#showing love through work. staying up all night working on cases for friends making folders and conspiracy boards so they can all pass... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atalho-s · 3 years ago

Text

Light Up The Dark

Part 1 | June

pairing: bartender!tom x famous!reader

warnings: some smut +18 (in this particular chapter it’s nothing TOO explicit, but miniors be aware), swear words?, drinking, let me know if anything else!

words: 4.9 k

summary: y/n is a famous horror writer. Her books are on the lips of the people and her face is on all the magazine covers of promising young people.

She has just moved to Los Angeles, the city of celebrities and luxury, when she starts to get a writer's block as she starts writing her newest book. A way to distract herself and seek inspiration leads her to have her destiny mapped out with a simple waiter named Tom who has a delicious british accent.

What happens when her inspiration comes back only after she spends a night with him and she only manages to write after being in the company of that guy she just met? Maybe he'll become her newest addiction.

a/n: english it’s not my first language, so i’m sorry for any mistake! this is a series i started writing a while ago, i hope y’all enjoy :) the reader it’s from brazil here, but you can replace from any country you want lol And obv i’m not from LA and never been there, so if i say something out of reality it’s bc of that 😂

"June arrived at the restaurant, sat down near the bar and looked around vaguely. The strange people's faces made her think better and maybe drink a shot of tequila too.

She opened his folder with the horrifying photos of the mysterious case. She felt sick to her stomach.

People said that by then she should have been used to see this kind of thing, but that was repulsive.

She wish the nightmare she had the night before was a way to solve that puzzle, but believing in the afterlife now wouldn't help her... If...If..."

- Damn it... - Y/n slammed her fist on the table. - Writer's block sucks. - She said and took the last sip of her tea.

It s been a week since she couldn't write anything. She would write maybe two paragraphs, maybe even three if she got lucky, but she always ended up erasing it, because she always turned into something meaningless or too cliche.

Damn the time she had promised to deliver something to her editor by the end of the month. But she hadn't counted on the lack of ideas when she agreed to that.

She got up from her chair in frustration and crossed her arms, pacing, as if her creativity had gone out for a walk and she was waiting impatiently for it to come back.

Why had she agreed to write a new book in the first place? She didn't need money. Their previous four books were already making huge profits, and they were going to make a new television series based on one of them.

So why writing another one? Maybe because, she had been having too many nightmares lately. Many family and friends told her to see a psychologist, see if she didn't have some hidden trauma. But looking for a psychologist? Admitting your weaknesses and personal things to a stranger? Never. That would be horrifying.

Writing helped. Transferring his fears to pages was hers gift. When she wrote she didn't have nightmares, didn't see things, wasn't sad. It was like a drug, a calming medicine.

Maybe fame was also making her restless lately. She hated being the spotlight, being the magazine cover of promising young people. She hated to see her name highlighted. But she loved having readers, yes. She loved when someone felt good reading her books or in the good sense of the word: terrified by her stories.

At the height of her 25 years, he never thought her books would become famous at that point. She had always enjoyed writing since she was a child, but working with it was just an unattainable dream. Until, at age 19, she quit her hideous job as a hotel receptionist and decided to publish her first story.

Obviously there were many rejections, until a publisher agreed to publish their work. From then on, her books became more and more known. They called her the new horror genius, the mystery queen, and sometimes even "Stephen King's lost daughter."

She didn't think it was all that. But she accepted the descriptions gladly. No wonder her books didn't come out of the top spot on the best sellers.

Another thing that motivated her to continue with that story, was a phrase from her own idol mentioned, Stephen King: "good stories are those that stay in the head for a long time". And God only knew how that story had been with her for far too long. She always wanted to put it down on paper, so here she was trying to put into words what her head brought up as random thoughts.

But now she was having one of his first creative blocks. Obviously she had already had it with previous books, but nothing as frustrating as this one. She had been trying hard for days, which was exhausting.

She looked at the clock on the wall: 11pm. Who knows if she took another break before starting writing again? Maybe it would help to come up with more ideas.

She thought about watching a show or movie, but he wasn't in the mood. She looked at her long polka dot pajamas under her favorite warm robe and snorted. Go out? On a Thursday night? On a cold night? No way.

But what if it helped her have more writing material? Watching people on the street really helped. If June, the character in her book, was in a bar, maybe if she went to one too it would help to have something to build on.

Writers did it all the time. Describe places that already existed, situations similar to which they lived. So, it wouldn't be new. Maybe she'd even put the location in her tribute if helped she got out of her creative block.

She took a deep breath and went to take a shower. It was decided, she would go out. She put on her best jeans, a Ramones T-shirt with a leather jacket. It wasn't a fancy outfit, but she didn't intend to go somewhere fancy anyway. Her stylist would have been dying to see her now, but she didn't care one bit.

She went out pressing the bottom of the elevator. Y/n had lived on the top floor of a building for 2 months, right in downtown Los Angeles. Sometimes she didn't even know why she chose to live there, she hated the big city and what came with it: paparazzi, celebrities, crazy people who feel superior, wealth and luxury. She came from a humble family, so she always felt like an outsider.

Y/n arrived downstairs and left the condominium calling a taxi that was passing in the street just in time. She walked in and closed the door, crossing her arms, trying to ward off the cold.

- Good night miss, where are you going? - the driver asked looking at her in the rearview mirror.

- Good night... Actually I don't know, do you have any suggestions for a bar around here?- she asked looking out the window. She didn't even bother to look for suggestions for places nearby.

- Well, it depends on what you're looking for... Something luxurious or something fun? - He said and a smiled played on the corer of her mouth. Luxurious was the opposite of fun indeed.

- Something fun, of course.

- So, I suggest the new Seven Devils bar, it's less than 20 minutes from here... - he said.

- Interesting name... Could be. - She said shrugging.

- The name is kinda creepy, but the place is cozy and welcoming, I went once. - the driver said starting and entering the street that was practically empty for being a weekday.

- Cool... - Y/n said looking at the city lights through the window.

After nearly twenty minutes the taxi stopped in front of what appeared to be a small door with a security guard in front of it. The neon sign indicated the name of the place, it seemed a mysterious place for those who passed by without knowing it.

- Thanks. - Y/n said handing the driver the money.

- You're not the Y/n Y/l/n? I didn't want to say anything, but I'm a fan of you, I love your books, they help me pass the time while I wait for passengers. - the driver asked turning a little with one of the Y/n books in his hand. - Could you sign this for me?

- Sure! - Y/n spoke excitedly taking the book from his hand and leaving a message along with her signature. - Thanks for the tip of the place. Have a good night... - She said opening the door.

- No, thank you, have a good night miss. -he said and she smiled closing the door and the taxi left leaving her alone looking at the door in front of her.

She approached the security guard who wished her good night, giving her room to enter, after she showed her ID. Y/n entered a little afraid of what she would find. The door behind her closed and she looked around. It was really cozy as the taxi driver said, it had a part with several tables, which were a little empty and a bar with stools around. The place had a good atmosphere, one of those that people go there to meet and chat with friends, in the background there was a kind of pop song that she wasn't sure if she knew or not.

He slowly approached the bar and sat down on one of the stools. A woman with several tattoos appeared behind the counter and came to serve her.

- Good night! How can I serve you?- she asked with a smile.

- Good night... Hm... Maybe a martini? - Y/n said taking a look at the drinks on the shelf behind the attendant.

- Okay, I'll be back with your order, anything else?

- That's it for now, thanks. - She replied smiling and the attendant walked away.

Y/n kept looking around, watching people, maybe looking for some inspiration. Something that would turn the key in his mind. Many who were there were in groups of friends and were talking animatedly, laughing. Some young and some older, in suits and ties, perhaps coming out of work.

Until one guy in particular caught her attention. He wore the black uniform with the name of the place, with an apron tied around the waist of the same color, and was picking up some glasses from some empty tables. He had dark brown hair slicked back and eyes the same color, very expressive and large. A boy's face from the outside, but on the inside had a mysterious and confident air.

He balanced a tray full of things with an greatest skill in one hand and smiled at some people, he seemed charming because everytime he left a table he left people whispering and giggling embarrassed behind his back.

He walked over and entered the bar placing the tray behind the counter, came close to the other attendant who already had the Y/n martini ready and she could hear him talking, soon realizing he had a perfect accent.

- Sally, you can leave it to me, go take your break. Whose martini is it?- he asked taking a look around.

- Oh thank you, my feet are killing me. It's the girl over there. -she said indicating Y/n with her head and he looked at her, making Y/n realize that she was staring at him for too long, so she looked away embarrassed.

- Okay. - he said looking at where Y/n was sitting and stopped in front of her with the glass. - Good night miss, here is your order. - He spoke with a british accent. Only at that moment did Y/n realize that his accent was well loaded and God only knows how much she loved that accent.

- Oh yes, thank you very much. - She said raising her eyes to look at him and smiled then he blinked with one of his eyes and gave her one more look, before going to deliver another order to a man who was sitting a few benches away.

Y/n felt a shiver all of a sudden, that boy had made her legs a little weak and she didn't really know why. I mean, he was handsome, very handsome and he had a special charm, but it wasn't that much, was it? Maybe it was because it had been a while since she'd dated anyone. When was the last time? Two months ago? Since she had moved in she hadn't gone out with anyone, she had locked herself in her apartment and was writing like crazy. She didn't have time to go out, not even with her friends when she was working on a new book. Which brought them dissatisfaction from time to time, not just because she didn't hang around with them, but because she didn't even go out on one-night stands.

She never been the one that going out with a guy just for sex, she had to have some good first dates and maybe she would take him to see her apartment or go to his apartment. Friends of hers thought she was too old in her spirit, but what can he do? If she couldn't be bad girl once in a while. For a moment she thought, "For this english guy I would be" but shook her head away from the thoughts. She went back to analyzing him, dammit why did he have to be so fit? She could see that the T-shirt he was wearing highlighted his muscles that were only left to her imagination, she found herself biting her lip a bit and snatching her martini off the counter, taking a big sip.

The attendant approached again, drying some glasses with a towel, and took one more look in her direction where she looked away quickly making him smirk. He stopped in front of her again, bracing her arms on the counter, making her swallow hard. He didn't know why she was so nervous, he was just a guy, no biggie.

- I like the shirt. - He pointed with a smile, which made her think he had a beautiful and endearing smile. She looked down and then looked at him smiling too.

- Thank you... Ramones is everything... - she said and drank the last sip of her drink placing the empty glass in front of her right after. - Can you serve one more?

- Sure...- he said, still smiling, took the bottle and filled his glass again. - Trying to distract yourself on a thursday night?

- Yeah... you could say yes... - she said taking another sip. - Have you worked here for a long time?

- In fact, it's been almost six months since I moved to the United States and I've been working here for four months. -he said putting the towel that was in his hand on his shoulder.

- Hm... You're from London?

- I am, wow how did you find out? - he asked raising an eyebrow playfully and she smiled.

- Yeah, your accent really doesn't give out anything ... - she said and he gave a low laugh making her have more goose bumps.

- You also have a different accent, have you lived here for a long time? - he didn't know who she was, which was good. But it also wasn't like she was recognized all the time, despite her face being on magazine covers, she was still a writer, so she was only recognized by those who liked to read or who vaguely remembered her face.

- I was born in Brazil actually, but I've lived here for years, lived in another city for almost five years and now I've decided to come to Los Angeles two months ago...

- I see ... - he said organizing some drinks that were on the counter. - Do you like it here?

- More or less... It's a busy city, isn't it?

- Yeah, it's not for anyone. - He said shrugging. - I like it, I like the rush, but the glamor part really isn't me. - the attendant said and she smiled.

- You're right... I mean, I don't like the glam too much either... - She looked away at her nails.

- What do you work with? - he asked and she looked at him again.

- I'm a writer...

- Nice! What do you write? - He asked curious looking at her with attention.

- I write horror and thriller books.

- Interesting... I would never read, actually I'm not much of a reader anyway, but I wouldn't, because I'm terrified of those things. - He said crossing his arms and she laughed.

- Oh, it's not that terrifying, it's just stories. - She said leaning her elbows on the counter.

- Still, I prefer to have my good night's sleep intact. - He said and she laughed making him smile looking at her.

When she was about to say something, a customer signaled for him and he excused himself going towards the man who was furthest away.

Y/n sighed. She still didn't have any new ideas about her story, but she was entertained by that conversation. She liked not being recognized, she liked him not being interested in her books, for a moment she felt oblivious to anything, liked feeling disconnected from her world.

He returned shortly after and they started talking again. They talked about bands, movies, superficial celebrities and even politics (an important topic in Y/n's vision, who was very firm with her ideas, thankfully he had passed the test). She found out that he was the same age as her and that he moved to the US to look for something that would give him money or a perspective on life, ended up getting that job and intended to stay until he found a different area. The hours passed and they kept finding subjects to give their opinion or questions to ask each other.

- Did you go to college? - she asked after a while.

- No, I don't think I'm smart enough for that, or have the patience. What about you?

- Everyone is smart enough. I started going to business school, but I dropped out when my books started to pay off...

- Wow, your books should give you a good amount of money to be able to drop out of college and dedicate yourself to them...

- Yeah... You could say that. - She shrugged.

- You know looking at you closer like that...- he said getting a little closer and she held her breath for a moment. - I've seen you somewhere...

- Really? - She said raising her eyebrow and drinking from a straw, now with a different drink.

- I don't know, you're not strange to me... - he said putting his hand on his face thoughtfully.

- Well, I hope it's from somewhere nice. - She smiled and he smiled back looking at her. - Do you have a girlfriend or are you married? - Y/n asked and regretted a little, what was she thinking? He wasn't married, as he didn't have a ring on his finger as she'd noticed. But what was her intention by asking that question? She didn't even know, she just knew it had escaped her.

- Neither darling. - He replied smiling a little mischievously and she felt butterflies with the way he called her by that nickname and with that accent. - How about you?

- Neither ... - She replied avoiding looking at him, those eyes hypnotized her and she didn't like to feel at his mercy of a guy she had just met. She took the cell phone disguising but paid attention to the time. - My God, it's already 2:00 in the morning! I completely missed the time.

- I think the company ended up distracting you. - He said still not taking his eyes off her and she felt her cheeks heat up.

- Yeah, the chat was really good... But I have to go... - she said getting up.

- If you wait I can take you home, I'm already leaving, the bar is already closing. - he said and Y/n looked around seeing that some waiters were already collecting some things from the tables.

She thought for a moment, take a ride home with him? It didn't make sense, she had just met him, but at the same time she had enjoyed talking to him so much. He didn't seem like a bad person, but even so you would never know for sure. At the same time she never took any chances, why not let that pretty boy take her home? Finally, she thought: you know what? Screw this.

-Erm, ok...- She shrugged. - I'll go to the cashier to pay and wait for you outside?

- No need to pay darling, it's on me. - He spoke winking and she smiled.

- Oh no, I'll pay no problem...

- Your company has paid off your debt, it's ok. - He replied and she took a deep breath rolling her eyes.

- If you insist...- she said giving up.

He came out from behind the counter and motioned for her to follow him, arriving at the front door where the security was.

- Tuwaine, you can let her pass, it's on me. - He told the big guy and he looked at the english man, sawing his eyes suspiciously and smiling right away. Making Y/n laugh inside.

- Meet you outside? It will only take a few minutes - the attendant said and she nodded, leaving in the cold night.

She leaned against the door with her thoughts. She had come here just to get inspiration and to have her creative back, but she was coming home with an english guy. She didn't even recognize herself anymore, but to say she wasn't anxious (in a good way) was a lie.

She was lost in her thought, until minutes later he came out wearing a denim jacket, which made him look even more handsome.

- Let's go? - He said and she followed him to an old car parked right in front of the bar.

He opened the door for her to get in and she thanked him by sitting in the passenger seat, pulling on her seat belt as he closed the door. He sat down next to her right away, also putting on his belt.

- Hey, before we go: I didn't ask for your name! If you're going to take me home at least I have to know that- she asked realizing that she didn't even know that yet and he looked towards her smiling.

- Tom Holland. - He said stretching his hand. - Nice to meet you.

- Y/n Y/l/n- she said, squeezing his hand. And you can't deny that she felt butterflies in her stomach as she felt her skin on hers.

- Your name is not strange to me, I must have read it in one of your books in some shop window. - He said starting and leaving with the car.

- Yeah, who knows ... - she said and he turned on the radio leaving the volume low.

They were exchanging a few words until she indicated that they had arrived at the building where she lived. Tom parked and looked up in a daze.

- Wow, you really have money... - he said and she took off her belt turning towards him.

- A little bit...- she replied crossing her arms. - Well, thank you so much for the ride...

- You're welcome darling. - He said turning his eyes to her. Again that nickname that sounded perfect on his lips.

She turned around, but when she was about to open the door, she turned back to Tom, who was leaning with one hand on the steering wheel and watching her with attention. The next words escaped her again and she was afraid she'd regret it.

- Tom, do you want to come in? - She spoke still holding the door and the boy smiled.

- Sure ... - he said taking the key from the ignition and she shook her head slightly leaving.

He followed her and they entered the building. Tom looked at everything admired which made Y/n smile a little to herself. They entered the elevator and she pressed the penthouse button causing him to raise an eyebrow.

- You really must be a great writer. - he said and she laughed.

He leaned his back against the elevator wall, putting his hands in his pocket and looking her up and down, making her shy. He kept looking at her and it was making her nervous.

They were silent until the elevator opened after a while and they got out. Y/n put a password on the door and it swung open with a small click, she took held the latch and motioned for Tom to enter.

After the two of them entered she closed the door again behind her and watched Tom standing further on, looking around.

- Nice apartment...- he finally said.

- Thank you... - She leaned against the table at the entrance. She didn't know what to do next, maybe it had been a bad idea to bring him here. Why was she so impulsive that night? -Tom, I don't know why I invite you in, sorry...-she said a little nervous looking at her feet. He turned towards her, approaching and stopping in front of her.

- Are you sure you don't know? - He asked and she raised her head, seeing those brown eyes. She bit her bottom lip watching him closely. Damn he knew how to hypnotize her. He took another step and placed a hand on either side of her on the table, cornering her - Your body says otherwise, love... - he said softly feeling her breath hitch slowly and approaching his face to hers, alternating the look of your eyes to her lips. Y/n found another nickname that was perfect when he say.

He finally closed the distance by pressing his lips to hers. His lips were soft and warm, as if they were meant to be kissed. She returned the kiss willingly and when she laced her fingers in his neck, he licked her lower lip slowly asking for passage in which she opened them letting his tongue explore her mouth.

His hands gripped her waist and roamed her body greedily. As he kissed her, he caught her from behind her legs and sat her down on the entrance table, biting her bottom lip shortly after, provoking a low moan from her. He smiled against her lips and trailed kisses to her neck, attacking her skin with desire, making her throw her head back a little.

She grabbed his hair and pulled him back so she could kiss him. Which he gladly reciprocate. His kiss was urgent, but without being rude, he tasted like mint, making her want him even more.

His fingers found the button of her pants and he undid them quickly pulling them out, tossing them aside. When he came back he took her calf and kissed her leg up to her thighs, making her sigh. He moved up the kisses until he caught the hem of her shirt and pulled it up a little, kissing her stomach as well. Y/n didn't know what to do but feel goose bumps with every touch he gave. He then hiked up her shirt and she lifted her arms where he pulled her off, tossing along with her pants that were also on the floor.

