do to me?” you shot back, but your cockiness faded when he circled his middle finger over your swollen bud. He loved the way your body reacted so easily, subtle little gasps and shivers, your hips jolting forward for more stimulation. You both moaned when he pushed a finger into your channel, your walls already pulsing around him.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You whispered your approval and he twisted the finger inside you. Even just that made you let out a heavy breath, your hands reaching down to grip his wrist— they didn’t push him away, thankfully, just reminded him to be gentle with you as he added the second finger, pushing a bit deeper than before.

“More,” you whimpered your plea, “I want more.”

For a second he thought you meant more fingers, but then you opened your eyes and gave him a look… that look.

It made it abundantly clear that fingers weren’t going to be enough. After all, you had asked him to give you everything. So he gladly obliged when you started to tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. You lifted your hips to let him pull down your sweats, not giving him much time to drink in the sight of you before you started opening his fly for him.

Being undressed by you made his heart race; the way you rushed, like you couldn’t wait a moment longer to have him, was flattering yet relatable.

You sighed when you got his cock out, instantly wrapping your hand around his shaft and stroking. He shuddered at the softness of your hands, at your gentle but persistent exploration. Clearly it had been a while since you’d gotten the chance to interact with a dick, but it didn’t show in any lack of skill— if anything it just made you more eager, your grip firm but your touches gentle. He kissed you again, holding your face in one hand and leaning you back with the other until you were laid on the couch and he was hovering over you.

He guided your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own as he guided the weeping head over your slick folds, smiling at your gasp when he bumped against your clit.

“Do you want this?” he asked, fully prepared for you to back out now before you did something you really couldn’t take back.

“Yes.” Your answer was more confident than he was expecting, but he still couldn’t really believe it. It was just too good to be true. So he had to check again.

“...are you sure?”

"Don't make me beg, Bucky," you whimpered, "I've done it enough, I can't do it again. Just make love to me— I need you inside me, please…"

Your head fell back as he pushed into you, your nails digging into his shoulders until he stopped from fear of hurting you (even though it took more willpower than he knew he had).

"Don't stop," you whined, "need to feel all of you, Bucky, please please don't stop—"

He definitely didn't have enough willpower to resist that. Slamming into you all at once, he hissed as you cried out, baring his teeth at the sight of you quivering and moaning beneath him.

"I— I need a second," you explained, voice tight with ill-concealed pain, "it's been a while.”

"I can wait," he nodded, "I won't move until you're ready."

He could tell you were struggling, because how could you not be when you felt so fucking tight around him? He guided you to breathe slowly with him, feeling your body relax slightly and noticing the way your face untwisted as you became more comfortable.

You nodded a little, but he needed to hear you say it. "Fuck me," you whispered.

And he did.

He still kept his pace measured and relaxed, savoring every inch of you— savoring your reactions to every inch of him.

But watching your face was going to push him towards the edge too fast, and he wanted to make this last if possible, so he leaned down to suck on your neck, thoroughly tasting your skin as you moaned and writhed beneath him. It felt incredible to surround your body with his, to cage you in and pin you down with his weight— it made him feel like he could protect you, keep you safe, even though he knew he couldn’t save you from heartache as much as he wanted to.

If you wanted someone to touch you, to give you affection, to make love to you and make you feel loved, then you’d come to the right place. That came to him naturally; the hard part was going to be letting you go, letting this be the one-time favor for a friend that he already knew it was.

“You feel so good,” he found himself whispering against your skin, just beside your ear, “so good for me.”

The praise must have had a strong effect on you, because your walls tightened around him suddenly.

“So perfect,” he continued, wanting to feel it again, “my perfect girl.” And you weren’t his girl, but maybe he could pretend you were; you certainly seemed to enjoy pretending, with the way your moans egged him on. “God, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock.”

“Bucky,” you whined, arching your back, and he grinned because it was obvious that you responded even better to dirty talk than praise.

“You like that, huh? You like makin’ me feel good?” he pressed, laughing a little when you nodded feverishly. “Fuck, such a good girl… takin’ me so good, so fuckin’ deep…”

You grabbed him by his hair to make him kiss you again, hungry lips smashing against his.

Inspired by your passion but afraid of what he’d do with all of this control, he wrapped his arms around you and hoisted you up until he was sitting while you straddled him, looking up at you with a grin. "Ride me, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it," he instructed lowly. The way you rocked your hips and threw your head back was everything he'd dreamed it would be, increased exponentially. Of course, he'd never told anyone that he dreamed about that, but he'd also never thought it could ever come true. He ran his hands over every part of you he could reach, just to make sure it was real; just to make sure he memorized the feel of you while he could.

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple, sucking gently and smirking a little when you moaned loudly. “You’re sensitive here,” he noted aloud, kissing his way to the other nipple but still teasing the first with his metal fingers.

Your moans came faster and louder, your fingers combing through his hair and pulling seemingly unintentionally. He noticed that you let your eyes fall shut, your head crane back, and although he was glad that it was a sign of pleasure, he wanted to see you; he wanted you to see him, know that it was him making you feel this way. so, he reached up and cupped your face in his hand, cradling your cheek, pulling you closer to look at him, staring into your eyes— and he knew it wasn't a subtle move, wasn't believable as a guy just helping out a friend, but he didn't care anymore. When he kissed you again, it almost felt like you meant it, too; like you wanted him first, and not just as a consolation prize.

But you pulled back a little too soon, a reminder to both of you that this couldn’t be anything more than what it was.

Your hips gyrated faster and more vigorously, his hands gripping you tight and guiding your movements while you sighed and bit your lip. You looked so indescribably good when you were immersed in pleasure like this, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly for balance, your chest swelling and deflating with quick breaths.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered below his breath as his hand softly trailed from your collarbone down to your thigh. The sounds you made were constantly changing, a little more high-pitched and needy now as you rode him faster. He was already picking up on the little signs that you were getting closer: your thighs flexing where they were straddled beside his own, how your body jolted and shivered in his grasp, your eyes wrenched shut and your skin breaking out into goosebumps.

Already he knew your body so well, but he knew there was so much more he would never get the chance to discover. For now, he’d just have to settle for a preview of all the perfect little ways you fell apart.

And, in the interest of speeding that process up a bit, he reached down to where your bodies were joined and circled a thumb over your clit.

“Fuck!” you yelped, your inner muscles bearing down on him out of nowhere until he was forced to groan from your tightness.

“You close?” he stammered out, way less confident than he meant it to be. He should’ve said something cool like ‘I know you’re close’ or ‘aw, baby, does that feel good?’ but no, he was too far gone and gave his own desperation away.

"Yes, baby, I'm so close," you sighed, "I'm gonna come— you're gonna make me come."

You said it with a hint of shock in your voice, like you could barely believe it. He couldn't believe it, either, because it was surely too good to be true.

"Come for me," he instructed firmly, pulling you closer until his nose brushed against yours, "say my name when I make you come."

It was unfair, but he needed to pretend you were his for just a moment. Only his.

"Bucky," you whimpered shakily. Your walls tightened around him so perfectly, over and over, until it took everything in him not to bust right then. "Bucky, I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming—"

"I know," he whispered, "I know, pretty girl, keep going."

Your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even notice the pain when he was watching your face as you came— it was tight and twisted at first, before falling into a gasp and a moan that made his heart swell along with his cock that painted your walls the absolute second he knew you’d come. It was intense, not just from holding back for so long, but from knowing he was coming inside you.

He sighed and started to catch his breath as you slumped forward and buried your face in the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, the warmth of your body nearly overwhelming now as he felt little aftershocks ripple through your channel around where he was still within you.

"Thank you," you whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it. But he did, and he nodded a little as he rested his face against yours, stroking your hair gently. You held each other in silence for a long time, so long that when your breathing slowed down significantly and he could feel your body relax entirely, he realized you had fallen asleep.

Carefully, he held you tighter so he could stand up and carry you to his bedroom, your body instinctively wrapping around him like a koala… like even in your sleep, you could act all adorable and break his heart just that much more.

He did his best to tread quietly and gently, laying you down onto the bed and only then pulling his softened cock out of you, finding his discarded boxers to put back on before joining you between the sheets.

He knew you would be gone in the morning but he indulged himself in holding you tonight, breathing your scent and pressing your back against his chest. He didn't want to fall asleep because he didn't want to miss a second of your body wrapped in his, but it was impossible not to with the soft pace of your breathing almost rocking him to sleep like a beautiful lullaby.

Where there was warmth and peace before, he awoke to cold and emptiness— both between his sheets and in himself.

It’s not like he really expected you to stay, and even if you had it wouldn’t mean that you would leave your husband for your best friend, that this would have ever been anything more than a glimpse of what could’ve been in another life or another universe.

He could still smell you, barely, and he buried his face in the sheets to take it all in before it faded away. When it was gone, he pulled back only to find a wet patch of his tears there instead.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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bonnymori · 3 years

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

Word count: 2760+ (i'll try to keep bigger lengths such as this one!)

Synopsis: You meet a new classmate who's working along Nanami, you think he's fun to be around, it stands the same to him about you. Later, feelings unravel.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Itadori Yuuji x gn!reader (2) FLUFF, TONS OF FLUFF - and some comfort (3) With the small participation of... Ino Takuma!! I really like him too, that's why <33333 (4) This is pretty platonic, but also not? (5) Ending turned sorta cliché... but I liked it u.u

A/N: This boy made me run rampant... to fhe point it's not single attraction anymore I just wish him happiness (smh if only my parents knew...) also next post will be Toji's fic pt. 2! Y'all see the first part is almost reaching 100 kudos????? I'M SO HAPPY EHSODJWKDKSJD- thanks for all the new followers and the support!! <33

Ever since his fake death, Itadori has been training alone with the help of Gojo - and now, he works along a freshly new face, who belongs to a senior, founds out ex-salaryman named Nanami Kento. He's far a thousand times more strict than Gojo. Itadori doesn't really likes the change, because Nanami is a person he can't get along. This whole guy's appearance scream "work 4 life"; he has proved different, now he screams "work is shit - but I gotta do it because others won't".

They've just finished cleansing the outside of a movie theater off a few curses, when Itadori hears shouting from far behind them. Two figures approach, waving excessively. He quickly picks on Nanami's tired sigh beside him.

"Nanami! We figured out you'd be here! Our mission has been finished and we wanted to catch up to have lunch together!" A male clad in a full black outfit shouts, he has brown hair and a beanie on top of his head, looking quite content.

The other person simply trots next to him in silence, approaching with a friendly smile. They notice Itadori faster than the male, smile widening and quickly waving hello, suddenly eager to reach up to them. The gesture makes the pink haired boy perk up, curious to why the other person looked so joyful. His question is easily answered, when they tug on the man's sleeve and motion to him.

"Ino, we have a third buddy!" The dude looks at him with widened eyes. "So nice to meet you, I'm Y/N L/N! It's great to see new faces around!"

Itadori smiles at your energy, knowing already he would click with you very well.

"I'm Ino Takuma, sorry for not noticing you before! Your uniform looks cool." Itadori exchanges a few compliments with Ino, before the man turns to talk with Nanami, leaving him and you together.

"Yes! I'm Sukuna's vessel, Itadori Yuuji-desu! My type of woman is Jenn-"

You turn to him. "So, are you a first year?"

"Geh? Weren't you dead though?!"

"I was!- I am!- Please keep secret."

"Okay!"

"Ahem." Nanami coughs, drawing attention. "I requested you two to not come after me today. Itadori here is the reason why."

"That's no problem, we're very capable of keeping secrets." You threw your arm over Itadori's shoulder, him nodding along with you.

"Oh really, then remember to keep quiet about it. I'll let this slide." The group of students nervously at Nanami's intimidating tone. "But, I'll get to have my break alone."

"Gah!" Ino exclaimed, watching Nanami walk away; he also left the responsability of taking care of Itadori for you two, leaving without a word. "It really had to be today, when Nanami would take us to his favorite bakery..."

"Crybaby." You teased. "Itadori here can't go outside where anyone can see him, he's dead. So, we were to order food either way because he shouldn't be left out."

"Augh okay, it would be unfair."

"So, where are you staying Itadori?"

"At Gojo's state!"

"Whoa, I've never been there before." Ino commented, waiting as you sent a message to Ijichi to pick them up.

"He's my teacher, a very cool one!"

"I imagine! Ooookay, once we get there I'll get the food."

Itadori felt as his chest would burst of excitement, finally there was people around him again, he couldn't be less happy about it.

"Sharing is caring!"

Itadori laughed as you wrestled with Takuma for some fries, netflix long forgotten in the background, as watching the banter was way more entertaining. Most of the time, Ino rambled a lot about Nanami, while he rambled a lot about Gojo. The guy even showed him the cool scar under his beanie. He felt kinda upset after explaining the exchange was just temporary, his stay under Nanami's wing wasn't decisive, and therefore, he was more like a classmate than a partner.

Itadori also learned a lot about you. He was surprised to find out that you, although energetic, was the one to speak the lesser in conversations. His surprisement grew even bigger when you told him you're a exchange student from Kyoto, arriving Tokyo about the same month as him - thankfully, you were to say for good.

Conversations flowed easily in the air, until a voice from the doorway barged in.

"Yuuji-kun! Don't forget about your lessons! Hi kids! Bye kids!" Gojo said playfully, throwing the familiar punching bear to Itadori before leaving.

"What's this thing?" Ino asked.

"It's to help me control my cursed energy. So while I watch the movies, if I don't charge it with cursed energy it punches me square in the face. I thought I had mastered this thing already, but he insist I keep training with it." Itadori grumbles.

"At least it's cute." You commented, taking a sip of your drink.

"Until it punches you in your face without warning!" The pink haired boy barks.

The talks died down, the three of you eating quietly when another movie is played on the screen. Itadori didn't bother reading the title, it was a plain one about a zombie apocalypse that got him extremely bored, yet he kept watching still so the plushie didn't punch him in the face again; he's been keeping a record since all his last cursed energy training lessons were a sucess to this day. When his head started nodding and eyelids dropping Itadori can't remember well, about fourty five minutes of movie perhaps? Make it fifty, the second slumber took over his body completely.

When he awoke once again, it was near midnight, the clock on the wall told him so. He also noticed a soft and warm surface supporting his head, figures, it's your shoulder he's resting into, he feels an arm around his own shoulders and your cheek placed upon his hair.

"Hey, it's late." You immediately notices he's awake, calling out softly. "You should sleep on your room, or something, better to your spine."

He chuckles when you poke his side. "But I'm comfortable here."

"I'm surprised, you just met me today, and now is sleeping on my shoulder."

"I'm not, that happens often to me."

"Sleeping on people's shoulders?"

"No! Making friends quickly." Itadori likes your gentle warmth, your hug, everything makes him feel at home. "I met two more people before you for two weeks, but they can't see me, because I'm dead."

"So I'll keep you company, that's my new mission."

His eyes widen at that, a oh so little blush covering the tip of his ears.

"For how many time I slept anyway?" He asks.

"About two- no, three hours. You missed two movies, and this one is about to end."

"And you stayed here the whole time?" He motions to your shoulder.

"Yep. That reminds me I gotta pee."

Itadori grumbles, but quickly lifts himself off you, respecting your needs. That gives him some time to look around, he notices Ino is gone, and the plushie sits quietly at the other side of the couch, unmoving.

"Y/N! How did you manage to make it quiet down?" He's beyond bafflet.

"...que."

"What!"

"I said!" You arrive quickly at the doorframe, hands still wet from when you washed them. "I used my innate technique."

"Oh! How is it like?"

"It's kinda funny, gimme a moment." You left to wipe off your hands, coming back in a second. "So, just like Shoko, I produce reverse curse energy, but it's quite different than hers, I can't heal people. That's why we often call it positive energy instead. I can use it to soothe off negative energy, so the bear has no cursed energy right now."

"How does it works on people?" He felt very curious about everything, asking away like a kid.

"Since everyone has negative energy, it just makes you sleepy really. But when it comes to curses it's really practical, I can either weaken it or, if the curse is like grade three or four, I can slap them off existence completely by wiping all their energy." You were naturally proud of having a such versatile power, your own energy swirling with pride around you.

"That sounds amazing! Is it why I fell asleep though?"

"Nah, only if I did it on purpose. I guess you were just tired, hope you don't mind I decided to let you rest today."

"No way, it was a good nap."

You nodded. "By the way, Ino left to attend to a drinking party, he paid for our food."

"Drinking? Is he old?"

"Yeah, he's twenty." You chuckled, already expecting that kind of reaction.

"No way! He looks young just like us!"

"That's totally my reaction after I learned he's twenty!"

After that day, you started visiting Itadori weekly to daily, after exchanging numbers he made a little group with you and Ino, naming it the "Nanami trio". But really, he exchanges more texts with you in private, be them memes, cool images he wish to share, etcetera. Although, Ino wasn't left excluded, he ofter brough his xbox to connect to Itadori's tv room and you all would spend hours playing together; he just didn't spend much time with both of you as much. And that was okay.

For a few days, your connection with Itadori died down when he didn't reply to your texts. They would remain unread for some time, the longest being half a day, until he would spam apologies then move on with the topic. That became a routine until one day when you came over to check on Itadori unnanounced, needin to ease off your worries about the boy, only to find him sobbing in the middle of a hallway, staring ahead and beyond, his back to you.

"Ita-?"

"Egh!" Startled, he scrambled to wipe his eyes, turning to you. "H-hey, um, hi."

"What happened?"

"I- he-" His eyes didn't met yours, knuckles white in a death grip. You notice he has a few bandages thrown over his face and arms. The way his shoulders are drawn, as if he wants to shrink into himself is something you've experienced before.

"Something hard to talk about?"

He nods almost immediately, head still facing down.

"It's alright, come with me." You reach for his hands, grimacing slightly when his forceful grip is now on your hand, yet you don't comment on it. He follows you through the state wordlessly.

You two stop on the same tv room, sitting down on the couch. You then guide his head to your shoulder, gently massaging his scalp with the free hand.

"It's alright."

Those two words are chanted like a prayer for the next half hour, at some point, Itadori twisted his body towards yours and unknowingly caged you between him and the sofa arm. He embraced you with a force you didn't have in you, like he didn't want to lose one another. Painful or not, not a muscle moved on your body. He needed a shoulder to cry on.

Thirty minutes passed like seconds, you peered down only to find the boy confortably napping against your bosom; at some point you just became the cold side of the pillow to him. That's alright. It brings you joy to be the mom friend anyways. So you decided to join the sleepland aswell, arms still secured around his shoulders and the back of his head.

