#it’s a blatant cash grab and i’ll go into it further later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heyitsjay03 · 3 years

Text

Fighting for Tomorrow

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I still haven’t raised enough cash to own AOT, so I... don’t... own... it. For now

Reiner x Fem!Reader, eventual Captain Levi x Fem!Reader, Sasha x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 9.3k!!!

TW: gore/blood/violence/death, adult language/swearing, loss/grief

AN: It is finally time to get into the juicy stuff >:) Or... at least hint towards it lmao. The real juicy stuff happens later BUT it’s still a juicy one today folks!

You can read parts one, two, and three just by tapping the lovely numbers!

I can’t see.

I can’t move.

Move, _________. You have to move.

I try moving my hand. I just want to lift it. Small steps.

It twitches upwards.

Swallowing, I try to open my mouth.

...nothing.

Move, dammit. You have to move.

I can feel myself pushing through the darkness surrounding me. It’s thick and heavy and something is sucking me back down into it. Tendrils wrap around my arms and legs as I push on, dragging me back down.

I have to move. Sasha, Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Reiner- everyone. I need to find them.

Slowly, my tongue lifts and presses up against the back of my lips. They part, sticking together slightly as my tongue pushes through.

“...awake,” I whisper. My eyes peel open. Everything’s blurry and hazy as I stare up at the sky, ceiling, whatever is above me. “Awake.” I say again, firmer and a bit louder.

“_________?”

Footsteps hurry over to me and I feel myself being lifted up. Someone hovers over me. Fingers brush my face, delicate and soft. Blinking slowly, my vision is cleared up.

“Hey there, softie,” I say quietly.

Reiner scoffs, tears pricking the edges of his eyes. I smile softly, letting my eyes slide to the others surrounding me. Connie, Jean, Sasha, Bertholdt, Marco. “Seems… like most… of the gang… is here,” I mutter, sitting up.

“You should take it easy,” Reiner mumbles, rubbing my shoulders. “You lost a lot of blood.”

“I’m alright,” I say gently, running my fingers over the bandages wrapped around my entire torso. My shirt’s gone- cut up to get to my wounds, I’m sure.

“Have you guys seen Armin? Or Eren?” I ask, looking up to them. The group goes silent and rigid. My stomach churns as I look at each of their faces. “...what’s happened?” I ask quietly, my hands shaking at my sides.

“...we’ve only found Armin,” Connie answers, “And he hasn’t said anything.”

“Where is he?” I ask, getting to my feet. The group protests, urging me to sit down. “Where is he?” I ask, more firm with my words as I stand up straight.

Sasha points across the rooftop. Armin’s head is lowered, his fists gripping his hair. I take a step forward and stumble. Reiner catches me before I hit the tiles and I laugh softly. “...for some reason, this reminds me of something,” I mumble as we walk across the roof.

“You scared me,” he says, “They said that you lost too much blood- I thought-”

“I’m here,” I smile. “I’m here and I’m walking and I’m breathing. There’s nothing to worry about right now.”

Reiner nods. “Just… don’t do that again,” he says firmly, “You understand me?”

“Yessir.”

We stop just a few steps away from Armin. I tap Reiner’s forearm- silently telling him I can go on by myself. Slowly, I walk up to Armin. “...Armin.” I call softly, placing my hand on his shoulder.

He looks up at me. Shadows make his eyes look like empty caves, all barren and dark. “..._________,” he whispers. Tears brim in his eyes and his whole body shakes.

“Where’s the rest of your squad, kid?”

The trembling in his body causes the tiles beneath him to clink together. His fists in his hair tighten and I can see his jaw clench. Tears are now pouring down his face- hot and fast. “Armin, are you hurt-”

“Mikasa!”

My eyes turn to the whirring above us and hear footsteps running on the tiles above us. Placing a hand on his shoulder, I smile. “Mikasa’s here. Do you…” I trail off, staring at his eyes.

They’re even wider, filled with fear. Genuine and pure fear.

“Armin, what is wrong?” I ask, kneeling back down in front of him.

“_________! Armin!” Mikasa calls, running to us. “Are you okay?”

“Just a bit of a nasty scratch,” I hum, smiling as I take her into a hug. “But I’m okay.”

Mikasa nods and looks down at Armin. “Armin, are you…?”

Armin starts to choke, heaving every breath like he couldn’t get it in fast enough. I reach out to touch his shoulder but he ducks away, his head snapping up to look us in the eyes. “We… the Cadets of Squad 34… Thomas Wagner, Nick Tius… Millius Zerumiski… Mina Carolina- Eren Yeager! These five carried out their duty and put up a heroic fight!”

“Armin… What are you-” I’m cut off by the look he gives me. I shake my head. “No… No.”

“I… I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” I shake my head, getting to my feet. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” A wail rips out of my lips, branching from the very pit of my stomach and stemming into every vein inside of me. My hands clutch my chest, gripping the bandages wrapped around me.

Tears choke me at the base of my throat, only allowing mangled sobs out. He’s dead. The kid I looked out for, watched over like he was blood- he’s dead and I didn’t stop it. I broke my promise. I lied to Carla.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

My baby brother is dead.

Another scream shreds through me, echoing around the buildings.

And all at once, everything stops- the pain, the screaming, the crying. It just. Stops.

My eyes are fixated on the sky. Cloudy and grey. Unblinkingly, I stare at the sky.

Wake up.

_________.

Wake. Up.

It’s time to wake up.

--.--

My eyes shoot open.

I’m back in my old house in Shiganshina. Something’s cooking in the oven. It smells like some pastry- I can’t put my finger on the exact one. My hands tremble as I stare at them. There’s no scarring, no bruising. Just perfect, smooth skin and long nails- not bitten or torn off from the constant anxiety.

It’s so warm and soft and gentle- like the days before…

Before what? Nothing’s happened. I’m home and the wedding’s tomorrow. The ceremony is planned out just like it has been. I’ll be married and the debt will be paid off. And a few days after that, I have that appointment to go to with Mister Becker and his family.

Something tugs at the very base of my being, urging me to remember something.

What was it?

Something was supposed to happen today... right?

A knock resounds around the kitchen. I freeze, staring at the door. Another knock. Slowly, I get to my feet and open the door. Three kids. My three kids. Mikasa, all tucked away behind her scarf as she gives me a short- still warm but short- hug. Armin, already eagerly shoving a new book into my hands and opening it to his favorite page. And then-

It’s Eren. His black hair is plastered to his face with blood and sweat and dirt. His body shakes and there’s a gaping hole where one of his eyes is supposed to be.

“You let this happen to me,” he says quietly, his eye wide and unblinking.

“I would… I would never let this happen to you,” I whisper, shaking my head.

Eren looks down at himself. My eyes follow his gaze. Red starts to seep into the middle of his shirt, blossoming outwards and growing in intensity. Slowly, Eren looks back up at me.

“Yes,” he says quietly, “you did.”

Without another word, he crumples to the floor in a puddle of his own blood. I scream, running towards him but something shackles itself around my arms and legs- holding me in place. My body thrashes in its hold. One arm manages to tear out and I reach for him. His eye closes as my fingers graze his forearm.

As I’m pulled back I can hear his voice.

“You let this happen.”

--.--

“..._________!” Sasha’s in front of me, gripping me at the shoulders and shaking me. Her eyebrow furrowed, she stares into my eyes with concern. “_________!”

“I… I’m… I’m here,” I whisper, grabbing her wrists. “I can hear you.”

“We’re gonna take back HQ,” she says, helping me to my feet.

Nodding, I follow her to the edge of the roof in silence. Something grabs my wrist and tugs me back. The familiar warmth and solidity of Reiner’s chest almost brings me to my senses.

Almost.

“_________, you’ve lost too much blood for this,” he says, “If you’re going, you’re letting me carry you.”

A smile creeps onto my face as my arms snake around his neck. Lips brushing together, I can feel his gaze- concerned and harsh. “...I love you,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his.

“...but no.”

And I fall.

The wind flutters through my hair, running up my skin. My fingers click the triggers and I’m shot through the clouds. Various clicks and whirs follow after me. Annie, Bertholdt, Jean, Reiner, Sasha, Connie- they swing and arch at my sides.

“Listen, _________-” he says, arching back upwards. “I need t’tell you something.”

I nod in acknowledgment, shifting a bit in my harness as the leather digs into my side slightly.

It’s not a harsh pain, something I can’t take but… It should hurt a lot more than it does. If they weren’t exaggerating the amount of blood I lost, I should be in much more pain than I am. And I shouldn’t even be able to stand- much less walk and use ODM gear.

Adrenaline. That’s what it is. Adrenaline and delusion. Even as I’m physically here, physically present and seeing and hearing and feeling- I can feel myself slipping.

The grip on my controllers is tight but the grip on my reality is faltering.

Rei groans, “This isn’t something I can just say-”

“If you’re going to say something, just say it!” I snap, rolling my body beneath my bandages. I can’t take this cushioning bullshit.

I can see him sigh and take a deep breath in. “_________, listen… I’m the-”

“Titan!” Connie yells. My eyes dart to my left.

“Three meter!” I call out as my eyes land on the smaller Titan weaving through the alleyway. “Avoid it! We don’t have enough gas!”

The group on my left starts to break off into two different directions- even further left and slipping just behind me. “Make sure no one falls behind,” I call, eyes darting to Reiner beside me.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Reiner, please,” I say just loud enough for him to hear. “I can’t lose anyone else.”

“Then send Jean- or Annie, _________!” He snaps. Frustration is blatant on his face- all trenches in his skin.

“I’m choosing you because I know you’ll make it back to me.”

The trenches leave his face; his eyes soften. Slowly, he nods. “...okay. Just…”

“I know- be safe.”

“And make it back to me.”

“I will… I love you.”

“I love you, too, forest girl.”

--.--

“Brace!” I scream as the wires of my gear launch into either side of the window. Wind whips around me as I curl into myself, waiting to burst through the glass. My body collides with the windowpane- sending shards cutting into the exposed skin around the bandages.

I let out a long huff of breath as I slam against the floor. “Shit…” I mutter, gripping my side. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“_________!” Jean hurries over, helping me to my feet. “You al-”

“Ask me if I’m okay again and I will not hesitate to cut your nose off,” I hiss. My eyes turn to the rest of the windows- all intact. “...are we the-?”

I’m cut off as figures hurl themselves through the windows, shattering glass flying in different directions. Jean and I wrap ourselves around each other to protect each other from the shards. Boots slam against the floorboards as more and more cadets pour inside.

As we pull apart, I give Jean a smile and ruffle his hair. “Thanks, kid.”

“Sure thing, Mom.”

My name is called and I run to its source. Reiner’s arm wrap around me, tucking me into his chest. “You’re okay,” I breathe out as I run my hand up and down his chest. I pull away and look up at him. He’s staring at me with those gorgeous eyes, a small smile on his lips. “You made it back to me,” I whisper, laying my hand against his face and rubbing his cheek with my thumb.

“And you are letting me check your wound,” he says firmly, laying his hand over mine. “That’s an order.”

“I’m higher up than you,” I laugh softly. “Got a whole squad ‘nd everything.”

“I’m going by Top Ten rules,” he teases. Reiner’s hand slides down mine and wraps around my wrist. “Now… Let’s go.”

--.--

We sit in the darkened storage room- away from the prying eyes of the others. Reiner’s hands are soft and gentle as they unwrap the bandages around me. The two of us are silent in waiting. Nervously, I twirl the ring around my finger. It’s covered in blood and I can barely see the glint of the moonstone beneath it but… That’s fixable. I can always clean it.

As the last of the bandage is pulled away, Reiner hands me his jacket. I drape it across my bare chest and wait for his reaction to the wound. “...how is it?” I whisper. The maneuvers I was doing on ODM and bursting through glass should’ve torn it more or something.

Reiner ‘tsk’s his tongue. “...maybe not.”

“‘Maybe not’ what?” I ask, looking slightly over my shoulder. The movement sends a single shock of pain up from the wound. I hiss and go back to facing the wall opposite us.

“I just… I thought something but maybe not,” he mumbles, fingers prodding the sore muscles around my wound.

“What did you think, Rei?” I ask, worriedly spinning my ring around my finger again.

“I thought... maybe it was infected or maybe it was deeper than we thought before.” Reiner says gently, “But it’s not. It’s actually a bit shallow. I think most of the blood we found wasn’t yours.”

“And no signs of infection?” I ask, eyebrows furrowing together.

“No, darling,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the back of my head. “You’re gonna be okay.”

I instantly relax under his touch. There’s no reason he would lie to me- not about this… not about anything. I know I can trust my bumbling mountain man.

Taking a deep inhale in, I close my eyes and feel his fingers slide up along my spine and back down towards the wound. “...you’ll need to stitch me up,” I murmur as my skin tingles in the wakes of his fingers. “See if you can push the edges of the wound together with some pressure.”

“You’ll need to lay down… Here, hand me your jacket.” I grab the blood-stained jacket off the floor and hand it to him. The fabric rustles around a bit for a moment. “Now, lay back,” Reiner says quietly, one hand snaking up to the base of my neck while the other holds me at the base of my back. A goofy smile plays his lips as he hovers over me. Pink dusts his cheeks as the hand at my back reaches up and brushes hair from my face.

“Hi there, Doctor Braun,” I coo, kissing the inside of his palm.

“My favorite patient,” he hums. “...now, c’mon, let’s get you on your side.”