She was just wearing her underwear in front of him, it made her a little excited and embarrassed at the same time, but the way he looked at her made her feel confident. He went back to kissing her body, this time kissing each covered breast in turn and reaching for the back of her bra and opening it. She helped him out tosiing to the side and he stood between her legs just watching her for a second, making her feel her cheeks heat up.

- Perfect... - he said with a low voice, as it was for himself and bent down to her breasts kissing each one of her nipples and then sucking them deliciously. Y/n moaned and bit her lip to keep her moans from getting louder, tangling her fingers in his hair again. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds and smiled slightly lowering his kisses to where she wanted him most.

He reached the hem of her panties and pulled them out slowly, kneeling between her legs and she looked at him with expectation. He returned the look and gave that smirk again.

- Look at you darling.... - That damn nickname. - Extremely wet and I haven't even touched you yet... - he said approaching and devouring her right away making her throw her head back with pleasure, biting her lips again to not sound so pathetic with her moans that insisted in wanting get out. - Oh, please don't drown out those wonderful sounds you make, I want to hear how good I'm making you feel. - He said in a husky tone, returning to his task after and she parted her lips letting her moans spread through the apartment.

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

Y/n woke up the other day in her bed. She didn't even know how she got there, she just had flashes of the night before and how good she felt in each moment. She stretched and looked to the side seeing she was alone. She got up and put on a robe who was on the side of the bed.

After going to the bathroom and doing her morning hygiene routine she walked around the apartment looking around to see if Tom was somewhere else in the house, but found nothing. Which was understandable, it wasn't like she expected him to stay there and have breakfast with her and all.

She arrived in the kitchen and made black coffee and lean against the countertop. What that simple waiter had done to her was ridiculous, in a good sense, she felt great and kept remembering that accent that was stuck in her mind. He had consumed her in a way she had never imagined it she could be.

Taking a deep breath she set down turning her notebook on. Then opened her book and started writing.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #bartender!tom #waiter!tom #tom holland x famous!reader #bartender!tom x writer!reader #tom holland series

119 notes · View notes

binniesthighs · 4 years ago

Note

hellooo i have read your Han fic and it's so gooooooood you really know how to portray the one and only Han Jisung omgggg. can i ask for a seventeen smut? if it's okay with you. since I'm into Jeonghan these days i really want to know how will Jeonghan react if you two arw bffs since high school then one day things changed, both of you began being so touchy and flirty then he challenges you if you can resist him omgggg like he is so cocky and confident aaaaaah BYE-

aweee thank you so much! I love love love writing for the one and only Han Jisung!! thank you so much for your patience as well anon I’m soooo sorry that this took me an age to get out, but I hope that ya like the product hehe 💕

yjh was here | reader x jeonghan |

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x yoon jeonghan

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: friends to lovers, bit of a comfort fic, bestfriend!jeonghan, cockyandflirty!jeonghan as we love him, lowkey mutual pining, mingyu, wonwoo, soonyoung side characters, coworkers au, mentions of food and mild food dares, mentions of alcohol+getting drunk, mentions of divorce (past), marking, reach-around teasing (r receiving), fluffy unprotected sex, body praising, spicy truth or dare, cuddles

Word count: 4.4k

Yoon Jeonghan had a habit. It wasn’t the worst of habits, but it was the kind that would clutter up your life. Often, you would wonder why he would do it, and why he hadn’t stopped: not even after you had mentioned it so many times.

It had started in high school. High school, that eternity away now. Luckily, your past was riddled with memories of him, and all of the little things that you had shared together; lunches, late nights studying, throwing littler paper wads at eachother from across the room. He would pull at the tie around your neck that was a part of the school uniform just to get a rise out of you. Jeonghan would nap during class, and you would be the one to wake him up with the flick of your finger. On cold walks to school, he would lend you his scarf, and on hot summer nights you’d stay out searching for snacks until sleep drew your eyes down, and he’d let you lean on him the whole walk home.

yjh was here

He wrote it on the first exam you had ever failed in your whole life.

Conversely, he had gotten nearly a perfect score. He was annoyingly good at everything he did. That, or he was just really good at cheating his way through things. When you thought about it, it was likely the latter that was more accurate.

At first you thought it was a joke. It was as if he was taunting you for failing miserably at mathematics II. You were never good at math anyway.

The second time he wrote it was when you had fallen asleep in class. It wasn’t a common occurrence. He’d call you a baby for being scared to fall asleep during class for fear of being startled awake by the teacher. However, this was the week that had been the longest for you: the week that everything fell apart.

Even into your mid twenties, your mother still would never tell you why your father had left that week and you never saw it fit to prod more.

He had written it on a scrap piece of paper after getting you a strawberry milk and leaving it for you on your desk.

yjh was here

Since then, he had taken the opportunity to write it everywhere he could manage. Suddenly his little scribbles filled up the margins of your notebooks; on post-it notes--he’d even etch it onto the skin on your arm in soft blue pen ink. Later, when the two of you had gone on to college, he would sneak into your dorm to write it everywhere he could find. No matter how many times you would erase it from your little whiteboard by your desk, he’d always manage to write it over, noticing immediately that it was gone.

Today, you had noticed that he had slipped it into your legal folder, among other more boring and business-y things and you had no idea how it had gotten there. It must have been sometime the day before, as he had written it on a napkin from the catering company.

yjh was here.

In all the many years that he had followed you from place to place, you must have amassed hundreds of his little notes. You kept the ones that he would give you at work tucked away in a desk, often forgetting that they were kept there until you would stumble upon them, tugging a little smile at your face. The rest of them you kept at home in a little box in your closet, even deeper away, never really knowing why. The act of simply having them was satisfaction enough, in fact, you never really minded a little clutter.

☆彡

With eyes drooping, you scratched away on your yellow note pad, writing a string of nonsense words that sounded important from the presentation. The red setting setting sun reminded you that it was your least favorite time of day: the time where the last work hour of the day would appear to stretch into twenty. Under the table your scratchy cotton work-pants felt even more scratchy than usual. Somewhere above you, the penetrating white fluorescents buzzed like flies.

With a little tap on your shoulder, Yoon Jeonghan was sitting next to you as he always was. Compared to him, you felt as if you looked like an utter mess. Just as he was annoyingly good at everything, there was never a day that he came into work looking less than perfection. Today it was a tweed two piece with a pressed shirt underneath as well as a navy tie adorning his beautifully slender neck. Around his face befell his deeply dark strands of hair which pricked the edges of his rounded wire glasses.

“This is so boring.” He had mouthed to you, adding a pout to the end of his sentence.

You formed the sound on your lips, “Shhhhh”

“I’m just saying!”

“Pay attention.”

You turned your head back to pretend to care about what your boss had to say. Every fifteen seconds or so you would nod your head to make it appear as if you were diffusing the information he was giving out.

Another tap on your shoulder and Jeonghan displayed his pen to you to draw your attention to the margin of your quarterly report print out.

you look really beautiful today, he had written

“Stop it!” You accidentally hissed, garnering the attention of your nosy and equally bored coworker sitting across from you.

This time you mouthed out the words, “No I don’t.”

“~yessss~” Jeonghan curled out his words with his tiny creeping smile

Your knee bumped into his under the ginormous desk.

“Pay attention, ‘Han.”

“Is there something you would like to add L/n?” Your supervisor’s voice cracked in the silence of the room.

“N-no sir.” your head bowed in repentance.

He elder man tsked in a little sound with his teeth. “I know that we’re getting to the end of the day folks, but let’s just get through this all so we can get home...”

Jeonghan’s tweed pants made a little screeching sound against the fabric of yours when you bumped him again under the guise of the desk.

“Screw you.”

Your friend met your remark with a wink, biting the cap of his pen while his eyes wandered down to show you another little message:

yjh was here

and I’m excited for tonight

☆彡

Wednesdays were customary somaek nights where each of you and your coworkers would gather in your cruelly tiny apartment with their own separate dishes for all to share and forget about the troubles of the midweek. As the year was winding down, it was these nights that would get you through the week. With the bodies of the five of you in your tiny living room cramped around your low-set table, you had almost forgotten that the heating in there barely worked.

With each of your coworkers entrance, they would bring in the smell of autumn with them, and the chill of the air outside. On each of their long coats, bits of leaves would cling to the edges of the fabric. Each Wednesday there would be a royal mess to clean up after, but it was Jeonghan who would often stay after to help you. The two of you would end up in your cruelly tiny kitchen, throwing soap bubbles at each other’s faces drunkenly with socks sliding all over the wooden floors. Jeonghan would write another note to stick on your refrigerator, then he would take you by the hands to twirl you around to some unbearably cheesy sounding OST.

Perhaps it was the way that your head would get fuzzy from the soju and beer, but you loved the way that he would twirl you; it was almost like a waking dream.

“Nobody worry! Nobody! Worry!” Soonyoung burst through your door, case of beer in hand. “I’m not late, I’m actually early! Don’t you know that it’s trendy to appear an hour into the party?” When Soonyoung spoke, he had a habit of speaking with his whole chest.

“Took you long enough,” Mingyu whined, popping in another strip of galbi.

“You don’t enjoy our presence, ‘Gyu?” Wonwoo’s mouth upturned into a teasing grin.

“N-no,” The biggest man babbled, “It’s just that...Wednesdays are somaek evenings.”

“--Then I am here to help you out my friend.” Soonyoung plopped himself right down on the floor with the poof of his blond hair popping from his beanie. “Ahhhh this all looks so delicious.”

“You better pay me back.” You griped while serving him a plate of the assortment.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love you, Y/n?”

“Nearly every time I do something for you? You still owe me from the last time we went to karaoke.

“--And for covering for your ass last week...some hangover that was, huh?” Jeonghan scooched over his leftover rice to you.

Soonyoung scoffed while twirling his bottle of soju in the air, the admiring the little tornado swirling inside. “-Was worth it though. We always have fun don’t we?” In his affection, he threw his arms around you and Wonwoo beside him.

“-Food’s gonna get cold.” Wonwoo poked his finger in the general direction.

With his full glass raised in the air after a minute of preparation, Soonyoung lead you all in a toast, cheeks already rosy. The second that your glasses collided, liquid came downpouring to the table, but none of you seemed to mind. Before you could bring your drink to your lips, you caught yourself having a moments pause, watching all of your friends before you. If you could have, you wished you could fold up little moments like these as well to put in your drawer to see when you would feel down.

Jeonghan caught your wistful sigh, sending you a wink. In many ways, you knew he must have known your thoughts.

Under the table, his hand brushed up to your crossed knee, letting his hand linger. He let his hand rest there for a moment, as if he was soaking up your essence in the moment. He had never done it before, but his thumb gently rubbed at your knee, and it felt like a waking dream.

☆彡

The night had ticked on, and you and grown more tired than you had expected by pass of the clock hand. As the night would normally progress, drinks would be had, then each of you would take turns updating the others on what you had been doing or working on. All of you would gather advice or support if needed. There had even been times when you would even provide a shoulder for one to cry on, although that didn’t happen most times.

Others, like today, the five of you would simply sit and enjoy each other’s presence with the window slightly cracked open to let the autumnal air cool your burning bodies. Jokes would be cracked every once and a while until yawns would escape your mouths. By then, another joke would be made about how you were all getting to old to be staying up that late.

Jeonghan played with your hair as you had leaned into him, swirling your final glass of soju in your wrist. While you were hot yourself, the heat from his body was still calming, and the way that his chest would rise and fall was a bit like a lullaby.

“I’m falling asleep, we should head out,” Mingyu clapped Wonwoo by the back.

“Another one for the books.” Soonyoung sighed, then rose up with a stretch of his arms, wrinkling up his white button up and loose tie.

“Sweet dreams everyone.” You shift off of your best friend, shuddering a little at the lack of contact, to close the door after them.

“I’m looking forward to next Wednesday!” Soonyoung beams with a little salute, then bows before shuffling away.

“What time is it?” You yawn out the words, rubbing your eyes.

“Too late. We still need to go in tomorrow, remember?”

Dirty dishes clink in your hands as you bring them to your sink. “We really should start doing this on Fridays.”

“I don’t wanna start cleaning just yet, can we stay here for a while?” Jeonghan spreads his arms out, beckoning you to fall back into him. You laugh a little at the motion.

“Why so touchy? We haven’t done this in so many years...I can’t remember the last time...”

You oblige him, nuzzling right up to his chest once more. He smells a bit of the somaek, but mostly of his usual scent: that cheap cologne that you had bought him about a year ago. You had mostly gotten it as a gag gift, but he had worn it every day since.

“Must have been in high school.” His words are long and breathy.

“How come we stopped?”

Jeonghan takes a minute to answer you, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Instead, he raises a hand to rub at your arm lightly, just as he had done with your knee.

“Dunno. We got older?”

“What does getting older have to do with it?”

You watch in the silence as his thumb continues to rub over the fabric of your long-sleeved button down.

“--Do you want to play a game?” Jeonghan says at last.

“A game? What do you mean?”

“For fun. I’m trying to find something to do so we don’t have to do the dishes.”

“Okay,” You perk up slightly, still not removing yourself from his encircled arms. “What kind of game?”

“Truth or dare?”

“Psh what are we, back in high school?”

“Seeing what we are doing right now, wouldn’t you say so?” The words escape Jeonghan’s mouth with a growing grin.

You ruffled to top of his head, messing up his perfectly primped hair. “...Fineeee. You going first or me?”

“I’ll go. Truth.” Jeonghan pulled you back into him, settling your back flush with his chest.

“Okay, truth: did you really mean it when you said that you liked Minji’s power suit? I know you thought it looked tacky.”

Jeonghan’s breathy laugh miffed up your hair. “I’ll say anything if it keeps me in the supervisor’s good graces.”

“HA. I knew it.”

“Which do you pick?”

“Mmmm-truth.”

“Not dare? You’re no fun.”

“I said truth!!!”

“Fine, fine.” His slender arms squeezed at your body to situate you better in between his legs. “When was the last time that you brought someone over to your place?”

“Yo-you mean like “brought someone” over?”

“You know what I mean.” In his voice you could nearly see his mischievous smile.

“I’ve told you about all of them so I don’t know why you’re asking. It’s been about a year.”

“A year? Really?”

“--Nope! You don’t get to ask any more questions. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Jeonghan said without a moment’s hesitation.

Your eyes wandered the room for his perfect punishment. “Ah! Take that soy sauce, the one with the wasabi bits in it...and drink it.”

Your friend sighed, but took the tiny cup in his fingers to down it all in one shot. He shivered a little and you could feel his face scrunch up, but he held his reactions back best he could.

“That was such a high school dare. You really haven’t changed.”

“I thought it was funny.”

“Truth or dare Y/n.”

“Truth.”

“Ughhh truth again?”

“ ‘Hannnn--”

“Just say dare! I promise that I’ll go easy on you.”

“Fine then. Dare.”

“I dare you...to take your shirt off.”

“What?!” Your head snapped back to send him your deathly glare. “Are you being serious right now?”

“What? It’s nothing that I haven’t seen? Are you forgetting that we’ve been friends for nearly our whole lives? That and college you were someone who would go to parties and take your shirt off. Remember that?”

“...yes.” You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Fine then.” In one motion, you pulled your shirt over your head, jumping a little once you felt Jeonghan’s hands help tear it off your arms. You hesitated to lay back, but his arms made a decision before you could, and pulled you back into his chest. Now, it was the skin of his fingers on your bare arms that you were painfully aware of.

“T-truth or dare?” You squeaked out.

“Truth.”

“No fair, you made me do dare!”

“I already did a dare. Truth.”

From the other side of your room, your refrigerator clacked with the sound of ice cubes falling into their tray. On the door, dozens of multi-colored post-it-notes had been suck there with clear tape.

“...Why is it that you’re always writing me those notes? “yjh was here?”“

“Hmm.” He breathed out. “I had a feeling that you might ask me that one.”

“...And?”

“--Because I like to. And...”

Your anticipation hung tangibly in the air. You didn’t quite know it, but you had been waiting for his answer for so many years, you had lost count.

“...And I like seeing them around you. -Reminds me that I’m a part of your life. Kind of like how we exist together. They’re little reminders for you as well...to know that I’m around for you.”

“Jeonghan...” You wouldn’t have expected it, but tears singed the corners of your eyes.

“Truth or dare?” He cooed into your ear.

“D-dare.” Your voice shook, realizations flooding you like rain.

“I dare you to take off your pants. Can you do that?” His voice had dropped, low and gravely.

You nodded your answer, and took to unbuttoning your pants, shimmying them off where you sat on the floor. As soon as your bare legs were exposed, he had found a new place to rest his hands; you never would have guessed for them to be so beautiful-looking there.

“I choose dare.” He breathed onto your bare neck.

“I-I dare you take off our shirt too.” Your face felt furiously warm as you uttered the words and he did exactly as he was told. The sensation of your skin on his skin then sent your head spinning with just how close you had been in that moment, closer than ever before.

Jeonghan’s hands explored your bare legs with a touch as soft as butterfly wings. His light touches sent an aching pain to your sex as it had never felt so needy and neglected.

“Truth or dare my love?”

In an attempt to hide your frustration, you could only form the word, “T-truth?”

“Hmm...truth...” Jeonghan began to kneed into your legs, digging his nails in every so slightly. “Have you ever kept secrets from me?”

“Secrets? Why-why would I, I don’t-mmph-have any secrets to keep from you.”

“I think that’s a lie Y/n.”

Indeed it was a lie. You had kept secrets from him. Two secrets to be exact; one of them being near the precipice for the whole universe to see.

“I’ve kept secrets from you, you know.”

“What?”

“Do you dare me to show you?”

Your anxious breath caught in your lungs, full of confusion but even more excitement. Jeonghan’s hands crept slowly up to your hips.

He repeated, “Do you?”

“Ye-yes. I dare you to show me.” Your eyes had closed feeling his hands draw even farther up your body.

Your best friend surveyed your whole chest with his hands, swirling around as much skin as he could touch. He was careful not to tickle you, but rather give every ounce of your being his careful attention. For a moment, his fingers grazed over your nipples, but went to cradle your neck in his hands. He turned it to the side to expose the beating vein there, and placed the slowest and most tender kiss upon it. From the feeling of his fleeting lips, you whimpered at the sensation.

“Dare.” You managed with a dry mouth. “I dare you to touch me...anywhere you want...please...”

Jeonghan chuckled slightly into your neck. “I just had my turn, but...I’m listening.”

Your entire body keened under his fingertips, writhing messily between his legs. This time, he was careful in touching you nearly everywhere: your chest, your nipples--pinching them slightly--and down your legs, to your inner thighs where he traced up to your underwear, now wetting a little with your arousal.

“Tell me the truth.” He bit into your skin. “Am I one of your secrets?”

Your answer was given to him in the form of you forcefully tearing from his grip to push his legs together so that you could straddle them. The way that his shoulder blades flexed under your firm grip was dizzying. Your eyes fell to his lips: your secret.

“I dare you to kiss me,” You breathed onto them.

“I thought that you’d never ask.”

Jeonghan was smiling as he pulled your lips into his, and he never quite seemed to stop. Every bit of your love for him spilled into his mouth where you found the comfort from him that you had craved for years. You had felt first kisses before, but nothing was quite like this one. With Jeonghan who you had known for so long, you were thrilled to get to know him in this new and different way, and you wanted to absorb every little bit of it: the way he would caress the sides of your face so gently, or the way that he would angle your neck to meet his lips. You would never have guessed to feel so complete with him like this, but it also made all the sense in the world. It was you that he wanted, and you that he wanted to stay next to through all those years. He had never let you go, and you had never let him either.

In between kisses, you found both of yourselves giggling hysterically.