It feels like the nap hasn't been long, though, because you can feel Itadori's grip loosening and therefore, you're awake.

"Sorry if I broke any bones, in advance."

"Wow, and you only warn me now."

He laughs at your comeback, hands still secured around your waist.

"I'm surprised you let me uh, cuddle you for comfort - and sleep. I don't understand it? You just make me sleepy." He rambled, keeping eye contact with you while his head still rests on your chest.

"That's a piece of cake when you have younger siblings who seek for you every night they get a nightmare."

"Does that mean I can come to you again if I have a nightmare?" There it is, his togepi-kirby cutesy face.

"Are you four?"

"That's mean!" Itadori blushed, squeezing you on his arms. "I like the contact. It puts me at ease."

"Mm, do you want to talk about it?"

He gulped. "No, not really."

Your peach haired friend remained silent, and so did you. It seems he doesn't intend in letting you go soon, or he just really forgot to mention it. It gives them time to think, your younger sisted used to do that sometimes, back in Kyoto.

"Y/N, wanna watch anything?"

"Sure, have you watched Parasyte before?"

"No, let's give it a try then!" Itadori glances at the remote, then back at you - making you confused over his hesitation to move. He notices you noticed it, chuckling nervously. "To be honest, I don't wanna let go."

"It's hurting my back."

"SORRY I'M SORRY!" He jumped away from you like a cat would jolt away from a cucumber, making you snicker.

"It's okay, I just wanted to change positions."

And to tease you, but he didn't need to know that part.

He glared at you with a small pout, typing the initials of Parasyte on the search bar. Outside his line of vision, you were grinning like a idiot, his sweeteness took a tow on you. All the people of Tokyo you met really held a way different spirit from your classmates in Kyoto, Itadori being the nicest of all. It's surprising him being Sukuna's vessel to begin with; being honest, you felt drawn by it.

"Y/N, it's startiiiiing." He cut your daydreaming short, slumping on your side and propping his head on your shoulder.

"This again?" You throw an arm around his shoulders, very much like the first time he cuddled himself on you.

"Don't blame me, you're the one who wanted to change positions. Guess I'll just make some alterations since I'm awake this time!" One of his arms went behind your back and circled your waist, hand resting at your hip.

"It's definely different, since the other time you drooled on me."

"Hhgh, okay okay! Let me enjoy this." For perhaps the actual first time, you're able to watch without exchanging words with one another.

And this time, it's you who's head loll to the side, nose buried on his soft rose perfumed hair. Itadori doesn't comment on it yet, his free hand moves under your legs to lift your whole body up efortlessly when he senses you have fallen asleep.

"I remember you said it's bad for my spine, I wouldn't mind it... yours however."

The boy makes a beeline to the guest room, he sighs when there is no choice but open the door with his foot. Inside, he places you carefully in the soft bed.

Before he could leave, a hand reaches up for his sleeve.

"Itadori," He turned, looking at you. "Make me company?"

He giggles softly - you think it sounds like a highschool girl. "You should start calling me by my first name!" Itadori rambles as he climbs on the bed, arms wrapping around your waist in a motion you're familiar with.

"Yuuji, I'm tired, let me sleep."

"But I wanna talk more..." He pouts. "Also, are we, um, dating?"

You wriggle around, bringing his head down to peck on his forehead, teasing. "Correction, I want to date you."

"Uh, oh." A blush coats his face so quickly, you'd say someone dumped a bucket of red paint on his face.

"Is that a no?"

"No!"

"So it is a no."

"Christ, will you stop teasing for a second, I'm trying to talk here." He makes an angry version of his togepi-kirby face, you can't help but grin.

"You amuse me, but okay. I'll do it for you."

"Thanks." He blinks, the blush slowly fading away. "You know, I lied, not about the contact, I like the contact nonetheless-"

His hand moves to play with yours, such as tapping his tips against yours, or meassuring the palms.

"-it's you who brings me comfort."

It's also your turn to blush, that line was seriously charming.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, we're dating now." You respond, a little eagerly. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

This is the best person I could ask for, Itadori thinks, keeping his eyes open as yours shut during the kiss, whom I won't change for anything else in this world.

When you both separate, Itadori feels drowsy and sleepy. His face fits perfectly on your shoulder as always.

"Goodnight, my favorite person."

#itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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ilove-cedricdiggory · 3 years

Text

Moony

Remus x Reader

Part 2

Summary - After you left Remus after telling him about your pregnancy, you're now trying to juggle being pregnant by yourself in a foreign country, along with your three best friends searching for you.

Trigger Warning - Cursing, mentions of abortion, angst, it's longish? I think that's all. Let me know if there's more though.

Italics are letters, Bold is unknown to the readers.

America.

That's the only way you can really describe it. It is, well, America. Some places are incredibly beautiful, some terribly ugly. Some incredibly cold, some unbearably hot. Some busier than Diagon Alley on the day all the kids come to buy their things, some slower than a virgin's bedroom.

You hadn't seen much, especially seeing as how you had only been there for a week, but it was already more than you expected. You expected a stern talking to, you expected a bed rest, you expected a midwife in every thirty minutes, and you definitely expected to have someone at your side every second of the day. But, that wasn't what you got.

Especially seeing as how, your Great Grandpa kicked the rest of your family out of the house before you arrived, not wanting his favorite grandkid to be in an uncomfortable home, especially while she was growing his two great, great grandkids.

He was incredibly wealthy, a pure blood from England gone American. You had been the only one that actively spoke to him and visited him as often as you could while he lived in England. Now, your family was watching the sand fall in his hourglass to see who got the most money from his will. Honestly, though, you could see the man living another 200 years - just to spite them all.

He had taken you out, shown you incredible things, although you were stuck in a stupid state of unbearable heat - Texas. Although, the heat had taken you out of the sweaters that had you crying every time you got a whiff of his scent, and into some beautiful maternity sun dresses. You had already sent 20 pictures to Molly.

You had yet to write to Lily though, but her owls came twice a day, at least. You were starting to worry that she would get on James' broom and follow the owl herself to find you. Her letters really all stayed the same.

Y/n, just tell me where you are. I won't tell Remus, or Sirius. Heck, I won't even tell James. Harry and I will come visit and I'll tell you all about how I beat Remus' arse. Or how James did....Or how Sirius did. But, please, just write me back. I love you. I miss you incredibly.

Then you had

Y/n, come on, you really have me worried. The entire order has heard about what happened and I think they're all freaking out each second like we are. We miss you. You're the ray of Hufflepuff joy we all need, the always Ravenclaw intelligence the boys really need, the absolute Gryffindor bravery in the craziest of situations that the order needs, and the Slytherin strength I need. Please, just write back.

Then, she got help from the boys - or, the ones you would be open to hear from.

Y/n, while I have to be honest, Lily is standing over my shoulder watching me write this, I was going to do it either way. Remus was an absolute arse, I understand that, but we miss you. Lily, Harry and I want nothing more than for you to be home, with us even. You don't have to see him, you really don't. We just want to be here for you through this time, the good and the bad. Please write back.

When that didn't work, you had a howler from Sirius.

Y/n Y/l/n, I swear, if you don't write me back, I'm gonna jump into the paper and send myself! I'm going absolutely crazy watching Lily freak out every day! You're the only one that can calm her, not even James is doing it! You're taking away my precious James time! I fucking miss you - okay? Moony is an absolute dick. He deserved you walking out on him, he really did, but please don't walk out on all of us too. Y/n, we miss you, we really do. Moony isn't even here anymore, he left after we all went to Molly's - Sirius, don't tell her that! - Shit, fuck, how do I scratch that? Uhhh, I didn't say that. Erase! Erase! Lily, how do I erase on a howler? Fuck. Whatever. I'm sure it erased. But, come home. I'll make James make you that surprisingly good chicken he makes and I'm sure Lily would love to give you some old baby momma clothes or whatever the fuck they're called. I just - we just - no, I miss you, okay? Come home.

Your heart broke, not just because Remus was missing, but because your friends were hurt.

You sat down at the table in your guest house, sighing softly. A quill and some parchment sat before you, your hand shaking as you dipped it into the ink.

Lily, James, and Sirius.

While I know I could write a letter to each of you separately, I'm almost positive you're all together, or you're gonna call each other as soon as you get my letter.

I'm okay, I think. Not as okay as I wish I was, I cry a lot. While I wish I could blame it on the hormones, I know it's not. Everything reminds me of him, even here. No, I'm not in England, I'm in the states. I'm staying with some family and I think it's doing me well. At least, I've started to own my pregnancy.

After what Remus said to me, my body broke. I just about hated the fact that I was pregnant. Not my kids, just that I was pregnant. But, with each day, I realize that this pregnancy is the thing I needed most. While I wish I didn't have to say this - it showed me the man Remus is. Does that mean I cry any less? Of course not - you guys know me.

But, I really don't think I can come home, at least not yet. I'm still trying to figure out what I'm to do. I love Remus with every fiber of my being, but how do you love a man that told you to get rid of your own children, the minute he gets home from a mission he could have died from? How do you let him hold you as he feels the two children you both created grow in your belly knowing he hates them?

I'm going to come home eventually, of course I am. And I already promised Molly I'll be back for a visit soon, and you guys are more than welcome to come visit once I teach my family how to properly floo in America - did you know they don't do that here? It's super weird. But, I love you three incredibly. I'm so sorry this has happened. Be safe.

Your heart broke as you debated on writing more, about what your heart was still set on. Remus. Where was he? Where did he go? Had they heard from him? Was he looking for you? But you couldn't bring yourself to ask them.

The owl was sent with their letter, leaving you in the silence once more.

How could you feel so absolutely alone when you had people wanting nothing more than to be with you? Is it what you thought you deserved? They were his friends before they were yours. You felt horrible that they were taking your side. You felt your heart ripping slowly with each beat it made in it's spot in your being. It was like one half of your heart was tied to Remus' and with each beat away from him, it tore you apart - slowly, filling you with excruciating pain.

Five minutes after the letter was sent, you were standing, trying to find a way to busy your mind.

Ten minutes after the letter was sent, you were crouching in the corner, the weight of your predicament pressing down on you so hard, it's like it formed hands and was set on pushing you six feet under without any hole dug for your body.

Twenty minutes after the letter was sent, your body was shaking with it's sobs once more, the loss of not only your spouse, but also the friends you loved almost as much as him.

An hour later, you had fallen asleep on the floor, your mind groggy and your heart tearing with each beat, your conscious hoping to pull you away from the pain your felt in the body that was supposed to be yours - but belonged to the man who seemed to not want you anymore.

It was dark, so incredibly dark. The only thing that was seen was the moon, halfway full in it's wake. The only thing heard was the pads of feet stomping on the ground as they ran. Ran where? Ran why? You could feel the pain in your chest, but it was like it wasn't your own. As you came to a stop, you looked at a building that seemed a familiar kind of unfamiliar - although that didn't really make much sense to you.

Before you realized it, you were slumped over the toilet, letting out the contents of your stomach. One of your hands pulled your hair to one side of your shoulder, keeping it there. But all you could think was how badly you wish it was Remus holding your hair, rubbing your back as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

But all that mattered today was to get through it, like any other day.

One day following the motions.

Two days following the motions.

Three, four, five days.

Until your hands were pulled from your face, the skin around your fingers almost chewed to nothing, the warm face of Lily standing before you.

"If I see you bite your fingers one more time, I'm going to hex them to taste like Harry's dirty diapers." She spoke, pulling you up from your spot on the couch.

"Lily - I." You stopped, looking around her to see James, Sirius, and Harry. "How?" You asked, looking back into the eyes of your best friend.

"Your great grandpa is super cool. I think he was getting tired of all the letters we were sending him too and gave us the floo network here to knock you out of whatever it is you're in." Sirius spoke, Harry on his shoulders, pulling at his hair.

"You guys-" You were cut off with Lily pulling you into her hold, her larger belly pressed against yours as you both attempted to properly hug one another.

"I have missed you, so much" Her voice was soft, uncommon for Lily. Her hands held you tightly, almost like she was holding onto you to make sure you didn't disappear once more.

"Come on Lils, other people missed her too." Sirius spoke to cause her to pull away and glare at the man. "If you weren't holding onto my kid, I'd have hexed you so hard for that." She said, moving to grab Harry from his shoulders as James wrapped you up in a hug himself.

"If we hadn't seen you for another day, I think Lily was going to fly off on my broom." He said, causing you to laugh at your own prediction.

You finally got to Sirius, his arms holding you tighter than the two. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, his hold growing tighter. "What are you sorry for, Siri?" You asked him, pulling away to look into his face.

"What he said, what he did. That's not what you deserved." He mumbled, pushing your hair back a bit. "I swear, I about pounded his face in at Molly's. I think Arthur had to separate me magically." He trailed off, looking at the floor.

His words brought tears to your eyes once more, your heart feeling empty, yet full. "That's not your fault, Sirius. We all knew he didn't want kids, but we weren't careful. I don't know why his reaction surprised me." You were honest with them, having thought this entire thing was truly your fault.

The three of them surrounded you, their eyes narrow with intent. "Y/n, the last thing this is, is your fault. You're his fiancée, not a random person. Either way, those are his kids. He shouldn't have treated you like he did." James spoke with meaning, wanting you to understand each word he spoke.

Somehow, the four of you relaxed enough to find yourself growing to bed. You showed Sirius his room, a place where James and Lily can lay Harry, and then their own room, before finding your way to your own.

You laid in bed, wide awake. You knew what tonight was, the night before the full moon, and knew that Remus was probably out wherever he was, already in pain. Every turn was different, it truly was, but each night before the full moon, his body ached, his bones almost softened, knowing they would be breaking and turning in 24 hours, and his head psyched him out, especially when you weren't there. This was now the third full moon your financé was to handle without you.

You refused to cry, knowing Lily always had a third sense to that stuff, and willed yourself to sleep. But, you laid there.

And laid there.

And laid there some more, until you couldn't handle the quiet, and found yourself moving out of the room and towards Sirius'.

You had slept with Sirius before, each time when Remus was gone and your heart could hardly handle it. Now, the three hearts inside of you couldn't stand the guilt of not being with him.

The door didn't creak when you opened it, none of the floor boards made a sound, but that somehow made it worse. Your feet carried you to the dark haired man, seeing his sleeping frame move, sensing another person there.

His eyes jerked open, coming to look at you as he smiled sadly. "How did I know you'd come in here. Just can't resist the charm, can you?" His voice was deeper, rougher from sleep. It calmed you, but never like Remus' did. You waddled closer to the man, his arms opening for you as you crawled into him.

You both laid in silence, but awake now, as you took in the moment.

"I miss him, Siri. I know I shouldn't, I know I should hate him, but my entire being misses him." Your voice was softer than his was, much softer, but it wasn't because you were afraid of him, but because you were afraid of your own truth.

"I know you do. I know he misses you too. You guys are kinda like Lily and James, meant to be. He's just, an absolute git for this." His fingers worked in your hair, rubbing your scalp and causing your eyes to close in comfort.

"I thought we were meant to be too. But, he doesn't want me anymore. He doesn't want us." At that, Sirius rested a hand at your bump, this being the first touch they really had beside your own. "He does, he's just stupid and scared. Either way, you have us. Aunt Lily, Uncle James, and, the absolute best uncle in the world, Uncle Siri. We've got you." His sensere words lulled you to sleep, a sleep where you felt safe and happy falling into.

You were running again, but it didn't feel like you were in danger. It felt like you were running to run, really. Which, was something you did not do. You weren't in the woods, but you didn't know where you were. All you did know is that you were still scared. Absolutely, bone crushingly scared.

With each step you took, the fear grew. How could you possibly be this scared? You were looking for something, but you didn't know what. You were shaking, but from both the cold and the fear. You were shaking. Shaking. Shaking

Shaking. "Y/n, wake up!" Sirius was looking down at you, his eyes full of excitement. "Your great grandpa is showing us the American version of Diagon Alley today!" You smiled up at him, nodding.

"Okay, okay, let me get changed."

The four of you had left your Grandpa once he settled himself down to play some wizards chess, waving you off.

"You know where the house is when you're done, I've got a title to keep."

You wandered through stores, showing them the few things you had learned so far about the wizarding world here. The four of you had just walked into their version of Flourish and Blotts when you were stopped by an older couple. "Oh, you both look absolutely wonderful! I remember when I was that pregnant. How far are you both?" she was smiling at you and Lily, growing closer to you.

"I'm due in about a week and a half. We already have one, Harry, who's staying with her family." She had pointed to you, smiling at the older woman. "Oh, I'd expect you to be due any day now. Seconds always come early and you look family dropped. What about you dear?" She had looked to you, glancing at your own belly.

"Oh, I'm only a few months along. Twins." You laughed, your hand resting protectively on your belly. "Awe, that's lovely. You both look radiant. Two amazing father's, I hope?" She now looked at James and Sirius, smiling at them. "Oh, no, I'm not the father. Our best mate is." Sirius spoke, gesturing to you. "Well, I dunno, is he?" He asked, looking at the three of you. "It's complicated." Lily said, smiling.

The older woman nodded, smiling. "I completely understand. I wish you both the best of luck." She bid you all adu, leaving with her husband.

"I can't tell if that was awkward or sweet." James laughed, leading you all to the door to leave.

You all laughed as you walked through the Wizarding space until you and Lily began complaining about the swollen ankles and bloated stomach enough to convince James and Sirius to guide you both home.

As the day turned into night, you now showing your friends the muggle artifacts your grandpa has collected from his move to the states. That was, until Lily groaned in pain.

"Fuck, she was right." The young woman grumbled, clenching her bump. "What do you mean?" James asked, his hand on her back softly. "He's coming early, James. I'm in labor, fuck." She groaned again, tilting her head back at the pain she was feeling for the second time in her life.

"Shit, Sirius, go find some towels. I'll go tell grandpa to write the healer for labor." You spoke, pointing Sirius in the direction of the towels before moving to Lily. "It'll be okay, okay? Everything will be fine." She nodded, gripping your hand tightly as she looked in your eyes. She smiled before groaning once more, a contraction hitting her. "Okay, okay, healer. You guys lay her down." Sirius returned with multiple towels, James and him laying a few out before helping Lily lay down on them.

You turned to waddle out of your home, attempting to get to your grandpa's house as quickly as possible.

Three steps towards his house, you heard a twig snap.

Five steps towards his house, you heard a thud.

Nine steps towards his house, a figure stopped before you, it's frame furry and bent, a growl releasing from his lips.

A werewolf.