Slowly, I roll over onto my right side and tuck the jacket beneath my head, crossing my arms over my exposed chest. His hand clamps down on the wound and a jolt of pain runs up my spine. “I can’t get the edges to stay together.”

“And the edges- they’re jagged?”

“...yeah.”

“Stitch me up, Doctor Braun.”

“On it, Miss Braus.” Reiner rustles around through the medpack behind me. His fingers ghost my skin, swiping my hair from my neck before placing a kiss there. “This may sting,” he whispers in my ear before pulling away. I take a deep breath in and feel him pierce the top layer of skin, weaving the jagged ends together.

“Not so bad,” I mumble, wincing only slightly as he strikes a particularly sore area.

“Always was a tough one,” Reiner laughs quietly. “Makes no sense as to why you fell for me.”

“I think it was your way with words,” I hum, remembering that night in the woods. “Or maybe your way with kids.”

Reiner scoffs a laugh. “Really? You? Falling for someone based on how good they are with kids?”

I laugh, “Yeah, I know… What a softie I’ve turned out to be.”

“...I mean… Over half the squad calls you ‘Mom’... and the other half calls you ‘Nurse Kickass’.”

“...you’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“Yes, you are- don’t play with me.”

“Ask Marco when we get back,” he laughs, “I’m telling you- I wouldn’t make that up.”

“Alright, fine, I will… Also, what did you want to tell me earlier? Before I sent you to make sure no one gets left behind?”

Reiner’s hands still against my skin. The air around us goes stale. “I just… I don’t know how to say this.”

I turn to look over my shoulder. His eyes are wide, unblinking- gaze turned down towards the floor. “Hey…” I whisper, pressing a hand to his cheek and smiling gently. “Are you okay?”

Slowly, his eyes peel from the floor. As he looks up at me, I can see the haze of unfamiliarity clouding his eyes. Even his skin flinches under my touch.

“...Reiner, are you okay?”

“W-who…?” His eyebrows furrowing, he places his hands on mine shakily.

“Reiner, please- you’re scaring me,” I mumble, my eyes searching his for any trace of warmth, of recognition, of him.

And then all at once, the haze is gone.

A smile crosses his lips. Reiner leans into my touch, “What’s wrong?”

“You were… You were acting strange…” I mutter, “Are you okay? Did you see something out there?”

Reiner coughs a heartless laugh. “...yeah… It wasn’t pretty… I guess I’m just…”

“Tsk…,” I sigh, “After this, we’re going for a swim in our lake, okay? Just me ‘nd you. We need it and you deserve it.”

Reiner hums in appreciation. “Sounds like a plan, Miss Braus.”

“Good… Now, Doc- can you stitch me up before some idiot stumbles in on me half-naked?”

“I’ll get right on that,” he says as I lay back on my side. “How’re you holding up?”

“...Franz is dead.”

“I heard,” Reiner mumbles as he tugs the needle through my skin. “Was he-”

“Yeah,” I whisper, “Bitten in half.”

“Shit…”

“Hanna- she wouldn’t leave him… she just kept… she kept trying to bring him back with CPR. It was… it was like… it was like she couldn’t accept it. That she wouldn’t, Rei.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he says gently, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck.

Tears slide down my face as I remember the fear in her eyes, the frantic way her hands trembled. “...I left her,” I whisper, twirling the ring around my finger as a desperate attempt to bring me back to reality. “I left her behind and there were Titans coming- Reiner, what if she-”

“You can’t think like that.”

“Reiner, she wanted our help and we just-”

“You survived. There wasn’t another choice... You were low on gas, you were severely wounded, she was trying to bring half a dead body back to life- you couldn’t have done anything.”

I’m silent now as I take a deep breath in.

He’s right. Hanna was gone. There was nothing I could do.

“...all done.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, hand snaking over my waist to entwine with his. “For everything.”

“Of course,” he says quietly.

“I mean it, Rei. For everything.”

“I know, darling,” Reiner chuckles as he kisses my neck again. He lowers his voice as he speaks into my ear. “Now… as much as I love seeing you without a bra on, I’m also waiting for some asshole to walk in here and see what’s mine.”

I laugh and sit up, “Possessive today, aren’t we?”

“I thought you died when you collapsed on the roof- I have a right to be overly protective today.”

--.--

“...it’s… fighting… them?” I ask, eyes flicking between Jean, Armin, and Mikasa. “The Titan…? Is fighting the other… Titans.”

“I know it sounds insane,” Jean blurts, “I didn’t believe them either- but I saw it. It was fighting them.”

“You’re sure it’s not like… territory defense or competing for food?”

Armin shakes his head. “It didn’t have an interest in us at all. It was just focused on fighting-”

“And killing,” Mikasa cuts in.

“And killing… the other Titans.”

I laugh in disbelief, running a hand through my hair. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any weirder. “Armin, do you think we can… ‘use’ it somehow?”

Armin nods hesitantly, “I don’t think it has an interest in us so… maybe?”

I sigh. “We can discuss that later… More urgent matters, right?” I ask, gesturing to the room of nervous Cadets. “You ready to tell us your plan?”

“It’s not as much a plan as it is an idea-” Armin starts.

“It’s more than anyone else has,” I mutter, “So get going.”

Armin nods once, leading the rest of us to a schematic sprawled out on the stone floor. The rest of us huddle around him- smooshing together to peek over his shoulder. I can hear the others murmuring to each other. Doubts. Concerns. But also awe. Awe in how the small, quiet blond kid from Shiganshina could have a strategy so well thought-out.

As he’s explaining, his soft blue eyes dart to me and to Mikasa for reassurance. And we give it to him. Armin continues- still unsteady but quickly gaining confidence. As he finishes, he runs a hand through his hair. “...we’ll be needing the seven most athletic for this to work.”

My lips part, ready to offer up my services.

I’m cut off. Six speak at once, all the same word. ‘No’.

“You’re wounded,” Mikasa states, gesturing down to the bandages that wrap and cover my torso. “Those bandages won’t allow for much movement, either. It doesn’t matter if you are one of those seven- we need this to be perfect.”

“_________,” Armin says quietly, “I… I wanted you in the lift. Even if you weren’t injured. You’re a great leader. These people trust you.”

A chill runs down my spine. People trust me? With their lives? What have I done to deserve that? Being a Squad Leader- it was more of a title. It didn’t mean much but this? These people don’t have to trust me. They just… do?

“...I… Okay… Okay… I can… I can do that.”

“Are we sure this is the way to go?” Armin asks.

“Time’s running out and no one else has a plan,” Marco mumbles as he looks down at the schematic. “Let’s just suck it up and do it.”

--.--

Breathe in. Look down the sights. Breathe out. Breathe in. Adjust angle. Breathe out.

Footsteps march closer.

Thud.

...Thud.

…...Thud.

Heartbeat or footsteps- can’t tell.

Who cares, just focus.

Breathe in. Adjust and tighten grip. Breathe out. “Steady,” I whisper as the others around me whimper. “Wait for my signal.”

Thud.

...Thud.

Rush of wind.

The Titan looks at us, dead-eyed and not blinking. Its breathing floods into the lift and pushes me back just a bit. Adjusting my stance, I tighten my grip on the gun in my hands. “...steady…” I mumble as the Titan approaches.

The man just below me trembles horribly. The gun rattling around in his quaking hands, he lets out a single whimper. “Steady your gun, soldier,” I snap, “You aren’t the only one that’s terrified.”

The man nods, frantically adjusting his grip as the Titan gets even closer to us. “Marco…” I call softly, not taking my eyes off the Titan in front of me. “...what’s your count?”

I can hear him swallow. “...three.”

Another Titan slides into the corners of my vision. “That’s five…”

“One more here,” Marco says, the shudder evident in his voice.

The Titan in front of me looms closer. Its eyes are fixated on me, staring right into me. Shudders are now running rampant through my skin. Taking a deep breath, I steady my hands as my legs fidget beneath me. The Titan’s eye comes to look up the barrel up at me. The lens of its eye scrapes against my gun.

“Seven,” someone hisses next to me.

Something shifts in the darkness. I risk a quick glance to my left at the shape. The last Titan. “...too far,” I mumble, rolling my shoulder back and staring at the Titan just at the end of my gun. “Wait for it to get closer.”

“_________, the others are-”

“If we miss, we’re all screwed,” I snap, “...wait for my signal.”

More footsteps stumbling closer. “...Freckles,” I whisper, not taking my eyes off the Titans in front of me. “How far off?”

“...gun’s length.”

“Ready…,” my hands tighten around my gun. “Fire!” I scream, pulling the trigger back. All at once, guns explode as a single unit and the lift is jostled. The Titans stagger about, clutching their eyes and groaning in pain. Whirs come from the ceiling- glints of blades in the shadows just behind the Titans.

One by one, the bodies fall.

Except two.

“...Sasha and Connie missed!”

My body kicks up- that jolt from earlier back again. My hands are on the last blades I have and I’m over the lift, jumping out to the Titan in front of me. I can see Sasha stumbling backwards, staring up at the Titan before her. “Sasha, get out of there!” I scream, pulling the blades out of their containers. “Run!”

Landing on the Titan’s neck, I plant my foot on the back of its head and lift the blades above my head. I bring them down, slashing through its nape. The slab of skin slides off the Titan in red ooze. The other Titan falls as well, Annie and Mikasa jumping down from its shoulders.

Something moist branches out from my side- a dull pain stemming from my back.

Shit.

Must have popped some stitches.

The Titan’s body shudders beneath me as it collides with the floor. “Sasha,” I mutter, waving her to me. Eyes wide, she takes hesitant steps towards me. “Today!” I snap, clutching my side as my words create more pain from my wound.

Sasha hurries over. “...I… I… I failed!” she screams, hands flying to her hair and tugging. “I failed in front of everybody!”

“Shh,” I mumble, placing my free hand on her shoulder. “You can’t beat yourself up about it. There’ll be other times to prove yourself.”

“But-!”

“I am begging you to please just… Shut the hell up about this for a second,” I wince, the pain steadily becoming more intense. “Just… help me walk. I need more stitches.”

--.--

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Reiner mutters, stitching up my back again.

“What should I have done, huh?” I ask as I tuck my arms tighter around myself. “Let her die?”

“Annie and Mikasa-”

“She’s my sister. It doesn’t matter who else can help- I’m always going to be there for her.”

“I know and that’s what the problem is!” Reiner hisses, his voice raising slightly. Sighing, he lowers his voice back down to a strained mutter. “You put everyone- especially her- above yourself. It’s going to get you killed.”

“...I just…” I shudder- from the cold or from the realisation, I can’t tell. Tears prick my eyes. I shut them and tuck my body into itself even more. “I’m… I’m so terrified of losing her, Reiner… Of losing any of you. I… I already lost Eren. And Hanna. And Franz. And Carla and Grisha and… I’d do anything to keep anything from happening to you.”

The needle clatters into the medkit. I can hear Reiner sigh behind me. Slowly, his warmth gets closer and he snakes his arms around my body, tucking me into him. “I understand,” he says quietly as his head rests on top of mine. “But just… try. Try to be more careful. I… I don’t know what I’d do without you. What any of us would do without you but… I’d lose my mind without you...”

“I can do that.”

Reiner presses his lips to that spot just under my ear. “Thank you.”

A small smile graces my lips as I turn to look at him. He’s got that shine in his eyes again. All gentle and soft as his hand wipes away the tears on my face. “...there,” Reiner hums, “All better.”

“You’re so soft,” I tease, pressing my lips against his.

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffs a laugh, “Pop another stitch and-”

“You’ll punish me?” I finish, my eyes sliding over to him- half hidden beneath my lashes and lids. A coy smile graces my lips as I look up at him.

Reiner’s face turns bright red. Words fail to stumble out past his lips as they open and close. “U-uh…”

“It’s so easy,” I roll my eyes and reach into the medkit, taking out the roll of bandages. “Hurry up and wrap me up before your brain fizzles out.”

--.--

“Mikasa!” I call, launching up onto the roof beside her. Armin, Reiner, Jean, Annie, and Bertholdt follow me. “What’re you-”

“That Titan…” she mumbles, gesturing to the scene before us. The rampaging Titan from earlier- it’s pinned up against a building, thrashing and roaring as other Titans tear into its stomach. Handfuls of flesh are ripped from its torso, shoved into eager mouths. “If we could’ve unraveled the secrets of that Titan… I thought maybe we might find a way to get out of this situation.”

“I agree,” Reiner states from behind me. “If the bastard gets himself torn to shreds, we’ll never learn a thing... let’s drive the Titans around it away and keep it alive.”

“Are you crazy, Reiner?!” Jean snaps, “We finally have a way to get out of this place and you want to risk it all for a Titan?”

“What if there’s a possibility that Titan becomes our ally?” Annie suggests, her words cold as she stares straight at me.

“‘Ally’?! Are you insane?” Jean scoffs and turns to me. “Tell them, Mo- _________! They’re insane!”

I swallow, eyebrows drawn together as I look from the Titan to Reiner. “I… I dunno about this, Rei. It’s… It’s a Titan. Whether or not it’ll attack us is still up in the air.”

“Think about it,” Annie continues, her eyes still on me with a somehow even greater focus. “Wouldn’t that be a more powerful weapon than any cannon we have?” She tilts her head to the Titan as it tries to shove one of the others off of itself.