“Are we really doing this right now? Are we...?” You bit a laugh into his lip.

“Yes. I think that we are.” He engulfed you in his grasp. “I’ve wanted to do this for years, Y/n.

Jeonghan scooped you up, moving both of your bodies to the couch where he clinked with his belt buckle to remove his pants. “You really do look beautiful. Everyday. I’m not just saying that.”

You practically clawed at him to lay his body on top of yours, then wrapped your legs around his waist to align him with your own. In your unadulterated intoxication of him, you hopelessly grinded up into him, seeking some kind of stimulation from the mashing of fabric together. After a little scoff, Jeonghan’s hand cascaded down your body to rub at your throbbing sex, marveling in the way that you had soaked though your underwear just a little.

“Wow. This is how you feel about me?”

“Do you want me to say sorry?”

“No--it’s just...I wish that I had known sooner.”

Your lust brought his lips back to yours as you kissed him over and over and over, trying to make up for all of the times that you wished you had done before. His touch on your sensitive skin sent you mewling onto his tongue.

“Can I make you mine now?”

As for your response, your widened legs told him exactly what he needed to know.

In one swift motion, he had tugged off his own briefs, letting free his deliciously hard cock, sparkling at the head with his pre-cum. Looking at him like this, all for you, was like a walking dream.

Jeonghan gathered spit from his tongue to glide over his dick, then teased your impatient entrance while he watched your face contort into the most beautiful shapes he thought he had ever seen. He entered you slowly, letting each of you take in the moment as if you could forget it the next. Once you were together, his brows twitched a little as his closed eyes focused only on you. He filled you up perfectly, as if you were made for him--which you had convinced yourself that you were. Jeonghan buried his face in your neck to suck into the skin, marking you as his.

Your orgasm built much quicker than you had intended, and soon you were begging him to make you cum--which he gladly did. Your heels dug into his back upon your release which gathered more heat between your two bodies. Jeonghan didn’t skip a beat as he chased his own orgasm, fucking you into your own overstimulation and leaving you to melt under him.

“Jeong-han.” You gasped out his name through your teeth as your body quaked from the snap of his hips.

“oh god,” He uttered, tangling his fingers deep into your hair, then smashing his lips back into yours. “you’re so good for me my love...so good...”

Jeonghan let out little grunts as he came and filled you deeply with the warmth from his cum. As he throbbed within you, you knew it really was him you were made for. He lingered inside your walls as your bodies shook together with the aroma of sex fogging the air. After a while, it didn’t take long for both of you to be laughing contentedly into each other’s mouths once more.

Your best friend reached for your hand to bind all of your fingers to his. "No more secrets.”

☆彡

“Do you want the sweatpants from the top shelf or the rack?” Jeonghan called to you through your cruelly tiny apartment. “Wait...i-is this...?”

Once he had returned, in his hand he held the aged strawberry milk carton with the little cartoon fruit on the side and the scrap piece of paper wrapped around it. In the other was your little box of notes.

yjh was here

“I can’t believe that you’ve kept it this long. Why--”

“--I’ll tell you why...it’s my second secret.”

Your best friend cocked his head. “...Second?”

“Ever since that day, I’ve known, Yoon Jeonghan. I love you.”

☆彡

if you’ve got to this point, hehe hello I’m Ro, I write for skz and svt, and I’d love to write some more svt! If you’d like, you can send me your asks

#bestfriendhannie I didn’t know I needed sooo bad #this one actually made me v v soft 🥺#binniesthighs 💌#asks #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles

251 notes · View notes

silhouetteofacedar · 4 years ago

Text

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 5: Dana's Work Friend

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Friday, April 3rd, 1998. Scully comes into the office in a flurry of coat and red hair. She doesn’t greet him, just drops her briefcase on the desk and sinks into her seat across from him.

“Mulder, I have a favor to ask of you, and you’re probably going to hate it, so just bear in mind that I have exhausted all my other options,” she says, somewhat breathless.

“You’re really selling it,” he deadpans. “What is it?” he asks, settling into his chair and leaning his elbows on the desk.

“You remember Mark,” she prompts, and he nods. Ugh. If only he could forget.

“Well, it turns out that Mark is extremely - almost agonizingly - social, despite having a demanding job and a young child to raise.”

“Sounds awful,” Mulder comments.

“Hence my current predicament. He’s invited me and my friends out for drinks tonight, so his friends can meet me and I can meet his and he can meet mine… “ she rambles before refocusing herself. “He’s not aware that I’ve lost contact with most of my friends. You’re kind of the only one left.”

Mulder had suspected as much, but confirmation of her increasing social isolation is like a punch in the throat. “Are you sure there’s no one else?” he asks softly, not wanting to rub salt into any wounds.

She shakes her head, lips pressed together. “Unless the Lone Gunmen count as my friends,” she replies. “Which in this case is somehow worse than having none at all,” she muses, some humor in her voice.

“Good point,” he chuckles. “Sure, count me in.”

“Thank you,” she says sincerely, and he melts all over again. He’d do anything for her. Even if it means meeting Mark. Ugh.

“It’s worth mentioning,” Mulder says after a moment, “If you don’t want to go, you can always just not go.”

“Shockingly, I have thought of that,” she says dryly, opening her briefcase and pulling out a folder. “But I think it would be good for me to meet people and hold conversations that aren’t related to criminal or paranormal activity. Might be good for you, too,” she adds, glancing up at him.

He pulls a stack of files out of his inbox on the desk. “I’ll stick to ‘ghosties and ghoulies and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night’,” he says.

“‘Good Lord, deliver us',” Scully replies, finishing the old prayer.

Mulder looks up at her and finds her smiling at him, and his whole body flushes with heat and adoration.

“Let’s elope,” he says, and she rolls her eyes fondly before burying her nose in her work.

I’m not kidding, he yells inside the prison of his own thick skull.

After work he and Scully drive straight to the bar together, a yuppie place in Foggy Bottom near George Washington University Hospital.

“Have you ever been through their ER?” Scully asks, scanning the street for parking. “I imagine you’ve been through enough hospitals to warrant a map on the wall with little pins stuck in it.”

“I can’t possibly remember them all at this point,” he says absently, tugging at his seatbelt uncomfortably. Why is he nervous? He’s just here to show Scully’s man friend that she’s not entirely a basement-dwelling hermit.

And Mulder’s the best she could do? God, maybe she really does need to get out more.

She parks, and he feeds the meter while she touches up her lipstick in the rearview mirror. She looks sweet and and rosy, flushed with nerves and traffic, and he could so easily scoop her up and kiss her-

“Alright,” she says, climbing out of the car and closing the driver’s side door a little harder than necessary. She smooths her hair down. “I’m ready for battle.”

“I’m prepared to fall on my sword,” he assures her, guiding her onto the sidewalk with a hand on her lower back before realizing he probably shouldn’t touch her so familiarly when her… friend might see.

“It’ll be fine,” she says over her shoulder as she grasps the bar door’s handle. “Just behave,” she hisses, and they enter.

The onslaught is immediate.

“Dana!” a voice calls out through the bustling bar, and Mulder sees a man waving them over. He’s got neatly styled dishwater blond hair, broad shoulders, and dimples at the corners of his mouth as he smiles at them. Not bad, Mulder thinks, unsure of how to feel about this new information.

He barely has time to process it before they’re enveloped in a tight swarm of strangers. The blond man, presumably Mark, loops an arm around Scully’s shoulders and gives her a side-hug.

“So glad you could make it, Dana,” he says, and proceeds to go around the circle of people and rattle off names Mulder has no reason to remember. Instead, he watches Scully, the way she greets each person as they’re introduced. She’s cool and calm, smiling politely, shaking hands and saying ‘nice to meet you’ to each of the five - no, six - people in the group.

“I’ll grab you two some drinks,” Mark says, glancing at Mulder. “What’s your poison?”

“Shiner,” Mulder says.

“Same for me,” Scully says. “I’m going to freshen up-”

“Sure,” Mark says, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “Two Shiner Bocks coming up.”

That’s how Mulder and this exuberant, Golden Retriever of a man end up sitting at the bar together, nursing sweaty beers and waiting for Scully to return from the bathroom.

“So you’re a work friend of Dana’s?” Mark asks over the noise of the bar.

Mulder was about to set his drink down, but he reconsiders and takes another swig. “In a manner of speaking,” he replies.

Dr. Mark Whatever-the-fuck seems confused. “I don’t follow,” he says.

“I’m her partner,” Mulder says flatly. Since 1993. I’ve seen her naked, cradled her injured body my arms, saved her goddamn life. Have you?

“Oh!” Mark says, clearly making mental connections. “Oh. Sorry, I just- it’s nice to meet you… Fox?”

“Just Mulder’s fine,” he corrects him.

Mark laughs. “Sorry for the confusion on my end; I think Dana only said your name once and I went and assumed Fox Mulder was a woman. And you know what they say about assuming,” he adds with a nudge.

Once. Only once? Maybe that shouldn’t surprise him, but it does. Whenever he meets someone new in Scully’s life they always throw out the usual ‘I’ve heard a lot about you’ line, so he knows she talks about him to others. But not to this guy. Why not to this guy?

Mercifully, Scully returns from the restroom. Mark hands her her beer. “Thanks,” she says softly, giving him a small smile with her lips closed tightly, which strikes Mulder as odd. He knows she’s somewhat self-conscious about smiling with her teeth, but something he sees in her face doesn’t feel quite right.

Of course it doesn’t feel right to you, he thinks. She’s smiling at some other guy.

They’re swept along in a current of conversation, scrambled introductions, and drink orders. He’s introduced to a handful of people he’ll selectively erase from his eidetic memory, standing across from Scully in their little circle instead of by her side. He doesn’t like it. Another man has his hand on her back, although respectfully keeping it between her shoulder blades. Any lower and Mulder would have to excuse himself to have a panic attack in the alley behind the bar. Or throw up.

He’s glad Mark’s friends aren’t particularly interested in making conversation with him; he’s tired and ready to go home. Luckily, the Doctor himself calls the night early, at half-past eight.

“I promised the little one I’d be home to tuck her in,” he explains, and Mulder’s stomach turns from the purity and sweetness of it. “She gets to stay up a little later on Fridays.” He gives Scully another half of a hug and says his goodbyes.

The group disperses pretty quickly after Mark leaves, and Mulder and Scully are left alone outside the bar.

“So, you met Mark,” Scully says simply.

“I did, yeah.” He can sense that she wants him to say something more. “He seems... nice,” Mulder adds.

Scully nods. “Yeah, he’s nice.”

Mulder’s beginning to think ‘nice’ is the only word anyone’s capable of using to describe this guy.

“I’ll bet Bill’s gonna love him,” he comments, hoping he doesn’t sound as bitter as he feels.

Scully shakes her head, smiling. “I knew there had to be a flaw in him somewhere,” she jokes.

Mulder surprises himself with a huffed laugh. This moment with her is strangely precious, despite the circumstances. He doesn’t know how many moments like this he has left, if he’s being honest.

“I’m happy for you,” he says tenderly, and maybe if he says it enough it’ll be true. She deserves this, he reminds himself. It’s become almost a mantra, a lead weight that keeps him from drifting away.

“Are you?” she asks, catching him off guard. “I caught you staring holes into him more than once.”

“I wasn’t,” Mulder says defensively. “This is just my face.”

She gives him a look that clearly says ‘I call bullshit’, and he folds. “He didn’t know who I was,” he says, and it sounds monumentally stupid out loud. “He though Fox Mulder was a woman.”

“I-I don’t know why he would have thought that,” Scully says, pensive. “I never implied-”

“Fox is an unusual name,” Mulder interrupts. “It’s an honest mistake if you just hear it without any context.”

Scully looks down at her feet. “I’m sorry about that,” she says softly. “About all of this. I owe you one.”

Mulder reaches out and squeezes her shoulder, and it seems to have a grounding effect on both of them. “I’ll put it on your tab,” he says.

“Do you want me to drive you back to work?” she asks. They’d left his car in the garage at the Hoover building.

Mulder shakes his head. “You’re almost home,” he says. “I’ll get a cab.”

He ends up walking instead.

The night air cleanses his senses as he makes the half-hour trek back to the Bureau. Their time in the bar had felt sluggish and hazy, despite the fact that he only had a beer and a half. He spend the entire evening focused on Scully, the only sharp image amidst the blur of patrons.

Mark hadn’t kissed Scully goodbye, and Mulder’s relief at not having to witness it was overshadowed by a morbid curiosity. She and Mark had been dating for three weeks; he’s not sure how often they’ve actually gone out, due to the doctor’s shift schedule, but he assumes they’ve seen each other a few times at mass in addition to whatever outings they’ve gone on in the evenings. That was ample time to get to know each other physically on some level, wasn’t it? A peck on the cheek at least.

Mulder’s biased; he’s touch-starved and in love with her. He spends most of his nights on his couch in the dark, touching himself and thinking about Scully. Kissing her, taking her clothes off, tasting her; his mental catalogue of scenarios is robust and well-used. If given half the chance to love her…

Maybe that’s it, he thinks somberly, stepping over sidewalk cracks. Maybe chances are taken, not given.

That’s not how he wants to love her. He wants her to choose him all on her own, and yet he never let her know he was a choice. And now there’s Mark.

But Mark doesn’t kiss her.

#my fic #msr #txf fic #xfiles #fox mulder closet romantic #FMCR #in which mark and Mulder meet #oof #the pain

76 notes · View notes

jostepherjoestar · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request La Squadra finally seeing the face of their new member who always wears a mask. Like they never take it off but they eventually do for each member after they get comfortable with them as a sign of respect.

Masked new La Squadra member finally showing their face to the boys Scenarios

sfw // gn reader

Oh the absolute delicateness of this has me swooning. I can only imagine how much courage our reader must have to finally show their face to their beloved teammates. These turned out as scenario’s heh sorry. Thanks for requesting!!

Risotto

“Signore can I come in?” you knocked carefully on the thick wooden door separating your stoic capo’s office from your nervous form. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t call your boss by his first name, it felt wrong to talk so casually towards him. Like you hadn’t yet earned that privilege.

“Come in.” His voice muffled by the distance but it still sounded so wonderfully gruff. A deep breath out, the built up courage bringing you inside his office. The dark eyed man was nose deep in papers, his laptop that looked like it was hanging on by wires and good luck whirring on the side of the large oak desk, a picture of a target displayed on the pixelated screen. “Mhh?” his hum having enough intonation to tell you he wanted to know why you came to visit him in the middle of the night. “Is it possible to take a moment? Only if you have the time of course, signore.” you carefully asked not wanting to interrupt his workflow. “Not really. But if you help me sort these out we can discuss in the meantime.” He hadn’t looked up from his papers yet, sorting them after quickly scratching them with his pen. You took him up on the invitation, quietly sitting down in the chair that had been resting in front of his desk, usually reserved for personal meetings. Perhaps this was one. He slid you a folder across the table asking you to sort them by date. Before you accepted the work you carefully took of your mask laying it on the table in front of you, just in your capo’s field of view. He noticed the mask that usually covered your face staring back at him from the table, he was a little weary from working so long that it hadn’t sunk in yet what it meant. After a second that felt like it took ages he finally looked up at you realising your reveal. His eyes didn’t linger but while your eyes met his darker ones, you could see a small dimple appear on his cheek. Quietly he returned to his papers and so did you, feeling relieved that you’d finally done it, it was the first time you’ve seen him smile.

Formaggio

The red sauce swirled with flecks of green herbs as you stirred it mindlessly getting lost in the movement. The smell of tomatoes, garlic and basil filled the entire house and would continue to for a few more days. Whenever you made a big batch of your delicious but simple sauce it stayed on the stove for at least a full night on the smallest amount of heat the stove could muster. Every once in a while you’d go and stir, awakening the aromas again. The sun was starting to set and you were getting ready to let your sauce gently rest for the evening. Alone in the house except for one other: your good friend Formaggio. You hadn’t bothered with putting on your mask, feeling relaxed and ready just in case Formaggio would walk in and see you. He’d grown quite close to you, both enjoying each others company whenever in need for some carefree fun. You could hear him laugh at the tv in the other room where he’d been sitting for quite some time. Only having greeted him while on your way to the small kitchen you all shared at your headquarters. “Mhh your sauce smells soooo good! Can I reserve a couple jars when it’s done? I get special treatment cause we’re friends right?” Formaggio said as he stepped into the kitchen, head still halfway turned to the tv left behind him. His request pulling you out of the stupor of stirring, surprised he hasn’t noticed your face yet. When he turned he had to do a double take. Was that really you? Did a stranger slip into the house just to stir your sauce? “Is that your face?” his quizzical look making you laugh, the way he phrased his shock even more. “What? Is it that bad?” you retorted in amusement while holding up the wooden spoon. “No, no. It’s just... wow. I didn’t really expect this. You look nice, even better than I imagined.” It looked like he was trying his best not to stumble over his words, your witty friend normally being more easygoing in his reactions. “Oh good. However, complementing me does not earn you extra sauce.” you playfully winked at him before returning to stirring.

Illuso

The early morning sun shone brightly through your windows bringing in the new dawn. It was rare for you to be up at the same time as the sun rose, maybe it was more more common for you to finally take your rest as you saw it appear. Sluggishly dragging your slippers across the floor you entered the bathroom to splash some fresh water onto your face so it would help you stay awake. Your current mission requiring you to take an early flight to your target’s destination. As your tired eyes stared back at you, droplets still falling down from your now refreshed face, a sudden movement caused you to tense up. You swear you saw a dark figure move across the mirror faster than you could process. A panic grew in your chest as you realised your mask was still resting on your nightstand. Shit. “Illuso?” you asked quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear you. You wouldn’t put it past him to sneak up on you like this but it would be a strange event since you’d become quite close to the well kept man. You’d go as far to call him a friend. But no one replied. The shadow didn’t return no matter how long you stared. Feeling your suspicion fall you decided to carry on with your morning, maybe you were just tired. But upon entering your room again you were surprised to see your aforementioned friend lounging casually on your comforter. “Morning. Just wanted to wish you a safe trip.” he smiled, it looked so sly sitting on his turned lips. “Illuso don’t scare me like that. It was you in the mirror wasn’t it?” you scolded him, turning your face away from him. But it had been too late, he already saw your beautiful face and kept his strong gaze on you. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to. I just use that mirror to skip along very often.” you still didn’t believe his defence, slowly growing angry at his trespassing. Before you knew it you felt his figure behind you, a muscled arm reaching around. As you looked down you saw him holding out the familiar mask in his hand. You quickly took it from him and fastened it. “I really am sorry darling, but so glad I at least got a glimpse of the beauty you’re hiding.” he smirked. Before you could smack him, he was off again into his mirrorworld avoiding any other further confrontation.