How the fuck is a werewolf standing in front of you, in the middle of fucking Texas, in a populated muggle area?

You took a few steps backwards, until it clicked.

The only Werewolf that would spend his full moon looking for you was the same werewolf that has plagued your mind for the past month.

Moony.

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boop-le-snoot · 2 years

Text

what if...

the avengers met the multiversal trespassers & you were the assistant. crack fic. part 2. read part 1 here.

The initial briefing goes about as well as it can.

Clint is absolutely plastered from Dr. Banner's THC cookies and barely can string a sentence together much less offer any insight, the Peter trio abandons everybody in favour of pointing out the differences and similarities between themselves, Sam has to withstand Max's fanboying over him and The Falcon, Tony quietly converses with Dr. Octavius - or Doc Ock, as his Peter called him all the while Banner and Strange try to figure out a way to turn the Lizard back into a human man.

Steve and Bucky, while not giving you a direct reason for your headache, had done nothing but eat everything in sight since they got there. The good Captain doesn't even try to make sense of the situation, his jaw just keeps moving as he reads something on his tablet.

As usual, you get to do the dirty work. The newcomers' faces and other appendages have been plastered all over the social media; Twitter is blowing up, as usual when there is a superhero sighting, but it's not the argumentative 140-character posts you are worried about.

It's Tumblr. The inhabitants of the hellsite had gone absolutely mad over some grainy footage of Dr. Octavius and his four extra appendages: the fact that there's not enough pixels to even have a good look at his face didn't stop them. Within several hours of his initial appearance, fanart had appeared and some of it makes your cheeks heat as you hurry to lower the brightness of your screen.

"We should clear up the internet," Tony says offhandedly in your direction.

"Good luck with that," you scoff. "There's fanart already."

"Damn, they're quick," the engineer mutters, crossing his arms. "This lovely gentleman is from the year 2004 so he's got a lot to catch up on. I hoped we could start with Wikipedia or YouTube, you know," the warning in Tony's words is clear. Do not traumatise the old man.

Old Peter, however, had his own ideas. "Oh yeah, it's absolutely insane these days. I've seen some seriously questionable drawings of me."

Accompanied by baby spider's groan, Old Peter completely ignores Tony's rapidly widening eyes and subtle head movements begging him to shut up.

It seems like all Peters have a talking problem, because Middle Peter doesn't hesitate to add his own five cents: "Oh yeah, I was there for the great Tumblr ship wars. Almost didn't go patrolling one night because a few people were hell-bent on getting rescued by me just so they could accurately describe my... Abs."

"Interesting," Dr. Octavius remarks, a corner of his mouth tilting upwards in what you could only describe as pure mischief.

His face loses several decades of age thanks to that single gesture and you shudder, thinking of people's reaction when the internet Gremlins actually get a good at him in all his smouldering, tentacled glory. One crooked smirk and they're all going to be gone, lost in the desert of thirst for Doc Ock.

Of course, he notices you looking at him, his smirk growing into a toothy, teasing smile in an instant. "Don't worry, darling, I'll try my best to give you no trouble."

Tony's gaping like a fish, eyes darting between the two of you like he'd just witnessed a heinous crime right at the tip of his nose. You'd gotten immune to his antics ages ago, knowing that his flirting was nothing more than a conversational habit, but you had no doubt that Doc Ock's cheeky words are going to put Tony in an existential crisis in approximately twenty minutes.

Tony might have been a genius... Yet, his self-awareness was severely lacking.

You clear your throat, swiping away the tab with the drawings of agile, mechanical tentacles. "What's the plan, guys? I can't keep off the press for very long and the public relations department needs at least two hours to prepare a statement that will hold up to the masses."

Tony fiddles with the drawstrings of his hoodie. "We need to cure Dr. Connors and find two more of the stowaways."

You take note of the Lizard's government name, writing it down in your notes. "There's two more? Why aren't you out looking?"

Tony sighs and you feel dread slowly creep up your spine.

"One of them is man made of sand. Don't ask me, I've no clue how that works," the engineer raises his hands before you can even get a word in. "The other one is an incredibly intelligent, violent psychopath."

You carefully consider your options, weighing in the innate instinct to rip out your hair and scream against the logical solution to the current predicament. You're incredibly good at your job, so common sense wins. Nearly effortlessly.

"I'll get the PR guys," you sigh, before turning to the newcomers. "If you need anything - and I mean anything, clothes, a phone, food - just ask FRIDAY and she will relay it to me. I'll do my best to deliver quickly."

"Friday?" You hear Dr. Octavius ask, and Tony is immediately sidetracked, preoccupied with talking all about his cool AI, jealousy over his assistant long forgotten. To give credit where it due, Doc Ock himself looks like all his Christmases just came to be.

In about an hour, you finally get your hands on some food, after sending a small army of interns to get the multiversal trespassers their necessities. The PR department is already mid-way through cooking up a half decent cover-up and the crazy Lizard-man is not causing you any more grief, safely locked away in Bruce's hulk-out room. Your chest finally feels relaxed enough to fit in the appropriate amount of oxygen in it.

Suddenly, an explosion shakes the floor under you. You jump up, in alarm, your fried noodles flying all over your desk, and look at the city below, searching for the source of the small but strong earthquake.

"Ma'am, Sir kindly requests you not be alarmed. The explosion was due to an equipment malfunction." FRIDAY'S voice sounds almost apologetic.

"Is Dr. Octavius with him?" You rub your temple, knowing where this is going and refusing to accept it anyway.

"Yes, ma'am," FRIDAY's tone changes to near glee. "They just refurbished codes to Dr. Octavius' AI and now are attempting to make the actuators fully retractable. They have both agreed that their current state is unsatisfactory, considering the opportunities this universe provides."

Shaking off several soggy noodles off your shirt, you put a spring to your step as you huff and march towards Tony's private lab. "I'll show you two something unsatisfactory..."

#avengers crackfic #spiderman nwh #all aboard the thirst train choo choo #for doc ock of course #this is kinda meta

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knockknockchicagopd · 3 years

Text

❛ SECOND CHANCE ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY ANON: Hi! I hope your day is going well I just wanted to say I loved your Hank Voight imagine and I wanted to make a request if that’s ok? If you could do one where the reader gets seriously hurt and Voight goes out for revenge and Voight gets even more protective of her than normal.

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 1k.

❚❙ HEADCANON.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

The stab took you by surprise. You didn't see it coming. Patrolling the streets on foot in broad daylight. You were distracted talking with your partner about going to Molly's after finishing your shift.

Then, you felt the cold blade trespassing your blue shirt and ripping your skin and being sunk deep inside your guts. Before twisting it to cause you a worse damage.

Your body went into shock as the blood drew out of your body, falling down without being able to hold yourself from your partner.

Trying to not close your eyes, feeling life abandoning your chest, the voices around calling for an ambulance became farther and farther, until you couldn't hear anything.

Voight and you broke up, after almost two years of relationship because of some trouble you had with him through the fault of Justin, but you never changed your emergency contact.

So, he was the first person to be called from the hospital.

When he came, you were still in the surgery. And the doctors didn't know how much it was going to take them in.

Hank decided to catch your attacker in the meantime, after the situation drove himself insane waiting for less than five minutes without being able to do anything for you. Just being able to walk in the waiting room from one side to another, like a locked lion.

And of course he caught him. One hour after, the man was handcuffed inside the cage of the Intelligence Unit.

Hank used him as a boxing bag, the ten minutes Platt let him to be alone with your attacker.

When the cops came to pick him up and saw that he was bleeding all around, Hank just claimed that he fell down the stairs.

But there weren't any stairs.

The first thing you feel, as you wake up slowly, is a hand tightly holding yours.

Using your free one to take off the tubes stuck in your nose, you move your head to the right over the pillow.

The mattress sinks close to your body, a second before that a pair of rough lips are pressed on your forehead.

You're disorientated, opening your eyelids to find Hank's crystal eyes.

You can't help but show him a fleeting smile, watching him lying by your side to wrap your body with his arms, carefully to not rip off any other tube from your wrist and chest.

“What happened…?” You whisper with a dry tone of voice, because of the lack of wetness in your throat, coughing inevitably.

“Shh… don't worry about that now, baby. It's okay, I took care of it. I will take care of you”.

After three days in the hospital, Will discharges you, trusting in Voight's words.

He's not going to leave you again.

He has asked for a couple days else to be with you at his house.

He has prepared consciousness every corner of his house and he has already gone to yours to pack enough clothes and other things you can need.

Hank's attention is twenty four hours on you, being sure that you take your meds, that you're comfy on the sofa, that you have your favorite snacks and your favorite drinks.

He blames himself.

The 21st District is the most secure in Chicago, in reality. But when you two broke up, you asked for a transfer to the 9th.

This wouldn't have happened if you would have stayed in his district.

You have heard him crying in the bathroom, in the middle of the night, waking you up.

Dragging your feet over the cold floor, pressing a hand against your side when you receive a lash of pain after the effort of getting up, you step out from the room to cross the hallway and place your ear against the door. The sorrow installed in your chest, being aware that he thinks this is his fault, you can't help but push the wood with your other hand.

Hank stands up as soon as he sees you, clearing his tears with the back of his fingers to pretend that he wasn't really crying. He's about to say something when you interrupt him, leaning on your tiptoes to reach his lips with yours. He doesn't move at first, but it takes him only one second to surround your body with his arms.

Your lips move in sync, spreading all the tenderness you can feel for each other. It doesn't matter how many months have passed, you still feel the same love that united you one day. And without breaking the kiss, he squats enough to grab your legs and lift you up, urging you to put them around his waist. You don't utter a single word, placing your hands on the back of his head as you slowly deepen the kiss by sliding your tongue in his cavity to find his.

“I love you… I've never taken you off from my head. I've been thinking of you every single second of my days, since you left”. His throaty voice leads on your lips like a soft and gentle touch, lying you down carefully back on his bed. Your bed. “I don't want anything in my life, but you. Only you. And I'm sorry for all the things I said, for all the shit I did to you, because you didn't deserve it”.

Keeping you embraced between his arms, against his chest, Hank spreads dearly and sloppy kisses all around your face. Taking his time. No rush. His thumb caresses your cheek, while he rests his head over the pillow. Nose against nose.

“Let me take care of you. Stay with me, please”.

Closing your eyes, you just nod getting comfier sinking your face into his neck. You have missed him, you can't lie and say that he hasn't been your first and your last thought after waking up every morning and before going to sleep every night.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ⚡#hank voight #hank voight imagine #hank voight x reader #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd #one chicago

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

Text

Stay Strong, Alex - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

"Detective (L/n)," Rick sneers. "And they say there's never a cop around when you need one."

"So you know me?" (Y/n) asks, her voice soft.

"Of course," Rick answers. "I took a whole year planning this. Watching Alex, preparing," (Y/n) folds her hands together and she can hear Kara pacing behind her near the door. "I know everything."

"How did you know I was Supergirl?" Kara snarks.

"That day at the beach," Rick replies. "Before you started wearing glasses." He pauses. "I had no idea that Alex would end up playing for the other team, so to speak." (Y/n) swallows thickly. "I was just happy she showed up on the date. And then there was a crash. And Alex's kid sister walked away without a scratch," Rick says calmly, looking up at Kara, who standing over (Y/n)'s shoulder. "People at school said it was adrenaline, but, uh . . ."

"But you didn't believe that," (Y/n) finishes, her head tilting a little.

Rick nods, "I saw Kara Danvers do something amazing. And it stayed with me. I knew Kara was living in National City, and then Supergirl showed up in National City . . ." Rick chuckles. "I put two and two together. I knew it was you."

"What happened to you?" Kara asks softly. "I remember when Alex had chickenpox, I was eating lunch by myself," Kara's voice sounds a little wistful as she remembers the Earth portion of her childhood. "You came and sat with me."

Rick chuckles again. "I was fourteen," as Rick begins, (Y/n) rises from her chair to lean against the table. "And I didn't have the nice house or the perfect family that you and your sister had."

"You think we had it easy?" Kara asks skeptically. "You have no idea what Alex sacrificed for me. Or what I was going through!"

"Why?" Rick sneers. "Because you had to hide your superpowers? I was hiding bruises!" Rick is yelling now and (Y/n) had taken half a step backward. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have your mother tell you your garbage every single night?" The blonde man makes eye contact with (Y/n) and the young woman crosses her arms. "A belt whenever you had the wrong opinion? And then I found a lifeline. A father my mom kept from me. And he saved me from her and he moved me away from Midvale. And even though he was always struggling, he always made sure there was food on the table and he got me enough money to go to college. And then three years ago, the state took him from me."

"Your father killed two people," (Y/n) says, her voice low. "He confessed."

"They had it coming," Rick growls and (Y/n) straightens, her arms still folded over her chest. "And now I'm going to rescue him like he rescued me." Rick pauses. "I can't believe we're still talking about me! You have twenty-four hours and eleven minutes." Kara stiffens as Rick continues, "Come on, Kara, show us some of that rah-rah Midvale Junior High Spirit." Rick is yelling now. "Free my dad! Or your sister dies."

Kara growls, zooms over, flips the table, and pins Rick to the wall.

"Oh, you use half this much gusto in springing my dad, you'll have your sister back for game night."

"Kara! We're done here!" (Y/n)'s voice cracks.

Kara lets go of Rick and the man drops to the ground. "Hey. You know what'll be fun?" Rick asks. (Y/n) frowns, an eyebrow raising as she steps back from the man. "Finding out which one of you loves her more." (Y/n) closes her eyes momentarily, a wave of anguish washing over her. "Honestly, I wouldn't know where to place my bet," Rick sneers and (Y/n) swallows thickly.

Kara frowns at the man and after a minute, the two women go to leave the room, (Y/n) pausing for a second.

"Go Stallions," Rick grins.

Just outside the room, Kara speaks, "I'm giving him one minute, then I'm going back in there."

"No," (Y/n) says and Kara turns to look at her, Kara's eyes blazing.

"Why?" Kara snaps.

"Let him sweat it for a while," (Y/n) tells her, her voice softer than usual as she talks to her girlfriend's sister. "We got what we wanted."

"What?" Kara asks. "All we know is how he knows my identity."

"We know that Rick's pinned his whole sense of self-worth on Peter Thompson," (Y/n) explains, her voice still soft. "Thompson is the key to getting Alex back."

Kara's blazing eyes seem to extinguish as she considers (Y/n)'s words.

. . .

An hour or so later, (Y/n) and Peter Thompson walk into Rick's integration room.

(Y/n) closes the door behind Thompson.

Rick grins down at the table, before standing up after a moment.

"Ricky," Thompson says with a smile.

"Dad," Rick says, and the two embrace.

"All that time in prison, I imagined a day when . . . I could talk to you without a pane of glass between us."

"The DEO moved heaven and Earth to free this man," (Y/n) says. "We did what you wanted. Now, tell us where Alex is."

"No. No, not until my father and I are far from here," Rick says.

"You think we're stupid?" (Y/n) asks. "I showed you mine. Your turn."

"So you can toss us in Gitmo?" Thompson asks. "Not gonna happen."

(Y/n) shakes her head in disbelief.

"Maybe he gives you a piece. A little token of goodwill," Thompson adds. "You gotta give them something, Ricky. That's how it works. Just tell them where she is." Thompson narrows his eyes at his son.

"Well, you really nailed his essence, I'll give you that," Rick says.

"What?" (Y/n) asks, stepping forward, her arms crossing.

"I mean, that thing . . ." Rick says, studying his father's face. "He couldn't decide whether to hug me or not. That's vintage Dad." Rick sits back down in his metal chair.

"What are you talking about?" Thompson asks, walking up to stand beside the table.

"My father would never be playing these games. He'd be wanting to get the hell away from here and making sure that he never went back to prison," Rick's expression is one of anger. "I've been planning this for a year. Do you really think I didn't prepare for you," Rick pauses, looking up at Thompson, "Martian?"

Thompson walks over to (Y/n) and shifts back into himself.

"You're down to twenty-three hours and fourteen minutes," Rick says as he gazes at (Y/n) and J'oon. "And counting."

(Y/n) closes her eyes, pressing her index finger and thumb to the bridge of her nose.

. . .

Winn runs down the hall. "Guys! We found Alex. I found her."

Kara - who is standing with Mon-el - turns to face Winn. "You did?" Kara asks frantically.

"We got a ping from her subdermal tracker," Winn explains. "She's not far!"

. . .

Back in the interrogation room, (Y/n) is sitting across from Rick, her hands folded and resting on the table in front of her.

"(Y/n)," Kara says, opening the door to the room. "Winn found Alex."

"What? How?" (Y/n) asks quickly, rising from her chair to look at Kara.

"I guess you underestimated my sister," Kara says, looking past (Y/n) to look at Rick. "Let's go."

But (Y/n) pauses, turning to look at Rick. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"You're delusional," Kara sneers. "And the second we get back here with Alex, you're going to prison with your dad."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Rick says with a shrug, and fear surges through (Y/n)'s heart.

Kara strides out of the room and (Y/n) meets Rick's eyes, holding the stare for a moment.

(Y/n) runs out of the room. "Watch him," (Y/n) tells the guard as she runs past him after Kara. "Hey, stop," (Y/n) tells Kara. "Malverne still thinks he's in control," (Y/n) tells her.

Kara turns, looking highly annoyed with (Y/n) at this point.

"He's not acting like someone who just lost," (Y/n) continues. "He didn't even flinch. It's like he expected this."

"No, no, no, we are not listening to that psycho," Kara says, walking closer to (Y/n). "Every minute we wait for matters."

"I - I want to get her as badly as you do," (Y/n) retorts, "but we can't punch our way out of this. We've got to get this right."

"If the shoe were on the other foot, Alex would already be out the door. I'm not waiting," Kara argues.

"You're not the only one who cares about her!" (Y/n) says, her voice rising.

"I'm going!" Kara yells over her shoulder as she strides out of the DEO.

(Y/n) swallows thickly and looks at the ground.

. . .

Kara flies across the city and lands in a warehouse, crashing through the roof.

"Kara!" comes a faint voice.

"Alex!" Kara yells in reply.

"I'm down here!"

Kara runs over to a metal plate on the floor and bends the metal, puling up the plate. Throwing the plate aside, Kara freezes, reading the writing on the wall: 'NOW YOU HAVE FOUR.'

"Four?" Kara asks. "What . . ." There is a rapid beeping and the timer next to the computer screen flashes to four hours.

. . .

In Alex's cell, water begins rushing into the cement cage. Alex, panicking, grabs her jacket to try to plug the pipe.

. . .