“...it did manage to fight off more than a few on its own,” I mumble, “Maybe…” I stop and groan, running a hand through my hair. “Maybe we can-”

The Titan roars. The ground beneath us quakes as it pushes through the others eating away at its stomach, running for another Titan walking just in front of HQ. The Titan’s arms are ripped from its body as it continues charging. Its maw opens and, with another loud roar, the rampaging Titan sinks its teeth into the other’s neck.

We all watch in stunned silence as it flips the Titan back and forth, shaking it until the neck rips and the body is flung down the street. It’s like… A wolf breaking its prey’s neck. Deliberate and precise. Not an accident.

Murder.

“...I guess not,” I mumble, watching as the Titan stands up straight and lets out another roar.

“Save it, my ass,” Jean says, chuckling breathlessly.

“Do you think-”

I’m cut off as the Titan falls to the floor. After the collision, it stays still. Not breathing. Not moving. Nothing.

“...guess it doesn’t have anything left,” Jean says, walking to the other side of the roof. “C’mon… haven’t you seen enough?”

I peel my eyes away, starting to turn when Mikasa’s hand shoots out and grabs my arm. I turn to face her. Her eyes are stuck on the Titan, mouth open slightly. “What’s wrong?” I ask, turning back towards the Titan.

And I see it.

In the smoke. The nape of the Titan’s neck. Something stirs in the skin before bursting through. The muscle and bones are quickly evaporating, disappearing around it.

Around him.

--.--

“I just…” I mumble, staring at the plate of untouched bread in front of me. “I don’t understand…”

“He’s still Eren,” Annie states. “Does any of this change that?”

“I guess not?” I groan, running hands through my hair and letting my head hit the table. “I dunno…”

“It’s Eren,” she presses. “The same kid you protect like he’s your kid. You just gonna give that up because he’s a Titan?”

I go quiet. She’s not wrong- even if he is a Titan, he’s still Eren. He’s the same little boy I’ve been looking after. It’s just…

Titans- they’re destructive and ugly and filthy- abominations. How could Eren be like… them? Hunger-crazed, carnivorous beasts that steal and destroy and murder so many of our comrades, so many of our families? And now Eren is one of them? He’s just…

“...I don’t. Know.” I mumble, staring up at Annie. Her eyes are still as they focus on me. I can tell she wants an explanation.

Sighing, I sit back up. “Look... Our whole lives we’ve been taught to hate Titans... Shiganshina and Wall Maria? They taught us to fear them. The last three years, we’ve been taught to fight them… It’s a little hard to come to terms with the fact that my kid is the very thing I was told to fear and to fight.”

Reiner’s hand slides to rest on my lower back. “And no one is expecting you to leave that behind. Annie’s just… feelin’ ya out.”

I nod, giving her a small smile. The corner of her lips curve upwards in return. Turning to Reiner, I press my lips to his cheek. “I should… I should go check on my sister…” I whisper.

Reiner nods and lets me get up. A throbbing pain starts to resound through my head. Another stress headache. Fantastic. My fingers rub circles in my temple as I walk to where Sasha sits.

“...hey…” I say quietly, sitting down beside her. “How ya feelin’?”

Sasha only groans in response. Her hands are clutching her stomach, her face pale. She looks like shit.

And so I tell her.

“You look like shit,” I scoff, “You need’a take one?”

Sasha’s eyes flick over to me as I smirk, staring out at the street. She lets out a breath and nudges me. “...shut up…”

“I’m serious! If you need t’go, go. No judgement here.”

“You’re bein’ gross.”

“I was a doctor’s assistant,” I laugh, “Gross was normal for me.”

The two of us laugh quietly before it quickly dies down into concerned silence. “...but seriously,” I mumble, turning to look at her, “Are you okay?”

She can’t even look at me. Her whole body trembles. Sasha’s eyes brim up with tears and her jaw clenches as she lurches forward. “I… I… I submitted! To a Titan!”

“And?”

Her eyes fly back to me. “Whaddya mean ‘and’?! I submitted to a Titan! I failed my squad- they were countin’ on me and I-!”

“We all survived,” I cut in, “And yeah- we were lucky to all survive but that doesn’t change the fact that we did survive... So why are you so freaked out about the fact that you messed up if everyone still survived?”

“Because my comrades… they can’t trust me anymore and they-”

“They’re better off alive without trust in you than dead with trust in you, first off. And second, look around!” I laugh, gesturing to the bustling street filled with soldiers and cadets alike.

“These people are just happy to be alive… Your little screw up? ...it’s not on their minds right now- it may be later but that just means you have to earn that trust back. Prove yourself or... keep freaking out about it and screw up even worse next time.”

Sasha shoots me a glare. I shrug. She sighs, arms coming undone from around her waist. “...how’re you holdin’ up?”

“...well… I got a horrible headache, my back feels like shit, three’a my kids are bein’ questioned by the Garrison because one of them is a Titan, and…” I trail off, my sarcasm dying on my lips.

Flashes of memories with Hanna and Franz play in my vision. Teaching Hanna how to wrap wounds in the lamplight. Giving Franz advice on how to impress Hanna- and giving him bad advice to mess with him. Talking to Hanna about seeing the outside world and breathing real air. Franz teaching me how to open windows from the outside, so I could sneak in and out whenever. Hanna excitedly asking how Reiner and my first date had gone.

And then Franz, laying in a pool of his own blood and bitten in half. Hanna’s eyes- wide and trembling and filled with betrayal- staring at me as she screams for me to help. Just the look she had… gods… It was like… It was like she was drowning and all she wanted was for someone to snatch her arm and pull her out but…

But I left her there.

“..._________?”

I take a shaky, deep breath in and force a crumbling smile. “...and I led half my squad to their deaths.” My smile trembles and falters as my eyes turn to the sky. Breathing wavering, a cold laugh passes my lips. “I sent them to die and I didn’t even go back to help them.”

“You’re wounded,” Sasha says quietly, her fingers gently resting against the bandages beneath my Cadets jacket.

“That’s not good enough,” I sniff, still staring up at the cloudless sky. “That’s not nearly good enough… I went to HQ- I was just behind Jean. I could’ve-”

“Died,” Sasha states firmly, “You could’ve died. You were bleeding out- you passed out. You needed stitches and couldn’t even walk without Reiner or me or Jean! So don’t say ‘you could’ve saved them’ because…”

Sasha trails off. I turn to face her. Tears are streaming down her face and her fists are clenched in her lap. “B… Because… Because you couldn’t have. Because you would’ve died and left me here. Alone... Again.”

Her words cut into me like blades.

All this time, she told me she blamed Tobias for taking me away. But I never realised… I didn’t even think… I didn’t know she was…

“Sasha, I-” the words get caught in my throat as I look at her. My baby sister. All teary-eyed and breathing raggedly. Because of me. Because I left her alone with our parents, starving and burdened with so much responsibility. Because I left her alone after caring for her and looking out for her for her whole life- just up and left one night.

I wasn’t even able to see her- for three years, she had to imagine us meeting through letters and daydreams.

And I was prepared to do it again. Forever.

What have I done?

I swallow thickly and take Sasha’s hand. Gripping it tightly, I look into her eyes as tears flow from mine. “Sasha, look at me,” I mutter, “...I… promise I’m never gonna leave you again. Ever. I’ll always be with you… by your side.”

Sasha’s eyes widen slightly before her grip around my hand tightens. “I won’t leave you, either. I’ll stay with you.”

Smiling, I wrap my arms around her. My fingers run up and down her back as I press my lips to her temple. “I promise,” I whisper softly.

“I promise, too.”

--.--

“...if I’m going to die in this mass suicide, I want to at least…” I trail off, watching my finger trail down the leather strap across his chest.

Reiner chuckles, his fingers sliding up my neck and lifting my chin. “At least what?”

Heat rushes into my face as I stare up at him. The lamplight flickers onto our bodies as we lean against a stone wall. And it makes him so much more handsome. Chiseled and perfect- like a god, I swear it. He could be a god and I wouldn't be surprised. And yet… Here he is… Staring at me like I’m the one that hung the sun in the sky.

“Why the hell did you choose me?” I blurt. My eyes widen as I realise what I’d said. Even my fingers touch my lips- as if they were shocked by my outburst.

Reiner’s eyebrows furrow over his golden eyes. “Are you kidding?”

Gnawing on the inside of my lower lip, I shake my head. “...you…,” I laugh, rolling my eyes at myself. “I used to always think you had a thing for Christa. Or Annie.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “...you’re serious?”

I scoff, punching his chest slightly. “We’re about to go back into Hell itself and you think I’m joking?”

Reiner shrugs. “Always did have a strange sense of humor.”

“Yeah and you still chose me so why?”

He sighs, looking up towards the ceiling. “I guess it was…,” Reiner trails off and sighs again. “It wasn’t just one thing.”

“I’d hope not.”

He rolls his eyes, hands sliding down my sides. “...I think it was how gentle you could be,” he mumbles, “And then how… fiery you could get a few moments later.”

“...you’re joking.”

Reiner scoffs and shakes his head. “Nope. You wanted seriousness so you’re gettin’ it.”

I groan, laughing as I let my head hit his chest. “I can’t believe you fell for my mood swings.”

“...and your hands… and your lips… and those eyes.”

Blush creeps back into my cheeks and I press my face further into his chest. “...you’re such a sap.”

“Oh, gods-,” Reiner groans and laughs. “And your ass. Gods, your ass.”

I pull away and slap his chest. Giggling slightly, I peek around the corner of the wall. Everyone’s still gathered in the street. Garrison soldiers weave around the perimeter of the group, barking orders at trembling Cadets.

“...your boobs aren’t bad, either.”

“‘Aren’t bad’?” I scoff, shaking my head as I feel his hand rest at the base of my back. “I have excellent boobs, thank you.”

Reiner’s lips press up against my temple. “Then you'll have to remind me after all this.”

“...if we make it,” I whisper.

“When we make it.”

--.--

“I’m spending humanity’s last days with my family!” Someone screams over the clammer of the soldiers. People push past me, hurrying away from the walls. A murmur of panic spread through the crowd as more and more start to pull away.

Deserters.

“...gods,” I mutter, eyes glued on a soldier as she screams and tears out of the crowd with her hands clutching her hair. “Can you believe these people, Sasha?” I scoff, turning to face her.

She’s sheet-white and staring at the floor. Beads of sweat snake out of her hairline and down her face. “Sasha?” I call softly. “You okay?”

She doesn’t even look at me. Her eyes are stuck on the floor, fists clenched at her sides. I place my hand on her shoulder gently. As I touch her, Sasha’s body reacts. Her eyes shoot up from the ground, darting from me to the others leaving. Mouth opening and closing, she turns to the others and looks back at me.

“...let’s go.”

“What?”

“...let’s go. Let’s go home. And see Ma and Pa and go walk in our woods,” she says, grabbing my shoulders. Her eyes are flicking between mine, wild and wide. “Please, _________. Let’s just go.”

I pull away slightly, only for her grip to get tighter. “Don’t you want to see them?” She asks, shaking me slightly. “Don’t you want Reiner to meet them?”

I can’t lie.

It’s tempting- to leave here and go see Mom and Dad. To have Reiner meet them. To be safe and to have a safe life.

But that’s not what I really want.

I want justice. I want eternal peace, not peace for just a few days.

And I gave my heart to this. To the Corps. To fight Titans. I won’t- I can’t- take that back. I want to fight. Gods, I need to fight.

“..._________,” Sasha says quietly. Her eyes are locked on mine.

They look just like Hanna’s.

...I promised her, too. I said I’d never leave her but I can’t… I can’t leave.

“I… I can’t,” I shake my head and pull out of her touch. “Stay with me.”

Sasha shakes her head, sweat and tears streaming down her face. “...I thought you promised.”

“I did!” I snap, “But this?! This is… I’m not abandoning my values-!”

“This is me!” She yells back, “I’m your sister!”

“I know that!” I stop and sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I just… This is what we signed up for. To fight for humanity.”

“To die for it,” she snarls, shaking her head.

“So I’ll die!” I scream, fists clenched as I stare up at her. My muscles twitch and squirm beneath the tightness of my skin. “I will die before rolling over and allowing Mom and Dad to see what it’s like- to have your house destroyed, to have your family torn away from you… To have the last few memories of what life was like when it was simple and young snatched away from you,”

I shake my head. “And I’m not letting Mom or Dad or anyone go through that. Because that… is what I signed up for. To protect them,” I point towards the town. “And to fight them.” I add, pointing towards the wall towering over us.

Sasha opens her mouth, only to be cut off by the voice from the wall.

“Anyone that leaves shall be pardoned!”

...what?

“Those who have lived and seen the horrors of Titans shall not be required to do so again! They must leave!”

The crowd starts to stir even more. More and more soldiers pull away from the group, running down the street away from the wall. Heart beating in my ears, I freeze. Sasha tugs on my sleeve and urges me to go with her. My eyes flick over the crowd.

Where is he? Where is Reiner?

“...As should those who want their parents, siblings, friends, and lovers to witness the same horror!”

I watch as Sasha’s eyes glaze over. It’s the same look the Scouts had when they came back that day, when I took Eren and Armin and Mikasa to go see them return. All wide and open like windows. So clear you can see their memories on their lenses.

“...Ma… Pa…” she whispers, her eyebrows coming together.

The General continues, all background noise as I stare at Sasha. “Love,” I whisper, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes slide up to me, all watery and glazed. “I’ll fight beside you.” My fingers brush a strand of hair out of her face. “I’ll always fight with you.”