Prosciutto

“You asked for me?” his warm voice entered before he did, slowly pushing open the creaky door to your room as he knocked. As he came to face you Prosciutto stopped in his tracks, his hand still on the door handle gripping it tightly . “I’m so sorry, I should have stayed outside!” his apology was flustered, face snapped to the side so he wasn’t looking at you. To his surprise you’d been waiting for him, sitting nervously on your desk chair facing the entrance, the only thing that had been different was the fact you’d taken off your mask. Your bright eyes shone at him making Prosciutto wish he could linger longer in the split second he could take in your features. “No! No... it’s ok. This is why I asked you to come. Please, it’s- you can look.” you hurriedly replied waving your hands while you spoke. The way he responded filled you with relief though, the gentlemanly way he tried to respect your privacy wasn’t something you’ll soon forget. He sighed while swallowing deeply, you could clearly see his throat bob with apprehensiveness. The bun’s on his head turned with him while he finally met your eyes again, this time properly. He stood there for a moment, quietly taking in your lovely face. Admiring the way your nose bent, the way the low orange hue of your desk light seemed to make your eyes sparkle. It was silent for a moment, you felt your hands clam up as you gripped your fingers in your palms. “I’m sorry I surprised you Prosciutto.” your voice was soft, hinting at your embarrassment. You don’t really take off your mask for just anyone, it was the way Prosciutto had treated you since you joined that made you feel so welcome and wanted. He always did his best to include you, he never even questioned your mask. “It’s alright. I- You look lovely, uhm. Thank you?” never had you seen him this flustered. It wasn’t like your blonde colleague at all. His hand still hadn’t let go of the door handle, knuckles now white from his grip. You chuckled as his response, how weird of him to thank you. But you felt what he meant, he appreciated that you trusted him.

Pesci

It was a sunny afternoon, the soft rays of winter sunshine lighting up your room with a soft orange hue. The heater had been turned on causing a nice and cozy atmosphere in your little personal bubble. Even though it was sunny, the temperatures had dropped drastically and since you were so used to the natural warmth of Napoli you were wrapped in a warm sweater to further keep in as much heat as possible. You just got done sorting some files to help your capo get some time off from work just like the rest of his team. It was a peaceful day, most of your companions were out and about, going on walks or shopping or out enjoying a drink. Among the ones that stayed behind was the tall, green tufted, shy and nervous teammate you’d started to become closer with. Finally able to get past his own hurdles, he felt comfortable enough around you. Opting to sit closer while watching tv together instead of nervously clamming up and not moving for 20 minutes. It felt like the right time to reveal some more of yourself, entrusting Pesci with the well kept secret that was your face. You hurried downstairs, excited butterflies making your stomach bubble, asking Pesci to meet you in your room in 5 minutes. He seemed a bit surprised and anxious since you hadn’t told him why, a million thoughts going through his head as to why you wanted him there. Did he mess up something? Were you mad at him? Did you not want to be friends anymore? Oh god please make these 5 minutes shorter. The excitement hadn’t left your body, perking up as you heard Pesci’s steps in the hallway before he knocked on your door. You quickly replied for him to come in and sit down on your bed. Seeing how enthusiastic you were made him calm down a bit, still overtly curious as to what it is you wanted to say. “Close your eyes for me please!” You said as you bounced a little on your soft mattress. He cautiously did as you asked and closed his eyes shut and held them that way. Quickly taking off your mask and putting it down on the bed before you, a last breath out and you were ready. “Open please!” He squinted one eye open, trying to get a lay of the view before him, worried you were pranking him. But to his own surprise the view was anything but scary. His face softened and a soft blush made its way over his cheeks as a goofy smile became apparent. “You look so lovely.” It seemed that it was a comment he actually wanted to keep to himself because he swiftly brought his hand to his mouth to cover it. Like he was pushing the words back in, but it was too late. You giggled at his response, still reeling from the excitement. “It’s a secret though, no pictures.” you winked at him to tell him his response was no issue.

Melone

Tired eyes stare at the blue hued screen before him. Another all nighter, the moment he opened new tabs he kept going deeper and deeper, any interesting term that caught his attention got added to the already heaping to-read list. Finally admitting that he needs to hydrate and maybe even eat a snack, Melone sighs and stretches his arms and legs. Cracking and popping heard from his sore joints from sitting in the hunched over position way too long. His purple, vanilla scented blanket still resting on his head and shoulders as he quietly sneaks downstairs towards the kitchen for the quick midnight raid. His fluffy socks muffling his steps as he walks into the dining area that connects to the small kitchen. Only the soft sheen of street lights illuminated the room as he scuffled by the seats. But it doesn’t feel like he’s alone, his senses tingle and his arm hair stands up. Smart enough not the densely ask “Who’s there?” he opts to engage his sneaking abilities. As slow and quiet as possible he scoots over to the light switch ready to fight whoever made their way into the house. The lights spring on, the brightness of the bulbs hurting his tired eyes that desperately needed a rest. After rubbing them and adjusting his vision, he sees a familiar form resting their head on their arms slumped over the kitchen table. Creeping closer to inspect you he sees your body move slightly with the shallow breaths. It seemed you had fallen asleep while reading and someone just turned off the kitchen lights, going along with their night not bothering to wake you up. The thought made Melone huff out a laugh. He did also notice the mask you usually wore resting next to the book, your delicate hand resting next to it, like the second you took it off drowsiness got the better of you. “Hey...Wake up, sleepyhead. Unless you want Prosciutto eating his breakfast and using your head as a table you should probably go to bed.” he whispered in your ear. You weren’t that far gone into sleep so his whispers jolted you up, confusedly staring down in front of you as you felt Melone’s figure close next to you. When you starting lifting your head further up to straighten yourself you felt a stern hand push down your head. “Shhh careful. You’re not wearing your mask!” he hushed into your ear with a mischievous tone. Getting annoyed by his antics you opted to just leave it. Slapping his hand off of your head, standing up and leaving your belongings on the table. Before you left the kitchen for your room you stopped to give Melone a grumpy glare. “Why’re you looking all angry at me? I warned you.” he huffs in amusement as he shoots you a wink and a kiss. You’ll deal with him in the morning.

Ghiaccio

The heavy beats and synths moved through your ears, pounding into your chest as the wind blew harshly against you. It was nighttime and barely any cars other than the one you were in were visible on the road. The cool, salty breeze filling your lungs as you breathed in heavily. You still felt uneasy, gripping your hands into fists, wanting to release a scream so loud it would wake up all of southern Italy. Today was just not your day. Shit upon shit kept piling up and you felt like you were about to explode when Ghiaccio spotted how upset you were and offered to take you on a drive. “Anything will do at this point. Let’s go.” Before he had enough time to grab his keys you were already out the door and had jumped into the passenger seat of his expensive red sports car. You’d been cruising on long winding roads, the ocean view beside you causing at least some relief. Ghiaccio had been awfully silent the whole ride, letting his music fill the air instead. The engine stopped atop a mountain road, an empty parking place near the summit of the hill, a few benches strewn about so visitors could relax. But it was just you two, staring out at the ocean waves that seemed to move in a much more calming way than you felt. “Do you want to talk about it?” Ghiaccio said cautiously as he turned down the volume of the radio so you could talk in peace. “It’s just so... ngh. Just- fuck!” you gripped at your hair in frustration, there were no words that wanted to come out, still too riled up. “Ah, it’s one of those days.” He said while looking at you over his red frames. Like he read your thoughts he suggested you let it all out in one scream. “It helps me sometimes. Don’t worry, no one’s ever come up here to check if I was being murdered. They don’t care, just scream.” Without any warning you flipped off your mask, it landing in Ghiaccio’s lap as he just stared at you in shock. The pure guttural scream you let out felt like it had been brewing for a long time. A wild animal finally let out of its cage. He was impressed by you as you sat back down letting go of the windshield that was being gripped so tightly when you stood up to yell. A heavy sigh leaving your lips as he hands you back your mask. “You’re kind of scary when you’re mad, you know that?” he chuckled under his breath. “I like that about you.” he continued as he saw a small smile grow back on your lips he was so gingerly admiring.

#cozy request #jjba imagines #jjba scenarios #jjba x reader #la squadra #risotto x reader #formaggio x reader #illuso x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #melone x reader #ghiaccio x reader

273 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Sweethearts

Troy Bolton x Reader

Words: 4327

Summary: Following the efforts of a smaller, eviler version of Sharpay, the reader doubts her abilities and her relationship. Troy must restore her faith in herself in time for the perfect Valentine’s day dance.

Notes: Can I Have This Dance is literally my favorite scene from the whole series so I had to use it for this. Highly recommend listening to it before reading to get the feel. Let me know what you think! I’m so sorry it's so long, but I really loved getting into the romance. I’m pretty proud of this one, so just a little extra love would be very appreciated. (There’s also a 17 Again reference in here, if you catch it) Also, I couldn’t decide which gif I liked more, so I had to use both!

You couldn’t help the slight squeak of fear in your voice as the group of girls walked towards you.

“Hi Sharpay.” You greeted anxiously. She flipped her impossibly shiny blonde hair over her shoulder. She really was terrifying when she wanted to be.

“I heard that you might be signing up to perform in the Sweetheart’s Showcase.” She raised an accusing brow.

“Oh, um, yeah.” You stammered. “I was thinking about doing a duet with-”

“Blah blah blah, I know that. What are you wearing?” Her glare intensified, as did your confusion.”

“I-I don’t-” “Just make sure it isn’t pink, okay?” Sharpay ordered and her little pack nodded in agreement. “Pink is my color.”

“O-okay.” Was all you managed to say. She and her posse strutted off, but Madison gave you a lingering stare. You gulped. Sharpay may be the leader, but Madison was the shark of the group. Once she smelled blood, she would not be stopped. And ever since you’d started dating the basketball captain…

“Guess who?” A pair of hands covered your eyes. Maybe it was from his time spent on the roof, but Troy always smelled like fresh summer air.

“Hmmm… Mrs. Darbus?” You giggled. Troy’s arms wrapped around your middle and lifted you off the ground, making you laugh more. He swung you around before setting you back and spinning you so you were facing him.

“Ha ha.” He snarked, eyes sparkling in a particularly suspicious way. “What did ‘Her Majesty’ want?” You shrugged.

“She told me I couldn’t wear pink for the show case because it’s ‘her color’.” You laughed. “I wouldn’t dare try to outshine the Princess of Pink.”

“Yeah… about the showcase…” Troy looked at the floor. You felt your heart drop a little.

“You want to back out, don’t you?” You sighed sadly. “I mean, I get it. Performing in front of everybody freaks me out too-”

“Woah woah woah.” Troy laughed, that sparkle shining brighter. “I was just hoping that you would wear this.” He dangled a chain in front of you. The necklace was a stunning heart-shaped charm made with little red gems.

“Troy.” You gasped, a smile stretching from ear to ear. “It’s beautiful.”

“I figured you’d be stressed out over the showcase and the paper so I thought you’d like a little early Valentine.” He shrugged and you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek before turning around so he could put it on you. His fingers grazed your skin as he draped the chain around your neck.

“I wish I had something for you.” You whined, draping your arms around his neck as his arms fell to your waist.

“Just promise me a Valentine’s Day kiss and that is all I need.” He grinned and pulled you closer for a kiss.

It was quite a shock to the status quo when you and Troy started dating. The shy editor of the school newspaper and the star player of the basketball team made an interesting pair. But when Mrs. Darbus paired the two of you together to paint set in detention, something just… happened. You opened up around Troy more than you could with anyone. You helped him realize that there was more to him than basketball when you got him to sing with you at your vocal recital last year. Somehow the two of you just worked.

“I hate to interrupt,” Taylor scoffed. “But the yearbook won’t edit itself.” You gave your best friend a look and Taylor smirked.

“Sorry Troy.” Gabriella laughed, grabbing your hand and dragging you down the hall. “We’ll see you at lunch!” The three of you rushed down the hall and Troy went to go find Chad.

“Ugh, he is so dreamy.” Libby, one of Sharpay’s sophomore groupies, sighed. Madison made a sound of disgust.

“And yet somehow he got stuck with that.” She watched you vanish into the journalism classroom and closed her locker. “Shouldn’t the Crowned Prince of East High be with someone a little more, I don’t know, worthy of his attention?”

“Who, like Sharpay?” Libby asked, applying another coat of lip gloss. Madison smirked.

“Yeah.” She turned her head to the jersey-clad boy retreating down the hall. “Like Sharpay.”

“So can I have this dance?”

“Can I have this dance?”

Your eyes were locked together as the room erupted with applause. You were in Troy’s arms before you had the chance to move.

“You guys, that was amazing!” Gabriella squealed with excitement.

“I couldn’t imagine anyone better to sing it.” Kelsi smiled, tucking the music into her folder. Even Taylor was impressed.

“I still think you two should give it a shot.” Troy nodded towards Taylor and Chad. You laughed into his shoulder as excuses tumbled out of their mouths.

“Let’s go, I think my mom is making some nachos.” You laced your fingers through his and told everyone you’d see them tomorrow. After practice rehearsals were exhausting for Troy, but he knew how happy it made you. Besides singing with you was the perfect way to relax after a long day of practice of running and shooting hoops. Plus, your mom made killer nachos.

His truck sputtered to a start and he winced. You giggled and earned a playful glare. At least it started this time. Sometimes, the two of you were stranded in the school parking lot until Troy could get his truck to start. You never minded. With minimal bumps and jolts, Troy was able to get to your house.

“I think the song is really coming together.” You said as the two of you made your way to the front door. “Ryan said he’d love to choreograph something for us.”

“How sweet.” Your door opened and Madison gave you a seemingly innocent smile. You stopped so suddenly Troy almost walked right into you.

“Maddie.” You tried to seem pleasantly surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t your mom tell you?” She laughed and pulled you inside- rather forcefully you might add. “My mom and her are in the same book club! She invited us to join you guys for dinner.” She looked over your shoulder and a little menacing glint appeared in her eyes. “Oh, hi Troy.”

“Hey.” He greeted uncomfortably, following you inside.

“I hope you don’t mind the extra company tonight.” Your mother beamed. “Julie was saying how excited Madison has been to work with you two for the musical and I thought it’d be fun for you kids to get to know each other.”

“That sounds great, Mr.s Y/L/N.” Troy put on that charming smile of his and pulled your chair out for you. Madison stood for a moment, as if she was expecting him to do the same for her. Being a gentleman, he moved her chair back before taking a seat.

“So you guys were talking about your number for the Sweetheart’s Showcase?” Maddie asked, eyeing Troy in a less than subtle way. He glanced at you with the same slightly scared look he had when he had to sing with Sharpay at the resort.

“Uh, yeah. Ryan said he had some choreography in mind.” Even after over a year of dating, sometimes the way he looked at you still gave you butterflies. “I mean, I think just singing would be fine-”

“You guys have to dance.” Maddie blurted. She flipped her hair over her shoulder- just like Sharpay, but like, pettier. “What I mean is, it would be so romantic, don’t you think?”

“I agree.” Your mom said excitedly. You shot a look.

“I’m sure what Ryan has planned will be great.” You concluded, hoping to drop the subject. You didn’t really want to discuss your super romantic duet in front of Madison.

Dinner passed painfully. The only thing keeping you from screaming out in frustration was Troy’s silly antics. From funny faces to pretending his chips were fighter planes, he distracted you from Madison’s subtly back-handed comments. The adults mistook them for compliments, but you knew exactly what she meant.

“Wow, I am totally beat.” Maddie exclaimed just as the parents started to go out to the porch, like adults do.

“Oh, I guess we’ll call it a night.” Her mom frowned.

“You stay and have fun, mom.” She smiled sweetly. “Troy can give me a ride. Right, Troy?”

“Um,”

“Great!” She practically skipped to the front door.

“You really are too good to be true, Mr. Bolton.” Her mother gushed before stepping out onto the back porch with your parents.

“I’ll walk you out.” You said, not really sure if you were irritated, confused, or a little impressed.

“You’re coming to the game tomorrow night, right?” Troy asked as you made your way down the front steps. Madison was already in the front seat, checking her reflection in the mirror. You shrugged.

“Actually I was thinking about catching a movie.” His shoulders sagged with disappointment. You shook your head. “Of course I’ll be there!” You exclaimed with a laugh. Troy put his hands on your cheeks and leaned in for a goodnight kiss.

“Oh Troy!” Madison called from the truck and the two of you pulled a part. “I should be getting home. I’m totally-” She yawned dramatically, “exhausted.” Troy sighed, settling for a light kiss on your cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” He reluctantly ran to his truck and you went back inside. Before the door closed, you couldn’t help but smirk as you listened to the sputtering sound of his truck refusing to start.

The sound of the crowd was a driving force on it’s own. Troy raced across the court, keeping his eyes locked on his teammate. Chad passed him the ball and he made the shot, that satisfying swish of the net drowned out by the cheers. After a tiring week of practice and rehearsals, his body was pumping with adrenaline.

“Go Troy!” He picked your voice out over the chorus of cheers. He found you at the edge of the bleachers towards the top and flashed you a smile before taking off again. Gabriella helped you hold up your #14 sign and Kelsi came back from concessions with the popcorn. You and Kelsi weren’t usually ones for sports, but ever since you’d started coming to games you’ve all had a blast. The buzzer sounded.

“That ends the third quarter here at Wildcat Stadium,” The announcer’s voice boomed. “Hornets 40, Wildcats 58.”

The fans hollered and you caught Troy’s eye again, giving him a grin that lit up the gym. He pressed his lips to his fingers and pretended to toss the air-kiss like a basketball. You pretended to catch it, accidentally stepping in the strap of the purse behind you.

There was a wave of gasps from the crowd and both teams stopped to see what the commotion was. Troy looked up to see a horrified Gabriella and an empty space where you had been standing.

“Y/N!” He yelled, running across the court to where a group of people had gathered, including the school nurse.

“Give her some space! Back up!”

“Let me through! That’s my girlfriend!” Troy pushed his way to the font. You were on the floor, but you were sitting up, trying to catch your breath.

“Is she okay?” Gabriella yelled down at him. Behind her, Maddison tossed her purse over her shoulder and vanished into the crowd.

“I think I'm okay,” You groaned. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.” You tried to stand, but cried out when a sharp pain shot up your let.”

“Take it easy,” Troy soothed, kneeling at your side.

“Where does it hurt?” The nurse asked.

“My ankle.” You moved your leg so she could examine it.

“Looks like it might be sprained.” She sighed. “Let’s get you to my office and take a closer look, okay?”

Troy put your arm over his shoulder and helped you stand. The nurse took your other arm and gave Troy a reassuring smile.

“I can take it from here. You go win this game, Mr. Bolton.”

“But-”

“I’ll be fine, Troy.” You kissed his cheek. “Go get em Wildcat.” The nurse helped you limp out of the gym and Gabriella and Kelso followed close behind.

Sharpay watched the whole scene from the very top of the stands, eyes narrowed with suspicion. She had seen Maddison pull her bag away just when Y/N fell and it definitely was not a coincidence. The little pirana was playing a dangerous game and Sharpay was not about to let her win.

The show case was just a night away and your ankle still ached whenever you stepped on it, even after a week. You tried not to let it show when Ryan was teaching you the steps, but they hardly let you practice at all. Taylor was furious you were still going through with it. Mrs. Darbus was at least more than willing to let you rehearse during homeroom.

“And, one two three, one two three,” Ryan tried not to sound irritated when Troy took another wrong step.

“Sorry.” He grimaced. Ryan just took a deep breath.

“Just start from ‘wherever we go next’.” He instructed and you tried to remember the steps. “And one two three and lift-” Troy lifted you up and spun the way Ryan showed him. When he set you back down, you stepped wrong.

“Ow!” You cried, stumbling backwards into the piano.

“That’s it. You can’t do this anymore.” Taylor said sternly. “You’re going to hurt yourself even more and then you won’t be able to dance at all.”

“I can do this. It already feels better.” You insisted and she scowled. Troy took your hands in his, the sweetness in those perfect blue eyes just making you feel even more guilty.

“We can figure something else out.” He felt awful for even pushing you this far. Tomorrow was Valentine’s day and you’d barely had a quiet moment, let alone long enough to destress. “How about we just call it a day? We can go to a movie tonight and just hang out. Just you and me.” You shook your head.