"Oh, my God," Kara whispers, her voice full of fury.

. . .

Kara walks back into the DEOs' headquarters, holding the laptop in one hand.

Entering Rick's room again, Kara sets the laptop on the table.

"Where is she?" Kara asks, her voice steely.

"I told you not to go . . ." Rick says calmly.

"Tell me where she is now!" Kara thunders, slamming her hands down on the table.

"I gave you thirty-six hours to break my father out of prison," Rick replies. "But you didn't listen. So now, that room is gonna fill up with water in less than four hours. I think it's time you got moving."

Kara's lip quivers. "Let me talk to Alex."

Rick leans forward and presses a few of the keys and there is a beep.

Kara turns the laptop around and leans down to talk to her sister through the computer.

"Alex," Kara says, her voice quavering.

"Kara! I sent out a signal, I thought you were coming," Alex says, the water up to her waist now.

"He re-routed the IP address. He sent us somewhere else. Do you have any idea where you are?"

"I was unconscious. I could be hours away or I could be in the city," Alex replies, a frown spreading across her face. "I don't know."

Rick leans forward. "Alex, it's Rick. It don't want to hurt you. I keep on telling your sister that. Tell her to get my father, and this can all be over. You can come home and get dry."

"No. Kara, no," Alex says, pointing at the camera. "You do not give that terrorist what he wants. You cannot let yourself be blackmailed. You cannot open yourself up to that, ever. Do you understand me? Supergirl is better than me."

(Y/n) enters the room and, seeing Alex on the screen, runs over. "Alex!"

"(Y/n)?" Alex asks.

"I'm right here," (Y/n) replies.

"(Y/n), I need to speak to you alone," Alex says, and (Y/n) grabs the laptop and walks out of the room.

(Y/n) stands down one of the hallways. "Hun, everyone here is working hard and we're going to find you."

"The water is rising fast and there are things that I need to say," Alex says, her voice cracking a little.

"No," (Y/n) says, tears welling up in her eyes. "Don't start talking like this is the end."

"I don't want it to be, but in case that it is . . ." Alex says, pausing for a moment.

"It's not," (Y/n) whispers. "It can't be. You're a badass, Alex. And if anyone could figure out a way to get themself out of there, it's you. You're gonna hold on until I find you," (Y/n)'s voice cracks, and a tear slides down her cheek.

"(Y/n), listen to me, please," Alex tries to get out.

"No," (Y/n) argues desperately. "We just had our first Valentine's Day and I want to do more with you. I want more firsts. I want a first vacation. We haven't even argued about where we're gonna go yet, and it's bound to happen. Or what to name our first dog. Do you want to get a dog?"

(Y/n) lets out a watery laugh. "See, there's a lifetime of firsts that we're going to do together. So," (Y/n)'s voice quavers, "you hold on, okay? Hold on until I get to you. You promise. Promise me!"

"Yeah, um . . ." Alex pauses, scratching the back of her neck. "Let's name her Gertrude or we could adopt one from the animal shelter you volunteer at."

"I -" Alex tries to say, but the video cuts out.

"What?" (Y/n) whispers, typing furiously on the keyboard. "Alex!" (Y/n), frustrated with worry, tosses the broken laptop to the ground.

"What happened?" Kara asked, striding over to (Y/n).

(Y/n) meets Kara's gaze, her eyes alight with barely controlled anger. "I-I told you not to rush in. N-now you've made things worse."

"I did what I thought was right . . ." Kara argues.

"I should have been heard," (Y/n) says, her eyes narrowing. "I should have been listened to. I'm her girlfriend."

"I'm her sister!" Kara argues angrily.

"And you think that trumps me?" (Y/n) asks. "That you know what's right for her. I . . ." (Y/n) falters. "I got her to be herself, Kara." (Y/n)'s voice cracks. "I-I have just as much to lose as you." (Y/n)'s eyes burn. "You should have listened to me."

Word Count: 2,305 words

Taglist:

@procrastinatingsapphictrash

@makegoodchoices

@fanboy7794

@theofficialzivadavid

@confusinggemini612

#alex danvers x reader #alex danvers x fem reader #supergirl x reader #supergirl x fem reader #reader insert #fem reader #female reader

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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

Text

Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 3/8

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

"Play the Game" Masterlist

"Do you remember the last time I was in your car?"

The hitch immediately started with that one question. It seemed innocent enough with the way you said it in nonchalance while you let your eyes roam the ivory interior of the Lexus. The two of you were only halfway out of the highway when you asked out of the blue, ultimately pissing Nanami off.

At the reminder, his knuckles immediately turned bone white on the steering wheel, his expressions turning dark as he glanced at you, mouth set in a thin line.

He couldn't remember a darker time in his life than watching you almost die from the rear view mirror of his car as you lay shivering on the backseat, unresponsive even if he struggled to both drive, not to crash and keep you conscious. The glassy look about your blue eyes and the way your pupils had blown up to more than twice their size making him shiver. It was safe to say it scarred him for life.

It was a day like any other. He had just gotten off work after a long day at the court, a mix of sadness and elation coursing through him after winning the case for a teenage girl who was brutally murdered. He finally put the man responsible for it in jail for good. It felt good to see the relief on the faces of the grieving parents; to finally put an end to the daily misery they have to go through, having to be reminded of what has become of their daughter.

But as he was resting in his study, a damp towel draped over his tired eyes and throbbing head, his phone suddenly rang. It wasn't yet 10 o'clock in the evening so he opted to answer it, surprised when he saw your name on the screen. You never really called, and the last time you did, it didn't bode well.

"Hello?"

"Suguru..." came your hoarse voice from the other end of the line, your shallow breaths and wheezes evident in each syllable followed by the sound of faintly splashing water.

"You've reached the wrong person, sweetheart," he muttered, reminding him just how Geto was your favorite among Gojo's friends. He did not resent that, but to say he wasn't the tiniest bit jealous was a lie.

Nanami called your name several times but there was no response, just loud rustling and what seemed to be the device falling on the floor with an echo.

"I fucked up big time," you managed to choke out when you spoke again, your tone slurred, and you seemed to be having a difficult time speaking.

"Where are you?"

"I n-need you... p-please..."

"What's going on?" Nanami was already on his feet, dashing out of the study and picking up his keys, still coaxing you to respond when he heard a ding on his phone. You managed to send your location but you weren't speaking anymore.

He was not religious, probably did not believe in a higher being, but as he drove towards your location, thankfully only half a mile away to the suburbs, he found himself fervently praying for your safety.

When he finally got to the address, he found a modernistic structure, a house, and there seemed to be a party going on. He saw some familiar faces, the gallery manager from the previous exhibit of your recent collection and some art connoisseurs he recognized from the same event.

He barged into the house, being handed a champagne flute the moment he entered, everyone welcoming him but he didn't see your face among the people. He refused, asking instead where you were, sprinting up the stairs in large strides when he was told you went upstairs with some people.

Nanami pretty much kicked every door open until he finally found you in one of the upstairs bathroom. He thought his knees would give out as his heart literally stopped at the sight before him.

There, on the half-filled bathtub was you, soaked to your chest. Your white hair was matted over your forehead while the tips floated on the water. You turned your head when you heard him enter, revealing bloodshot eyes, your lips blue and you looked like you didn't have any blood left with your almost greyish pallor.

Hurriedly, he took you out of the tub, carrying you downstairs much to the curiosity of the guests. "You will be okay. Stay with me," he kept telling you.

Despite your state, you managed to smile, tears springing from your eyes. "Nanamin..." you said weakly, making his heart swell that you were at least happy to see him.

He seriously thought you were going to die, but apparently, you did not necessarily overdose on the cocaine you had taken in as he would later find out from the doctors themselves. You had a bad trip and had to be weaned off the substance for the next twenty four hours.

"Are you drug dependent?" he asked when he picked you up from the hospital, opting not to tell Gojo about the matter until he got his answers.

"You won't tell Satoru, will you?" you asked.

"That depends on your answer and whether you're telling the truth," he told you gruffly, fighting hard not to be angry seeing as how fragile you looked. He hadn't slept and he felt as if his nerves were frayed.

You shook your head. "That's the first time. I promise you it won't happen again. I know it's stupid, but I was just curious."

"Your devil-may-care attitude will kill you."

"I know."

He didn't say anything more no matter how much he wanted to scold you and beat some sense into you. He never brought it up and neither did you. That was an unspoken agreement between the two of you. It was your secret which he will carry to his grave and for the last three years since then, nothing like it happened again. You voluntarily cut your ties with the people who were in that party and since then, you had been well.

"Don't remind me," he snapped at you, keeping his eyes on the road.

You’ve reached the shop that Utahime had instructed you to go to for your fitting, but before he could kill the engine, you spoke again.

"Come to think of it, I've never properly apologized for it, and I haven't said thank you enough for saving me that day."

Nanami shot you a sharp look. "I don't want to talk about it."

You sighed and held his hand as he was taking off his seatbelt. "I don't mean to make you angry, but I am sincerely apologizing for it. I am sorry because I put you through that."

Nanami held you by the wrist instead, meeting your gaze with a cold stare. "If you are, then I hope you also realized what a selfish person you are. You're right. You put me through hell. What could I have said to your brother if you died on me that night?"

You didn't say anything, appearing contrite for the first time.

"Gojo would have lost you. Your friends would have lost you." He sighed heavily, holding your hand properly, his expressions softening at how tiny yours looked in his. "I would have lost you."

At his last statement, you nodded and chuckled quietly. "I wouldn't refute that if it saves me. Still, I wanted you to know that it was a big deal for me." You smiled at him. "But that's not all. I could have lost you, but you're still here. So, thanks." And in a surprising turn of events which left him dumbstruck, you lifted both your hands and brushed your lips on his knuckles before disembarking from the car and skipping to the couturier's shop.

His mind wandered throughout the time he was being assisted into the suit that the bride- and groom-to-be had chosen for him to wear on their wedding. He had to give Gojo props for choosing well and suiting the ensemble’s piece to his preference. But he couldn’t quite concentrate on the task at hand when the scene in the car kept playing in his mind. The back of his hand still tingled where you kissed it.

All he wanted to do was see you, but you were a room away, also being pricked and pinned. He wanted nothing but for the fitting to be over so he can be with you again, regardless if it was just for the short drive going back to Gojo manor. Your course of action and words fueled something in him he thought never existed, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to see you, hear you, smell you, touch you. He wanted you, wanted to have you for himself come Gojo or high water. He already knew that, but he never felt as strongly as he did for you than at present because he also knew, that for the first time, you were being yourself and not playing games with him.

Nanami vaguely heard the tailor say something to him, but he didn’t quite catch it, but his image on the mirror suddenly became clearer as he was interrupted from his daydream. His brows furrowed together as he assessed what the man said, but before it could drag on for too long, his cluelessness, he said, “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“Is the fit just right, Mr. Nanami?” the man asked again, expert eyes scanning over his figure.

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” Nanami stated hurriedly. He couldn’t care less about the suit, but it was already great. He didn’t see any reason to prolong the appointment. “Can I get changed now?”

“Certainly, sir,” the tailor said. “I will leave you to get dressed.”

He just nodded and carefully shed the suit off before changing back into his clothes, meticulously folding the sleeves of his shirt before he set out in search of you. He knocked on the door he was directed to, hearing music playing on the other side of the door along with some voices, one of which was yours.

The door opened and his eyes immediately met those cool blue ones through the mirror. You had your arms spread out to the sides as three women worked around you. “Done already?”

Nanami felt heat creeping up his neck as he averted his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were far from finished.”

“Oh, shush. I need your opinion.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Like I know anything about this.” At odds to his words, he sat down.

“Your boyfriend is handsome,” the couturier commented with a flirtatious giggle as he sized Nanami up.

“I –”

He was about to protest when you cut him short and said, “Isn’t he?”

“That coming from the person who said she didn’t feel like drawing my face,” he said, feigning annoyance.

“Oh, baby. I can’t draw your face if its saves me.” You flashed him a seductive smile. “You’re too perfect.” You winked at him through the mirror while he just sat down and shook his head in amusement, picking up a magazine but not really reading through it. He just watched as you were directed like a doll to pose whichever way the stylist wanted and he could have sworn he has seen nothing more beautiful.

“Just another pin right here,” the couturier said flamboyantly, fastening this and that around your sides, “…and we’re done!” He clapped his hands, standing back as he admired his handiwork. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s fine,” you said, tilting your head to the side.

“Hmm,” Nanami butted in, closing the distance between him and you. He came closer behind you, silently ordering everyone else out of the room with a succinct jerk of his head before he stood there, eyes on your bare back. He placed both hands on either of your shoulders, towering over you.

You quietly observed what he was doing from the mirror, your expressions unchanging even when he traced your spine with his finger. His lips curled at the corners ever so slightly when you slightly jerked forward when he reached the small of your back, relishing the smoothness of your skin against his calloused digit. He lingered there, drawing circles as he met your gaze on your reflection.

“Isn’t this too low?” he asked, his breath hitting the shell of your right ear. “You’re attending a wedding anyway.”

“Oh?” You twirled around so that your back was to the mirror, while you looked over your shoulder to check what he was saying. The plunging style of the dusty rose gown dipped all the way to your waist. “You think so?” You looked up at him, noticing how his face was just inches away from you. “I think it’s okay.”

“Okay for everyone to see?”

At that, you smiled smugly at him. “And you don’t like that, do you, Nanamin?” you asked sultrily.

“I am your boyfriend after all,” he teased. “While I’d like to brag about you, it wouldn’t sit right with me to know everyone’s seeing what’s supposedly only for my eyes, now would it?”

“I never took you for the jealous – whoa!”

Without preamble, he wrapped a strong arm around you, pulling you close so that you were flush against his chest, a devious smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t even concealing his enjoyment anymore. He liked having you close like that, your intoxicating scent dominating his senses.

“Why did you say that to the stylist?” he asked, leaning closer and reveling at the fact that you were caught off guard, eyes wide in surprise.

“It’s easier to just say so than explain, isn’t it?” You leveled your bearing with his. “You didn’t do anything to disagree either.”

“First, you kiss me in front of your brother, flirt with me like it’s normal and say things like that. What are you playing at?”

“Is this one of your games?” you asked, returning his question to you the previous day. You reached up and cupped the side of his face, eyes lingering on his mouth. “Cause I’ll play, Kento.”

He has never quite thought of his name before, whether he liked it or not. It was given to him and he couldn't imagine being called anything else. But he has never liked the sound of it as much as he did when it was rolling out of your tongue. It brought out a strange feeling, spurring him on to give in to his desires instead of holding them back like he usually does with you.

It was all the encouragement he needed. Fuck everything, he thought, dipping his head lower to close the distance between the two of you until he was touching your lips. A quiet gasp left your mouth when he pressed his lips onto yours in an experimental touch, gentle as a zephyr. Your ocean eyes stared at him, taken aback when he pulled away but the dazed look you had was the same one that drew him back to you, landing pecks several times, each one lingering longer than the last.

"Are you teasing me, Nanamin?" you breathed out softly, the laughter in your voice dying out when he captured your lips, this time shutting you up for a good while, coaxing you to respond to his ministrations. He knew he won over you when he felt your fingers grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer, your chest rising and falling against his in shallow breaths, making his heart thrum wildly.

His senses were already heightened whenever you were in the same breathing space as he was, but it was always a different story when you were touching him. Hyper aware. There wasn't a better word that would describe how he felt at that moment. He seemed to see everything he wouldn't usually notice; hear his heart thrumming over every other thought in his brain; almost touch the tension in the air and feel that intense heat blooming from his chest outwards.

But at the same time, nothing mattered but the person in front of him, kissing him and making him feel all sorts of ways. He was a gonner and he knew it but he didn't want to fight it either.

You moaned into the kiss when he gently darted his tongue into your mouth, seducing yours in a fiery dance that united your breaths. His hands made their way up your shoulders, the feel of your soft skin awakening carnal thoughts, making him think of nothing but ways to own you, mark you until he was satisfied. He cupped your face in his large hands, holding you in place, unable to get enough of your taste and the sensations you gave him. They made him crave like a man starved and deprived and he wants to take, take, take.

By the time he pulled away, he was a panting mess, eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against yours, willing himself to calm down. He couldn't help the smile that graced his lips the moment he opened his eyes to find you flushed, lips swollen from his kisses. But that was short-lived when he heard a clinking sound on the side of his head and a wicked grin stretched over your mouth. When he followed the sound, he saw the keys to his car dangling on your fingers.

"What –"

You took a step back when he tried to reach for it, effectively holding it away from him. "Prestidigitation," you declared, sounding victorious. "I'm driving. No arguments."

Nanami sighed, his senses still fuzzy from your kiss and the sight of you whirling around in chiffon and taffeta. He just gave in to his affections for you in hopes of coming out the victor, but you still played him in his own game. "Fine. You win."

You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek, stepping off to the side to ring the bell for the shop staff. "I promise not to crash your car."

Nanami sat on the passenger side of the car, glancing at the fair-haired villain who stole his car keys, currently driving him to some surprise place of your choosing. He had protested when he noticed how you were going to the opposite way from the manor, taking the highway that led well away from the town. Thrice, he told you to turn back and for every reason he cited, you had a counterattack, not necessarily valid but enough grounds for you to get your way.

"I need to read through the case file and take down notes to make up for the time I'm missing at the firm," came his first excuse but you effectively shot that down by pointing at his briefcase neatly tucked at the backseat.

"Yeah, cause as anal as you are about your job, you don't keep spare copies in your car in cases of emergency."

He jerked on his seat at your comment. "Hey, I'm not anal about my job! I'm just being prudent."

You laughed at the way his voice was raised than usual. "No need to get defensive. Besides, Your initial hearing isn't going to be in two months and by the looks of it, you have everything almost done."

"How did you –"

"I saw them the first day you arrived." Shrugging, it was your turn to shoot him with an annoyed gaze. "You keep forgetting that I have photographic memory. I'm cursed to remember everything."

Truth was, he seemed to be forgetting whose sister you were, letting his guard down and kissing you the way he did. He knew he could have done more if he completely let go of his reins. You were just too tempting, too beautiful and brimming life and infinite galaxies in your eyes which devoured him and made him lose of all sense of time, space and just sense in general.

"Satoru will be looking for you," Nanami attempted for the second time which only earned him an imperious look from you. You said everything in that single action: one, that you didn't care and two, that he was behaving ludicrously.

For the final time, he tried to appeal with something which you would actually give a damn about. "Don't you want to spend time with your friends?"