Slowly, Sasha’s mouth closes. I can see her swallow as she stands up straight. “...for Ma and Pa,” she whispers, grabbing my wrist.

“For Ma and Pa,” I smile, “and for our future.”

--.--

I press my blade to my lips, breathing in shakily. My back is pressed up against a wall, I stare at the sunlight pouring in from the windows on either side of me. I risk another inhale.

I don’t know where it is.

I don’t know where my squad is.

I don’t know where I can go.

My whole body trembles, shaking the ODM gear at my sides. Footsteps shake the walls and floor beneath me. A quiet scream leaves my lips as the footsteps get closer. My hand slaps over my mouth as I continue to whimper.

If I’m not already whimpering like a brat loud enough, my heartbeat is loud enough to give me away.

I’m going to die alone.

Without seeing the outside world.

A shadow looms, blocking the sunlight streaming in from the windows.

The Abnormal chased me and my squad down. Sasha and the others should be back at the wall. I was just behind them, making sure no one got left behind.

Dammit.

I hiss, looking down at my leg. The fabric of my pants is torn from the impact. The son of a bitch got my wires- dragging me down and slamming me onto the rooftop. I slid off the side and shot myself into the windows upstairs. The Abnormal barely missed grabbing me as I dragged myself downstairs.

I thought it left after that.

Gods, why didn’t it leave?

The shadow keeps moving, footsteps echoing down the street as it walks away.

A breath leaves my lungs.

With trembling fingers, I reach out and touch the largest wound in my thigh. A jagged piece of the tiles from the roof sinks into my skin- a deep red pouring down my leg onto the floor. My fingers tug on it slightly. It squelches, sending jolts of pain through my body.

My head slams up against the wall, my jaw clenching as a hiss of breath snakes through my teeth.

I can’t run with this.

I slam my head against the wall again.

Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!

I look back down at my leg.

Even if I could somehow fix the wound on my thigh, the area around my ankle is swelling and turning a faint shade of purple.

Goddammit.

Footsteps thud just outside of the building again. Sunlight disappears- drunk up like water and replaced with ink-like darkness. Dust trickles down from the ceiling above me and I can hear the Abnormal shifting through the debris upstairs.

Why does it want me so badly?

There are others outside- and the group on the wall. Why does it keep coming back to find me?

Something drags along the ceiling, more dust following its trail. The Abnormal’s footsteps trudge away once again.

...is it… looking for something?

I shake my head.

Who gives a shit? I just need to get out of here, not debate the intelligence of Titans.

I look around the room I’m in. It looks like an abandoned store- emptied of food and stands overturned. Wood and glass litter the floor around me. Shredded pieces of rope hang from the ceiling across the room.

...I have an idea.

I press up against the wall, pushing myself to my feet with my good leg. My right leg relaxes slightly, letting my foot touch the floor. A small pain shoots up from my ankle, circling the wound on my leg. My eyes flick up to the ropes swinging just across the room.

I have to do this if I want to see them again.

With each lopsided step, pain shoots through my body and my muscles scream at me to stop. My hands reach out and tug the rope down from the ceiling. It comes down and my body falls to the floor with it. Hissing in pain, I grab three pieces of wood and place one piece on either side of my ankle. Tucking the other under the arch of my foot, I tie the rope around my ankle and under my foot, bringing it back up to tie just under my knee.

It’s crude but it’ll do.

The wound in my thigh sends another jolt of searing pain through me. Sighing, I run a hand through my hair. “...think, _________,” I whisper, eyes flicking around the room.

They settle on a ripped banner hanging above the door. Faded, dusty letters spell out ‘F RM R’ MAR T’. It looks like it’s made out of something like a tarp. Not good for bandages.

But good enough for a tourniquet.

I get back to my feet, clutching the area surrounding my weeping gash. I stumble towards the banner and tug on the hanging section. It doesn’t budge. I try again, letting my body lean back as my hand grips it.

It rips and I’m sent backwards, landing on my back. “Gods,” I mutter, rolling onto my side. “When I get back… I’m gonna… take a nice... hot bath… with candles… and tea…,” I continue, wrapping the banner around my leg. “And then- when I’m all healed… I’m gonna… have some mindblowing se-”

Something crashes through the front door. Debris goes flying from the gaping hole, slicing my face as they speed by.

My eyes open. Body frozen, I stare at the giant hand just centimeters from my foot. It starts to move, snaking back out into the street. I scramble backwards and tie the banner around my thigh.

It’s time to go.

I get to my feet, inching around the corner back into the main part of the store. There has to be another exit.

Something passes by the windows.

My eyes catch it as I move further away from the hole in the entrance.

Through the dirt-stained glass, two eyes staring back at me.

My blood stills and everything goes by so fast.

Another hand punches through the walls in front of me. It reaches towards me and grabs my good ankle, pulling me back into the street. Kicking and screaming, I reach down and grab my blade, bringing it down on the fingers wrapped around my body.

The fingers fall away and I fall backward, hitting the cobblestone street with a huff. The Abnormal- its hand steaming from the bleeding stumps- turns to look at me.

My legs push me back, flailing and scraping against the stone as they try to get me the hell out of here. My back scraping against the stone, I scream and tighten my grip on my sword.

If I go down, I’m going down with a fight.

“Get away from me!” I scream as the Abnormal’s other hand grabs me by the torso and lifts me in the air.

Oh gods… this is it, isn’t it?

“Let go!” I yell again, thrashing as the grip around me tightens. “You let me go, now!”

Sasha. Eren. Mikasa, Armin. Reiner. Jean and Connie. Was that the last time I’ll ever see them?

I’m lifted even higher until I’m at eye-level with the Abnormal. My eyes lock with its own. A chill runs down my spine as I do. Such a deep shade of brown they look like black pools of water. And I’m so terrified I’ll drown in them.

“Put me down,” I say quietly.

It’s weird. All those days and nights in the woods with my dad and with Sasha. The animal we were hunting- the deer, the squirrel, whatever- it would always lock eyes with me. I never thought much of it but…

I understand now what it’s like.

To stare at the thing that’s going to kill you. To plead with your eyes.

And to be engulfed in darkness.

...right?

But we stand in the street, staring at each other. It’s frozen. I stare at it and it stares back.

...shouldn’t I be dead already?

Slowly, it lowers me. My feet touch the ground and the hand pulls away. It straightens back up and keeps its eyes on me.

They changed.

Its eyes.

They were… they were brown before, weren’t they?

They shine an almost neon red now- glowing and piercing in the sunlight.

What the hell is going on?

The eyes are glazed over, staring blankly at me. My fingers dance along my blades, ready to fight if this is some… trick? I don’t know- I’m just ready.

But it just sits there. Waiting. Watching.

“...get the hell out of here!” I yell, waving my blade above my head.

It turns around.

Did it just-

Listen?

It walks away from me, leaving me alone in the street.

I shake my head. No, no… It didn’t listen. It’s an Abnormal. Maybe it just…

I don’t need a reason. I’m free and I can get the hell out of here.

----------

You can read parts one, two, and three just by tapping the lovely numbers!

79 notes · View notes

creativenicocorner · 4 years

Text

A Valentines to my Terpsichore readers! A ch13 Sneak Peek of that one 1920′s speakeasy scene I was goofing about a while back.

Initially I wanted to try and have another spicy Avium and Apium chapter out for the 14th buuuuut that didn’t happen lol and I’m very excited to have reached past a section I was having a mild block on!

So why not share! No? (I have no more self control dknlksnfg)

A soft reminder that this fic is rated Mature

It isn’t lovey-dovey or anything, but it does hint at a few future plot-points that will be discussed more in ACT II (Especially regarding Nomura, and the shenanigans that unfold in the 20′s)

Enjoy! （´・｀）♡

The tawny haired reedy fellow barked an order, some last ditch effort, and a gent in overalls started to fumble towards the bar. He slid away from Enoch’s grasp like a tiny vespa cutting in front of a double decker bus, and nearly tackled Stricklander - but instead slipped on a few peanut shells and landed face first into Krax’s fist.

“Pity.” went Stricklander, finishing his drink, “I’ll have another Leon, I fear this is going to be a rather long night.”

Another member of the tawny haired fellow’s group started to come Stricklander’s way.

“I must say I’m disappointed.” said Stricklander, voice ringing a bit louder despite the obstruction of the pipe, “Coming into my establishment, with a promise made to follow certain house rules. I keep this place open for all, and this is my repayment?” he said, more for the humans in earshot.

Stricklander then sidestepped raised his arms and pushed the charging goon into the bar counter. A great racket and breaking of glass followed.

Johnson inched further away head sinking into his collar like a turtle into his shell, and Leon tutted at the mess.

Stricklander stepped forward with ease, picked up the goon by his hair, and feeling the eyes of the speakeasy on him he said, “This is a sacred place built on secrets and promises.”

The goon groaned, spitting through his teeth while trying desperately to get his bearings straight.

“Consecrated ground. Sanctified by the very spirits you drink.” Stricklander then reached for his glass of whiskey, paused, and reached for a gin bottle instead - smashing it over goon’s head.

The goon whimpered. Leon hissed even more, thinking of the clean-up he’d have to do later.

“And when those promises start to break,” continued Stricklander grabbing the goon’s bloody head, “what then?” Despite the calm of Stricklander’s voice, fury gripped him as he bashed the goon’s head against the bar counter again, and again.

“What?”

Bash

“Then??”

Bash

-BANG-

All was silent.

Stricklander’s ears were ringing. He let go of the goon, barely watching as he crumpled to the floor fractured skull and all.

The gun was still smoking as Stricklander dragged his eyes to and from the gun and the hole in the wall.

Stricklander frowned. With a disappointed drawl he pointed to the hole with his pipe, “You missed, mate.”

The tawny headed leader’s chest was heaving.

“Am I to believe you’re the mastermind behind this tomfoolery?” asked Stricklander.

The tawny headed leader licked his lips and said, “I am.”

“Do names come with that honor?”

“It’s Jackson. Jack Mumford.”

And Stricklander’s smile stretched with a growing frost, “How do you do Jack Mumford. You have my attention,” he then gestured to the fellow patrons and changelings, “an audience, if you will.”

Mumford eyed Strickler’s coneys specifically, counting how many of his own men were either incapacitated or held. Licking his lips Mumford resembled a fox slowly realizing the chicken coop he was in wasn’t a chicken coop at all, but rather a den of wolves and lions.

“Well..” braved Mumford, “We’re- we’re here for your product.”

“The bar counter too much of a walk for you?” asked Stricklander dryly.

“We’re taking it.”

“Oh!” said Stricklander, shocked as drywall. “So it was the commerce factor that went over your head.”

“O-oh, Oh we know about commerce alright.” finger wagged Mumford, with a quick glance around to remind himself who was in arm’s reach of him. “We got your trade routes figured, and figured good. A-a-and unless you cooperate, we’re going to take em’, get the authorities-” Mumford paused and eyed some of the police that were in the speakeasy, and corrected himself with, “the right authorities, and once they’re notified we’re going to sell the product back with the cops none the wiser.”

A few changelings in the background shared looks, specifically how easily Mumford just explained his whole plan. Some wondered if this blatant display was hidden genius, or foolishness. Leon on the other hand, already started to clean up.

“Well” said Stricklander who held an impressed look a farmer would have with a plucked gourd they were about to carve, “aren’t you a regular Jonathan Wilde. Now is it possible you had your eye on any of my shipments today? Specifically the eastbound product that is technically about to head northwest via a transfer that had a specific amount of delays?”

“Well…um..”

“If so, you’ll be disappointed to know we managed to deal with those delays, which I can now confirm were caused by you and the rest of your,” Stricklander paused, not so much to search for the right word, but relish in the delay, “friends…no?”

Mumford gulped.

It was an affirmative answer as any to Stricklander, swishing his pipe like a cat’s tail before a pounce “I advise you to take a careful eye over the obituary column when you can, Mr Jack Mumford.”

Mumford’s eyes widened, his chest heaving as quickly as a trapped mouse. Again he gazed around to see how well encircled he was. It became clear to Mumford he wasn’t going to leave The House of Tutors without Stricklander’s permission.

“What you did today Mr. Jack Mumford was, well, not well advised to put it mildly, imbecilic to put it bluntly. You should probably think thrice the next time you want to enter an establishment of mine. You have and will face repercussions. It’ll be a hard lesson for you I’m sure.” nodded Stricklander, sympathetic as stone, “But most of life’s lessons are.”

Mumford stared. No one made a move forward towards him of any kind.

As if reading his thoughts Stricklander idly snapped his fingers, and the changelings holding onto Mumford’s men were released to stagger and or fall to the ground.

Mumford then gulped. “I..I can go? Me and my men?”

“Yes. Of course you may. But you will be followed.” Stricklander explained sensibly, then smiled as if the smile were an afterthought.

Stricklander then flung the knife at a table, which landed with a satisfying THWACK quickly followed by a shocked high pitched “Eep!”

Where did the knife come from? No one ever really knew with Stricklander - but he always had one somewhere, just when he needed it.

Stricklander pointed at the owner of the shocked mousey sound with a restrained snarl, “And you, little madam.” He was speaking to Nomura, who sunk back into her skin after the electricity of the shock faded. “My office. Now.” he said with a generic thumbing behind him for good measure.

With nearly the entire speakeasy watching her, Nomura rolled her eyes with all the petulance of youth. Frustrated she had been caught sneaking back in despite having done so in the chaos of the previous brawl.