“I can get this. I just need a second.” You felt ridiculous storming out with crutches, but it was what you had. Troy moved to follow, but Gabriella shook her head.

“Just give her a minute.”

You didn’t notice the troop of girls following you to your locker and you were too frustrated to care. You could get this right. Troy had worked too hard with after practice rehearsals and countless hours going over the music with you for you to mess all of it up now. Sometimes you couldn’t help but think he was too good for you.

You opened your locker and watched dozens of paper Valentine’s float to the floor. At first, you thought this was a sweet gesture from your boyfriend. Then you actually read them. Talentless Freak. Get off the stage. East High’s Resident Loser.

“Looks like Y/N has an admirer.” Madison sneered and her group of underclassmen terrors erupted with cackles, drawing more people out of Darbus’ room. You set your crutches to the side and picked up one note in particular. Troy’s Tragic Charity Case.

Your heart dropped and the laughing just got louder. You couldn’t even run. You had to stand there and listen, looking at the cruel smirk on Madison’s face as the words echoed in your head over and over again. Charity Case.

“Y/N- oh my god,” Gabriella exclaimed, looking at the mess of fake Valentines. “Let’s get out of here. Taylor.”

“I’ll drive you home.” Taylor picked up your crutches and the two practically guarded you as you made your way down the hall.

By the time Troy got out into the hallway, most of the girls were gone, leaving only the notes scattered across the floor. He didn’t find you until you were already at Taylor’s car.

“Wait!” He yelled before you closed the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going home.” You sighed, brushing away a fallen tear. “Everyone is right. I can’t do this. Even if my ankle was fine, I couldn’t pull off something like this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m sure you can find a better partner, Troy. There are girls that would kill to perform with you.” Or sprain a few ankles.

“Kelsi wrote that song for us.” If he kept looking at you like that, you’d break completely.

“I’m sorry Troy.” You shut the door and Taylor drove off. Gabriella put a comforting hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t bear to look back.

“It appears that I’ve lost three students.” Mrs. Darbus sighed, waiting for him back at the doors. “Care to explain?” Troy ran his fingers through his hair.

“She’s not going to perform and I can’t do it without her.” He couldn’t imagine singing something so personal, so full of emotion, with anyone but the girl that he loved. Mr.s Darbus just gave him a knowing smile.

“I suggest talking to her, Mr. Bolton. Show her the truth.” He opened his mouth, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand. “You’ll know what to do.” Her expression changed. “Now, I'm afraid that there’s quite a mess in the hallway I must take care of. As well as a few girls to track down.” She bowed her head and went inside.

Troy’s head was spinning. He needed to fix this. After a few ideas came to mind, he pulled out his phone. Mrs. Darbus was right. He knew what to do. Hopefully.

A light knock on the door pulled you from your sanctuary of blankets. Your mom slowly opened your bedroom door with a small smile. When she heard what happened, she had no problem calling you out for the rest of the day.

“Why don’t you come down for some dinner, sweetie?”

“I’m not really hungry.” You pulled a loose string from your quilt.

“I really think you should come downstairs.” Her smile grew suspiciously and she left the door open a crack.

Eventually, your curiosity got the better of you and you tossed your blankets aside. The lights in the kitchen were off and the doors to the patio were open. You stepped outside and gasped. The twinkling lights looked like stars and little notes hung from the trees. In the middle of it all stood Troy and a candle lit dinner, complete with a bouquet of chocolate covered strawberries.

“Glad you could make it.” Troy beamed, motioning for you to sit down. You did and he passed you a basket of breadsticks. “Don’t worry, my mom helped me cook.”

“Troy, this is…” You couldn't even find the right words. You started to read some of the notes. Deserves a standing ovation. Her recital rocked the house. She’s the best friend I could ask for.

“When I saw what those girls wrote, I wanted to show you what East High really thinks of you.” Troy explained, placing a hand on top of yours. “Sharpay even wrote one.” You both laughed when you read it. She’s one of the few people I can bare sharing the stage with. You blew out a breath.

“The thing is, I can handle being called talentless and all of that.” You took the folded piece of paper out of your pocket. “This one just… I don’t know.” Troy gently took it from you , his hand tightening around your as he scanned those four awful words. At first, he didn’t get it. You had changed him in all the best possible ways. You made him want to be himself. You inspired him not to be scared of what everyone thought. So how could someone say you were just a charity case?

“You-” He took a deep breath, still wrapping his head around it. “You don’t actually believe this, do you?” You shrugged.

“I mean… sometimes, I guess.” You tore off a piece of bread and rolled it between your fingers. “When it’s just the two of us, I feel like nothing else matters. But when I see you out there on the court, I can’t help but wonder… why me?”

Troy almost looked hurt. He started gathering little heart shaped pieces of paper from the tree and walked around the table. You stood as he put the notes in your hand, reading aloud as he handed each to you.

“September 17th, 2006. The day that we met. When we got stuck painting sets, you were one of the only people to talk to me about something that wasn’t basketball. You made me feel like a regular guy.

“October 31, 2007. The night I convinced you to come with me to Chad’s Halloween party. I was a pirate and you were Elizabeth Bennet. That was the first time that you really opened up and were able to be yourself around people who weren’t just me and Gabriella.” His eyes locked with yours. “Look at the back of your necklace.”

You flipped the heart charm around and read the date engraved in the silver.

“January 3rd, 2007.” You felt tears building. “My recietal.”

“Being on that stage with you made me see a whole different side of both of us. Our voices fit together like we weren’t meant to sing with anybody else.” He brushed a hair out of your face. “It was the moment that I realised I was in love with you.”

“I love you too, Troy.” You cried, closing the space between the two of you. He was right. It felt like you weren’t meant to kiss anyone else. When you pulled away, you were both grinning. “Do you think we can still perform? It’ll be difficult but I still want to sing.” He just grinned bigger and kissed your forehead.

“Ryan and I already have a plan. You just have to come to rehearsal tomorrow morning.” You nodded and the two of you sat back down to finish dinner.

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this nervous. You and Troy were learning and rehearsing with the system all day and the number would hopefully be unforgettable. But there was so much that could go wrong and you were absolutely terrified. You nearly jumped out of your skin when Sharpay appeared behind you.

“You don’t have to worry about Madison. She has enough detention to keep her from anymore plotting. And I had no problem reminding her who was in charge of any and all sabotages.” She smirked, eyes scanning your outfit. “Good choice.” And that was probably the closest thing to approval from Sharpay Evans that you would ever get.

Ryan came to make sure everything was secure and connected, reminding you when you needed to stand and be ready. He assured you everything would be fine.

“Looks like you’re on.” He gave you an encouraging thumbs up. You took a deep breath and used your crutches to walk across the stage. The audience murmured as you sat on the swing that hung from the ceiling. The lights were bright enough that you couldn’t see Troy stage. You gripped the necklace around your neck for courage. There was no backing out now.

“Take my hand. Take a breath. Hold me close and take one step.” As you sang, Troy slowly made his way onto the stage. His smile made your nerves disappear. “Keep your eyes locked on mine and let the music be your guide.” With every word, Troy walked closer to the swing. His eyes asked if you were ready. You gave him a small nod and he swept you up in his arms as you both sang the chorus.

“It’s like catching lightning, the chances of finding someone like you.” The choreography was a stunning mix of lifts and spinning in Troy’s arms, your feet never even touching the floor. “It’s one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do.”

Troy lifted you up one more time and set you down gently before beginning the next verse.

“Take my hand, I’ll take the lead. And every turn, will be safe with me.” He twirled you slightly and you fell back for him to catch you, kicking your leg out so your skirt flared. “Don’t be afraid, afraid to fall.” His strong arms wrapped around you and he swung you around. “You know I’ll catch you through it all.” He let go as you were pulled up into the air. The audience gasped. You had forgotten they were there. “And you can’t keep us apart.”

“Even a thousand miles can’t keep us apart.” He almost forgot the words as the light practically made your white dress glow against your skin. Your necklace sparkled. As cliche as it sounded, you looked like an angel.

His wires lifted him up to meet you.

“Cause my heart is where you are.” And so the floating waltz began. “It’s like catching lightning, the chances of finding someone like you. It’s on in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do.” You felt like you were dancing on clouds. Troy couldn’t stop beaming.

“And with every step together, we just keep on getting better.”

For the bridge, the wires had you circling each other on opposite sides of the stage, slowly getting closer.

“Oh, no mountain’s too high and no ocean’s too wide. Cause together or not, our dance won’t stop. Let it rain, let it pour, what we have is worth fighting for.” You finally came back together. “You know I believe that we were meant to be.” With Troy holding you, you leaned back into another tumbling spin in the air.

The final chorus slowly brought you down to the floor, you sitting back down on the swing.

“So can I have this dance?” Troy stood in front of you, bowing to kiss your hand as if he was really asking.

“Can I have this dance?”

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto;

#zac efron #troy bolton x reader #what team?#WILDCATS #once a wildcat #high school musical imagine #can i have this dance #troy bolton imagine #zac efron imagines

475 notes · View notes

reidswritings · 4 years ago

Text

the three times that it was obvious

word count; 1.9k

warnings; nothing i think-- just fluff (and a lame ending and also probably some spelling errors haha)

authors note; this is like part 2.5 of times they were just too cute so read those is you want, but you dont have to cause it’ll make sense on its own,, anyways, as always, i hope you enjoy! [ part one and part two ]

bonus— times Spencer was just a little too in love with his girl

There was no one he loved more. That was a fact. Another fact was that everyone knew that. No one questioned his love for the Pretty Girl— well, no one except aforementioned Pretty Girl. That was usually on her bad days though, but on all of the other days, she knew it better than he did. There was many times that he proved it to himself— though, not that it was a competition or anything.

It had just been so long since he was able to openly love someone as much as he loved His Girl. Growing up in the closet, he was never able to be open about who he loved— in fear of getting beat up, not that that saved him from any beatings. Then, when he was older, he fell in love with the beauty that was JJ. But she got pregnant and then fell in love with his best friend— Emily Prentiss. Not that he was questioning her taste in women— because Emily was probably the hottest one of the whole BAU Team. There was no competition on that one.

And once he finally got over her, it was on to the beautiful Doctor Maeve Donavan— but that was over before it even began. Damn stalkers, damn unsubs, damn everything that came with the horrible situation.

That one crushed him. Took away his spirit along with his belief in love. Took away his belief in anything that wasn’t himself. Well, maybe even took himself with it too. That was the one that left him with more trauma than he cared to admit.

That was the one that he was afraid that he’d never heal from.

But then there was her. Then, he met the love of his life. Then was the moment he felt his heart begin to stitch itself back together.

The moment the beauty walked through the huge glass doors was the moment he felt like he could breathe again. He was beyond grateful for the Pretty Girl. And he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to her, even if she was never actually his.

Luckily though, the universe owed him one and she was head over heals for the scrawny agent. It didn’t take long for them to find each other, actually it only took a week of knowing each other (and Spencer following her around like a lost puppy), until he asked her out to coffee. He had learned from his mistakes before. He had learned not to wait— he had learned that nothing was guaranteed. Not even the next breath.

He learned to go for what he wanted— even with his fear of rejection, it was better to know.

Spencer Reid was not the best with words— ironic, considering he knew all of the words, even ones in different languages. The one thing he was good at, though, was showing her (and everyone) just how much he loved his Pretty Girl. He wasn’t aware of it at first— he just did the things. It was second nature to him. It was as easy as breathing for him.

The only reason he was fully aware now was because of his lovely friend, Derek Morgan. It was a normal day at the work place— bad guys doing bad things and innocent people dying because of it.

His girl was being sent out to get said bad guys while he was forced to stay back and work on the geological profile (not that he was complaining, he loved doing it). The only down side of loving someone on The Team was watching them run into danger rather than from it.

He never underestimated his girl— he knew she was a badass who could handle her own, but it was still nerve-racking, not knowing if he’d see her again (he was as dramatic as he was genius).

So, with his heart thumping with anxiety, he had kissed her, like it would be their last time, just before she ran from the police station, and said, “We kiss before and we kiss again after, okay?”

She had agreed to this like it was nothing— because it made sense to her. She wanted that last kiss, just in case.

Just in case.

The dark-skinned hunk had witnessed the whole thing. The older man had snorted and muttered under his breath, “Smooth, Reid. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”

Derek never let him live it down. And Spencer let his friend poke fun, because that meant that he got another day with his Pretty Girl— he knew the day that Derek stopped teasing was the day that he no longer got to love Y/N. And that was a day he wasn’t willing to have.

Another time he noticed it was again because of a BAU Team Member. It was yet another long night at the office— paperwork calling their names and sleep calling them even harder, stress headaches creeping into their skulls and necks aching from leaning over desks for so long.

The Genius had watched his Pretty Girl yawn for the umpteenth time and he sighed, leaning back in his uncomfortable chair. It was routine, she’d groan in frustration, yawn, flex her shoulders and then get back to burning the midnight oil. He assumed that she was growing frustrated with the seemingly growing pile of folders on her desk— Spencer had made his way through his stack and was now finishing up his last. Not everyone had his special power of memorization and speed reading.

The young agent stood, cracking a few bones as he did so. Grabbing his now empty coffee mug, he stalked over to his girl’s desk. Upon reaching, he leaned against the large table, cup balancing on his folded leg. Y/N looked up at him, eyes tired and longing to be taken home. Though, she smiled at him and it warmed the boy’s heart.

“Hey,” it was soft, only meant for her. He was smiling too, he was smiling the smile reserved only for Y/N. Emily, who still sat at her desk, looked over and welcomed the break from the gruesome paperwork on top her cluttered desk.

“Hi,” it was no louder than Spencer’s words, but loud enough for Emily to hear.

“You doin’ alright?” Spencer’s head was ducked down towards his girl. One of his large hands was still wrapped around his mug while the other one had found its way to the shoulder of one very tired Y/N. Her head was leaning on his hand, leaving a small kiss. She smiled at him like he was the only person in the world that mattered— and in her small world, he was. “You want me to take some off your plate?”

She sighed, leaning back in her chair now. Emily watched still, smiling. She was happy that the two had finally found happiness away from the horrible world they all had created for themselves. “No, it’s okay. Thank you though, Spence.”

He smiled. She continued, hands holding another empty mug. “You know what you could do, though?”

“Hmm?” The boy raised his eyebrows, mouth shrinking into the smirk that make Y/N weak in the knees.

“Get me more?” She smiled, lips parting to show her teeth. Spencer blushed, ducking his head again. His hand moved to take the mug from her, standing. They had been dating for awhile now, but she still managed to make him breathless. Their fingers brushed and he felt his stomach erupt in excitement— he hoped that feeling never went away. He would give up forever with her just to keep feeling the way he did in that moment.

“Anything for you, my love.” He bent down to her level, a kiss leaving itself behind on her forehead. Their eyes closed, savoring the moment— that is until the loud voice of Emily Prentiss rang out.

“I could use some more, too!” The lovebirds looked over at their mutual friend. She was cheekily smiling, arm hanging in the air, fingers closed around her own empty mug. The Genius Boy straightened up, frown present on his once smiling lips.

“What?” She laughed, red lips still stretched into her characteristic smile that she more often than not wore, “You’re going that way anyways!”

Spencer’s mouth opened to protest—probably— but Emily spoke again. “You’ll get Y/N some, but not me? After all I’ve done for you? My heart hurts.”

The boy snorted, “Yeah? Well, I’m in love with her, not you, Em.”

The last time that proved that Spencer loved his girl more than anything was something that everyone in the office knew of. The lovebirds liked to pretend that it was their little secret, but in reality they both knew it was one shared with most everyone.

It wasn’t a secret that Spencer and Y/N were hopelessly in love with each other— in fact it was very clear to anyone who walked through the BAU doors. Though in love, they were not the biggest fans of PDA. However, Spencer and his Pretty Girl were still very, very, lovey with one another at the workplace.

Of course, that doesn’t mean they were making out against Spencer’s desk or having secret sex in the BAU bathroom— no, it means that they often shared glances from across the bullpen and small touches when the other is getting just a bit too frustrated and knowing smiles every other hour.

It was the little things they did that kept them on their toes— kept them head over heals. It was special to them that they kept up the romance, no matter what was going on in their very hectic lives.

For example, the two very often left small little notes for each other around the BAU. Nothing inappropriate or out of line, it was usually just something that would be sure to make the other smile. And it wasn’t anywhere that was obvious either, it was almost always in a spot that would only be discovered by Y/N or Spencer.

And sometimes, just sometimes, another member of The Team would stumble across the colorful sticky notes stuck to the back of a chair or to the side of one of Spencer’s many, many, books or to the tip of a pen or even on a coffee mug in the cabinet— unfound by The Lovebirds yet. The Aforementioned Team Member would just smile like they were in on some little secret—because they were—and place the note back so it could be found by a Lovesick Agent later.

They were sentimental people, keeping each and every note— which The Team so desperately wanted to poke fun at, but they let them have this. They let them stay in their little bubble just for a little while longer— as long as it made The lovebirds happy, it made The Team happy too.

In fact, once JJ and Emily had stumbled across the small box that held each and every sticky note. They didn’t pry— well, they tried not to, but curiosity got the best of the two girls. They ended up reading each one, and they were so goddamn adorable, they just about cried.

If there was one thing The Team could agree on, it would be that Spencer and Y/N were perfect for each other and that they all would rather die than let anything happen to the two.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer x reader #mgg #matthew gray gubler

210 notes · View notes

impala666 · 4 years ago

Text

The One With The Stoned Guy Part Two (Amuse Bouche)

Sorry it took so long! But here is the next part to the Friends Rewrite. I’m just kind of writing when I find time. Enjoy all!!!!!!

Last Part (Part One), Series Masterlist

It was the next morning and the night before was the first night where you actually slept at Bryan’s apartment, you didn’t even go to yours and Ross’s apartment. But no you found yourself walking toward Monica and Rachel’s apartment for early breakfast before everyone went off to work or in your case school and the work. “Good morning,” you cheered with a smile. Everyone in the living room bid you a good morning in return while Joey sat there and stared at you with that same sad dog expression. So Ross must have told him that you never went home. “So, I heard you didn’t make it home last night.” Rachel confirmed your suspicions, but apparently Ross just decided to up and tell everybody.

“Yeah, last night was my first night actually staying there,” you smiled brightly at her when you thought about all of the adventures that you had with Bryan.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Rachel asked as she scrunched up her face and came closer to you to make your conversation a bit more private. You were about to answer her when all of a sudden the apartment door slammed from behind you.

“Can you see my nipples through this shirt?” Your big brother asked after he entered. He made sure to lift up his suit jacket so that all of you could have a good look.

“No,” Rachel answered for him as she carefully looked. “But don’t worry I’m sure they’re still there.” You laughed at her harmless joke.

“Where’re you going Mr. Suity-Man?” Phoebe asked him from her spot in the living room next to Ross.

“Well,” Chandler reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. “I have an appointment to see Dr. Robert Pillman, career counselor a-go-go.” You listened to him as you took a seat on the couch, but realized that you sat too close to Joey like you used to. So you had to awkwardly slide in the opposite direction no matter if it made you a little upset and Joey very. “I added the a-go-go.” Chandler emphasized as all of them ignored the thing that just happened.

“A career counselor?” Rachel asked him, wondering why he was going to see this guy.

“Hey, you guys all know what you want to do.” Chandler whined to you all as he started to get defensive.

“I don’t,” Rachel chimed in.

“Hey, you guys in the living room all know what you want to do. You have goals, you have dreams. I don’t have a dream!” Chandler declared. But no matter how serious he tried to come across as, you all still found it a little funny.