"Seriously, Nanamin, they're the least of your problems. We're going camping tonight. Besides, they know –" You deliberately stopped talking, your ears turning red, evidently flustered.

"They know what?" he prompted, leaning forward to have a better look at your face to assess your mood.

But then you said, "You're distracting me."

"And you're being evasive."

"If you don't want to spend time with me, just say so." In an abrupt swerve which made his life flash before his eyes, you pulled over to the side of the road, letting go of the steering wheel after you killed the engine. "Drive us home then."

You motioned to remove your seat belt, but Nanami stopped you, shaking his head. Why anything never went right when he was dealing with you was beyond him. "That's not it at all."

"Then what?" you snapped.

Damn, he thought. If the two of you were already fighting the way you are at present, he couldn't imagine how things would be once you were in an actual relationship. Then again, maybe it was the confusion as to what was happening that was causing the unwarranted tension between you two.

He sighed. "You're just too erratic. I can't keep up."

"And you're too fucking vanilla!" you growled.

Nanami was appalled that you would say that same comment in such a way. Leveling his ire with yours, he spat, "That's rich coming from you. Didn't you date that Kamo kid?"

You were stunned at his citation of your former relationship, even more so at his childish attempt at spiting you. It was so atypical of him. "You..." You jabbed a finger at him, about to spit fire when you realized that he cared enough to notice. Your brows knit together. "How did you know about that?"

"You think I wouldn't notice that he's been following you around like a lovestruck puppy during last year's autumn festival?" Nanami scoffed, sneering. "A person like you with someone more boring than the vanilla you claim that I am?"

He was being petty, he knew it, too. The look on your face as you just ogled him in stunned silence says it all. It was as if you never expected him to ever retort the way he did. It was really unusual if he would say so himself since he never really indulged you enough to actually argue with you the way the two of you were doing at the moment.

Out of the blue, you burst out in a fit of giggles, the corners of your eyes watering. "Come to think of it, he acts more like an old man than you do..."

"You dare call me an old man?" He knew your argument was over, but he couldn't help but say it. There was an out of place sense of satisfaction that engaging you in a word joust gave him no matter how unintelligent and shallow it was about.

When you finally calmed down, you said, "I want you to have fun and have a sense of adventure for once. I swear I won't throw your dead body to the ocean."

His left eye twitched at your sentiment. "Well, if you put it that way..."

"Just say yes to me for once."

"I always say yes to you if you haven't noticed by now."

You snickered, starting the engine. "I want you to say yes to me now."

Nanami felt something tug at his chest. "Yes."

"Good." You leaned over and poked him on the cheek.

Nanami sat there, rolling down the window as you drove, letting lose and enjoying the scenery the car passed by on the way to the sea. For the first time in a long time, his face ached from smiling too much, unable to help it.

He knew it and he didn't care if he was doomed. He was in love with you, always have been and always will.

-end of part 3-

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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eskalations · 3 years

Text

"I've always known that I was a big target for them - almost as big as Erwin himself - but I never thought they would go after my own daughter." Levi released a dark chuckle at this, closing his eyes in disbelief. 'I can't believe my stupidity. The Titans have cut down families before, I don't know what made me think that mine would be any different."

(Rivetra AU where Petra is a pediatric nurse and Levi is a single father)

Hello! Wow oh wow! I haven't written since August and this oneshot definitely made it more obvious. Originally it was only supposed to be about 5,000 words but it soon grew into the monster that it is now. Will it stay a oneshot forever? I don't know...but for now, it is what it is! Editing this was a nightmare, so I apologize for any missed mistakes, as well as my poor writing skills that have been underutilized for quite some time.

I hope regardless of that, you will still enjoy this! I just finished AOT and this couple's story absolutely gripped my heart. Here you go, Rivetra fandom!

As always, reviews are MUCH appreciated. So please be sure to tell me what you think!

Petra Ral was NOT having a good day.

While she had been a night nurse for several years now, her penchant for making rookie mistakes was almost as bad as it had been when she started. Upon crashing into bed at seven this morning, she had completely forgotten to set her alarm for later in the day. Hence, why she was running through the streets of Paradis like a madwoman.

Her co-workers were less than impressed with her dramatic entry onto the ward. Nanaba was glaring at her over the top of the counter, while Nifa bristled from beside the employee water tower.

"Really, Petra?" The spunky redhead commented in a low, disapproving tone - watching as the other ginger woman threw her bag down onto the floor beneath the desk and hurriedly began to punch in her time. "This oversleeping thing is getting pretty old, considering it's six in the afternoon, not six in the morning."

Petra held back a growl as she fumbled with her card, sticking it into the machine but not getting any response due to the shakiness of insertion. Finally, she heard a click and withdrew the parchment. With her heart still racing like mad after her dash up the stairs, she dropped in exhaustion into a vacant chair.

“You say that - “ Petra spoke for the first time since entering Paradis Hospital, her usual chipper voice hoarse from her ragged breathing. “ - but you’re not the one who worked a 12-hour shift yesterday. You were too busy working on that boyfriend of yours to even - "

“Shhhhhh!” Nifa’s face glowed scarlet as she shushed the young woman, her pale skin heating at the vulgar comment. Nanaba just laughed quietly at her friend’s embarrassment, turning her attention back to the file in front of her. All the nurses and doctors bustling about around the counter paid the girls no mind, used to the familiar banter between the three.

"Say what you want about Nifa's love life," Nanaba bristled, pulling out another form from the file in front of her for closer observation. The blonde's eyes cut towards Petra, disapproval evident in her tone. "But your the one who's late today. We had a pretty intense case come into the ward too from emergency."

“What?!” Petra yelped, her nurse’s instincts kicking in instantly at Nananba’s words. Despite her still heaving chest, the young woman sat up straighter to observe the report that was being handed over to her. “Is the child okay?”

"She's stable." Nanaba offered, turning back to the folder on her desk to grab a few more forms. "However, she's going to need to be watched closely throughout the night. The poor thing was stabbed and the blade had poison on it."

Petra wished she could act shocked, but she wasn’t. Paradis Hospital received several stab cases a day due to the gang violence in the area. The Titans certainly weren’t pulling any of their punches when it came to looting. Regardless of whether their victim was eight or eighty, they would steal from anyone with a bit of coin in their pocket.

Stabbings weren't super common on the pediatric ward, but common enough that all the staff who bustled about barely batted an eye at the thought of such an injury being treated on the floor.

"She's already been stitched up and the antidote for the poison has been administered - but, the emergency department sent her up here for monitoring, just in case she relapses," Nifa explained, now leaning over the counter to read the forms Nanaba still held in her hands. The blonde threw her an exasperated look.

“She’s not your patient, so stop being so damn nosy.”

"Well, I've never - " Nifa scoffed at the blonde's scathing tone, though Petra could hear the amusement behind it. "Sorry, for wanting to dedicate my life for the next 12-hours to a hot man with a nice - oh, I mean to a sweet little girl with a -"

"Nifa!" Petra exclaimed, catching on to what the young woman was implying. "Don't tell me you're trying to hit on a little girl's father while she's bedridden in the hospital! Have you no shame?"

“Not really!”

Even Nanaba laughed at Nifa's answer.

"Well, too bad for you, since you have a boyfriend." The blonde reminded her, to which the red-headed nurse simply stuck out her tongue. " - and Petra has been assigned to be her nurse."

“Me?” Petra had the gall to act surprised, but her friends simply rolled their eyes at her modest response.

“Oh please!" Nifa sighed, crossing her arms over the counter to once again lean closer to the girls on the other side. One of the older doctors, a man with grey hair and spectacles, eyed her disapprovingly as he passed. Nifa didn't even spare him a glance. "While you may be a notorious flake when it comes to arriving on time, it's no secret that they entrust you with the higher priority cases on the ward."

Nifa was right - it wasn't a secret. Since graduating at the top of her class in nursing school, she had always been highly respected for not only her knowledge but bedside manner, as well. Just last year, she had received an award for having the highest satisfaction rate on her floor. Now, if only she could show up to work on time…

“- he’s really short, but his eyes - wow!" Petra was brought back from her thoughts by Nifa's words. Nanaba was shaking her head as she wrote a note down in one of her patient files, trying to tune out the girl's excessive praise. "He's got that rough around the edges look, yet is put together and clean and - "

"I hate to cut you off in the middle of your fantasy - " Petra commented before standing and collecting the patient papers from the desk. "- but I have patients to take care of."

Nifa's mouth popped open in shock, her expression quickly turning to one of disbelief at the sight of Petra's teasing look.

“Says the girl who was LATE!”

Petra chuckled, shrugging her shoulders as she rushed off to her first patient's room, ready to begin her shift with newfound energy. Despite her exhaustion from the night before and the soreness in her limbs, she couldn't approach the job she loved with anything less than excitement and positivity.

Maybe it would be a good day after all.

Upon entering Heidi Ackerman's room twenty minutes later though, Petra was once again lamenting the horrible luck that seemed to be plaguing her during the past twenty-four hours.

It wasn't the child who was causing her such discomfort, but her father.

After having checked on and familiarizing herself with the low-risk patients she had been assigned, Petra finally decided to introduce herself to the latest Titan's stab victim that was residing on her ward. Checking the young girl's forms before entering the room, the nurse noticed that the child was due for a round of medication soon anyways.

‘Perfect,' Petra thought to herself while turning the knob of the door. 'If I take care of her medications now, I won’t have to return for another hour and then I can go check on - ‘

Petra's thoughts were interrupted by the sight that met her upon entry to the room.

Nifa wasn’t kidding - the guy was short. Like, really short.

Petra rarely met a male anywhere close to her height - so, the short stature of the figure that stood by the lone window of the room, instantly caught her attention.

The second thing that caught her attention? His looks.

While the man was certainly not attractive by societal standards, his piercing gaze was enough to stop any woman in her path. His eyes were grey and heavily hooded by pale white lids and beneath his stare, lay two dark bags that spoke of a restless nature. Despite the blatant signs of exhaustion, his dark hair lay near perfect across his forehead, the shaved lower half of it buzzed in an undercut fashion.

He was captivating and terrifying all at once.

“Oi, are you just going to stand there?”

His gravelly, low voice broke her from her analysis, jolting her back to reality as he shifted his posture to a more casual stance. Whereas he once stood rigid, he now placed a hand on his hip and schooled his features to resemble something more akin to indifference.

Realizing she had never responded, Petra suddenly jumped into action.

"Oh!" She smiled awkwardly, not quite feeling like her usual self. Typically, talking to patients and their families wasn't so difficult for her, but this guy was unlike her usual clientele. He practically exuded indifference and didn't look very interested in receiving an answer to what she had to assume was a rhetorical question - but Petra did not care. "Hello, my name's Petra Ral, I'll be the night nurse for Miss Heidi."

As if saying her name had reminded her of exactly why she was standing there in the first place, Petra turned her smiling face towards the bed, trying not to show her concern as her gaze fell on the small child.

Heidi Ackerman at five years old had experienced more pain in the past several hours than some adults would face in their entire lifetime. While the child's sweet features could still be seen over the top of the crisp white blankets, the pained lines of her forehead spoke of a quiet distress that had taken a hold of her and refused to let go.

Petra ached to go towards her - however, a snide remark from the man on the other side of the room had her pausing.

“You’re going to attend my child looking like that?” Disgust was evident in the man’s tone as he gave her a once over from top to bottom. “Ever heard of an iron?”

The young woman could feel her face go red at his comment, her eyes glancing down at the outfit she typically wore during her shift - a white nurses uniform, tights, and white slip-ons. The front of her outfit was pristine white - however, the bottom of her skirt had a set of small wrinkles. Petra went redder as she realized that in her confusion to get dressed after having slept in, she had picked up her uniform from the previous night that had been lying atop of the hamper.

Most people wouldn't even have noticed her slightly used uniform, but somehow this man had called her out on it, despite it only having had a few wrinkles of use embedded in the fabric.

Petra was furious. Of course, she wasn't going to show it, since she was a professional - but she couldn’t help but bite back, even if it was just a little.

“Yeah - well you aren’t looking too good either, so I guess we're even.”

The man cocked an eyebrow at her comment, before looking down at himself to see what she was talking about.

In Petra's defense, she hadn't actually looked at the man's clothes. When she had entered the room, she had been so distracted by his face, that she hadn't even gotten the opportunity. But, as he looked down at himself in search of the reason for her comment, Petra was able to give him a once over too. After examining his outfit of choice, Petra had to bite back a groan from the error of her comment.

He was dressed immaculately, wearing a dark brown leather jacket with a white shirt underneath and a pair of slender black jeans on the bottom. On his feet, were a pair of shiny, black combat boots that looked as though they had been polished that very morning.

However, the state of his clothes was not the reason Petra wanted the Earth to swallow her whole. It was the substance on the front of his shirt.

Blood.

“Tch," The man clicked his tongue, having caught sight of the dried, red blood covering his otherwise pristine white shirt. "I guess my child's blood isn't the best accessory to wear, huh?"

Fully embarrassed by her comment, Petra immediately stuck out her hands in defense, forms and all.

“Sir, I’m sorry. I truly didn’t mean - “

“I’m sure.” The words were said with such a quiet finality, that the woman felt her tongue grow heavy in her mouth. Not knowing what else to say, the room fell into an awkward silence that even Petra’s vivacious personality couldn’t conquer.

Perhaps, she had officially met her match.

The man continued to stare at her with his slate-gray eyes as the silence drug on - however, they were both interrupted from their thoughts by a quiet cough coming from the bed.

‘That’s right!’ Petra thought, a newfound energy taking hold of her as she returned her attention to the small patient residing in the bed. ‘She’s the reason I’m here.’

"Sorry, Miss Heidi!" Petra adopted her usual, chipper tone as she approached the child, already glancing at the chart that had been left on the wall at her side. While the form should have match the one she had been given, she wasn't one to cut corners, so she began to read over it to check for any additional information that could have been missed. "Your father and I are rudely neglecting you. Are you in any pain at the moment?"

While most children instantly brightened at the ginger's easygoing bedside manner - Heidi, much like her father, was not acting like a typical patient. Instead of answering, the small, dark-haired girl remained silent, glancing over at the woman with the same hooded gray eyes as her father.

Petra found the whole thing incredibly unnerving. To keep herself busy, she began to check the young girl's vitals. As she glanced over the numbers, she snuck a peek at her charge who still lay silent in the hospital bed.

Despite her lack of response to Petra's earlier question, the woman could see from the lines of distress on the girl's forehead that something was bothering her. She knew from the child's file that she had been slashed with a knife across the stomach and had been on the receiving end of an incredibly deadly poison. There probably wasn't much on her body that didn't hurt at this point.

Although she knew that the young girl must be in pain, the silence continued to grow as the two females in the room kept their gazes locked on the other.

Finally, Heidi turned to her father, who had been watching the scene unfold from his designated spot by the window. The girl's eyes shone with nothing short of fear as she appeared to silently communicate with her father. While the look on the poor child's features caused Petra's heart to clench, the man by the window merely bristled at his daughter's behavior.

"Stop trying to be tough, brat." His voice was rough, the edge in his tone similar to what it had been a minute ago. However, Petra was relieved to note a slight gentleness to his words that hadn't been present in their earlier conversation. "There's no reason to hide your pain if you're feeling any."

While the young nurse imagined any normal child would flinch at such words being thrown at them after having experienced such trauma - Heidi just blinked at her father's comment, almost as if pondering the meaning behind it.

Petra was about to jump in, having seen quite enough of the man's crass attitude towards his daughter, when the little girl finally spoke. Feebly, but with conviction.

“My stomach burns.”

Unlike her father's voice, Heidi had a sweet, slightly high-pitched voice, that would have had Petra cooing, had it not been for the current predicament the child was in.

“That’s to be expected.” The ginger responded understandingly, wanting the girl to know that she was someone she could trust over the next twelve hours. “What if I told you that I have some medicine that could make it feel better? Would you like that, Miss Heidi?”

Heidi hesitated for a moment, pulling the crisp white blanket up to her chin, almost acting like she was ashamed for having to take medicine. However, only a few beats passed before she nodded in response to the young woman's question.

"Perfect!" Petra's smile grew, the genuine kindness that typically radiated from her, shining from the depths of her chestnut eyes. "You're going to need a drink to help you wash down your pills - and I know they may taste a little nasty - so, how about I get you a juice to make it just a little bit better?"

As though a switch had been flipped, Heidi’s pale hands dropped the sheet covering the lower half of her face, revealing a tiny, rosebud mouth opened in shock. The dull gray of her eyes that had been so flat just a few moments ago, sparkled at the prospect of such a treat.

It made Petra’s heart clench once again.

The nurse was about to ask what flavor the girl wanted when her attention was drawn back to the man standing on the other side of the room. He had made a disapproving noise with his tongue as his daughter's face lit up at the thought of the sweet drink.

"Now you've done it." The man chuckled, though there was no real humor behind it. "This girl's favorite thing in the world is sweets. Now she's going to say she's in pain, just so she can get some juice."

“Sir,” Petra responded firmly, her once shining brown eyes hardening at such a careless statement. “I’m sorry, but after what she’s been through today, I think the least we could do is allow her to have some juice.”

The man shrugged his shoulders, raising his brows as though to tell her ‘do what you want’.

Which she would - gladly, in fact.

Turning back towards Heidi, who was now watching her father with a concerned expression, Petra attempted to redirect the girl’s attention.

"What flavor do you want?" That got Heidi's head swiveling back towards her. "I have cherry, grape, apple, orange, or watermelon."

“Uhhhh - “ Heidi pondered over her choices, looking up at the ceiling as though the answer would be there. After a few moments of thinking it over, the girl finally glanced back at the nurse waiting anxiously by her bedside. “I guess...cherry?”

“Excellent choice!” Petra agreed, readying herself to leave the room, but stopping dead in her tracks when hearing Heidi’s little voice again.

“Is that okay, Daddy?”

Petra watched as the little girl turned to her father, gauging his reaction for some kind of approval. The nurse waited with bated breath as the man simply stared back at the child, giving no indication of his approval either way.

Just when he was opening his mouth to give Heidi an answer - Petra jumped in, tired of witnessing the power dynamic in front of her.

“Your Daddy’s not the one drinking the juice, Heidi - so, I’m sure your choice is of no real consequence to him. Isn’t that right, Mr. Ackerman?”

There was a challenge in her tone, the words laced with borderline rudeness as she stared down the man across the room from her. Never in her life had she been so sharp with a patient nor a patient's family - however, she guessed there was no day like today. If she was going to get fired due to bad conduct, at least let it be because she stood up for a child who seemed to be in want of an advocate.