It was then that Mumford had the misfortunate idea to try and use Nomura as a hostage.

Mumford sidestepped, pulled the knife from the table with one hand, and used the other hand to twist Nomura’s arm behind her back.

The speakeasy held their breath.

Stricklander blinked, seemingly unimpressed and uncaring of Nomura’s fate.

A gaze Nomura herself believed as she leaned her neck away from the knife’s edge. A gaze that wouldn’t have fooled Otto if he were there.

“You really are thick.” said Stricklander.

“You ain’t gonna follow me, and if you do - she’ll get it.”

Nomura searched Stricklander’s eyes for any sign he’d intervene, but only a lack of concern was her response.

“Go on then. Get on with it.” sniffed Stricklander, eyeing his pipe casually before looking back at Mumford, and then Nomura specifically, “If you can manage, it’ll be quite the surprise for everyone. Hm?”

Nomura’s expression changed from frown to realization. This, before the changelings in the House of Tutors, was a chance to test her metal.

What Mumford believed as a dainty misfortunate flapper with an affinity towards warm purple colors, Stricklander saw something entirely else. After all this wasn’t the 1800s anymore.

Mumford furrowed his brows in disbelief, “What kind of cold hearted sonofabitch-?!?!”

Mumford was interrupted by a sharp heeled dig into his foot that made him yowl like a coyote, a backwards headbutt that nearly broke his nose, and although the knife nearly scratched Nomura it fell out of Mumford’s hands and was caught by Nomura just as swiftly. Ending her capture with a smooth release of her restrained arm, and allowing it to rotate behind the distracted and pained Mumford to grasp the back of his tawny hair and shove his head into the table, pinning him with a force so strong Mumford never would have guessed Nomura had.

With her nostrils flared and her adrenaline spiking Nomura twirled the knife in her fingers, and was about to dig the blade into the back of Mumford’s neck, but stopped as Stricklander cleared his throat and said, “Miss Nomura?”

At the last second the knife redirected and landed by Mumford’s face and dug into the table, slicing his ear and cheek in the process.

Stricklander gave a patronizing clap, “Mark me as surprised. Aren’t you surprised Mr. Jack Mumford?”

Mumford whined.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” said Stricklander before ordering, “Empty his pockets.”

Nomura’s frown deepened, and did as she was told.

From his pockets she rested on the table Mumford’s two scraps of leather of a wallet, and an old pocket watch that had a bit of fuzz and hair caught in it.

As Stricklander approached the table, leaning forward to poke at Mumford’s things.

From Mumford’s wallet he took two dollars cash from the three dollars Mumford had to his name. “As payment for the broken glass.” Stricklander explained in a sensible tone that made Mumford sick.

Mumford struggled under Nomura’s remarkably strong hold. “You’re a rotten piece of work, you know that?”

“A fair assessment.” said Stricklander as he idly fiddled with the pocket watch.

The pocket watch clicked open, and from inside, like confetti, sprang a lock of dark curly hair in velvet string, and a picture of a young lady.

The lady was posed exquisitely. Deep lipstick, large glasses, a headband perhaps in silver, dangling earrings, and although her dress exposed her shoulders her décolleté was covered in low hanging necklaces that had the length to wrap around her neck three times. Her hand delicately posed on her palm.

Mumford winced as Nomura leaned forward to get a better look at the picture. If Mumford wasn’t too worried about his life, and the life of his love, he would have heard Nomura catch her breath.

Her young heart fluttered with a feeling of awe, admiration, and…something else, Nomura couldn’t pin the word for it…but it was a something she had been feeling in secret from the order. A secret shared between herself, and the Trollhunter’s son.

Whoever this young lady was Nomura wouldn’t mind trying out kissing with her. She equally wondered where she could get such lipstick.

And while the fair Nomura saw hearts and stars, Stricklander didn’t share the same reaction. Sure this young lady was pretty, but his cold gaze saw only tactics and unforeseen benefits.

“Does your sweetheart know where you are, sir?” asked Stricklander.

“N-Nancy? She ain’t got nothin to do with this! Nothin to do with this no how!”

Stricklander considered his words, nodding, as if appreciating poetry.

“Well…” he said with a well practiced smile as cold as a mirror’s surface, “I suggest you get back to your dear Nancy then. Hold her tight on this dark night. For if you continue on the course you are on now, well…” Stricklander took the time to savor re-igniting his pope, “It will be a very dark and cold night indeed. For you,” he waved off the flame of the ignited match, “and Nancy.”

Mumford struggled under Nomura’s hold, then finally relented. Making but a partial peace with his loss of face.

If he must swallow a dose of embarrassment to walk out alive, so be it. For his crew, for Nancy, he humbly lowered his head.

“Good.” chirped Stricklander. He pulled on his pipe with ease before exhaling a smokey, “Now off with yeh.”

Mumford and his friends scrambled out of the establishment in a hurry. Quickened feet, followed by swears echoed up the stairs. A few stumbles were also heard, especially by the ones carrying their friend with the fractured skull.

Stricklander’s eyes calmly followed them out, never leaving them as he leaned and whispered at Johnson, “Have them followed. And see what you can find out about Mumford and this, Nancy.”

Johnson nodded, and gestured to Leon to pass his bartending duties to the human employee and follow Johnson.

When Johnson and Leon left, the speakeasy’s ambiance felt as though the tension was easing. Conversation and drinking slowly returning with the sounds of clinking glass and pouring liquor.

Nomura looked around herself, no longer the subject of attention, and started to believe perhaps in all the confusion Stricklander might have forgotten whatever stern word he had planned for Nomura.

She started to side-step to the corners of the speakeasy, tip-toeing to a dark part of the speakeasy, when Stricklander snapped his finger at her sharply, and just as sharply thumbed at his office.

Anger and disappointment prominent on his features. There was no getting out of trouble today, not even after her display of strength with Mumford.

Nomura deflated her chest, and dejectedly walked towards Stricklander’s office already feeling her ears hurt with the talking to she was about to be given.

This was Stricklander to Krax. As warm as steel and twice as sharp.

And now…well…Krax wasn’t so sure…

“NOW THE DREADNOUGHT’S A-HOWLIN’ DOWN THE WILD IRISH SEA~ HER PASSENGERS MERRY~ WITH HEARTS FULL OF GLEE~”

Strickler’s incessant singing cut through Krax’s memory like a spike in a railway. He had reached the threshold to Strickler’s containment with a grumble and a small slosh of his water bucket.

Thank you for reading!

#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Toa Trollhunters #Terpsichore #Nico Writes #Walter Strickler #Stricklander #Strickler #Waltolomew Stricklander #Nomura #Zelda Nomura #Krax #changelings #that 1920s rumble feel #OCs #Original Characters a plenty #have I mentioned how much I can't wait to explore Nomura and Strickler's weird found family relationship? Cause I can't wait!!#ACT II OOOF

23 notes · View notes

stardusttrashed · 5 years

Text

Football Coach Part 18

Previous Part

Word Count: 1515

Warning: a bit nsfw

“Is this the part where I get murdered,” you joked as you wadded through the darkness. You waited for a reply but came up empty, not even the sound of footprints. “Cal?” The floodlights blinded you as they lit the field you had wandered onto. You continued to wait for a reply, hoping with the lights on he’d announce where he was soon. “Calum Hood this isn’t funny anymore,” you called out, hoping the wavering in your voice didn’t carry out.

“Missed me,” Calum whispered as he snuck up behind you and grabbed your waist. You quickly spun around with your fist raised before you could even fully process what was happening. “Woah woah woah, it’s me, sweetheart,” Calum cooed, cupping your fist in his hand. He brought your hand up to his lips for a quick peck, “just me.”

“Don’t do that to me!” You swatted his laughter caused trembling chest.

“I’m sorry my love. Will it make you feel better if I give you a point now?” You shook your head as you allowed him to pull you closer. “A point and a kiss,” he questioned as he lifted your chin with his forefinger hooked underneath it.

“Bite me, Hood,” you grumbled as you continued to glare daggers at him.

“Where sweet cheeks,” he replied cheekily. “ ‘Cause I’ll happily oblige if you’ll let me.” Dipping his head down to your exposed neck, nipping at the soft skin gently. “I could start here,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling you ever so gently. You pressed your body closer to his, aching for his touch more than you could comprehend. He pulled away to admire you- the way your eyes fluttered closed, your slacked jaw, the way he could tell how much you wanted him without such words even falling from your lips. You were absolutely beautiful in every way and somehow you were all his.

“I take it the game is off then,” you managed to pant, your eyes still closed.

“Oh, not even close. I couldn’t possibly miss out on the chance to beat you again, you’re not getting off that easily.”

Your eyes snapped open as you glared at him again. “What do you mean beat me again? Nah uh, come get this ass kick,” you gloated, pulling from his grasp and walking onto the field further. “How do you want it,” you asked as you pulled your hair up into a ponytail. “Heels on or off, it’s up to you how badly you want to be beaten.”

Calum burst out into laughter at your blatant cockiness, “off. I can’t have you lose and walk out with a broken ankle. Don’t worry, I’ll let you put them back on later,” Calum winked. Are we still gonna start one to zero?”

“Yeah, sweet cheeks, you can have my point though. You’re gonna need it.” You tossed your heels off to the sideline.

Calum dribbled the ball over to you, resting his foot on top of the ball as he came to a stop in front of you. “Y’know this whole cocky act is kinda cute.”

You swept the ball from under his foot, immediately springing into action as you raced down the field. “And your talking is what's gonna help me win,” You called out with the assumption Calum was still way behind you. You kicked the ball, sending it soaring towards the goal only to have Calum swoop in last minute and stop the ball.

“Normally people wait for a ‘go’ before they start a game,” Calum chuckled before making his way to the other side of the field.

The sound of laughter entangled with pants soon filled the seeming enormous stadium. No matter how hard you or Calum tried to outsmart each other nothing seemed to work. Every spin move he tried you had already somehow seen it coming. Any fancy footwork you’d tried to pull, Calum was already blocking it. It had gotten to the point where you could barely make it past halfway line.

“What happened my love? I thought you were gonna kick my ass, huh,” Calum pant behind you, snaking his hands around your hips. His calloused fingers rubbed circles into the bits of exposed skin. He persisted in his attempts to kick the ball away from your control, but nothing like he had previously. “Or was that all talk?”

“Where’s a ref when you need one,” you joked despite making no attempt to stop him. “Last time I checked, feeling on an opponent like this isn’t allowed… not that I’m complaining.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love you.”

“Only like a bazillion times,” you smiled uncontrollably. “And yet every time it feels like a first.” Your cheeks felt as if they had a hair dryer directed onto them at your confession. “You make me feel, gah, I can’t even put into words how you make me feel.” You all concentration you’d focused on the ball and shifted it towards Calum. “I love you.” You spun around in his hands, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck. You scratched through his matted curls, not caring a single bit how sweaty he was.

“I guess that’s game then.” He flashed his signature cheeky smile, “which I guess means I won. Y’know considering you gave me your point and all.”

You hummed quietly as you chewed on your bottom lip, “and how would you like to cash in your price?”

“Think it’s just better if I show you,” Calum boasted, lifting you up easily with one arm. He kisses you like you’re the air he breathes, a meal he’s spent weeks being deprived of. His fervent kiss sent your mind spiraling, heating every ounce of your being. “If that’s alright with you,” Calum growled as he left a trail of kisses down to your neck.

All you could manage out was a quiet whimper and a quiet ‘fuck’. “Please,” you moaned, tugging on his hair gently. “I don’t even care about the turf right now, I just-. Fuck I need you.”

Calum slowly lowered onto his knees before laying you down on the cool fake grass. You helped him slide the jumpsuit teasingly slow off your body. Every inch of him wanted to simply rip the fabric off of you, to not waste a single second. And yet here he was, going too slow for even your taste. He admired every new part of you he uncovered. He committed the sight of you to his memory, reveling in every curve your body had to offer. You exceeded any expectations he had and made that crystal clear with the way his eyes ravaged your body.

You chuckled at the starstruck expression plastered on his face. “Like what you see,” you asked teasingly.

“You have no idea,” Calum replied in a barely audible voice. His swollen lips left sloppy kisses along your burning skin, moving down to meet his hands resting on the waistband of your panties. “All mine,” he grumbled to himself in between kisses. “Let's see how much trash you can talk now peach,” he continued with a sudden surge of confidence, knowing he had you like putty in his hands. Without warning, he ripped the fabric off your body causing you to squeal quietly. He groaned quietly at the sight of your dripping core, licking a long stripe along your entrance. “Best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he praised you quietly before delving in further, lapping up your juices greedily. The way he switched between long slow flicks and quick kitten licks drove you wild. You were a whimpering mess beneath him, your hands desperately searching for something to cling to as he continued relentlessly. Any attempts to grind your hips against him was met with his strong hand pressing your hips down to the ground, pinning you in place.

“Cally, I,” you moaned as your back arched off the field. You tugged on his curls, hoping to somehow bring him closer than he already was.

“That’s it, fall apart for me. I got you,” he reassured you in a husky voice before going back to exploring you as far as he could. His thumb rubbed your clit, matching the pace of his tongue and sending you over the edge. He gently kissed your clit once more before pulling away. He pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to you.

“Is that it?” You ignored the squeak in your voice, too preoccupied with the needy feeling building up within you.

“Far from it,” Calum chuckled as he helped you change into his shirt. “But I want my first time with you as my fiancee to be somewhere else. At least try to make it a little special.”