“Ah, the lesser-known “I don’t have a dream,” speech.” Ross called Chandler out on his mistake.

“Y/N/N?” Chandler asked and placed his hand on your shoulder so that you would turn in your seat and look at him. “How did you know you wanted to go to Esthetician school?” He only asked because you had taken such a big leap to follow your dreams even if it made a few other people unhappy.

“I don’t know really. I just never really enjoyed or got into anything that I was learning while I went to college. But I always enjoyed skin and skincare and makeup, so once I actually found a career in it. I just decided to go for it.” You explained. “And even though it was terrifying at first, I know that it was the perfect decision.” Chandler couldn’t find words, he was just so proud and jealous of you. He just wished that he could find something that he was just as passionate about.

“Oh, I love my life! I love my life!” Monica cheered as she had just gotten back from an interview with that restaurant guy. She was beaming from ear to ear and it looked like it hurt.

“Oh, Brian’s Song.” Phoebe guessed, thinking that Monica was quoting a song.

“The meeting with that guy went great?” Rachel asked her after Phoebe’s strange outburst.

“It was so great. He showed me where the restaurant’s going to be. It’s this cute little place on 10th Street; it’s not too big, it’s not too small. It’s just right.” Monica beamed as she shared her experience for her new job opportunity.

“Was it formerly owned by by a blonde woman and some bears?” Chandler joked, when Monica accidentally quoted the famous nursery rhyme.

“So, anyway I’m cooking dinner for him Monday night. You know, kind of like an audition.” Monica continued as she just ignored everything that Chandler just said. “And Phoebe he really wants you to be there,” she explained as she made her way over to the woman in the living room. “Which would be great for me because then you can make oh’s and ah’s and you can make yummy noises.”

“What’re you going to make?” Rachel asked Monica.

“Yummy noises,” Phoebe answered instead, acting like it was obvious.

“And Monica, what are you gonna make?” You asked, changing the question to one that everyone could understand.

“I don’t know. It’s just got to be so great.” Monica answered you as she walked over to her shelf of cookbooks to try and come up with some ideas.

“Oh! I know what you should make.” Phoebe announced as she ran over to join Monica and Rachel in the kitchen. Almost knocking you down in the process as you made your way over to them, as well. “You should make that thing with the stuff.” Phoebe said as she sprinkled imaginary spices into her hand. “You know that...thing.” She just couldn’t think of it. But Phoebe could tell she wasn’t getting through to any of you. “Okay, I don’t know.” She finally gave up.

“Hey, guys. Does anyone know a good date place in the neighborhood?” Ross asked, changing the subject.

“Uh, how about Tony’s?” Joey suggested, and seeing as you used to date him you could see where this was going. “If you can finish a 32 ounce steak, it’s free.” Ross looked up at you for confirmation to see if he ever took you there.

“Yeah, no. That was the date from hell.” You felt bad for saying so, but it was true.

“You said you loved it!” Joey whined.

“Yeah, but we couldn’t finish because no human can, so you got upset and left, sticking me with the cheque.” He treated you like a queen, but you had to call a spade a spade. That date stunk.

“Okay, does anyone know a good place if you’re not dating a puma?” Ross asked again as he joked at Joey’s answer.

“Who are you going out with?” Chandler asked him with a chuckle.

“Oh! Is this the bug lady?” Phoebe asked Ross.

“I love you, Ross.” Rachel joked as she started buzzing like a bug and using her fingers as antennas.

“Her name is Celia. She’s not a bug lady. She’s curator of insects at the museum.” Ross defended.

“So a bug lady?” You asked since Ross was trying to be technical, but he knew that you were messing around.

“So, what’re you guys gonna do?” Monica asked as she flipped through a cookbook at the table.

“I just thought we’d go out to dinner and then bring her back to my place and I’d introduce her to my monkey.” Ross sounded like he was 100% joking but when you looked at him his face was serious.

“And he’s not speaking metaphorically.” Chandler mumbled to himself.

“So, back to your place. You’re thinking maybe, heh-heh?” Joey asked Ross as he implied sex.

“Well, I don’t know heh-heh.” Ross said under his breath to Joey. “I’m hoping heh-heh. So Y/N can you steer clear of the apartment tonight.” You nodded even though you had nowhere to go since Monica had her dinner tonight and you and Joey were broken up. You would have to just go back to Bryan’s, oh well. Too bad.

“I’m telling you-that monkey is a chick magnet. She’s going to take one look at his furry cute little face and it’ll seal the deal.” Joey promised him.

*******

It was later in the evening, all of you were back at Monica and Rachel’s while Monica tried out some new recipes to have all of you try. Joey, Phoebe, and Rachel sat at the kitchen table. While you and Bryan sat alone in the living room. You really were surprised at how well everyone was getting along with Bryan, including Joey. They weren’t really best friends because clearly Joey still harbored some feelings, but they were able to be in a room together. That was all you could ask for. The both of you sat on the couch talking with Bryan’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. Bryan was about to continue the fire story that he had been meaning to tell you, but he jumped out of his seat when the apartment door slammed shut from an aggressive force. “Oh, my God. What happened to you?” Rachel asked, you kneeled on the sofa to turn and look who had entered. It was Chandler with his shirt unbuttoned slightly and tie loose, with a stack of folders looking he had had a day.

“8 and a half hours of aptitude tests, intelligence tests, personality tests and what do I learn?” Chandler also seemed a little on edge. “You are ideally suited for a career in data processing for a large multinational cooperation.” Chandler read off of the test result that he had gotten.

“That’s so great! Because you already know how to do that!” You cheered him on sarcastically. Bryan chuckling quietly as he looked up at you.

“Can you believe it? Don’t I seem like somebody who should be doing something really cool?” Chandler asked all of you as he paced along the kitchen, half-heartedly waving to Bryan without looking at him. “I just always pictured myself doing something…something.” Chandler frowned down at the floor as he lightly stomped his foot.

“Oh, Chandler, I know.” Rachel got up from her seat and half hugged the man as she patted him on his chest. “I know. Oh, hey! You can see your nipples through this shirt.” But Rachel’s realization did not seem to help Chandler as he turned his head and glared down at the woman.

“Here you go. Maybe this will cheer you up.” Monica tried as she offered Chandler a plate of mini food.

“Ohh, you know I had a grape about five hours ago. So I better split this with you.” He joked again as he tried to push passed his disappointing day.

“It’s supposed to be that small, it’s a pre-appetizer. The French called it an Amuse Bouche.” Monica taught all of you. So Chandler took one for the team and popped one into his mouth, when suddenly he wasn’t as upset at the moment.

“Well, it is amoozing.” Chandler joked even though he couldn’t help but get where Monica was coming from.

“You’re friends are so weird.” Bryan said quietly to you as he deeply chuckled.

“I know,” you beamed. “Isn’t it amazing.” You smiled at him in return and Bryan wrapped an arm around your waist as he pecked a kiss to your forehead.

“Hello?” Monica said as she answered the phone that had started to ring a couple seconds ago. “Oh, hi, Wendy. Yeah 8 o’clock. What did we say, ten dollars an hour? Okay, great. I’ll see you then. Bye.” Monica hung up the quick phone call and you couldn’t help but notice the hurt and surprised look on Rachel’s face.

“Ten dollars an hour for what?” Phoebe asked, before Rachel could jump to conclusions.

“Oh, I asked one of the waitress’s at work to help me out.” You couldn’t help but cringe when Monica didn’t even realize her mistake.

“Waitressing?” Rachel asked in surprise.

“Uh-oh,” Joey sang as he stood up from his chair.

“Of course I thought of you, but...but,” Monica couldn’t even think of an excuse.

“But-but?” Rachel repeated for her, you could tell that she was starting to get a little upset.

“But you see this night had to go perfect, you know.” Monica’s excuse was already flimsy. “And well, Wendy’s more of a...professional waitress.” She really was just digging herself in deeper.

“Oh. I see, and I’ve sort of been maintaining my amature status so that I can waitress in the Olympics.” Rachel joked to hide her hurt.

“You know, I don’t mean to brag, but I waited tables in Innsbruck in ‘76.” You added to try to make the conversation a bit more lighthearted. But Rachel did not find it funny at all when she glared at you, so you shrunk down and hid behind Bryan for protection.

“Amuse Bouche?” Chandler offered Rachel the plate of food to try and diffuse the situation. You were about to kiss Bryan when he leaned in, but a voice made you jump up.

“Hey, Y/N.” Joey’s voice rang out.

“Yeah?” You asked, wondering what could be so important that he was interrupting your moment with Bryan.

“We’re still on for hanging out, right?” He asked, you just furrowed your eyebrows at him. What game was he trying to play at?

“Um, yeah. Sorry must have forgotten,” you tried to play it off. But even you knew that your face just read surprise.

“Great, see you then,” Joey smiled. So then you tried to play it off with a smile, but you were breaking when you felt Bryan look at you with slight confusion.

Taglist:

@vampiregirl1797

@kellysimagines

@shizzybarnaclee

#friends rewrite #friends #Joey Tribbiani #joey tribbiani x reader #reader #bing!reader #sister!bing #chandler bing #monica geller #ross geller #rachel green #phoebe buffay

74 notes · View notes

hournites · 3 years ago

Text

A lot of ways to love you (teach me through your eyes)

Hournite Week Day 7: Love Languages

Summary: Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Gifts, Quality Time, Touch. Or, Rick, Beth, and their many languages of love.

Thank you for coming along on this first HN week journey with me! ❤️

~.~

Words of Affirmation

Beth found Rick by himself at the corner of their shared history class, carving his initials into the desk. She didn’t understand why he’d put himself there. It was like a brooding corner to be miserable.

“Hey,” she said, taking the seat in front of his desk. “What’s wrong?”

Rick dug deeper to splinter the wood. “They think I cheated on my chem test.”

Without asking, Beth unzipped Rick’s bag to pull out the test. Rick let her.

She gaped at him as she scanned over the F and comments from the teacher. He always treated Beth kindly when they passed in the halls, but she never actually had Mr. Geralds. Chemistry wasn’t her strong suit like Rick, but there wasn’t a doubt that she’d given some of the same answers with a great grade from the other science teacher. “Are you serious? That’s crazy. You’re going to contest that, right?”

“You’re not going to even ask if I did?”

“I know you didn’t, you’re too smart.”

“I used to steal shit,” he muttered under his breath and dropped his pencil. “Haven’t heard you say I’m too smart for that.”

Beth slipped his test into her folder to return to at a later time, right now focusing on Rick.

“Hey, that’s not fair.” When Rick wouldn’t meet her eyes, she leaned in closer. “Look at me.”

Rick did.

“You know you deserved a good grade. And you’ve done what you did to get by.” She glanced at the vandalism briefly. “There are people here who know you’re better than what the majority of the town thinks.” She lowered her voice to keep her next words between them. “You’re a hero. You’ve helped save everyone in this town. So show them who you really are.”

She smiled when he let out a small huff, she knew he was listening. “I’ll go to the principal’s office with you, and we can get Pat to vouch for us. We both know that for Chem you should be in AP.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” he lied, shifting uncomfortably from all her nice words.

“If it weren’t a big deal, you wouldn’t have done that.” She pointed at the roughened mess he’d made of the school desk. “I know you better than you think.”

Act of Service

“Has anyone seen Beth?”

Rick walked around the main area of Pat’s cabin. It was after 2 AM. Barbara and Jennie were making late-night comfort food in the kitchen. Pat was manning the first aid station, tending to Mike, Jakeem and Yolanda’s injuries from Sportsmaster. Courtney was bonding or something with the staff in some strange ritual she had after a life-threatening mission. Rick just stepped out of the shower, washing the grime from his arms and face.

“She’s upstairs, I think!” Yolanda called, holding her ribs from her seat on top of the table. Rick shook his head when Pat admonished her not to yell. Rick made it up the stairs two at a time, stopping when he found Beth with her packed school bag on the floor in front of the couch. She was searching through papers, openly crying. She hadn’t even taken her cape off yet.

Rick crouched down beside her. “Hey,” he said softly. She looked utterly exhausted. “Are you okay? You said you didn’t get hurt.”

“I’m not hurt.” She hiccuped, flipping through more papers, a little hysterical. It looked like it was for school. “I can’t find my math assignment. It’s due tomorrow morning.”

“Did you finish it?” he asked.

“I don’t remember.” She wiped at her tears as she cried harder. “I might’ve left it at home, I can’t find it. I’m too tired, I can’t think.”

“Yeah,” Rick agreed. His bones were weary but he had always felt the least affected after battling it out with the ISA. He suffered plenty of superficial cuts and bruises, but he hardly felt them because his hourglass really protected him. He couldn’t imagine the hit the night must’ve taken on Beth’s body. Pat was going to be driving them back to main Blue Valley at 4 or 5 o’clock in the morning to get them back to school. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a random Wednesday. It’s not like they had a choice.

“Did you ask Chuck?”

“No.” Her lip wobbled, face contorting into another sob. Rick regretted asking. It was clear she was far too drained. It would’ve been simple to have asked Chuck to scan her bag to find out, but she hadn’t thought of it.

“Okay, okay,” Rick said. “Go to bed. You’re not going to be able to do the homework now even if you found it.” Rick got up to get to the top of the stairs, calling down for Barbara.

When he returned, he helped her up and managed to get her to let go of her school bag. “We’ll look for it before we leave, okay?” Rick ran a hand through his damp hair, his own eyelids started to droop. “I promise you’ll get it done before school.”

Barb joined them upstairs and coaxed Beth to change out of her suit, leading her downstairs with her regular clothes and a promise of a warm bed and tea.

Rick followed to grab Chuck when Beth wasn’t looking, turning him on once alone to help identify if this alleged math homework was even in her bag. Together they found what she was talking about. Ten problems of pre-calc. She was right. It was rushed and not done.

Rick sighed, tucking it under his arm. He said goodnight to the rest and retired to his assigned room. He turned on the lamp on the desk where he first solved the code of his father’s journal, spreading out the assignment and using Chuck as a calculator. It dawned on him an hour later as he rubbed at his tired eyes how he would be staying up all night to finish homework that wasn’t even his.

Gifts

Beth was immersed in her book when two hands landed on her collarbone. She looked down, touching the skin at the opening of her shirt when she felt the weight of something new at the base of her throat.

“What’s this?”

Rick murmured in her ear from behind. “An early birthday present.”

She let out a soft gasp when he finished with the clasp. A tiny brass hourglass pendant with sand just like Hourman’s trickled steadily beside her rainbow pendant.

“Woah.” She glanced up at him. “You got me an hourglass?” She bit down on her lip, dread creeping into her mind when she realized this had to be expensive. She struggled to voice what she was feeling out loud, but Rick must’ve caught the complicated expression on her face. He smoothed his hand along the sleeve of her cardigan and reassured her the cost didn’t push him into any kind of financial ruin.

“Did you not realize I’ve been working for Pat before school? I had some spare cash. Trust me, there’s nothing better I’d spend my money on.”

The puzzle clicked into place. Beth had been meeting Rick at the Pit Stop every morning before school for what felt like months now. It made sense he was there to work on the cars. Beth felt her face heat up at his implicit soft-spoken confession. “Thank you,” she said in a whisper, still in awe. The necklace was beautiful and she felt fuzzy ever since his hands were on her neck. “I love it.”

His eyes, usually hardened and defensive, skilled at warding off unwanted attention, now creased at the corners. Gentle, quiet, yearning, he watched her accept his gift. “I’m glad.”

Impulsively she asked, “Could you unclasp the rainbow one?”

Rick did. The chain pooled in her palm. She shook her head, pushing it to his chest. “You should have it.”

His brows furrowed in response. “You want to give me your... rainbow necklace?”

She flushed when he said it like that. She toyed with her new one, looking at him from beneath her lashes. “Well…” she said. “I have something of you, now you can have a symbol of me.”

Rick let out a small laugh. Beth was pretty sure if this were anyone else he’d say it was stupid, so she couldn’t help the surge of pride when he nestled her necklace around his own neck.

“How does it look?”

It was actually twisted. She flattened it so it would look the way it was supposed to over the collar of his shirt. Rick didn’t complain, but it was bright and cheery and clashed with his entire self. Beth bit her lip, withholding another laugh, and took pity on him, changing her mind to tuck the necklace underneath. “Perfect now.”

“Beth, I hate to interrupt this moment but you will be late for school if you don’t leave the Pit Stop in the next five minutes.”

Chuck broke them out of their weird double transfixion. They both found themselves smiling shyly at each other, neither truly wanting to move.

“Come on,” he said after another few moments of them smiling at each other without moving. “Put your bike in my trunk. I’ll drive you.”

Quality Time

When Rick stopped by at Beth’s locker, she was talking to Charity, a new close friend she made over the summer volunteering at the Blue Valley Community Centre.

“Hey,” Rick greeted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, waiting for Beth to visit.

“Hey,” Charity said back. She swept her blonde bangs out of her face to continue their conversation.

“Charity had a great idea that we should enter for the sustainability case competition,” Beth filled in.

“We’re going to need at least a month to prepare. I was thinking we could meet Tuesdays and Thursdays after school?”

Rick stuck a hand in his pocket, sullen. Thursdays were their days, unofficially. Not that they’ve ever said so out loud, but with JSA training afternoons the rest of the week, Beth working on a case competition their days off basically meant not getting to see her. Which was fine. It happened. Rick just wishes it didn’t have to.

“I can’t on Thursdays,” Beth told her. She glanced up at Rick to give him a smile. He straightened up, meeting her gaze with obvious surprise. “Those are our nights.”

Charity paused, watching the two with curious eyes.

“We can cancel,” Rick found himself saying and actually meaning it. “You don’t have to stay on my account.”

Beth’s nose scrunched up as she shook her head, mind already made. “Nah. Sorry Charity, Thursday doesn’t work for me. Take out your schedule, maybe we have a shared free period somewhere.”

“Oh, yeah, sure! Okay!”

Rick ducked his head to hide his smile as Charity fished through her bag for her agenda.

Touch

When Beth stumbled out of the cell she’d been bound in, she hadn’t realized just how long she’d been gone. She was hungry and exhausted and felt horrifically dirty in her soiled Dr. Mid-Nite suit, but then she got a glimpse of Hourman nearly pushing the others in his rush to get to her all she could feel was relief.

Rick cupped her face, eyes squeezed shut as he held her close, his thumbs brushed along her cheeks, under her dry eyes. She felt the buzz of adrenaline rushing through him just by being so near, but the way he touched her was gentle, so gentle.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whispered, a startling unfamiliar word to fall in succession like that, coming from Rick. His hands flew to the crown of her cowl, tugging it down to kiss her forehead again and again. “Thank you.”

I’m okay now, she tried to comfort him, though her words were choked, smothered out by the crushing weight of it all. He was crying as his lips brushed over her face. It wasn’t his stamina. The buzz, she felt. Rick was shaking. It hit her then, that maybe he wasn’t sure Beth was ever going to come back. Beth had scared him. He was scared.

Beth vaulted with her tired, numb legs, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck. Her mind went calm for the first time since before they left home, muscles relaxing as she let Rick scoop her up.

She was safe. She was home.

Beth was loved.

#hournite week #hournite #hournite week 21 #hournites fic #love languages #fluff #hurt/comfort #i'm proud of this one

24 notes · View notes

ressyfaerie · 3 years ago

Note

Request: I saw this tattoo programme where 2 lesbian friends went on and they got to pick the other's tattoo and they can't look till it's done. One picked "you mean everything" for the friend and she was so worried about her seeing in case she hated it. Then hers (from her friend) was "I love you". This had them all emotional and got them both to confess & get together. Anywaaaay, a similar idea for Tyka?