What reaction she was expecting to get from the man, she did not know - but it certainly wasn't a smirk.

He was smirking at her.

The silence stretched on for a few more seconds, the man's thin lips holding that frustrating smirk in place. He watched her as though waiting for what she was going to do next, but instead of shrinking under his gaze, she simply crossed her arms over her chest, ready to stand her ground.

Once the older Ackerman noticed Heidi’s head swiveling from side to side, watching their reactions, he released another tired, breathy chuckle.

“That’s right, Miss Ral.”

Petra hated to admit it - but, even after exiting the room, her legs continued to shake as she made her way down the hall. The trembles soon transferred into her hands as she poured the little girl a glass of cherry juice.

Upon re-entering the room, the first thing Petra noticed was that Mr. Ackerman had moved from what she thought was going to be his permanent spot in the room. He now stood by his daughter where she lay in her hospital bed, speaking quietly to her about something that the nurse couldn’t hear.

The second he saw her walk through the door, he quickly quieted - his lips returning to the thin line of indifference that she had become acquainted with, not too long ago. Choosing to ignore the strange atmosphere that settled over the room at such a blatant display of secrecy, Petra smiled brightly towards the child lying in the bed.

She was her priority.

“Alright, Miss Heidi!” Petra chirped happily, trying her best to return to the usual persona that she emulated while within the walls of the hospital. “Time for your medicine! If you could just sit up for me - “

The girl began to shift higher up in the bed, struggling to prop herself up against the pillows that lay behind her. Petra rushed to find somewhere to set the glass of juice down so that she could help her patient - however, she was beaten to it.

The girl's father placed his hands underneath her armpits, slowly pulling her back towards the head of the bed. After she was situated a little bit higher, he released his grip on her before tugging at the pillows to arrange them in a fashion that was more comfortable for her. Though he moved with purpose, his actions held a tenderness that Petra was surprised to see. If this was an unusual occurrence for Heidi, she certainly didn't show it on her tired, yet grateful features.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

The man grunted in response, patting his hand on the pillow behind her head one more time before moving his hands back to his pockets.

Petra’s brow rose in response to the uncharacteristic helpfulness she had just witnessed, but she tried to school her features in a way that didn’t show her surprise.

“Well - “ The woman cleared her throat, before handing the glass of juice over to the girl, to give herself time to retrieve the pills she had placed in the pocket at the front of her dress. “Hopefully, your pain will lessen after you take these.”

Heidi gave a shy nod at the woman’s words, looking warily at the pills. Noticing the child’s hesitance, the older Ackerman reached for the cup of juice in her shaking hands. With the movement of his arm, Petra watched as the cuff of his jacket slid up and over the skin of his wrist.

She couldn’t hide her surprise at what she saw branded there.

It was a ‘Wings of Freedom’ tattoo.

This man was a part of the Survey Corps.

It wasn’t that Petra had never interacted with an SC member before, it was just that they normally didn’t frequent this side of the hospital. Most of them didn’t have children and, even if they did, most of them wouldn’t have the opportunity to care for them properly.

It was no secret that of all the cities in Marley, Paradis was the one that had the biggest gang violence problem. Paradis was deemed as the headquarters for the infamous Titans gang, a group of thugs who were well-versed in politics and typically well-educated. One could never know that someone was a Titan, since they blended in so well to society.

There were rumors floating around that several larger corporations had Titans at the helm, working their way through the ranks in an attempt to have a better chance at being elected into political office. Their end goal was unclear - however, their violent acts and shady business dealings had escalated over the recent years.

Suddenly, businessmen who were in perfectly good health one day were turning up dead in a river the next. The same went for major political figures. Several big-name military men had been cut down in the streets and in their homes, to the point where the implications couldn't be ignored.

This was an all-out war.

Though Petra had been busy in nursing school at the time, she still vividly remembered Commander Erwin Smith’s case - since it had eventually led to the creation of the Survey Corps.

Erwin Smith had walked into his home one day after a long day of work, only to be attacked by a group of four masked Titans brandishing knives. While the Commander had lost an arm as a result of the poison on the blades that had come in contact with his arm, he was able to fight off all four assailants and come through the accident with a clear vision of what needed to be done.

This incident prompted the formation of the Survey Corps.

The Survey Corps was a group of former criminals who would have otherwise faced jail time or execution if they chose not to serve their government. The Commander's idea was that when it came to the Titans - one had to fight fire with fire. For him, the Survey Corps was his fire.

The men would be given a meager compensation in exchange for their loyalty, as well as a full pardon for the crimes they had committed in the past. All they had to do was promise their hearts to the cause.

Petra had always thought the venture sounded like a risky one. How could someone trust a criminal? If someone was willing to commit a crime once, wouldn’t they be willing to do it again? From what she had seen of the SC members who had been wheeled into the Emergency Room over the past few years, they looked more like thugs than the actual Titans themselves.

However, it appeared that that was the whole point.

The Survey Corps were used to obtain information about the Titans from the inside. To learn about the Titans, it seemed you had to act like one. Once inside, their goal was to negotiate deals with the underlings, who would then pass on the information to the SC in exchange for compensation. No surprise, though - these exchanges could turn deadly pretty quickly.

The young nurse couldn’t imagine how anyone could trust a criminal to infiltrate the enemy without the fear of them turning themselves - but from what she had heard, Commander Erwin Smith was a very good leader who kept a tight hold on all the men who worked under him.

Petra guessed as much since a good majority of them had small government-issued tracking devices located somewhere on their person - somewhere that they were unaware of, of course.

The woman had only ever seen an actual 'Wings of Freedom' tattoo once, and it was on the wrist of a body that was being rolled to the morgue past her in the hallway one day. The symbol was a sign of rank. Much like how the military operated, the Survey Corps themselves had a set of ranks that signaled a separation of powers within the group.

Only captains and the Commander himself were given the ‘honor’ of bearing the SC tattoo. The placement was purposeful, too - right on the wrist, where an opponent’s eyes would be drawn as they wielded their signature blades.

Suddenly, the behavior of the man made a lot more sense. He was a former thug - now, turned Captain of the Survey Corps.

The nature of Heidi’s injury also made a lot more sense now. She wasn’t victim to a few Titan pick-pockets on the street of Paradis. She was a victim to her father’s line of work.

She had been caught up in the crossfire.

"Miss Ral?" At the sound of the man's deep, gravelly voice, Petra looked up only to be met by a steely gray gaze. He had noticed where her eyes had fallen and had also deduced where her train of thought was drifting. "Are you ready to hand over the medicine?"

His tone was polite enough, not to alert Heidi to the mounting tension that seemed to build with every interaction the two adults had - but there was certainly an edge to it. He was pretty much daring her to ask questions.

Petra certainly was not taking the bait.

“Yes,” The woman responded, slowly. The smile that had fallen from her face at the sight of the man’s tattoo, returned as she warmly regarded her waiting patient. “Let’s get this over with!”

Neither father nor daughter caught the double meaning behind her words.

This shift could not go by fast enough.

After what she could only describe as ‘the longest 12-hour shift ever,’ Petra was ready to hit the sack and enjoy the next two days off.

It seemed like fate, though - had other plans.

"What?" The woman groaned as she pulled her time card out of the slot, her whine catching the attention of a few doctors passing by. Petra couldn't care less what they thought of her right now, she was exhausted - and the news Nanaba had given her was definitely less than welcome "There expediting Krista's maternity leave? Isn't she still like - I don't know - four months away from giving birth?!"

Nifa shook her head from her usual spot by the water tower, looking just about ready to fall over herself.

“Two months,” She reminded the frazzled ginger, chuckling at the groan her answer received. “It was bound to happen sooner or later with how faint she’s been - it just so happens that they made the call during a hospital-wide nursing shortage.”

Petra didn’t want to seem inconsiderate, but this news had really put a wrench in her plans - plans which had included nothing but cleaning and sleeping - but plans nonetheless! There were about a million other things she'd rather do than continue to cross paths with her patient's reticent father.

She had really thought that as the hours passed, his mood would perhaps lift and become a bit more pleasant - but no, things had only seemed to get worse.

While Heidi had slept most of the night, it was almost as if the dark-haired man was reluctant to close his eyes. No matter how many times Petra had walked in there over the past twelve hours, he never moved from his spot near the window. Even when Petra offered to help move the chair over closer to the wall so that he could see, he had glared at her as though she had outright insulted him.

Never had Petra felt so uncomfortable while tending to a patient and she had been doing this for years!

The worst instance of this was when she had gone to change Heidi's bandages over where her injury was. While she had tended to many injured patients before, she could feel a cold sweat breaking out along her hairline as she gently removed the bandages from the young girl's pale skin.

Every movement she made was subject to his intimidating glare - almost as though he was waiting to snap at her the second she made a wrong move. Though he was trying to hide it behind a wall of indifference, Petra could tell that he was on edge as she began to work on Heidi’s wound.

If one thing could be said, it was that Petra had never met a five-year-old quite like Heidi before. Though she remained silent for most of the night, the young woman could tell that she was highly intelligent and aware. Never before had she had a patient who was able to grit their teeth and fight their pain so well. Not even when her bandage got stuck on a small area of irritated skin did Heidi release a whimper.

Petra knew the whole process must have caused her a great deal of pain - however, like her father said, she was hellbent on acting tough.

It wasn’t until she got to the part of the cut that appeared to be the most severe that the child even happened to make a sound.

“Is that tender?” She had asked, but it was more of a formality. The lines of distress on the girl’s forehead told her all she needed to know. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

Heidi said nothing in response, but at her obvious signs of discomfort, her father shifted forward - hands still in his pockets, but his rigid posture showing that he wasn't nearly as indifferent as he tried to act.

Petra was suddenly aware of the man's eyes following the movements of her hands and - though she had done this in front of an audience many times - his attention made her more nervous than she had ever been before. Not only were his eyes watching her like a hawk's - but his body was also tilting forward , closer to her, to see exactly what she was doing.

Under such pressure, she panicked - something that was highly unlike her on a normal day.

With the man's eyes boring holes into her hands, her sweaty palms lost their grip on the bandage she had been trying to pull gently from the skin. Heidi's reaction was instantaneous.

While she had made little more than a whimper up to that point, when the bandage slipped from Petra's hand and the skin of her palm made contact with the stitches that lay over the girl's abdomen - a short, little whelp escaped from her lips at the pain.

If that didn’t have the nurse feeling bad enough, Heidi’s dad’s reaction almost had her crying.

While most parents would be understanding of such a small mistake - many not even realizing she had made one - because he had been watching her so closely, he had borne witness to her error. The shock on his face, expressed only by the raise of his brows and the slight opening of his mouth, soon morphed into something much more threatening - anger.

"Don't you know how to do your job?" The man seethed, glaring at her with the same eyes that had been watching her so closely moments before. While his voice was not loud, the quiet tone almost made it that much scarier. "Can't you see that your mistake has caused her pain?"

Petra didn’t know what else to do besides look at him like a gaping fish.

"Well - are you competent enough to continue your work, or should I request another nurse?"

“No sir,” The woman answered, quietly - in a sort of daze from the man’s unusual reaction. Though she thought he was going to argue some more with her - he instead leaned back against the wall next to Heidi’s bed and continued to watch her in silence, as though he hadn’t questioned her skill at all.

Petra rolled her shoulders back, steeling herself to do the same thing she had done a million times. She would not let this man get to her twice.

After apologizing to the small girl, who merely gave a meek nod in response, Petra finished removing the old bandage from her cut. Once the wound had been cleaned and rebandaged - the nurse hurriedly made herself scarce, barely giving the girl's father a second glance.

When she had left the room, her face had been flushed and she had felt as though she was going to cry - but after hearing the taunts from her friends at the desk, thinking she had had some kind of flirtation with her patient's father, she instead turned to the next room and prepared herself to tend to her other patients.

“Earth to Petra?” Nifa’s voice brought her back to the present, something she was grateful for. Though it had been a long shift, at least it was finally over. “So, are you going to cover Krista for the rest of the week?”

Petra groaned once again. She had forgotten why she had spaced out for so long in the first place - they wanted her to take on the night shift for an additional two days.

"Hey!" Nifa chirped, crossing the small distance that separated her from Petra, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "The good thing is you'll get almost a full week off if you finish all your hours now!"

"Yeah - " Petra agreed reluctantly, though her voice held little excitement. "But what good are hours off if I'm too exhausted to enjoy them?"

"All you do is clean, you neat freak! Don't act like it's going to spoil a hot date or something!"

Nanaba chuckled at Nifa's words, also reaching to pick up her card and clock out. "You know, she's not wrong."

Petra blushed at their goading. “How would you know?”

Both girls looked at her dubiously, their reaction causing Petra to blush an even deeper shade of red. Nifa shook her head, clucking her tongue in disappointment.

“I rest my case.”

“Oh, shove it!” Petra grabbed her bag from the floor, ready to leave the past 12-hour shift behind. “I’ll cover Krista’s damn shifts if it means I’ll get some time away from you weirdos next week.”

Nanaba rolled her eyes at Petra's dramatics, while Nifa simply laughed in response, also retrieving her bag from under the counter. Though both busied themselves by getting their stuff together to take home, neither missed the shameless smirk Petra sent over her shoulder.

“I guess this is the price one has to pay when they’ve been named the most satisfactory nurse on the ward.”

Now, this comment had both Nifa and Nanaba groaning, the girls rushing to catch up with Petra as she made her way to the stairwell.

The second day Petra was assigned to the Ackerman’s was just as strange as the first.

After getting a good 8-hour rest, the nurse entered the hospital with a renewed bounce in her step. The reason? She had pressed her uniform to perfection and had even pushed back her shoulder-length hair with a headband with not a hair out of place.

‘Let’s see what that man can find wrong with me now,’ Petra thought to herself as she clocked in for the day, only to be shocked by what she saw going on at Room 325 - Heidi Ackerman's room.

She could recognize the dark blue suits of the Military Police from a mile away.

Two men, one with long blonde hair and the other with a dark, crew cut, stood outside the girl's room, talking with Heidi's father. The men were speaking quietly to each other, the blonde one jotting down some notes onto a form he held in his hand.

It looked like a statement.

Not wanting to intrude, Petra double-checked Heidi's folder to make sure that she wasn't due for another dose of medication for another half an hour still. The day nurse had left several notes for the night nurse, describing the girl's progress. While she was still in a considerable amount of pain, her vitals had remained stable throughout the day. Now, the only thing they needed to worry about was the possibility of infection setting in at the sight of her would.

Petra made a mental note to remain extremely vigilant when it came to caring for the girl’s wound. The faster she healed, the faster she would be out of the ward.

'...and the faster her father could get the hell off of my floor.' Petra thought to herself, jotting down a few quick notes of her own, before closing the file and picking up the next.

By the time Petra arrived at Heidi's room, the MP's were long gone and the girl was sleeping peacefully in bed.

Upon entering the room with a glass of cherry juice already in hand, Petra braced herself for a rude comment or a deadly stare - but was surprised when she found that she was not on the receiving end of one.

Mr. Ackerman was still dressed in the same clothes he had worn the day before, his hair styled still to perfection, yet a bit greasier from the lack of a good washing. While his gaze was cold as ever as it moved from his daughter's slumbering form to the nurse as she entered the room, it wasn't nearly as intimidating as it had been before.

The man just looked tired.

Still, he stood by the lone window in the room, leaning against the ledge as if it was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Petra spared a glance towards the only chair in the room by Heidi's bedside and noticed that the pillow and blanket that she had left for him last night were still neatly folded and waiting to be used.

He had never slept. He had never even sat.

Petra's mouth popped open in surprise as she stood in the doorway, glass in hand. She wanted to say something but found that every time she tried to get the words out, they got stuck in her throat.

"Don't wake her up." It was the first words she had heard out of his mouth since entering, his tone as deep as it had been the day before, but weaker from lack of rest. He almost didn't look so much annoyed, as he did exasperated. "She's had a long few hours and was just now able to fall asleep."

At his request, Petra felt conflicted.

"It's time for her medicine." The woman insisted, talking quietly as she approached the girl's bedside, placing the glass of cherry red liquid onto the side table. "I'm worried that if she doesn't take it soon, she may wake up in pain."

The man considered her words, staring at her for a few moments before letting his gaze drop to the sleeping five-year-old in the hospital bed. The fact that he was even chewing over her statement had Petra reeling. While the day before, he had been questioning her methods - now he was actually taking her seriously.

The man sighed, pushing himself off from the wall he was leaning against.

“Could you wait twenty minutes?”

The words were spoken quietly, yet for the first time, they held no underlying rudeness. He seemed genuine in his request, his gray eyes boring into her's as he waited for an answer.

Petra was beginning to feel as though she was experiencing whiplash on the receiving end of his mood swings.

It was only in that moment, when he was making such direct eye contact with her, that she began to notice the slight shake of his stature, almost as though a short burst of chills were beginning to overcome his body. The sight was so strange, that Petra felt herself nodding at the man's request before she had even had a chance to think it over.

"Uh - " The young woman stuttered, trying desperately to find her voice. "I guess that would be alright?"

The man gave her a short nod of appreciation, his lips pressed in a thin line as he seemed to consider whether to say something else. Instead of asking any more questions though, he breezed past the young nurse and began to make his way to the door - something that caught Petra's attention, considering he had not left his daughter's room the entire time during her shift before.

"Wait!" She called out in surprise, though the volume of her voice surprised her. The man gave her a sharp look as he glanced over at the still slumbering child. After watching the rise and fall of her chest for a few long moments - he switched his gaze back to her, annoyance evident in the twist of his features.

And just like that, the same man from the day before was back.

"What?" He asked, as though it wasn't unusual for him to leave his daughter's room. In most cases, it wouldn't be strange for her patient's parents to leave their child unattended while they went to find some food or refreshments in the hospital, but this man had never done that before.

‘Maybe that’s why he wants her to stay asleep…’ Petra thought to herself, as she tried to think of what else she could say without sounding too nosy.

“Where are you going?”

Nice one, Ral.

The man scoffed, as though he believed her question didn't deserve an answer. Without responding, he turned back to the door and placed his shaking hand on the knob.

But Petra was surprised when, before leaving the room, he quietly called back over his shoulder.

“Would you mind keeping an eye on her for me, real quick? There’s something I need to do.”

Not waiting for her answer, the man was out the door before Petra's brain could even catch up to what he had been asking. However, when she realized what he had done, she found herself seething.

What did she look like - a babysitter?! She had other patients to be taking care of!