“You would pick now of all times to try to be cute.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he smiled, picking you up as if you were as light as D’artagnan. “All the way home and twice as much at home,” he kissed you gently, the taste of yourself still fresh on his plump lips.

“Yes please.”

50 notes · View notes

shellsan · 5 years

Text

Poker Pair Week 2k19

Day Two: Coffee Shop AU

Disclaimer: I do not own D.Gray Man

Served (Some like it hot)

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Allen sighed as the door bell rung, alerting his to a customer in the early hours of the morning and breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Good morning. What can I get for you?” Allen asked, smiling politely at the woman who had just walked in.

“I'll take a regular caramel latte, lactose free, and a slice of banana bread. Take-away.” She requested, voice impatient, finger tapping on the counter as it was rung up.

“Not a problem, Ma'am. Was that everything today?”

The look he got in response to that made his eyebrow twitch a little.

“Obviously.” She scoffed.

“That'll be $9.60 today then.”

“For a coffee and banana bread? Ridiculous.” The woman complained, as she tapped her card for the payment to go through.

Allen didn't bother to reply to that, handing over her receipt. “Won't be long.” He promised, ignoring the door as it rung again, signalling another customer.

Turning around, he grabbed the banana bread and packed it up before preparing the drink for her, taking the moment to breath deeply, plastering his smile back on his face as he turned around, calling out her order.

“Finally.”

Allen continued to smile, completely aware that it must look plastic, wishing he could ask how the two minutes it took him warranted that kind of response.

“Have a lovely day.” He wished as she left. When he was sure she was out of ear shot, he couldn't help but add, “and never come back.”

Unfortunately the other customer that had entered must have heard since Allen heard him chuckle, the sound deep, and dear god, now that he's actually paying attention this man is gorgeous. Dark tanned skin, dark hair, and god, a suit?

'Focus. You're at work.' Allen reminded himself, swallowing around the sudden dryness in his throat.

“Sorry you had to hear that.” He apologised. “What can I get for you?”

The customer chuckled again (was he trying to kill Allen?), “Don't apologise. Just a large mocha, please. You're not going to say the same thing about me once I leave are you?”

Allen tried to look innocent as he rung up the order. “I don't know what you're talking about, sir. I would never say anything about anyone once they leave the store. I love all of my customers.” He informed, unable to stop the slight twitch in his lips. “That'll be $5.60.”

He counted it as a win when it scored him a smile from the customer as he counted out some cash and handed it over.

“Won't be a moment. The name for this order, Sir?”

Not that there was anyone else in store to require it – god knows he didn't ask the last lady for hers. But if this was going to be the only time Allen ever saw this gorgeous man, he was going to at least get a name (so he knew what name to chant with his hand-), he stopped that train of thought before it could go any further.

“Sir works fine.” The customer teased, smirking. “In fact, boy, you can call me sir, any time.”

Allen blinked for a moment, unsure of how to react to this blatant flirting, but quickly pulled himself together, fighting the pink that wanted to crawl over his cheeks.

“I don't call just anybody Sir,” He informed, moving to make the drink. “Especially not people who make assumptions about who's calling who, anything.”

The customer's eyes glittered with mirth and amusement as he smirked, not replying, letting Allen focus on making his drink.

A minute later, Allen was handing the drink to the customer (refusing to put it down because apparently he was needy enough to force this man to touch him, and god, when did he become this desperate?).

“See you again, boy.”

He was long gone before Allen realised that this implied that the other man would be back.

Or that he hadn't gotten the other man's name after all of that.

Luckily for Allen, by the time the following week rolled around, Allen found himself face to face with that same man, and this time there were a couple other people in store.

As he finished serving the man in front, he was suddenly very glad that Lavi was on shift with him this time, and that he wouldn't have to stop and go make the drinks.

(He was just as glad when no-one walked in after The Customer.)

“Back so soon?” Allen asked as the other man stepped up to the counter.

The other man smirked. “Why? Did you miss me?”

Huffing, Allen rolled his eyes. “Now how could I miss a man who never even gave him his name?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

It was a bluff though, because he had missed the mystery customer, every time that door bell had rung, and he'd hated every moment of it.

“Ouch. That hurts, boy.”

“Truth always does.” He quipped, just to gain a smirk.

“I'd ask if you were always this rude to the customers, but I already know the answer.” The Customer teased.

Allen put on his most innocent look. “I'm sure I don't know what you mean-” He stopped himself from saying Sir, but only barely.

From the look on the other man's face, he knew it too.

“What can I get for you?” Allen asked instead.

“A large mocha to take-away again.”

“$5.60, please.”

Taking the money, Allen rung it up easily. “And the name for this order?” He prompted

“Tyki.”

Grinning in victory, he wrote the name onto the cup for Lavi, ignoring the looks his friend had been throwing at him since their entire interaction had begun.

“Well then, Tyki, it won't be long.” He promised, before heading over to help his friend finish making the drinks.

When Lavi wiggled his eyebrows at him, Allen shoved him lightly. “Stop it.”

“Thirsty.” Lavi teased.

Rolling his eyes, Allen huffed. “I don't want to be told that by you.” He grumbled.

“Ouch. That really hurts.”

“I'm sure you'll survive.”

Picking up Tyki's drink, now finished, Allen stepped over to where they handed the drinks out, calling out his name.

“I can think if so many better times for you to call out my name, boy.” Tyki teased lowly as he stepped up to the counter, fingers brushing against Allen's like last time as he took the drink from his hand.

“Keep dreaming.” Allen wished him, smirking as Tyki's eyebrows rose.

“Know a lot about dreaming about people, do you?”

Instead of replying, Allen just waved him goodbye, smirk never leaving as those eyes went from amused to smouldering.

“Come again soon~”

As soon as the door shut, Lavi came up beside him, slinging his arm over Allen's shoulder. “I was wrong.”

Turning to look up at his friend, he tilted his head in confusion.

Lavi smirked. “You're really thirsty.”

Allen elbowed him immediately after, huffing as he moved to go back to work.

God why did he put up with this?

After than encounter, he saw Tyki a few more times, always flirting back and forwards, but neither taking it further, enjoying the play for the time being. Or perhaps that was just Allen.

Either way, the fifth time Tyki comes in and orders the same thing, Allen has to roll his eyes. “Have you ever considered getting something else for a change?” He offered.

Tyki raised a challenging eyebrow. “Oh? What do you suggest?”

Biting his lip, he wanted to smirk when he noticed Tyki's eyes dart down to his lips.

“Given your preference for something with more than just a coffee flavour, a vanilla or a caramel latte might be right up your alley.” He suggested.

Tyki raised an eyebrow. “And if I don't like it, boy?”

And wow, that was even more obvious then their usual flirting. “That depends. What do you want?”

“Your number.”

Allen blinked, a little shocked at how quickly the response came, before humming in thought. “I suppose that might be arranged.” He decided finally. “On one condition.”

At the curious look his got, Allen let a bit of his exasperation show. “Stop calling me 'boy'. My name-tag is right there, and I'm beginning to think you just don't care enough to remember.”

There was a look of consideration from Tyki before he nodded. “I thought it was a rather cute nickname, but fine.”

Allen snorted, ringing through a caramel latte, charging him the usual, before turning around to prep the drink, “You would.” He joked.

“Wow, that hurts.” Tyki informed him, voice entirely deadpan.

“And yet you keep coming back.” Allen reminded him, carefully putting the lid on and offering it to Tyki, the same as always.

“Perhaps I have a bit of a masochistic streak.” Tyki allowed, taking it.

Allen watched with rapt attention as the other man pulled the lid back off, taking a sip, the foam covering his top lip as he looked Allen in the eyes.

As the drink was put down, his attention was immediately drawn to the other man's lips when Tyki's tongue darted out to swipe over his top lip, licking away the foam that was left behind – and god, he'd done that on purpose, hadn't he?

“Tease.” He couldn't help but murmur.

Tyki shrugged. “Unfortunately, I do actually like this.” He admitted finally, looking a little forlorn.

Rolling his eyes, Allen grinned. “Look underneath.” He suggested.

Doing as the other man suggested, a slow smirk spread over Tyki's lips.

“If you don't text me, I'll make you regret it.” Allen warned.

Tyki smirked. “Not that I intend to find out how, but I don't see how you could manage.” He informed, looking Allen up and down.

“You'll find out no matter what if you keep implying things like that..”

“I look forwards to it.” Tyki agreed, waving as he left the store, Allen's eyes still trailing after him.

As the door shut and what had just happened hit Allen, the boy sighed.

God, Lavi was right. He was so thirsty.

Recalling how good Tyki's ass had looked in his usual dress slacks, he smirked a little.

Perhaps, though, that wasn't so bad.

#pokerpairweek2k19 #tykillen #poker pair #d.gray man #d.gray-man #fanfiction #fanfic #d.gray man fanfiction #d.gray man fanfic

14 notes · View notes

fatestemptress · 6 years

Text

Speckles of Imperfect Perfection

This is for @wonderfulwinchestersmut ’s ‘Sins of the 600′ challenge. I chose the prompts ‘ edging, bar’. I haven’t written for the SPN fandom before but I have written in the past for Smallville and Roswell on other platforms. I’m new to tumblr so if any of this posts incorrectly, I apologize. And before I age myself any further, I’ll hush and post the darn thing already. Please note, this is unbeta’d. Any and all grammatical errors are mine. (And I’m sure there are PLENTY. :))

Summary: You and Dean Winchester are just hunting partners and friends. He’s made that clear and you agree...totally. You would never be jealous of any of the chicks he flirts with.....right?

Warnings: Smut. Oral (female receiving). Fingering in public. Bathroom sex. Edging.

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4741

Typically, the nights following a successful hunt with the Winchesters either ended with a celebratory drink or collapsing into questionable motel beds, bemoaning various aches and pains. Well, now that you think about it, unsuccessful hunts kind of ended the same way. Except the alcohol is being swallowed in copious amounts and when you fall into the motel bed, you’re too drunk to care about the aches and the pains.

However, tonight, with the grace of whatever God was watching, was considered a win. Having beat the pain in the ass Wendigo with nary a scratch on Dean, Sam or yourself, you were celebrating at the towns bar. And for a small-town bar, it wasn’t lacking in the music department and it certainly wasn’t lacking in small town chicks looking for a quickie with a handsome stranger as there was currently two blonde headed, big breasted bimbos hanging all over the Winchester brothers as they stood at the bar.

And the boys definitely weren’t complaining. Well, Sam was blushing and clearing his throat as if he were trying to regurgitate a frog. (Seriously, sometimes you would think the guy had never had sex before with the way he acted around pushy women. And from the various ear splitting noises you’d heard coming from no name motels in the past, the big guy certainly knew what he was doing.) Dean was being himself, with his twinkling green eyes surrounded by those too long lashes; his hands making gestures as he told whatever cockamamie story he could think of, making both chicks laugh uproariously.

And you weren’t checking him out or anything, but you couldn’t help but watch as his forearms tightened under the folds of your favorite red and beige flannel. Or the way his biceps flexed ever so slightly as he tossed back a shot of his favorite whiskey. Or the long, languid wink he gave the blonde closest to him and you would deny, deny, deny if anyone ever asked you why a moan from low in your throat came out of its own volition at the sight of that wink. And if your stomach decided to betray you and do that twisty thing it does around the elder Winchester, it was only because you were so disgusted by his blatant flirtation attempts.

Because you didn’t like Dean Winchester like that. No way. Not in a million years. He’d made it clear that your relationship was all business. Sure, he flirted with you from time to time. And there was that one instance where you had been stuck in that haunted house in between the walls and you’d felt his hard you-know-what pressing against your soft you-know-where and you had looked into his eyes and saw an unnamable something flicker through them as your breath mingled with his in the narrow space. But the moment had passed quickly, and Dean had made it a point to kiss you on the forehead later and tell you how glad he was that he could count on you to stay levelheaded and how awesome it was to have his brother and close friend watch his back.

And you totally agreed.

Totally.

So it didn’t bother you that he was whispering into the closest girls’ ear as one of her fingers from her delicate unscarred hand, ran over top of his wrist. And that wasn’t jealousy rearing its ugly head from deep in the pit of your denial filled stomach.

Nope. Not. At. All.

With a sigh, (you were just tired, not annoyed thank you very much), you made your way from the booth you had taken in the corner, to the bar to order another drink as the waitress was taking too damn long and, lord, but you needed to feel numb ASAP.

Pulling down the back of your short black flared dress, you ignored the high-pitched giggles of the blonde bimbettes. You leaned over the bar to try and get the bartenders attention, making sure your business wasn’t hanging out the back but your boobs may have made a slightly pronounced appearance in the front if it meant you were going to be served a little quicker.

“Hey gorgeous, what can I get ya’?”

With a smile at the compliment, you raised two fingers, “Two shots of Patron please.”

The dark haired bartender nodded and started pouring the drinks, giving you time to appreciate the fullness of his lips and the flip of his hair.

Not bad looking. And at no point did you consider that his eyes were brown instead of green. Or that his hair was black instead of dirty blonde. Or that his nose was perfectly straight with no little indent in the middle.

Nope. Not. At. All.

You ignored the slightly wide-eyed look he gave you as you downed both shots and handed him some cash, “Two more please.”

“Ummm, guess it’s safe to say that those will be for you and not you and your boyfriend?”