Sorry for the late response! I’m working again and still recovering! This is the LAST FIC REQUEST of this askbox being open!

Soooo likkee. Once upon a time I talked to someone about a tattoo shop AU? This gave me some serious inspiration sooooooo here we gooooo

Halfway through I remembered! I (mentally?) based a lot of this idea on @ishkajules tattoo tyka shop AU!

Oh, disclaimer, I want a tattoo but know NOTHING about them aaaahhhahaha

“You’re a great artist, but you’re scaring away your clients.”

“Why do you care, Tala?”

“I don’t. They come to me after you reject them, or make them so uncomfortable they sit in the next chair over.”

“So then, why are you telling me this?”

Kai cleaned his equipment. It was nearing the end of the day, he figured he wouldn’t have any more walk-in customers.

“I just thought I’d let you know. You’re losing us money. If you don’t fix it, I’ll change your pay to commission only.”

Kai scowled. Who did he think he was? Threatening his pay like that?

“Like I said. You’re a phenomenal artist. But you're lucky I hired you. No one else will with your personality.”

Kai gave him a glare, “I’ll try to do better, boss.”

“Good. Keep that mouth in check.” Tala gave him a ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.

As soon as he turned away Kai rolled his eyes.

The bell in the shop rang.

“Hello! Welcome, how can we help you?” Tala welcomed the new customer with his regular fake friendly greeting.

“Hey... I’m Tyson.”

The kid seemed nervous. He didn’t have any art on his body.

Blank canvas.

“Um. Is Kai here?”

“Kai? Are you looking for him specifically?”

“Yeah! I follow his stuff on instagram and I really want my first tattoo to be done by him!”

The boy’s face brightened the whole shop. Kai’s lip curled.

“Of course! Let me get him for you!”

Tala made his way to Kai in the corner, he got up in his face.

“Listen, this kid’s a newbie—”

Kai rolled his eyes, “you know I don’t ink tattoo virgins—”

“Think of it as a blank canvas. As artists we all like a good canvas, look at him! He’s perfect!”

Kai took a look at this Tyson character. He hated to admit Tala was right. He was a good blank canvas. But Kai hated working with newbie clients; always so nervous, worried about the pain. He would just rather work with a regular.

Tala got angrier, “you will tattoo him. You’ll do exactly what he wants, and above all, you will be nice.”

“Or else what?”

Tala shrugged his shoulders and smiled, “or else you’re fired.”

Kai didn’t want to admit that Tala's threat got to him. He sighed, played off as if he was slightly annoyed but obedient, “fine.”

“Good. Now go do your job.” Tala pointed to the front desk where the new client was waiting.

Kai shot Tala a glare, as he made his way to the desk. He put on his biggest fakest smile.

“Hey, I’m Kai.”

Tyson held a backpack around his shoulder, he grasped it firmly, while giving Kai the widest grin.

“I’ve been following you for a long time! I um… decided when I had enough money I wanted my first tattoo to be done by you…”

Awkward silence.

“Uh, what do you have in mind?” Kai learned how much it hurt when you kept smiling.

“I know you specialize in birds… I would love to have a red phoenix. Eventually I want a dragon. But I’d love to start with your strongest area!”

“Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

Tyson watched Kai like he was a celebrity. He had a popular art account, but that was about it. Kai just stared back at him.

“Um... I think I want it on my back…” Tyson trailed off as he grew more nervous.

“That’s a good choice. Do any designs come to mind?”

Tyson bit his lip, he looked up to the ceiling in thought, “oh!” He pulled out his phone.

He passed it to Kai showing him an old post of his. It wasn’t his best work, but he understood why he liked it.

“I can do that design easily.” Kai wondered why he was so worried—”

“I just… Don’t want it exactly like this.”

Ah right. Newbies.

“So what do you have in mind then?” Kai’s eyebrow twitched.

“I um.” Tyson rubbed the back of his head as his cheeks turned a bit red.

Kai sighed, “kid, I can’t work on you if I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Tala called to Kai, “Hey Kai! Don’t forget about your happy little tattoo gun over here!”

Kai reluctantly put on his big smile, “yeah boss, I haven't forgotten!”

He turned back to Tyson. “So what are your ideas?”

Tyson bit his lip.

“Do you have a reference I can make a design off of? Anything?”

“I… do.”

“Then show it to me.”

Tyson exhaled, then slid his backpack off his shoulder. He opened it and pulled out a sketchbook. He had it turned away from Kai making sure he wouldn’t see. He flipped through a few pages, and turned it towards Kai.

Kai grabbed it, and placed it down on the counter. He saw the sketch of the phoenix that was clearly an imitation of his style… with a twist.

Kai found himself impressed. It was a good design.

“I’ve worked on this for a few months… I’m pretty confident this is what I want… What do you think of it?”

Kai was trying to be extra nice, but he couldn't deny it was good. “It’s well done.”

“Thanks!” Tyson grinned.

The more Kai inspected the drawing the more detailed it became, it gave him new inspiration, a kind he never had before.

“Do you..” Kai cleared his throat and prodded the page with his finger. “Do you want this exact design or a design done by me?”

Tyson looked ecstatic, “would you be willing to make me an original design!?”

Kai thought for a moment. His original designs were usually reserved for regulars or people willing to drop more cash. But something about this design called to him…

He convinced himself he was inspired by his jealousy. He couldn't let this poor imitation see the world.

“I can make you a design based on this one.”

“Really!? Wow, thanks!”

“Can I borrow this sketch book?” Kai asked, while flipping the book closed.

“Um…”

“I need the design.”

“Could you take a picture?”

“I’d prefer to work with the original.” Kai’s lips hurt from smiling.

“Okay… You can borrow it.” It seemed Tyson was an extremely shy guy. “Be careful with it, okay?”

“I will.”

Kai stayed late in the shop. He worked in the studio.

“I’m locking up. Kai, I’m surprised you're still here?” Tala twirled the keys around his finger.

Kai was hunched over the small desk. He had already drawn out a few sketches. Tala inspected his work over his shoulder.

“Can you not?” Kai spat back.

“It’s a good design. I’m surprised you're putting so much effort into this kid's request. It’s not like you.”

Kai shrugged.

“He’s not loaded, you know? You’re not going to make up for it in tips.”

“I know.”

Tala felt a strange proud emotion emerge. “Alright,” he dropped the keys on the desk. “You can lock up. Have fun with your drawings.”

Kai watched the keys as they fell in front of him. He heard the door open, and close.

He sighed, then scrunched up the paper he was working with into a ball, and tossed it into the bin with the rest of the failed projects.

The sketchbook laid in front of him. He wanted to take a look at the design again. But he had lost the bookmark.

Shit.

He had to look through the book to find the right page.

There better not be anything dirty in here…

He opened it to another design.

Oh, wow.

It was a dragon, scribbled with faint watercolour. Kai grew curious, what other masterpieces did this book hold?

He began to flip through, curiously studying each design.

There were tons of dragons. Kai was interested, as he had always wanted a dragon tattoo, but he hadn’t yet met an artist who could ink scales the way he wanted.

These designs were so close to what he wanted, until—

He turned to a page with a very detailed dragon design. It took up the whole page. The colours were perfect, mixes of blues and silver. He was immediately captivated by it. His mouth hung open slightly.

It had been a long time since an art piece caught his attention.

He ran his finger down the page, careful not to smudge the drawing.

“Wow.”

Two days later Tyson came back to the shop, eagerly awaiting his tattoo.

Tala gestures to Kai from across the shop, pointing to the front desk where Tyson had just entered. He mouthed the words ‘be nice!’. Kai looked to the ceiling to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Kai got up from his station. The night before he had pulled an all-nighter. Until finally—he came out with the perfect piece. He knew Tyson would love it. He was upset with himself for putting so much thought into it, after all, he was just a newbie.

Kai tossed a black file folder on the desk.

Tyson jumped a bit, then settled back in with his backpack on his shoulder, “good morning, Kai!”

Kai put on a smile, “good morning.”

Tyson tilted his head, it was kind of cute, “did you manage to come up with anything? I know it hasn’t been long—”

“I did, I think you’ll enjoy it.” Kai opened the folder and revealed a paper, he placed it on the desk and flipped it around to show the blue-haired boy.

“Woah! Holy shit that’s so cool!” Tyson placed both his hands on the corners, admired it with an open mouth.

“Is it what you wanted?” Kai accidentally let his smile drop as he awaited the response.

“It’s perfect!” Tyson was so happy you could see his dimples.

It made Kai perform… maybe… a real smile.

“I have a test here, do you want to see what it would look like?”

“Can I? Oh man that’s so fucking cool…”

Kai gestured behind the desk, Tyson happily pushed himself through the gate. Kai pointed to his station “that’s my chair, put your stuff anywhere out of my way. Take your shirt off.”

Tyson suddenly stopped smiling and froze, Kai almost ran into him.

“Hey!” Kai started to lose his temper, but saw Tala’s red hair in the corner of his eye, he took a deep breath. “You said you wanted it on your back didn’t you?”

“Yeah…” Tyson answered back nervously.

Kai dropped the folder on his desk near the chair, “then take off your shirt and lay on your stomach.”

Tyson swallowed a hard lump in his throat.

Kai just stared at him.

Newbies. It’s just some skin. So annoying.

Tyson let his bag slide to the floor, he kicked it to the corner of the room, then he folded his arms.

Kai turned around, ready to place the stencil, then he frowned, “why do you still have your shirt on?”

Tyson went to say something, but stopped.

Kai sighed, “it’s just bare skin. I’ve worked on way more intimate body parts. You have nothing to worry about.”

Tyson shrugged, he acted confident but Kai could tell he was nervous. He grasped the ends of his shirt and rolled it over his head, throwing it on top of his bag.

“Now lay down.” Kai gestured to the chair that was horizontal from the last client.

Tyon nodded, and laid down in front of Kai, “is it going to hurt!?”

Kai closed his eyes for a moment, it took everything in him to not retort with sass, “it’s just a sticker, so we can determine the placement. It won’t hurt.”

Tyson nodded.

Kai flicked his arm, “you need to have your arms near your sides… like this.”

Kai had grabbed his closest arm and manipulated it like a rag doll, Tyson hid his face, hoping his idol didn’t see him blush.

“Okay, I’m applying it now.”

Kai expertly placed the test paper exactly where Tyson had described he wanted it. Along his right shoulder. Tyson barely moved, but Kai wasn’t sure how he would react when the actual inking started.

“Done. Take a look in the mirror.”

Tyson jumped up, nearly running to the full length mirror in the shop, twirling his body so he could see it better.

“Wow! It’s so cool!” His voice rang through the whole shop, even Tala’s client looked up from his chair.

“Thank you, Kai!”

“No problem.” Kai sat down in his chair, he picked up his tattoo gun and started to tinker with it, he looked at Tyson. “So are you ready?”

Tyson’s eyes grew wide, “r—right now!?”

Kai gave him a genuine grin, “no better time than the present.”

Tyson made his way back to Kai’s station. He looked down at the chair, “is it going to take a while?”

Kai nodded, “I’ll do the outline today. Then you can come back tomorrow and we will ink as much as we can.”

Tyson sat on the chair, still too nervous to lay down.

“Hey kid!”

Tyson looked around the shop for the echoing voice.

It came from the client on Tala’s chair. He was covered in different tattoos, “don’t be worried! But remember it's addicting! Once you get one you can’t stop!”

Tyson laughed, “thanks man!”

The man gave Tyson a thumbs up, Tala smirked in Kai’s direction.

He must enjoy torturing me… asshole.

Tyson gave Kai a huge smile, “I’m ready!”

“Good.” Kai had reached over to his station, he placed a pair of glasses on his face.

“You wear glasses!?” Tyson was intrigued.

“Yeah? Why is that surprising?” Kai wondered why Tyson cared so much, they just met after all.

Tyson mumbled, “you just… never shared anything on your instagram I guess…”

“There’s more to me than my online persona. Get on your stomach.”

Tyson instantly obeyed. He curled in his fists.

Kai made the necessary procedures, he wiped his back with a sterile wipe, Tyson shivered.

Kai had to bite his tongue from sighing.

“Sorry… it was cold.” Tyson muttered.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Kai tried to reassure him but realized he had never really reassured anyone before.

Kai prepared the gun, Tyson turned his head to him, “how much… is it going to hurt?”

God damn it. Why do they always ask...

“Not as much as you’re going to love it.”

Kai impressed himself with his response.

Tyson nodded, and turned his head away from Kai.

“Alright, I’m starting.”

Kai had done it a million times before, but it was Tyson’s first. When the gun first ran along his skin he tensed up, he made a quiet high pitched noise. Kai kept going.

He kept tensing up, too much, it would ruin the work, and Kai’s concentration. Kai stopped for a moment, “you have to untense. It hurts now but it’ll go numb soon, then it won’t be so bad.”

Kai just saw the back of Tyson’s head as he nodded.

Kai grasped his shoulder, “good, now untense.”

Tyson tried to loosen up, but his muscles were still tight.

“Breathe.”

Kai wasn’t sure what to do, but he still had his hand on his shoulder, he gave Tyson a gentle rub with the edge of his thumb.

He heard Tyson exhale, and his whole body relaxed.

“Good job.” Kai readjusted his glasses, and continued. He was leaning over Tyson’s body.

Tyson was aware just how close his idol was, he could feel his breathing as he worked. His face turned red. Over the next hour he grew used to it. He was loving the closeness. He was excited to see what it looked like done.

Tala was surprised, usually Kai put his earbuds in and avoided talking to clients. But this time, Kai kept glancing at Tyson’s hair, as if he wanted to say something, but was stalling. At just over the hour mark, Kai made his move.

“I have to admit. I looked through your sketchbook.”

Tyson jumped, “what?”

“Don’t move—”

“Sorry, but why did you do that?”

“I lost the page the design was on. Then I just kept looking.”

Tyson went silent, clearly he was upset.

Kai stopped for a second, “they’re really good.” he immediately started again.

Tyson went stone cold.

Kai continued, “your dragons are insanely intricate. I’ve never seen scale work like yours. Are they all original?”

Tyson hesitated, “yes…”

“I’m quite fond of the silver-blue dragon, the one near the end.”

“I know which one you’re talking about. It’s one of my favourites too.”

“Mhm.” Kai trailed off, still not ready to ask the question he wanted to.

A few hours later, Kai stopped, “I think that’s good for today.”

Kai put his equipment down, and laid his glasses back on his desk.

Tyson went to get up, “ow…”

“Sore?”

“Yeah, I’ve been in this position too long…”

Tyson slowly rose to a sitting position. Kai admired his shoulder.

It’s great work. I did well.

“I want to see it!” Tyson jumped to his feet making his way to the mirror. He looked in the mirror and gasped in awe.

Tala had approached, he observed the design and raised an eyebrow, “it’s really good, Kai.”

Kai crossed his arms, “come back tomorrow. I’ll colour it. But it will be a bit of work.”

Tala agreed, “it might be best to split the coloring into two appointments. Since it’s his first… How was it, Tyson?”

Tyson was still admiring his tattoo, “the pain? It was fine once I got used to it, Kai really helped.”

“Really!?” Tala looked at Kai in disbelief.

Kai shot him a glare.

Tyson put his shirt back on while Tala described how to take care of it. They made their way to the front desk and finished off some paperwork.

Tala had gone back to his desk, still within earshot.

“Thanks so much. Kai! It’s going to be awesome!” Tyson grinned, “but um… can I have my sketchbook back?”

Kai nodded, then went back to his station, and came back with the book, he slid it across the table, but held on to it when Tyson tried to take it.

Kai didn’t let go of the book, he looked into Tyson’s eyes, with his first genuine expression, “I have a question. About your design.”

“Huh?” Tyson looked up to Kai. He was positive there was nothing he could ask that he wouldn’t know himself.

“I want to buy it.”

“What?” Tyson’s voice rang with disbelief.

“Well, I don’t want to buy the rights. Just the design, so I can have it tattooed.”

“You want my design!?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

Tala’s ear twitched, the situation tickled his interest, and he made his way back to the counter.

“I uh—um.” Tyson was lost for words.

“How much?” Kai badgered him.

Tala intervened, “Kai leave the poor kid alone, let him think on it.”

Kai looked at Tyson, Tyson stared back.

Tyson let go of the book, “keep the book till tomorrow… I’ll think about what you said…”

Tyson backed up towards the door, “b—bye! See you tomorrow!”

He had left the shop faster than either of them could say bye.

Kai still held the sketchbook, he looked down at it. Tala was immediately furious.

“Kai Hiwatari, what the hell!? Are you an ass or head over heels? You’re going to bully some rookie artist into stealing his design? What is wrong with you—”

Kai had opened the book to his favourite page. Tala’s voice changed right away.

“Shit.”

Kai held the open book close to his chest, “I know. It’s well done.”

“You’re not kidding, here let me see—”

Kai handed him the book. Tala admired the drawing for a long time. Before flipping through the book. He let out a long high pitched whistle.

“Could you do it?” Kai asked.

“Do what?”

“Could you tattoo this for me? I want it on my right shoulder—”

Tala laughed, “no. My specialty lies in fangs and fur. I’ve never done a dragon, plus these scales… this could only be done by the original artist.”

Tala looked up from the book, “if you love this design, it has to be done by the original artist. Does he know how to use a gun?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Ah, shame.”

“How come?”

Tala went back to flipping through pages, “because I'd hire him on the spot.”

Kai was dumbfounded, “for real?”

“Absolutely.”

Dude I have so many more ideas for this AU it’s INSANE. AAAH but this is all I have time for now <3 if there’s a demand for more I might write more!

#sorry for accidently stealing ideas #it was just so good #if i continue it ill ask for permission i promise lol #tyka #ressyfaerie #ressyfaerie fic #au #tattoo

31 notes · View notes

be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years ago

Text

Blighted

For my precious Sunshine, @5-secondsofcolor's birthday!! Which is technically now, because it is 1 AM on the 20th of May and I am a mad woman. Love you and I hope you have an amazing day, when you see this of course.

Here is your fic, FBI/Behavior Analyst!Calum. Female OC.

Ivy says she's cursed after taking the same career path that took her father's life. Calum's new on the team, a liaison and media specialist, but he's looking to get his toes wet.

AKA your regular old jaded pessimist veteran and bright eyed rookie buddy cop story. Please enjoy!

CW: In depth descriptions of death/crime scenes. Depictions of violence, gore, and blood.

Enjoy my masterlist (on a haitus)

Search for more writing in the h writes tag

________________________

The whiteboard never leaves. It glows behind her closed eyelids. When staring down at the neck of a bottle, she sees it floating just as the bottom of her drink. She’s cursed. But she knew that the moment she tried out for the academy. The second the thought floated across her mind, she would be doomed just like her father. Ivy tried her best to reroute herself--she got into the arts, was first chair flute in her highschool’s orchestra. She was president of the Homecoming committees her junior and senior year, and worked during the summers at her church's camp.

And yet when she went into school for her degree, she gravitated towards psychology and criminal justice. She saw her mother’s fear. The closer it came to graduation and the more the two of them talked about what she would do after graduating, the more the thought lingered, I want to get into the Bureau like Dad. But she couldn’t utter that. She couldn’t say those words without tears welling up in her mother’s eyes.