Though she knew that she had no real obligation to stay in Heidi’s room, there was something that had her sitting in the chair beside the bed, scooting the pillow and blankets out of the way to make herself more comfortable. She didn’t know what it was that kept her rooted in that spot, but she truly felt like she couldn’t leave the little girl.

A vision of the MP's quickly flashed through her mind.

It was that feeling of guilt that had her planted in the chair for the next twenty minutes - even though she had other patients to check on.

‘Oh well,’ Petra picked a piece of lint off the top sheet of the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Heidi’s small chest. ‘What are they gonna do? Fire me?’

Just as Petra was fantasizing about all the things she could do if her boss truly did fire her - Mr. Ackerman returned to the room.

The first thing the young ginger noticed about the man was that he held a large white bag in his hand - one that seemed to be from the hospital's gift shop. The second thing she noticed was that he held a mug of what looked like some kind of tea in his other hand.

The third thing she noticed was that he reeked of smoke. With this knowledge, Petra could feel her face heat up in annoyance.

Now the shaking of his body and hands made sense - he had been going through withdrawals.

“You left me in here to tend to your daughter while you went and had a smoke?” The nurse stood from her spot in the chair, quietly chastising the man as he walked through the door. “Don’t you know those things can kill you?”

After having gotten his fix of nicotine, the man was back to his usual pleasant self. Before Petra could even think of what else to say, his eyes flashed towards her in contempt.

"Don't you know how to mind your own business?"

At such a rude response, Petra threw caution to the wind, sick of the man's attitude. Not caring whether Heidi woke up at this point or not, she stormed over to the dark-haired man, pointing a single finger into his chest. At least the man had the nerve to look surprised.

“Listen here - “ Petra dug her finger further into his hard chest, the fabric of his white shirt wrinkling as she tapped him once more for good measure. “Your daughter is currently my patient, Mr. Ackerman. So yes, your health is a part of my business now. What I’d like to know is how you think you're going to take care of your child on nothing but cigarettes and tea? Did you even eat while you were gone?”

The man raised a brow at her tirade, still shocked at the fact that the small redhead had had the nerve to speak to him like that. He definitely wasn’t used to it.

"Well, did you?" She asked again, demanding an answer, sticking him in the chest with a finely manicured finger once more.

What the man did next, nearly floored the poor girl for what felt like the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours. He smirked.

That damn infuriating smirk again!

Before she could repeat her question, the Survey Corps member grabbed the finger that was currently poking his chest, pushing her hand down while the infuriating smirk on his face only grew bigger.

"No," He said simply, as though he had not a care in the world. Petra could tell by the challenge in his eyes that he was eagerly waiting to see how she would respond.

Almost as though it was a game to him. Well, Petra was perfectly ready to play.

Pulling her hand out of his hold, the woman crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at him as he continued to smirk down at her. While he had shaken her the day before, she had become familiar enough with him to know that he only seemed to respond positively to her when she was actively challenging him.

What was he - a masochist?

“Lucky for you I have a wide array of crackers to offer you.” Petra smiled sweetly, watching as the man’s brows rose at the sound of her tone. “What would your flavor of choice be - cheese or peanut butter?”

“Neither, I - ,”

“Oh!” She cut him off, tapping him once again on the chest, knowing that this seemed to annoy him greatly just a few moments ago. “I’m sorry but ‘neither’ doesn’t seem to be a flavor - try again!”

The man's brows rose even higher at her continued teasing. "What if I'm allergic to peanut butter and cheese?"

Petra was anticipating such an answer, her arms once again crossing over her chest as she puffed it out with pride, knowing that this was an argument she had already won. "Then I guess I get to pick your poison."

They stared at each other in silence, neither intending to back down. Finally, the older Ackerman broke.

The man chuckled. Not a pity chuckle, either - but a real, amused chuckle. Though it may have been quiet, Petra couldn't conceal the pride that swelled up in her chest at having broken through at least one of the man's self-made barriers.

They didn't call her the best nurse for nothing!

"Alright, alright…" He finally conceded, no longer chuckling - but still keeping that mysterious smirk on his face. "I'll eat something, but no crackers."

Petra’s brow rose at this. “Why not? Isn’t that the most universal snack there is?”

“They’re too messy.”

The woman had to stop herself from giggling at the look of annoyance that passed over the man’s face. It seemed they at least had one thing in common - Petra absolutely hated a mess.

“An apple?”

The man shrugged noncommittally. Petra took this as confirmation that the fruit would do.

“Daddy?”

The feeble call from the bed had both of the adults turning, their eyes falling on the once slumbering girl who still lay propped up against the pillows. Though she had only said one word, Petra could tell from the look on her face that she had been woken from her sleep by some kind of pain.

The girl’s father hummed in response, acknowledging that he had heard her. Not wasting a moment and with a new pep in his step from his smoke break, the Survey Corps member approached his daughter’s bedside, placing his tea down by the glass of juice that still lay on the bedside table.

It was when the girl glanced over at the juice and then at the door, that she noticed the short nurse who was also now standing in her room. Petra liked to imagine that the girl’s face had lit up a bit at the sight of her, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think that it was anything other than the prospect of juice that had her glowing.

Heidi, much like her father though, surprised her.

"Hi, Miss Petra," The girl said in that sweet tone of her, her words still shy, but definitely more confident than from the night before. "Is it time for my medicine?"

Petra smiled in encouragement, joining the girl’s father at the side of her bed. “Yes, it is. Are you in any pain?”

Once again, the child looked up at her father - but, instead of waiting for some kind of input from him, she turned back to the nurse and answered for herself.

“Just a little.”

While her answer was not nearly as descriptive as Petra would have liked, the woman knew that this was probably the best she was going to get out of the child. With a tough-as-nails father by her side, the little girl was never going to give a true indication of how she was truly feeling. To do so would be to admit defeat in her eyes.

It was sad to an extent, but having grown up with a single dad herself - something she was assuming based on the fact that Petra had yet to see a mother stop by for a visit to Heidi's room - she knew how important it was to show them that their little girls were strong enough to handle themselves.

Petra’s respect for the precocious five-year-old just continued to grow as she spent more time with her.

After the nurse had given the girl her pills and had made sure that they went down easily, she reviewed Heidi’s vitals one more time before promising to return in the next hour.

Before she could make it out the door though, she turned to face the girl’s father one last time.

“I’ll be bringing you an apple, Mr. Ackerman,” She called back to him, watching as his gaze drifted upwards to meet her’s. “- and I’ll be expecting you to eat it.”

“Levi.”

The response was so quick and unexpected that it had Petra quieting immediately. Seeing the look of confusion written across her face, one side of the man's mouth quirked up in a half-smile. He sighed, shaking his head before closing his eyes in exasperation.

When he opened them again, there was a softer look there than there had been before.

“My name’s Levi. Stop it with that Mr. Ackerman stuff.”

Even Heidi chuckled from her place in the bed at the sound of such a formal name for her father. Once Petra had collected her wits, she gave a short nod in response.

"Levi, then."

Without wasting another second, the woman turned from the room - shutting the door close with more force than what she had intended to.

Her face was burning as she walked away from the room - and for the first time since she had been assigned to the patient in Room 325 - it wasn't from shame.

It was nearly an hour and a half later that she was finally able to return to Heidi’s room to check on the girl. With an apple in hand, the woman pushed open the door quietly, just in case the little girl had happened to fall back asleep.

The scene that lay before her, had her pausing in the open doorway in wonder.

Levi Ackerman was sitting. Not only was he sitting, but he was reading - and from a children’s book, nonetheless!

The white bag from earlier lay at his feet, the contents of it having been removed. While it had been puffed up quite large only an hour before, it now sat deflated on the cold tile of the hospital floor. Petra couldn't imagine that a few children's books from the gift shop would make a bag look that full, and she was right to assume that.

The reason the bag had looked so full was currently resting in the happy little hands of one Miss Heidi Ackerman in the form of a very large, stuffed teddy bear.

"Then Mr. Owl asked Mr. Bear if he could borrow a few - ," Petra listened to the smooth voice of the man who had nearly made her cry the day before, no rudeness left in his tone as he read to a very captive audience.

"Daddy, why would he ask to borrow something that he could never give back?' Heidi asked from her hospital bed, fully engaged in the story. Whether it was consciously or not, she hugged her bear a little tighter to herself as she turned onto her side to regard her father.

The man gave her a small, patient smile. "It's an expression, Heidi. Mr. Owl is going to eat the carrots, of course - so I'm sure hoping he's not planning on regurgitating them and giving them back to Mr. Bear. Mr. Bear is letting Mr. Owl have something without the guarantee of ever receiving it back or something in return."

“Then it’s not borrowing.”

Her father shrugged, his eyes turning back to the page in front of him. "Not really, I guess."

Before the man could pick up where he'd left off - Heidi cut him off once more.

“Daddy, I don’t think owls actually eat carrots.”

“Are you going to let me finish the story, brat?” The man gazed at her over the top of the book, annoyance creeping into his tone after having been interrupted for the second time. “Or do I need to read from the dictionary in order to please you?”

While Petra had been shocked when he had referred to his daughter as "brat" the night before, she would have to be deaf to not hear the endearment that lay hidden in his tone. He said it so gently - as though it was meant as an affectionate tease more than an insult.

Heidi certainly wasn’t offended by it if her sweet little laugh was any indication of how she was feeling.

“Daddy!” She whined, hugging her bear even tighter. “No dictionary! I want animal stories!”

“Then sit back and enjoy the damn book, instead of overanalyzing everything.”

Heidi’s eyes widened in shock, her small mouth forming an ‘o’ at her father’s choice of words. “Daddy, you swore.”

The man twisted his lips, trying his best to hide his face behind the children's book that he held in his hands.

“I heard you! You’re going to have to put change in the swear jar at home!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Heidi smiled brightly at her father. "Nuh-uh, it's a deal! I'm going to be rich!"

“Heidi,” Levi raised one dark brow towards the girl, his tone darkening with warning as she continued to get louder. “You need to be quiet.”

At her father’s admonishment, the child’s face fell, her bright smile falling swiftly off her features. Petra made a movement to jump in - anything to bring that sweet expression back to the darling girl’s face - but was stopped by the man’s voice chiming in once again.

“ - and besides, you only have two dollars. That’s barely enough to call yourself rich.”

While most children would have balked at Levi's use of blunt humor, Heidi - who must have been used to it by now - began to giggle once more, the bright smile from just moments before, returning to her face. Petra was even surprised to find that the man was wearing one of his own now.

"It's almost enough to buy a chocolate bar." Heidi insisted as if the candy was the most precious thing in the world.

Petra had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from laughing out loud. From her spot in the doorway, the nurse's shoulders trembled in quiet amusement. This little girl was something else - and, from what she had seen over the past few minutes, so was her father.

"Now you see, Miss Ral?" The question had her pausing mid-shake, her amusement slowly fading now that she had been caught. "I told you sweets would be her downfall."

Petra could feel her cheeks heating up. She had just been caught eavesdropping - how unprofessional could she be?

Opening the door all the way, the woman stepped fully into the room, apple still in hand. While Heidi certainly seemed to quiet as the woman entered the room, the smile on her face did not fade.

While she had thought the older Ackerman would look at her in contempt for having the gall to eavesdrop on him, during what she would call a very intimate family moment, he instead looked over at her with a slight quirk in his brow.

“ - and eavesdropping will be yours.”

Without saying another word, the man placed the children’s book on top of the bedside table, where Petra could now see an entire stack had been laid. Next to it, a small cat plush sat, almost as though watching over the mountain of books that now stood beside it. Before the nurse could make any comments in regards to his gift shop purchases, the man stuck out his hand.

Petra just stared at him in confusion.

Levi gave her a less than impressed look. “My apple, Miss Ral?”

If Petra had thought her face had been burning before, it was nothing compared to now.

A few hours passed uneventfully in the pediatric ward. That was one thing Petra had always enjoyed about the night shift - there was a certain calm in the air that seemed to hang over the 3rd floor of the hospital. A child would cry out in pain, only to be shushed a few moments later by comfort or medicine - or a buzzer would go off, signaling that someone needed assistance.

Other than that, the ward pretty much always stayed quiet in the late night to early morning hours of the day and Room 325 was no exception to this.

Heidi was snoozing peacefully as Petra made her rounds once again to check on the girl. After having received her last dose of medication until morning, the girl had lost her battle against sleep. She had fought valiantly - wanting to stay up and continue listening to the stories being told by her father - but after several hours and retellings of the same stories over and over, she was finally out for the night.

While Petra hated to disturb the girl's sleep, it was pertinent that she clean her wound every few hours to keep the infection from setting in. Though the girl was already taking oral antibiotics, the nurse knew that it was better to be safe than sorry when it came to wounds.

In an attempt to be as stealthy as possible, Petra quietly entered the dimly lit room of Heidi Ackerman, careful not to make any noise as she closed the door behind her.

Giving her eyes time to adjust to the lack of lighting in the room, Petra squinted while looking over at the chair.

There sat Levi, bloody clothes and all, by his daughter's bed and still wide awake despite his obvious exhaustion. Petra had given up hours ago on telling him to get some sleep, learning quickly that even without an injured child the man was a terrible insomniac.

However, she couldn't help but be concerned when it came to the man's state of mind. How on earth was he supposed to tend to his child when he wasn't willing to rest himself?

"Oi, stop lurking in the doorway." A ragged voice called from the chair, his eyes never drifting from Heidi's face. Even without looking, he seemed to just know she was there. it must have been a Survey Corps thing. “She’s out for the night, so there’s no need to sneak around as if the smallest noise is going to wake her up.”

Petra blushed at the call-out, stepping fully into the dim light of the room, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to change her bandages."

The man grunted in acknowledgment, shrugging his shoulders. "It can't be helped. Several more hours of reading from 'Mr. Owl's Adventures' sounds like a decent penance to me."

Though Petra found herself chuckling at the man's dry wit, she couldn't help but notice the strain in his voice that spoke of some underlying guilt she was not privy to. Trying to lighten the mood, she moved closer to Heidi's bedside, bandages already in hand and a soft smile on her features.

"Count yourself lucky," The woman bristled, reaching into her pocket for a disinfectant wipe. "You could be changing dirty bandages and bedpans for the rest of the night. I think I would choose Mr. Owl over that, any day."

While she hadn't expected the man to laugh at her remark, she wasn't expecting him to sober so quickly either.

He watched as she placed the packet of disinfectant wipes down on the table, her hands moving to the bandages to ready them for placement. The night before, she had found his gaze unnerving - now, however, he seemed to be pondering her actions more than looking for something that she was doing wrong.

“Could you show me how to change her bandages?”

Petra couldn't hide the shock that flooded her features at the quiet request. The words were spoken so softly that she questioned whether she had even heard them.

“Huh?” She heard herself ask, pausing mid-action.

Levi's face held its usual passive expression - but, when Petra looked closely, she could see the skin of his neck turning red underneath the hairs of his undercut.

The man was blushing.

Petra had little time to be amazed before he was speaking again.

"I tried watching you last night and when the nurse did it this morning," The man confessed, his voice tight as though he felt ashamed for admitting it. "But I want to make sure I know how to do it right since I'm the one who's going to be doing it at home."

Suddenly, his attentiveness to her actions during her prior shift made a lot more sense.

While she had thought he had been watching her closely to see if she made any mistakes while changing Heidi's bandages, he was really just trying to learn how to do it himself. So the reason he must have been so grouchy when she had made that one mistake, was because he was frustrated not only with her but with himself for having to seek out someone's help.

Man, she had misjudged him terribly in that moment.

Knowing that it was hard for the man to admit he needed guidance - Petra gave him a small but encouraging smile.

"I can show you," The woman gestured for him to come closer to the bed so that he could see better. "This is the perfect time, actually since I'm going to be doing it really slow, so that we don't wake her."

Petra tried to calm the furious beating of her heart as the man rose from his chair and made his way over to her side. This was the closest she had ever been to him, even closer than when she had gotten up in his face earlier. From this vantage point, she could see the dark stubble that now lined his cheeks and the puffy bags that seemed to permanently reside under his eyes.

The man was starting to look a bit ragged. However, no amount of exhaustion could dull the look of determination in his eyes.

Petra took her time, carefully peeling back the bandages that sat across Heidi's abdomen. Levi watched closely as she worked her finger under the sticky material at a particularly irritated patch of skin. While Heidi mumbled a few incoherent words in her sleep and turned her head to the side in agitation, she remained unconscious as Petra continued to work on her wound.

The nurse quietly explained proper wound care, as she cleaned around the stitches that lay on the girl's stomach. Levi nodded in acknowledgment to each of her points, his steely gaze never leaving her hands.

The whole process took about ten minutes, much longer than usual, but Petra felt like it had taken a hundred years.

The man was just so close and it was distracting.

Despite being flustered by his proximity and rapt attention, Petra was able to successfully clean and re-bandage the wound.

She ripped the end of the last piece of tape needed for the girl's skin, gently patting it down with soft pressing motions. "So, that's all there is to it."

Levi nodded, the wheels in his head turning as he tried to internalize everything he had just seen.

It struck Petra as odd that he needed such guidance from her when his line of work surely included some bumps and nicks over time. Almost as if he could guess her train of thought, the man answered her unspoken question.

"I've had to treat my own wounds before," He admitted quietly, eyes glued to the area of Heidi's stomach where her injury lay. " - but I've never had to treat a child's. I just want to make sure I do it right."

Petra gave him a sympathetic smile, placing the roll of tape back on the table. "It really isn't that much different from dressing your own wounds."

Levi's eyes darkened at her words, his tone shifting. "It is different."

The young woman watched as the man's eyes drifted back up to Heidi's peaceful face, her small pink lips opened in an 'o' as little breaths escaped between them. From a hardened gaze, the Survey Corps member's eyes softened at the sight of his slumbering daughter.

“What happened?”

Petra didn't know what had come over her, but at the man's words and expression, she couldn't help but speak out of curiosity. While the girl's file had said she had been cut by a blade that had been laced with poison, it hadn't said any more than that. She figured that Heidi had been caught up in a crossfire, but she couldn't be too sure.

She wanted to know what had caused her patient so much pain - and she also wanted to know what it was that was causing the girl's father so much guilt.

Petra had not expected much in ways of a response, figuring that the man would tell her to mind her own business. She was surprised when, instead of snapping at her in anger, Levi sighed and crossed his arms over his chest in defeat. She could see his reluctance to share in the rigid way he stood, but could also see in the way he rolled his lips inwards, that there was a part of him that wanted to tell someone what happened.