With a tilt of your head, you shrugged, “Nope. No boyfriend here. Just a chick who had a marginally good day and wants to party.”

“I’d hate to see what you do when you have an exceptionally good day.” He said with a small smile as he poured two more.

Leaning over the bar, you ran your fingers over the top of the smooth brown finish, looking at him through your lashes, “On the contrary, you’d love to see what I can do when I really want to celebrate.”

The bartender blinked once, twice and then he let out a small laugh before licking his lips, “Well, uh, I get off in a couple of hours. Why don’t you-.”

“Y/N!”

The gruff voice behind you made your stomach clench and you turned your head around to see a disapproving Dean giving you a look as he crossed his arms in front of him.

“Yeah?” You said in confusion.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at him expectantly and turned around leaning against the bar on your elbows. Crossing your legs at the ankles of your black, short, high heeled boots, you raised an eyebrow, conscious of the way the short skirt of your dress rode up, “Soooo, what’s up?”

You watched Dean’s eyes flicker behind you to the bartender, “I meant alone.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned back to the bartender. Downing the two other shots, you licked off a remnant of liquor left behind on your lower lip, “Thanks, uh…”

“Tom.” He said looking at Dean behind you, wincing at the grouchy face he was probably bearing witness to.

“Tom. I’m Y/N. I’ll be bac- Hey!”

Dean grabbed you at your elbow and dragged you back to your booth in the far corner. He gestured for you to get in and then slid in next to you.

“What the fuck, Dean?!” You spit out, “What’s your problem?”

Ignoring you, Dean lifted a hand to the waitress that passed, (Seriously? Where the hell was she for the past half hour?) ordering two shots of whiskey and a glass of water.

“Ummm, hello?” You said after the waitress left, “Care to tell me what the hell that was about?”

Dean gave you side eye as he rubbed at his bottom lip, “Your underwear was about to show.”

“Huh?”

With a purse to his lips, he sat sideways in the booth facing you as he laid one arm over the top of the leather seat, “Your dress is way too short.”

With a huff of disbelief, you sat back against the wall as far away from his warmth as you could get, “Excuse me DADDY, but you don’t get a say in what I do or don’t wear.”

His eyes flared at your words, “I’m trying to protect you!”

“From who? Guys like you?! ‘Cause guess what Dean? Those little hoochie mamas you and Sam are talking up? Their dresses are literally one sneeze away from indecency.”

“That’s different.”

“What?! Different how?”

Dean shifted slightly forward, his knee resting against yours, “I don’t care what they wear. I don’t care how they get home. I don’t care if they do half the bar.”

With a snort, you cross your arms over your chest, “Yeah, as long as they do you first, right?”

He smirked, “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I DON’T!”

“Then why have you been giving me the death glare since we got here?”

Your heart thumped in nervousness and you flicked away a piece of hair hanging in your face, “No I haven’t.”

Dean leaned even closer, his hand coming up to put the errant piece of hair behind your ear, his eyes stared intensely into yours and you swallowed deeply, “Yes, you have Y/N/N. You’ve been boring a hole into the back of my head for the past hour and I wanna know why.”

Your mouth opened and closed trying to formulate words, but all you could focus on was how close his face was to yours and how the freckles that ran across the bridge of his imperfect nose made you want to reach out and touch them one by one.

Fuck. If you hadn’t made it obvious before, your utter silence was making your interest obvious now, “Dean,” You said quietly, “Do us both a favor and make your way back to the easy lay over there and leave me be.”

Instead of complying, Dean’s hand rested on the exposed skin of your knee and started stroking your skin ever so softly, “Tell me why.” He said quietly, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your lips and smell the sweetness of the whiskey.

Your eyes left his, sliding their way to where his fingers were burning promises into your skin and the flames were starting to crawl their way up your thigh and in between your legs making you shift slightly trying to ease the sudden ache, before raising your eyes back to his, “Why are you doing this?” You asked on a breath, your voice trembling slightly.

A look of hesitation flickered through his eyes before he set his mouth in determination, his jaw hardening, “Y/N/N, I will walk away and go back to pretending we are just friends slash hunting partners. I’ll go back and shut my eyes and act like I didn’t want to rip that bartender in two for looking at you the way he did. I’ll go back to acting like I don’t know you aren’t wearing a bra underneath that little black dress and that I’ve been trying to figure out if you’re wearing a thong since we left the motel. If that’s what you want, I’ll do it.” He leaned forward and the heat from his body was now lying across your side and you closed your eyes for the briefest of seconds drinking it in, “But that’s not what I want, Y/N.”

Maybe it was the buzz from your four tequila shots or maybe you were just tired of pretending, but you leaned into his touch and brought your fingers to the freckles you had spent one morning trying to count as he had fallen asleep beside you watching a movie on some random couch, in some random town. You gave those light brown dots the softest of caresses as you stared into those green eyes that had haunted your nights since you first saw them. As you touched them, you let the wariness fade from your eyes and let them breathe freely with the unnamed emotion you had been feeling for what felt like always.

With his gaze flicking over yours, a small sigh left him as tension released from his shoulders and his hand slid up your leg onto the outside of your thigh and he finally, finally brought those full lips down to your waiting mouth. The shock from the electricity that shot from your lips to your core made you moan into his mouth.

Dean let out a harsh breath and slid his tongue against yours as his hand tightened on your thigh and slid under your skirt. He grabbed a handful of your bare ass, his fingers sliding under the barely there string of your underwear before releasing your mouth.

“Fuck. I’m so glad I was right about the thong.” He huffed against your lips, before sucking in your bottom lip and biting it gently, making your hips jut forward and your legs rub together to ease some of the ache that was starting to pound in your core.

Your hand, which had been so innocently resting on his chest, dropped down trying to gain some leverage and instead brushed up against the rock-hard erection that Dean was currently sporting in his soft jeans causing his hips to buck up into your touch.

“Shit.” You both said in unison and you brazenly looked into his eyes, wrapped your hand around the bulge in his jeans and squeezed.

A growl ran out of his mouth and he kissed you deeply as his fingers, still hidden by your dress, slid their way to the front of your panties and pressed against your clit, before rubbing it with firm circles.

You broke away from his mouth as you placed your head on his shoulder and moaned into his neck, the music drowning out your harsh breaths. The position of the booth, the table and the flounce of your dress effectively preventing anyone from seeing what was going on.

“Dean….God…please…”

Before he could answer, you brought your teeth to the smooth expanse of his neck and bit down gently before licking away the sting and he moaned low in his throat before impatiently pushing your underwear to the side and plunging two fingers inside of you making you arch up into his hand with a strangled sound.

His eyes closed for the briefest of seconds as his fingers easily slid in and out of you, “So wet already.” He growled as his thumb came up and rubbed against your clit making another moan glide out of your throat, “I can’t wait to feel this around my cock.”

“Oh my God.” You whined as you lifted your hips in time with his fingers. You knew if the music and the noise of the bar weren’t there, the sound of your wet core would easily be heard by everyone as you dripped more of your excitement over Dean’s fingers.

“I want to taste you, Y/N/N. Dreamed about it so many times. My mouth right here.” He said as he pressed even harder on your clit, flicking it back and forth as his fingers went even deeper, the tips curving against the rough spot inside of you as his tongue laved along your exposed shoulder before he nipped at it softly.

“Fuck, Dean.” You said desperately, not giving a single damn at how fast this whole situation had progressed, as you felt the delicious tensing in your lower belly, “I’m gonna-.”

Suddenly, his fingers pulled out of you, “Not yet you’re not.” He said in a low voice as you whined at the loss.

“Wh-what?”

He brought his two fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean with a low rumble of approval, as your breath hitched, his eyes never leaving yours, “Mmmm. Even better than I thought you’d taste.” His tongue darted out to the side of his mouth before kissing you deeply. He broke the kiss and he placed his forehead against yours, “I’ve waited too long for this to be over that fast. So, like I said, you don’t get to come. Yet.”

You couldn’t help the noise that slipped out of your mouth before you brought your hand back down to his lap and once again squeezed that delicious bulge in his jeans, delighting in his groan and the small thrust he made into your hand, “That means you have to wait too.”

“Oh Sweetheart, the best part is the waiting.” He thrust into your hand again, “The anticipation.” He slid his hand towards your core again, “Being brought to the edge and then being pulled back.” He fingered the soaked fabric of your panties, “Cause when you finally do get to let go,” He pushed them to the side, “It feels like your whole world explodes.” He shoved his two fingers back into your core making you gasp into his chest as your head fell forward from the delicious sensations running up and down your body.

“Oh FUCK!” Your chest was heaving as he rubbed against that rough spot inside of you once again, making your legs tremble and open wantonly giving him as much access as possible; whining low in your throat as he brought his thumb back against your clit. He nudged your head up with his chin and met your lips roughly with his, gliding his tongue against yours as his fingers plunged faster and faster inside of you. “Ohhhhh.”

And then his fingers abruptly left you.

AGAIN.

Leaving you a heaping mess in the booth as the oblivious waitress laid down the two whiskies and the water Dean had ordered earlier, “Anything else I can get ya’?”

“Thanks but-.”

“Yes!” You interrupted on a slight gasp, “A shot of Patron, please.”

The waitress raised an eyebrow in your direction as she took in your flushed cheeks, before she shrugged, “Sure. Coming right up.”

“You suck.” You said to Dean in a low voice when she was gone.

“And lick and bite….” Dean said on a grin before leaning into you bringing his still wet fingers to your mouth. And, damn you, but you opened your mouth willingly and sucked on the saltiness of your slick until there was nothing left but the taste of Dean. “Fuck Sweetheart, you are so damn hot.” He rumbled. “Let me get some more. I already miss the taste.”

Willingly, you opened your legs to him again as he ran his fingers up and down your slit, before you stayed his hand, “Let’s make this easier.” You looked around and reached under your dress before pulling off the small piece of fabric.

Before you could drop them into your purse, Dean snatched them from your hand, stuffing them in the back pocket of his jeans, “Mine.” He growled as he brought his fingers back to your throbbing pussy and ran his fingers up and down again.

“Hey Guys!”

You both jumped as Sam’s muscular form slid into the leather seat across from you, “Uhhhh, hey…Sam.” You said in a higher pitch than normal as you leaned forward, trapping Dean’s fingers in between your legs.

“Listen, Dean, if you’re not gonna head back over to those girls, which, hey, I totally get, I’m gonna head out and -.”

“Yeah, Sammy. Whatever you want.” Dean interrupted as he slid out of the booth and quickly pulled you up in front of him, effectively hiding the outline of his hard cock, “Y/N isn’t feeling all that well, I’m gonna walk her to the bathroom. See you back at the motel?”

“Well that’s the thing,” Sam said sheepishly as he ran a hand through his hair, “I’m gonna get a separate room.” Sam eyed your flushed chest suspiciously, “Unless of course, you’re gonna bunk with Y/N in her room.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam, before looking through the crowd at the two girls waiting impatiently at the door and made an impressed face at his brother, “The rooms all yours Sammy. Gotta go.”

You let out a small snort before you were pulled none too gently through the bar and down a flight of stairs to one of three unisex bathrooms. Dean opened the door to the farthest one and locked the door behind him, before turning to face you. The look in his eyes made a fresh gush of want throb between your legs and you bit your lower lip as you stopped the sound of your delirium from leaving your mouth.

“On the counter.” His said in a low voice.

Not a single protest was made as you slid onto the wide expanse of the sink’s counter behind you, leaning against the wide bathroom mirror, patiently waiting for him. Dean stalked over to you and opened your thighs as he placed himself in between them. He slid his hands into the soft tresses of your Y/H/C hair and tugged your head back and he tongued your rapidly beating pulse point before nipping his way to the top of your breasts. He slid aside the material of your dress before freeing your nipple into the air. He raised his eyes to yours as his mouth surrounded the peak and he sucked it into his mouth with a hum before lapping it with the tip of his tongue into hardness.

“Don’t forget the other one.” You said boldly as you pulled the other nipple free and pinched it into a hard tip as Dean hummed in appreciation and licked it into his mouth. Gently, he bit down, and you moaned as you rubbed your pussy against his jean covered cock, desperately trying to get any type of friction where you needed it most.

“Scoot down.” Dean rumbled at you, helping your hips move to the edge of the counter before he flipped up the bottom of your dress exposing your naked core to him. “Beautiful.”

You flushed slightly as he stared at your most intimate of places. He crouched down in front of you before he placed the flat of his tongue from the bottom of your heat all the way to the button on top where he sucked it between his lips. Your hips jerked up into his mouth with a cry and you started moving your hips in time with his tongue, gripping the short strands of his hair. Firmly, he pressed down on your hips making you stay still as he eagerly ate at your pussy, shoving his tongue in and out of your soaked hole.

“Oh God, oh God, Oh God….”

The tension was back in your stomach and you were frantic to get to that blissful end and just as you threw your head back, Dean removed his mouth and licked his lips as he stood up breathing heavily, “Not yet.”

“Fuck, Dean! I think I hate you right now.”

Dean huffed out a laugh as he grinned at you, “I promise you won’t be saying that soon.”

Annoyed, you pulled him towards you by his belt and wrapped your legs around his waist, before crashing your mouth against his, slipping your tongue over his lips as you reached down in between you both to undo his belt and pull down his zipper. Finally, finally your hand slid into his black boxer briefs and you grabbed hold of his rock-hard cock and you gasped at the girth and the heavy weight of it. You let out a whine at the thought of it being buried inside of you as you stroked him from root to tip.

With a guttural moan, Dean moved his hips into your hand before he reached into his back pocket. He took out the condom he had there and raised an eyebrow at you in question, “You sure you want to do this?”

“Seriously?” You panted, “Your mouth has been on me and my hand is wrapped around your dick and yet you’re asking if I’m sure? Dean, if you don’t fuck me in the next ten seconds I’m gonna reach down and finger fuck myself until I scream.”

Dean blinked at you before a slow smile slid across his face, “I’m almost tempted to wait and see what happens.”

“You wanna survive the night?”

The sound of the condom wrapper opening filled the empty room and Dean quickly rolled it on. “Turn around. Bend over the counter.”

Without a second thought, you slid off the edge of the granite and bent over the top, holding on to the edge. Facing into the mirror, you caught for the briefest second Dean’s unguarded face as he took in the sight of you. The look of vulnerability that crossed over his features caused something deep within your heart to squeeze and your breath stuck in your throat. When his eyes flicked up into yours in the reflection, the look was gone and he gave you that long wink that you loved so much before he nudged his cock at your entrance, pushing in ever so slightly making you pant against the counter.

“Hold on, Sweetheart.” He whispered before slowly sliding in the rest of the way home making you cry out and arch your back.

“Fuck yes. Do it again.” You begged.

“Mmmmm..” He hummed, before pulling all the way out and plunging back in, balls deep.

“Yesss.”

Before you could catch your breath, the slow and steady act was over, and Dean was starting to pick up the pace, his hips slamming against your ass cheeks and you were screaming, meeting his thrusts as you backed into him. Low curses were leaving Dean’s mouth as you watched him in the mirror throw his head back and piston in an out of you.

“So fucking tight.” He grinded out. “Gonna make me come so hard.”

“Yes. Please. Let me come, Dean. Please.”

He smirked at you asking permission, but you had quickly learned the game, “You gonna make it a good one?” He asked in between gasps, “Gonna come hard all over my cock?”

At his words, your lower belly started clenching. You were holding back with everything in you, but it was inevitable. The way he was rolling his hips, the way he grabbed at your shoulder, before pulling at your hair, was going to be your undoing and you wailed out. “Yes! Yes, please let me come.”

With a grunt, Dean slammed even harder into you, reaching between your legs and rubbing hard circles on your clit, “Now!”

The tension finally snapped and you let out a long sob as you squeezed down on his cock, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your core pulsing for what felt like hours and the pleasure just wouldn’t stop. Somewhere above the deep rabbit hole Dean had plunged you into, you could hear him falling over the edge as he gasped and growled into the air.

“Fuck that was amazing.” You panted, before letting out a surprised squeak as Dean pulled out and forcefully turned you around before slamming his mouth down onto yours as he passionately kissed you, taking your breath away.

“You’re amazing.” He said quietly after reluctantly releasing your mouth, running his thumb over your lower lip.

You searched his eyes as you tried to make sense of what just happened. You raised your hands up to his cheeks and you grazed your fingers over those small little brown spots that made your heart clench with so much unspoken emotion. Because they were uniquely Dean’s and they never changed. They continued to be remnants of who he used to be before life took hold and took him on a ride that was sometimes awful but was also awe inspiring.

One day you’d be able to tell him how you felt. One day you’d be able to look into his eyes and not need a reflection to see how he felt about you without the mask.

But today….today you’d settle for this. Right now.

You kissed him on the mouth with the gentlest of motions, before leaning back with a smirk, “Wanna go see how long it takes for Sam to kick those girls to the curb?”

#Sins Of The 600 #dean x reader #supernatural smut challenge #supernatural smut

218 notes · View notes

aapatterson · 4 years

Text

He stopped outside the diner, casting his gaze over it. It hadn’t changed a bit in the years he’d been gone. Perhaps the biggest difference was the lack of congregating local teens. It had been a real hotspot back in his high school days. Now it seemed to harbor a middle-aged crowd. Then again, maybe the clientele hadn’t changed, just aged.

He finished reminiscing and pushed through the diner’s doors, a chime from the little overhanging bell announcing his arrival. He waved at the waitress behind the counter. Even she hadn’t changed, aside from getting older.

“Well, if it isn’t Chance Cooper!” She looked him over appreciatively. “Thought you moved out to the city and made it big. What happened?!” She gasped spying his sling.

“Nah, Miss Betsy. Just moved out for police academy. Just a cop who got himself shot.” He shook his head. “I’m surprised you remember me.”

“Hard to forget a handsome one like you, hun.” She fluttered her thick artificial lashes at him. “You were always so polite, too. You still with that pretty little gal? What was her name?”

“Dana and yes, ma’am.” He chuckled. “Ten years and two sons strong.” He held up and wiggled his ring finger.

“Good! You best treat her right, ya hear! She’s a good one. And bring those little ones around some time!”

“Yes, ma’am.” He agreed with an easy smile.

“All right. You go sit down. I’ll be with ya in just a minute, hun.”

He nodded and made his way further into the diner, spotting the friend he was supposed to be meeting. The big man stood up upon noticing him and grabbed him in a bear hug. “Chance, my man!”

“Butch, my shoulder.” He groaned as the big guy squeezed.

“Aw, yeah. Sorry about that, man.” Butch set him down and clapped his shoulder . . his bad shoulder. “Sorry.” Butch apologized again when he grunted with a wince. Butch wasn’t known for his delicate touch.

“Don’t worry about it.” He grunted out, adjusting his sling as he slipped into the booth.

“So, how ya feelin’?” Butch opened the conversation.

“Better. The time off’s been nice.” He downplayed his condition. It was only a shoulder wound, hardly anything life threatening. His partner had suffered much worse.

“Heard about yer partner.” Butch commented sympathetically.

“Yeah. At least, he’s alive. Won’t be rejoining the force though.” He returned soberly.

“That why ya decided to move back to town? I heard the city’s tough but didn’t take ya for one to be scared away.” Butch wondered, no accusation in his voice.

“Yes and no. Some idiot from the station called Dana and told her I’d been shot without waiting for further information. She thought she was coming in to claim a corpse. She was really shaken up.” He explained. “She’s always been concerned about me not coming home one day, you know, but this just really hit it home for her. She wouldn’t ask me to quit. She knows how much I love this job. But I could see how much it was stressing her, so I opted for a transfer. Things are quieter here, less risk.”

“I get it, man.” Butch nodded somberly. “Can’t be leavin’ her and those boys on their own.”

“No. I can’t.” He paused. “I’ve actually been thinking about retiring from the force completely.” He admitted quietly.

“What? Ya mean, like, for good?” Butch asked surprised, just as Miss Betsy came around. They paused their conversation long enough to give their orders and she wandered back to the kitchen after a grateful ‘thank you’ from Chance.

“Yeah.” He sighed and leaned back against the booth. “We’ve been talking about trying for baby number three.” He shook his head. “I want to be here for it, ya know. For all of them.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Butch nodded. “But ya love this job, man! What else ya gonna do? I mean, I can’t see ya stuck behind some desk. Ya crave ta be out and about. Out there. Doing real good. Ya always were a goody-goody.”

He huffed and shook his head at the friendly teasing. Sometimes he wondered how he and Butch had even managed to be friends. They had little in common in high school besides both being on the football team. Butch had been a regular bully, even to him. But he could hold his own and, after a showdown behind the school, they never fought again, even became friends despite their differences. They were still good friends after twelve years.

His eyes wandered as he reminisced and he caught site of another patron sitting in a seat against the back wall only a couple booths away. He noticed the man because the guy was staring right at him. He didn’t look away or try to pretend he hadn’t been rudely watching when Chance met eyes with him. He just kept staring, his chin in his hand, studying him unabashedly. He studied the man back. He looked younger and on the smallish side but didn’t appear to have any weapons. Other than exhibiting a shameless lack of manners, he didn’t seem to be a threat.

“I don’t know. You’re right.” He admitted, turning back to his conversation while keeping an occasional eye on the nosy stranger. “I’m still considering possibilities, but I can’t say I ever really saw myself doing anything else.” He sighed. “I want to figure it out before my paid leave is used up, though.”

“Well, good luck to ya, man. If there’s anything I can do ta help, you just let me know. I could put in a good word for ya somewhere if ya like.”

“Thanks, Butch.” He replied. “I’ll let you know.”

“No problem, man.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Miss Betsy delivered their meals and they began eating, only occasionally interrupted by sparse inquiries into each other’s current lives.

“So, you with someone?” He asked, sending a quick glance back to the stranger who was still watching them.

“Ya say it like I can’t keep a steady girl.” Butch retorted.

He looked back to his friend and smirked, raising an expectant eyebrow.

“Yeah, all right.” Butch grumbled. “Her name’s Vanessa. I think she might be the one this time.”

“You say that about all of them.” He teased back.

“Yeah, but I mean it this time!”

“You mean it every time.” He chuckled.

“Shut up.” Butch snapped half-heartedly.

“Well, I hope you’re right this time.” He returned seriously. “It’s about time you settled down.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t all marry our high-school sweethearts.” Butch grumbled.

“True enough.” He smiled. He counted himself truly blessed. He glanced back up at the stranger. The man had finally taken a break from his blatant observations to study his phone instead. “Hey.” He whispered quietly, continuing once he knew he had his friend’s attention. “There’s a man sitting along the back wall there.” He gestured with a twitch of his head. “You know him?”

Butch raised a brow and turned in his seat to get a good look at the man. Chance would be more concerned by the obvious display of examination if the other man had bothered to show any shame in the behavior.

“Nah.” Butch turned back around. “Why? He botherin’ ya?”

“No, not really. He’s just been staring a lot.”

Butch twisted around to get one last look. “Don’t know who he is. Does seem familiar somehow, though. Makes me want to shove his head in a toilet.”

“Really? I thought you’d outgrown that nonsense.” Chance sighed.

“Didn’t say I was gonna do it. Some guys just inspire the urge, ya know.”

“No, not really.” He chuckled.

“Want me ta get rid of ‘im?” Butch offered.

“No. He’s not doing any harm.”

“Yet.” Butch grumped.

Their conversation moved on and the man seemed to return to minding his own business. They finished their meals and he struggled to pull out his wallet with his good arm.

“Don’t worry about it. I got it.” Butch offered. “Consider it a welcome home gift.”

“Thanks, man.”

They stopped at the cash register and paid after Miss Betsy rang them up. He thanked her for the meal and she waved them a friendly goodbye. They left the diner together, stopping outside to wrap up their conversations before going their separate ways.

“Tell Dana I said ‘hi’ and give me a call when ya get all settled. I haven’t seen those boys in forever.” Butch demanded.

“Sure.” He chuckled. “You’ll have to bring this Vanessa around so we can meet her.”

“Yeah, no problem. I think she and Dana would get along great.” Butch agreed.

The door dinged behind them and just as he turned to head to his car a smaller form collided with him. He grunted and winced when he strained his shoulder attempting to steady the other person. Before he even got a good look at the man, Butch grabbed him by his jacket and yanked him away.

“What are ya doin’, ya little punk?!” He yelled, nearly lifting the short man by the scruff of his coat.

“S-sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” The man stuttered.

After getting a good look, Chance recognized him. It was the man who had been staring in the diner. He was holding a large phone in one hand with some kind of game app open.

“Let him go, Butch.” The guy was just another one of those phone zombies, too lost in his phone to pay attention to where he was going.

“Ya sure?” Butch growled. “I could lock him up in the station for the night.” He offered.

“He hasn’t broken any laws.” He shook his head. “Let him go.”

Butch growled at the young man and pushed him away. “Keep yer nose out of that phone and pay attention ta where yer goin’, ya little punk. I best not catch ya driving with that thing!” He yelled after him as the guy made his escape.

“Really, Butch. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yet.”

Chance shook his head. “All right. I better get home. I’ll see ya later, man.”

“Sure thing.” Butch returned before ambling over to his car, climbing in and taking off faster than he probably should have.

Chance shook his head as the car quickly disappeared. Butch had followed him to police academy and actually made something decent of himself, returning to their hometown to join the police force, but he was still the same old Butch. At least, he had chosen to redirect his bullying tendencies towards law breakers . . and the occasional public annoyances.

He ambled over to his car and reached into his pocket to find his keys. He pulled them out with a confused scowl when he found a napkin caught up in them. He untangled the napkin wondering if he had stuffed it into his pocket without remembering doing so. As he did, he caught sight of letters written on it and unfolded it to read it. ‘Looking for work?’ He stared at the simple question followed by a time and address. It was highly suspicious. It didn’t even leave any indication of what kind of work was being offered. No number or name, just a place and time. He studied the address. It looked legit at least, a place downtown if he remembered correctly. But how did the napkin even end up in his pocket?

The man! The strange, nosy phone-zombie guy that had obviously been eavesdropping on his conversation and had plowed into him shortly after they’d left the diner. Maybe it hadn’t been an accident at all. But why go through all the trouble? And why him? If this were a scam or trap, he was hardly a low risk target, even with only one good arm. He stuffed the napkin back into his pocket and climbed into his truck as he continued to ponder the suspicious message. Legit or not, he wouldn’t be doing anything with it tonight. He needed to get home and help his wife get things unpacked before they put the kids to bed.

Click here to continued reading on Wattpad.

#Books #Adventure #Crime #Investigations #Private Investigators #Thriller #Suspense #Paranormal #Mystery #Friendship #Character Growth #Original Work #Fiction

0 notes