"They broke into my home when it wasn't there." The man admitted quietly, a quick rush of breath leaving him as he resigned himself to share with Petra the details behind the incident. "Heidi knows not to open the door to strangers, so when they came knocking, she hid - but they knew she was there. They had been watching."

"The Titans?" Petra asked in a whisper. Levi nodded.

The man sighed, his eyes cutting back to his daughter’s face. “One of my men had heard through our line of communication that The Titans were planning on laying siege to my house - however, it had been kept under wraps for as long as possible to keep the plan from getting back to me.”

Levi's face darkened, his thin lips pressing together as his eyes took on a faraway look - like he was being transported back in time.

"Unlucky for them," The man continued, his tone growing terser as time went on. "I found out and was able to intercept the attack."

Petra watched as the man’s focus drew back to the present, his steely gaze never leaving his daughter. “But not before Heidi could get hurt.”

Levi ran a single hand through his hair, the action causing the arm of his jacket to rise and the ‘Wings of Freedom’ tattoo to be exposed.

"There were six of them at the house," Levi admitted, not even pausing when this information called forth a gasp from Petra. "I cut down every single one of them."

At the dark look on his face, the nurse could feel herself gulp in fear. The same intimidating man whom she had encountered the night before during her first shift was suddenly making an appearance once again. His behavior - however, made more sense now. He had been reticent and ready to snap, not just because his daughter had been injured, but because he had just murdered six men.

Petra also realized that the blood that lay splattered across the man’s white shirt was, more than likely, not just Heidi's. While the news had Petra suppressing a shiver, she didn't interrupt him as he continued with his story.

"When I realized the blade had been laced with poison, I rushed Heidi here." He glanced over at her now, his gaze watching her carefully as he analyzed her reaction. "Then a few hours later, we met you."

Petra didn't know what to say - half of her had expected the story to be something like that, but also half of her wishing it hadn't. She was outright conflicted.

"She had been alone?" She heard herself ask through the whooshing in her ears. Her head was spinning from all the new information.

Levi nodded. "I can't afford to send her anywhere. She's always alone."

Though Petra tried to hide her surprise, she couldn't conceal it quick enough for his all-seeing eyes.

"She has no mother." Levi admitted though Petra had deduced as much. "The woman dropped her off on my doorstep years ago without so much as a word - so I'm all she has."

"That's horrible." While it was an understatement, to be sure, it was all Petra could think of in response. At least it was able to draw a dry chuckle from the man.

“I guess you could say that.”

Not knowing how to dispel the tension that currently lay in the air, Petra turned to continue cleaning up the used bandages from the side table, disposing of them in the trash while she continued to think of what to say.

Noticing her unease, Levi sighed. "I didn't tell you all of this to make you feel awkward. You did ask, you know?"

"I don't feel awkward!" Petra insisted although she knew it was a fib. She rolled up the gauze that she had neglected to use while trying to choose her words carefully. "I'm just not sure what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," The man said, walking back around to the other side of the bed. His eyes drifted to the children's books that lay stacked on the side of the bed. "It's the ways things are and the way they will always be. All I can do is ensure that none of my decisions from here on out will infringe on her safety.'

Petra nodded. “I guess you're right.”

The room was quiet as Petra continued to bustle about. She fluffed Heidi's pillows a few more times, before reviewing the young girl's vitals. She didn't know what it was, but despite the tense atmosphere that lay heavy over the room, she really didn't want to leave.

No matter what she wanted though, she knew she had other patients to see.

Before she left, a thought came to her as she reached for the handle on the door. She remembered at the start of her shift that Levi had only taken leave of his daughter's room when Petra was guaranteed to be there and keep watch. The circumstance had Petra pausing.

Was that why he hadn’t bothered to go home and change yet?

Petra could see that the man needed a good shower and a fresh pair of clothes - but, after hearing about what happened, she highly doubted he was willing to leave the hospital while his daughter was still in such a vulnerable state.

She didn’t know what came over her, but suddenly she was speaking.

“I get off in a few hours. Do you want me to sit with Heidi while you go home and change?”

Her offer caused the man to turn his head, his eyes gazing at her warily. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know you probably need your rest.”

Petra shook her head. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing.”

"I couldn't -,"

"No offense," Petra finally said, her arms crossing over her chest in an act of defiance. " - but you are starting to look rough.”

This caused one side of the man’s mouth to quirk up. “I’m just now starting to? I thought surely when I walked in covered in blood yesterday that I looked about as rough as I could.”

“Well, then I guess you’ve been proven wrong.”

Levi shook his head. “I’m not leaving. Besides, I have nowhere to go. My home is a crime scene, remember?”

"You can use my apartment." The words had left Petra's mouth before she even had time to think. At the suggestion, she could feel her face heating up, but she continued speaking anyway. "Go at least take a shower - please."

This had the man's brows raising to his hairline.

"You would let a man who just murdered six people take a shower in your home?"

Petra shrugged. “Yeah, I mean as long as you promise not to mess with anything.”

“You’re damned crazy.”

"Yeah, maybe," Petra conceded, but her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. "But it's better than being stinky. I'm going to get a shirt from the lost and found for you to take. My shift is over in three hours, so try to at least get some rest before it's my turn to watch Heidi."

Without waiting for a response, Petra exited the room in a flurry of white fabric and frazzled nerves, missing the smirk that followed her actions as she hurriedly exited through the door.

- True to her word, Petra had returned to Heidi's room after clocking out. The woman handed the older Ackerman a piece of paper with her address, a key, and a plain white t-shirt - before practically pushing him out of the room.

Not allowing any chance of negotiation, Petra slammed the door behind him, fighting the urge to actually lock it.

Now fully awake, Heidi giggled at the sight of the young woman bossing her otherwise intimidating father around. The sound had Petra smiling, too. Though she was tired, she was looking forward to spending a bit of downtime with the girl.

During the hour and a half that Levi was gone, Petra learned many things about Miss Heidi Ackerman.

She was born in late September and couldn't wait for the Summer to be over so that she could finally be six. Her favorite thing to learn about was animals - hence, why her father always bought her stories with animal characters rather than humans. She had named the big teddy bear her father had gotten her, Felix, after a cat character with the same name that existed in one of the storybooks her dad had once read to her.

While it wasn’t new information, Petra was struck once again by how intelligent the little girl was.

Heidi shared with her the process of her daily routine - how she woke up in the morning to find a bowl of cereal already sitting ready for her at the table. Though her father was usually gone by this time, he always left a note telling her what time he would be home and reminded her to never open the door to strangers. After reading the note, she would do a few chores around the house - she loved sweeping - and even had her own little broom that matched her father's so that on the weekends they could clean the floors together.

While Petra imagined such an existence would be a sad one - being all alone in a house all day, especially, at such a young age - Heidi didn't seem particularly bothered by it.

"When Daddy gets home in the afternoon, he always cooks me something yummy for dinner," Heidi's voice held all the wonderment of a child, who was properly spoiled by her father. "Uncle Erwin even sometimes comes over and eats with us. He can toss me up in the air really high! Higher than Daddy!"

Petra found herself chuckling at this. “Oh, really?”

Heidi nodded excitedly, her cheeks flushed from the conversation and probably what was still a bit of residual pain. Despite this, she continued chatting as though she couldn't be bothered.

Petra felt her heart warm as the girl slowly began to open up more and more to her - remembering how quiet she had been during the first time she had attended to her.

It was as though the child that sat before her now was a completely different person from the one before. While she could probably blame some of that on the young girl's injury - a bigger portion of it was just that it probably took the girl time to warm up to people.

‘Much like her father,’ Petra supposed.

By the time Levi returned, both his daughter and the nurse were sat up in the hospital bed, the scene causing him to pause in the doorway.

Petra had sat herself behind Heidi, allowing the girl to lean back on her legs and chest in a reclining position. The nurse’s hands were working through the girl’s hair, her deft fingers twirling the long dark strands into a simple braid.

“I’ve always wanted a braid!” Heidi shared, squeezing her bear close to her chest. “I’m so excited! I hope it looks pretty.”

“Oh, it looks very pretty," Petra insisted, her light, chestnut eyes finally drifting towards the man that stood in the door. Her lips quirked up in a small smirk. "Doesn't it, Mr. Levi?"

Fighting the urge to groan at the use of mister before his name, the man closed the door to the hallway behind him before stepping fully into the room. "Oh yes - very pretty."

At his insistence, Heidi giggled - her little cheeks flushed now from the compliments.

Once the girl was situated back on her pillows - chatting with her bear about all the hairstyles she'd like to try to learn to do in the future - Petra turned to Heidi's dad, giving him a smile of appreciation.

Instead of wearing the t-shirt she had retrieved from him, he was wearing a dark blue one with the hospital logo that they sold in the gift shop. The woman had to smirk when she saw that.

"What are you - a germaphobe?" She couldn't help but ask, remembering the wary look he had had on his face when she had handed the used t-shirt over. Though she couldn't blame him, being very particular about things like that herself, she couldn't hold back a laugh.

Levi shrugged. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

They stood there for a few silent beats, the only sound between them being that of Heidi's quiet voice as she chatted to Felix, the teddy bear. Finally, Levi pulled his hand out of his pocket, her key shining in his hand.

Petra held out her hand to receive it.

"Thank you for your hospitality." The man drawled, placing the object in the middle of her palm, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips. "Your lodgings were adequate enough, I guess."

After having heard from Heidi herself in the past hour of how her dad was a self-proclaimed 'clean freak' - the woman was not surprised at such a comment. In fact, knowing what she did now, it made her quietly chuckle.

“I’m glad.”

Petra called over her shoulder to Heidi that she would be back on the night shift in just a few hours, the girl happily waved at her as the woman made her way to the door. Knowing that she only had one more 12-hour shift for the week, the young nurse moved with a slight bounce in her step.

The realization that she probably only had one more night to spend with Heidi and her father had her pausing though.

Shaking her head, she attempted to rid her mind of the thought. She wasn't one to get attached to her patients and she definitely wouldn't start now.

Still, there was something in her heart that tugged every time she thought of Heidi’s sweet little face. Not only that, but the tug worsened every time she thought of Levi’s.

‘I need some sleep,’ She lamented to herself as she continued her way down the stairs.

Yes, sleep was all she needed.

Upon arriving on the 3rd floor for her fourth shift of the week, but third with Heidi, Petra was surprised to see the one and only, Erwin Smith exiting the room of her favorite patient.

She guessed she shouldn't be surprised by the appearance of the blonde man - given how much Heidi talked about him - however, what did surprise her was the grave expression present on his features. While not one to fear the worst, the furrow between his brows and the thin line of his lips had her heart sinking, just a bit.

After confirming with the day nurse that nothing had changed in Heidi's condition, Petra was able to breathe easier. Apparently, in the last hour, Dr. Shadis had even cleared the girl to return home whenever she pleased - however, both the Commander and Levi had convinced the doctor to extend her hospital stay by one day.

The day nurse said she had no idea what the reasoning was behind it but Petra had a good idea.

‘My home is a crime scene.’ Levi had said earlier in response to her pressures for him to go home and shower. The truth of the matter was, Petra feared that neither Levi nor Heidi had anywhere to go.

With that in mind, she entered the girl's room for her first round of medication with a slight hesitance in her gait.

Whatever nerves she had been feeling though dissipated at the sight of Heidi's joyful face.

"Miss Petra!" The girl exclaimed from her place in bed, arms wrapped around her teddy bear and now a large monkey plushie too. "Look what Uncle Erwin brought me!"

The woman was about to respond when a sort of grumbling coming from the direction of the chair caught her attention. Levi had his chin in his hand, his eyes glaring at the plush kitty that still sat on the bedside table untouched. Petra could see a hint of jealousy in his actions.

Dare she call it - adorable?

Though his mutterings weren't all that caught the woman's attention. The man had a whole new change of clothes on, the hospital t-shirt now stuffed away in the white bag that lay by his feet.

The commander must have brought him an extra pair of clothes.

Realizing that she hadn't ever answered Heidi's cheer, Petra smiled at the child who lay in the hospital bed. "Well isn't that a lovely surprise?"

Heidi nodded excitedly, hugging her plushies closer to her. “I think I’m going to name him Beast.”

"That's a lovely name," The nurse agreed, laughing quietly as she watched the girl's father roll his eyes. Despite the current levity in the atmosphere, the woman knew she wasn't going to be able to keep her mouth shut much longer.

Placing the cup of juice she had brought with her down on the bedside table, she busied herself preparing Heidi’s medication as she thought of how to brooch the topic.

“So, I heard Heidi’s been cleared to return home?”

Levi was silent for a moment, but she soon heard a grunt behind her. “It would appear that way.”

“I heard Dr. Shadis approved her for one more night in our care?”

Levi hummed in response, not saying anything more as the woman continued to arrange the pills. Her hands paused as she got to Heidi’s sleep medication.

“Will you be staying with Commander Erwin?”

At her question, the man remained silent - watching as Petra assisted Heidi with taking her pills. Always a brave patient, the girl barely grimaced as the nasty medication tumbled down her throat. When it was all over, the five-year-old simply laid back on her pillows, picking up right where she left off with her two stuffed animals.

It took Levi so long to respond that Petra figured he wouldn't say anything more on the subject - however, his quiet answer came soon enough, a sort of bitterness in his tone.

"No, we can't," He spat out, a rare show of his old reticence shining through. Petra could tell that it wasn't directed at her, though - it was more so in response to the situation. "Erwin thinks it's a bad idea for us to stay with anyone who's a part of the Survey Corps. If they had my address, who's to say they don't have any others?"

Petra had guessed this was the case by the way Commander Erwin had looked upon leaving the room. It was the look of a man who was used to solving problems, who just couldn't seem to solve this one.

Levi continued, missing the pensive look that settled across Petra's features. "He's trying to find somewhere cheap that we could stay, but at the end of the day, the Corps don't receive much funding. I barely make enough to pay for the place we have now and I'm still going to have to pay for it until my lease is up."

“You don’t think you’ll be able to go back after everything is cleaned up?” Petra asked, the wheels still turning in her head. Levi released a dry chuckle at the suggestion.

"I'm not going to make the brat stay in a home where she was almost killed. I may be a monster, but even I have more compassion than that." He spoke quietly, aware that Heidi was still very much awake and able to hear their conversation.

"There's no one you could reach out to and stay with?"

Levi laughed bitterly, once again. "The only people I know are either a part of the Survey Corps or thugs themselves, my options are pretty slim."

Petra nodded, quietly mulling over his words.

After a few moments, she made the offer she had entered the room willing to make.

“Why don’t you stay with me?”

Levi's brows rose, a look of mild shock commanding his features. Feeling uneasy from his reaction, Petra began to ramble in order to fill the awkward silence.

“I mean -,” She cleared her throat, hating how the words had come out as a mere squeak. “You said my lodgings were adequate, right?”

"Well, yes. But -,"

"I certainly wouldn't mind it - and you wouldn't have to pay me rent or anything! All I would need is maybe a little bit of money for groceries since I barely have any - and - uh - and I'm barely home anyway since I work so much, so it would probably be just like living alone!" The words left Petra in a rush, her brain working faster than her mouth as she tried to convince him that this option wouldn't be so bad. "I'm a pretty clean person, so you wouldn't have to worry about -,"

“Could you shut your damn mouth for a second?!”

The low growl of his voice had Petra pausing mid-ramble, her mouth hanging open as the man in the chair cleared his throat, in an attempt to get emotions back under control.

When he spoke again, his tone was even, incredulity evident in his words. "You really expect me to accept such charity?"

Petra closed her mouth, shrugging meekly. “I mean, do you have any other options?”

"Yeah, the street." The nurse found herself rolling her eyes at his words.

"What happened to not allowing any danger to fall upon your daughter again?" Petra asked, remembering their conversation from before. While the man's eyes flashed in anger at her implication, the woman didn't stop there. "Do you really think the safest place for your daughter currently is on the streets?”

The man was silent again.

“I can’t pay you.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“I hate charity.”

"This isn't charity." Petra insisted, meeting his steely gaze with one of her own. "I'm honestly being selfish. I don't think I could sleep at night knowing that the two of you ended up on the streets when I could have helped.'

“Why would you do that for people you barely know?”

"I don't know," Petra answered, honestly - her eyes drifting to where Heidi lay still unaware of the serious conversation taking place next to her. "But something inside of me is telling me that it's the right thing to do."

Levi stared at her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"So you would offer up your home to two strangers just because your heart is telling you to?”

While his comment was snide, Petra refused to back down. "And you would offer up your life to a cause that will most likely get you killed in the end? It seems like neither of us is very responsible when it comes to where our hearts lie."

The man couldn’t argue with that.

The room descended into a suffocating silence for a few moments, before Levi spoke again.

"What about Heidi?" He asked. "She stays home alone all day. Are you okay with a child residing by themselves in your apartment?"

"Not really," Petra admitted, though she had already thought about this. "But my friend who lives down the hall runs a daycare out of her home. I'm sure if I explained the circumstances, she would be willing to make an exception and let Heidi stay with her when you or I can't be at home."

Levi sighed, realizing she had thought this out a lot more than he had expected. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“Nope.” Petra smiled brightly, knowing that he was close to admitting defeat.

The man looked once more towards his daughter, who was now rubbing her tired eyes as she tried to win the battle against sleep.

“Fine.” He begrudgingly agreed, refusing to make eye contact with the now ecstatic ginger.

"Perfect!" The woman nearly exclaimed with glee - however, she kept her reaction quiet, aware of the presence of Heidi who was almost in the throes of sleep. "Leave all the planning to me. Heidi was cleared to stay one more night - so, once I finish my shift, I'll go home and get everything prepared for her discharge tomorrow afternoon."

Levi nodded, still not exactly happy about the situation.

"Don't think you're going to be able to stand around and mope, either," Petra warned, pulling the blanket up higher on Heidi's chest, the girl finally losing the battle against her eyelids. "I'm doing this because I want to, so I won't have you feeling guilty.

Levi shook his head, a smirk appearing on his features. "You're crazy."

"Maybe," Petra shrugged.

After picking up the empty glass of juice from the girl's bedside, Petra decided to take her leave, ready to attend to her other patients.

Before leaving the room, she turned back towards Levi, still sat in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

"We're going to figure this out," Petra assured him as she exited the room, smiling as he turned his face towards her - a look of apprehension on his features. "You, me, and Heidi - it'll work, I promise."

Though his answering smirk was tired, Petra could see that maybe - just maybe - he was starting to believe her.

#levi ackerman #petra ral #rivetra #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #fanfiction #my fanfiction #rivetra au

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