Ivy suspected her mother always knew about the desires. Ivy didn’t remember all the nights clearly, but sometimes she’d peek out her bedroom door and see the glow of the light downstairs. Ivy followed it, side stepping the creaky fourth step from the top and from between the banister’s she’d find her dad sitting at the dining room table. The kitchen light glowed from behind him and his tie would barely hang on around his neck.

“Boo,” he’d say quietly, knowing the slight shuffle of Ivy’s feet.

“How’d you know I was there, Daddy?” she’d ask, carrying herself the rest of the way down the stairs and make her way through the living room to climb into his lap.

“I can hear your feet above me,” he’d respond, pointing above them.

And they’d spend an hour, sitting at the dining room table. Ivy asked about her dad’s latest trip. He only ever told her when she was young that they were helping save people, putting bad people away. Ivy wonders if this is where it started. If this was where her father casted the spell, leaving Ivy somehow starry eyed about what it really was he did. Ivy would always look at this job with a little bit of that hope that her younger self had, and she’d always be fucked to never be able to walk away from this line of work.

It would kill her--much like it had killed her dad. But unlike him, she’d see the bullet spiral out of the barrel. Her dad had her and her mother to get back too. It wasn’t a weakness. Ivy admired her father for sticking with his dreams and also making the hard calls to make sure his family knew he cared too. But the need to decide would always be a slight hindrance, would always be the key to living or dying in this line of work.

All that’s left of her father, besides the memories and a few of his old t-shirts that got remade into pillows, is the whiteboard she keeps at her desk. There’s a whiteboard for the entire team to use of course. But this whiteboard is the one that her father used in his office. The one where he made his notes, scribbles. The one she’d write notes to him in the bottom left corner that never disappeared until she wanted to replace the note with something new.

“Thomas, look alive, and enjoy.” The manilla folder hits her desk with a quiet thwack. Ivy blinks from the whiteboard up to her senior officer. Kennedy carries on, dropping folders on every desk and each one of them stands without needing any further prompting.

Kennedy’s been in the field for years. It was all over his face with the deep frown lines. His brow seemed permanently furrowed, as if he questioned every waking second. Ivy liked to tease he worried even about sleep. But no one could sink a decade and a half into this line of work and not come out on the other side with a healthy amount of suspicion.

“And where’s this new guy?” Kennedy asks, glancing over the office.

Ivy looks up from her copy of the file. She heard rumors of someone else coming by the office, assisting them occasionally on cases. But those rumors floated around weeks ago, long enough that she chalked it up to just that--rumors. It doesn’t shock her though. Things start at rumors often, and sometimes they come to fruition and sometimes they don’t. Ivy follows Kennedy’s eyeline and doesn’t spy any new faces.

“Want me to keep an eye out for any lost souls?” Ivy offers, glancing back up to Kennedy.

“Nah, I need your eyes on this one. Head up to the conference room and I’ll be there once he shows up.”

With a nod, Ivy closes the file. She swipes the whiteboard from her desk with a couple markers and heads up to the conference room. The rest of the team sat flipping through their files too, Jenkins sitting right near the front but moved down one seat. They’re not new, having been around for a couple years. But Ivy can tell their type--getting in chummy with the boss, trying too hard. They’re a good addition, but Ivy’s waiting for the day they take a hunch and it doesn’t lead to the results they want. A loss will show their true colors, how well they can handle being wrong sometimes. No one on the team is perfect, they’re all hedging bets. Ivy’s taken her lumps of hunches being made too late, or the wrong bets placed. They’re not often. No one likes them. But they happen.

Diaz, Russell, and Burke and scattered throughout the rest of the table. The three of them have been there longer than Ivy. But they all accepted her with open arms. Diaz and Burke were more muscular. They had the brains to match, but they came up the pipeline from their local PD departments and aren’t afraid to get into a tussle. More often than not, Ivy winds up pulling Burke from fights than she’d care to admit. Diaz’s much too big for Ivy to attempt physically restraining, so she referee’s those fights that he gets into.

Russell’s their man behind the screen. He was good at getting through the internet loops, figuring out how to sort databases for the information they need without so much red tape and delay. He preferred to stay behind the lines, but could handle a tussle. Ivy doesn’t count herself as the brains. But her gut had some sort of true north needle that, more often than not, was right. She could see patterns faster than most, could sniff the air after someone and assess how much she could and wanted to trust. Kennedy consulted her often. Whenever she felt like she had something, he’d hush the crowd for her to formulate the full thought. Kennedy didn’t always agree with her assessment, but had to listen to it. He needed to listen to it.

“Nope,” Russell huffs, shutting the folder. “Fucking hell. Kennedy told me it was rough, but I didn’t--I didn’t think it was this rough.”

Ivy settles in next to him sliding him a marker. She draws roughly a tic-tac-toe board. “It not getting easier for you is a good sign.”

Russell makes his first move, the marker squeaking just a little. Ivy follows up with hers. She knows if she makes it too obvious, too easy, Russell will forfeit the game. So she tries to play along, like she’s vying to win.

Russell places his second X though his hands shake just a hair. “Yeah, but compared to you guys, I feel like if someone took a gnarly enough shit it would make me queasy.”

“A bad enough shit could do that to anyone,” Diaz pipes in, his own folder still open but his forearms pressed down over the photographs. Russell’s been around the block, definitely seem some rough things, but has always had a softer view of the world. Still wants it to be good despite all the bad he’s seen.

Ivy places down her second O, noticing the pretty obvious wide open spot she left Russell but looks up to Diaz. “I think I heard through the grapevine you were on the losing end of one of those shits yesterday,” she teases.

Diaz reclines into his seat, his chest bouncing with his laughter. “All because of your cooking Thomas.”

“My cooking is not that bad,” she defends, the cap of her black marker pointing him out.

Burke snickers too with a shake of her head and opens her mouth to speak but the room fills with the voice of Kennedy. “Aren’t y’all old enough to be left alone not to talk about shit for five minutes?”

“Never too old to talk shit, sir,” Diaz returns, his smile lifting only half his face up. He’s a charmer, whenever they go out to bars out manage to get a moment’s peace not hounded by work, he never seems to be at a lack of folks coming up to him. He’s already got a girl, but with the hair that cascades always neatly placed and the dazzling bright grin, anyone could fall for it.

Kennedy huffs his laughter quickly and then shuffles deeper into the room. “We’ve got a new friend, so let’s play nice.” As Kennedy makes head way, Ivy notices the man behind him. He’s tall. The black dress pants and black dress shirt don’t hide everything beneath them, but Ivy’s not too shocked to see people who work in the field like that with some sort of muscular physique. There’s something about his face though--something about the way his brown eyes dart around the room and his smile never shows any teeth that something familiar tugs at her.

Kennedy goes around the table introducing Ivy first, then going to Russell, coming down to Jenkins, Diaz, and then Burke. Each one of them lifts a hand or nods at their name. “This here is Hood, Calum Hood. Joining us as a new liaison.”

Ivy’s no good with faces sometimes. But names she hardly ever forgets. Hood, she met him once a few years back at a lecture. Not that she did them often, but Kennedy got more face time. But he made sure to spread the love between the team. He asked her to tag along. Calum must’ve been in the crowd, had to be, and had to have asked a question because Kennedy told her to remember that name. And she had.

Kennedy continues on with something. Ivy suspects he’s warning Diaz to keep any hazy tactics to a minimum considering how much of a mess they’re walking into. Ivy nods once more at him, and then faces back to the whiteboard, the tap on her arm prompting her too. I’m a scaredy cat sure, but not dumb, it reads in Russell’s handwriting. She spies his X in the bottom corner, opposite of where he would’ve won.

“Pull up a seat, Hood. We’ll have more time for pleasantries once we’re up in the air. But I want everyone to at least be familiar with this case.”

“Yes, sir.” His voice is smooth, Ivy notes. A soft volume and accented but smoother than she would’ve pegged.

The team breaks down the file, recapping mostly what they’ve already read but Kennedy’s old fashioned this way, needing to make sure people have done their homework. It’s an extra step than completely necessary, but having the quick meetings has always made this team feel more like a second family. There’s always a common goal in mind for them and they’re always reminded of it. No matter what happens out in the field, they all want the same thing.

“We soar in forty-five minutes. So let’s hope wheels can turn in the air. Hood, I need you to keep in mind the local PD’s been taking a lot of heat for the last couple of months. So we don’t want to take too much star power, we’re only here to assist and whatever we can do to put the local’s good grace back onto that PD we need to.”

Not quite what she expected, though with his demeanor and looks, he’s sure to work a crowd or newsroom well. She’s sure he’ll be on the ground with them too.

“Understood,” he replies and with that, all of them push away from the table. “Agent Thomas,” Hood says, reaching out almost as if to touch her elbow but never actually do it. He continues to speak once she looks over to him. “I-I don’t know if you remember. But we met at a lecture a couple years back that you held with Agent Kennedy. And I just wanted to say that I’m excited to be here, working with you all.”

“Thomas, here, does not respond well to flattery. Trust, we’ve all tried,” Diaz laughs, clamping down on Hood’s shoulders.

“I appreciate it,” Ivy responds. “Glad to have a fresh mind on the team.” There’s no smile, at least, not one she’d give Russell, Burke, Diaz, or even Jenkins. But Calum watches her give another curt nod with a quick quirk of her lips, and then leave, stacking her file on top of the whiteboard.

“Don’t sweat it. She’s in work mode,” Diaz assures. “We get off the clock and she’s a hoot. But on the clock, it’s strictly business. I will warn you, Thomas will burn you.”

Calum’s left, watching Diaz, Burke, and Russell leave. Jenkins turned tail the second Kennedy got done. It’s not that he wants to mix business with pleasure. He’s just been studying Thomas, attending as many lectures that she gives as he can. She didn’t always go directly by the book, there was something about her method that used the evidence, used science, but also had some sort of intuition. Thomas just knew things and when attempting to quantify it, she didn’t always have the words for it. Calum just wants to see that in action, understand what it is about knowing that isn’t always present in the facts.

The plane ride is comfortable. Plenty of seats even though they squeak just a little. Calum watches Thomas sit and everyone seems to sit spread out from there, keeping her at some sort of center. “Mobile. They don’t mind the hustle,” Ivy starts.

“Crossing state lines is risky, especially after the escalation,” Burke interjects.

“But wouldn’t that be a reason for it? If all the crimes look different, enough crossing state lines might make the unsub feel confident, like they’re getting away with something.” The entire plane turns to look at him. Calum freezes for a moment. He knows better. He knows so much better than that. Fuck.

“Valid. But we shouldn’t settle. Travel might be part of their job. We’ve got a good cluster to possibly estimate a home base. Get comfortable, perfect the craft here and then spread out. But why come back? Local PD's hadn't quite connected anything, until the return. More families, found exactly the same. Even when they cross state lines, all points wind back to a specific geographical location,” Burke returns.

“Hood, you got the inside of the media. What does it look like?”

Thirty minutes of his forty five was making sure that he could at least nail down this run through. And it’s easy, even with the squeak of Ivy’s dry erase marker, to run down the media reports, what information has been released and what hasn’t been released. He makes note of what the team doesn’t want to get out and what they do want to keep available to the public.

All the while, Calum watches the way Ivy writes over her board, the squeak over and over on specific strokes. He wonders for a moment what she’s writing, what it is that she needs to keep written track of. But he doesn’t get a chance to fully flesh out that thought before he finishes his spill and Diaz cuts in. They’re fast, not quite settling on any one theory. More like compiling the possibilities, not wanting to eliminate things but ranking how plausible they all could be until the pieces click.

The first thing after the flight lands, they head for the precinct. The lead investigator greets them, and there’s no pause. They’re pulled into the frenzy, looking at boards. Calum tries to keep his head in the game, but he is watching Ivy. The way she settles in her chair, her marker always moving. He’s not even sure it’s words anymore, just a constant circular movement. Sure he’s here to help regulate media outlets, and he can do that in his sleep if local PD and media follow his instructions to a T.

But he needs an in, to show he’s more than just the new meat on the chopping block. He’s worth something. “Is the last crime scene still available?” Calum asks.

The room turns to him, well most of the room does. Ivy keeps circling, but she speaks. “The plan’s to go in ten minutes. Whatever’s got you preoccupied, leave it in your go bag.”

Kennedy chuckles, tapping at her foot. “Give the kid a break. He was buried in news coverage the second we got into the door. But Hood, shake the cobwebs. This isn’t your small town’s rodeo anymore. If you need to be caught up, ask. But if you’re going to be in the room, keep those ears open.”

A task easier said than done, but he nods, resting his elbows on his knees. God, they’re going to think I’m an idiot. The room goes back to its normal buzz, but Calum keeps his head buried in his hands.

“Talk to me. What are your theories?”

Calum lifts his head. Ivy’s closer now. He can see the black marks on her hand from where she’s held it up against the swirls and lettering. “Clearly I’m barely treading water here.”

“First day nerves, but you can shake it. You wanted to see the crime scene. Why?”

“Why there? We have indications that the unsub spent a lot of time there, even with the interruptions they've seemed to caused. They're still meticulous. I want to follow their steps. What did they do first? And why? What do they need from a crime scene before it’s done?”

“Good. But what else?”

“What-what do you mean what else?”

She smiles, much different than the first one. It shows her teeth, a bit of a twinkle in her eyes. “What else?”

He goes quiet, reclines back into the seat and closes his eyes for a second. What else? There’s a lot else. “I mean, the next obvious thing is why these victims? But besides that, how comfortable is this person? Do they feel a need to be rushed, fast, get-in-get-out or can they blend in? I have a hunch they can blend in. Maybe people even trust them. They are perfectly ordinary and in essence, they have to be in order for the fantasy to work. Detection means they have to get sloppy. Being sloppy’s not an option, so blending in it is.”

“Bring that to the crime scene.” Something taps his knee and Calum cracks open his eyes to see her, standing. Her whiteboard still gently rests against his knee. She’s not looking at him though. Her gaze is locked onto the board next to him, displaying the crime scene photos.

“What’s your secret?” Calum asks. He’s almost positive she didn’t hear him due to Ivy’s lack of prompt response. But then she turns to him.

“Secret?”

“Thomas, Hood, you comin’ or what?” Kennedy calls. “I can deal without Diaz, but I need you, Thomas.”

“I’ll remember that,” Diaz laughs as they walk through the glass doors of the precinct.

It’s not Calum’s first time at a crime scene. But the second Calum steps through the door a chill runs through him. The carpet and walls are still bloodstained. Everything about it the scene just feels wrong, makes Calum want to immediately step back out of the house.

“You feel that?” Burke asks. She continues on deeper into the house, slipping into her gloves.

“This is when Thomas says she’s too Black for all this and gets the hell out of dodge,” Diaz barks. He squats down to the blood on the carpet. Ivy’s already deep into the house, seemingly guided by a force unwillingly to let her go. She doesn’t respond verbally, just lifts her hand, the middle finger extended out in the general direction of Diaz.

And Calum is standing near the threshold of the door, trying to pinpoint why it feels so cold in a house in Texas in the middle of the summer. His hands feel sticky even inside the latex gloves. His first step is shaky but he stops next to Diaz. “There are drag marks from the blood,” Calum notes. “This isn’t where they were killed, just staged.”

“The unsub staged all the victims here in the living room. We know that. Pictures show the parents at the ends of the sofa, children in the middle, dog on the floor.”

“But there’s blood on the walls. We know the Dad’s 6’1,” Calum returns.

“And we don’t have forced entry. So, whoever is wreaking havoc isn’t threatening enough for someone not to answer the door.”

Calum turns to the sofa where the family was found. “It’s picturesque, poetic even. You’ve got a whole family right here, at your will. They knock on the door. It’s dusk, sun’s just starting to set.”

“They have a ruse that gets them inside. We already know they have to blend in with the community. So what can you use to get into a house? Who gets into a house without a problem?”

Diaz goes into the kitchen where in the case file it mentions when the family was finally discovered food was still out on the table. “The window doesn’t have to last long. But it has to be just right. All three families were either eating dinner, or just done with dinner. So why dinner time?” Diaz turns from the stove to face Calum.

“It’s when everyone is together. They’re not just going after a family, but very specific family dynamics. Which means both parents need to present, two kids seems to be a minimum.”

“What’s the average dinner time you’d say? With this job, I eat whenever I fucking can. But before this, excluding people like us, when is the average person sitting down to eat?”

“6, 6:30 I’d guess. That’s assuming the average person is working a job that calls it at 5PM. A town like this is either on the verge of collapsing or being bought out. So I assume a lot of people are traveling outside to the city for work, so the commute might be even later. But I wouldn’t hazard any guesses that our unsub’s just haphazardly picking houses.”

“No, no, you’re right, Hood,” Diaz states, walking over to the table. “I guess what I’m saying is the timing. No one hears anything. But our unsub’s using a gun. That’s not quiet. And there’s not a lot of city noise this far out. They’re spending hours in the house and somehow getting out undetected. But striking at dinner time, with the setting sun, means this person’s around outside the house. But no one’s noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

“Hunting seasons,” Calum returns. “No one really flinches at the sound of a gun shot because people are hunting year ‘round here.”

“And it seems like humans are on the menu.”

“An appetizing thought.”

******

Ivy’s not sure when the chill finally left over the course of the day but it returns when she walks into the precinct and sees the entire room in a frenzy. Kennedy spies her and it’s just a look. Not much different than his resting face, but somehow she knows with that slight arch in his eyebrow. Another family--while they were proding over photos the killer was already moving on, already in the midst of their attack.

And it shouldn’t shock her. Well, to be more accurate, it doesn’t shock her and maybe that’s the thing that scares her. “I’ve been doing this too damned long,” she mutters to herself. “Hood, you’re with me. Get the address and let’s see what that gut of yours cooks up.”

“How’d--Is Kennedy going to be okay with that? The call just came in a few minutes ago.”

“Get the address and tell me how you like your coffee,” Ivy says. Kennedy’s going to come to the scene anyway, but she doesn’t tell Calum that.

There’s not another word before Calum passes in front of her. “Cream and two sugars,” he answers as he goes.

“So Black, got it.”

Paused at the desk of a detective, he looks over his shoulder. “Cream and two sugars,” he re-emphasizes with a tiny smile and holding up two fingers. Police station coffee’s never the best, but it’s better than nothing. When on a case, time is also imperative and they take what they can. Ivy fixes Calum’s cup first, slipping a lid on and keeping the stirrer through the hole. She pours her cup with no additions.

“Not even creamer? Not one?” Calum questions.

“Takes too much time,” she returns. “Burke, you staying?”

“Yeah, Russell got those files over just before the call came in. Besides that crime scene’s bound to be crowded as all hell and I swear if I walk into another house and catch a chill after seven years of doing this job, I just might quit.”

The two ladies laugh. Ivy recovering first to respond, “I need you to keep me sane even though you’re just as much trouble as Diaz.”

“Which is why I’m going to say here, work with Russell. We’re going to need Hood back before the 5’oclock news. Whatever you find at the scene will help solidify our profile and we need it soon. We need the hands on this clock, because it’s ticking ahead of us.”

Ivy nods. It’s no fun being behind. “Kennedy, we’re moving or we’re dying.”

“I trust you. There’s something off about that last one that I want to walk through again.”

“Let’s rock and roll,” she says to Calum, handing him his cup of coffee. “Mr. Cream-and-Two-Sugars.”

The drive is relatively short, all thanks to Ivy’s lead foot. But they need to get there fast, while things are still fresh.

“Did you always want to do this?” Calum asks in the silence of their drive. The radio doesn’t even play. Ivy knew he had questions. He wore them on his face, brows furrowing anytime he was the slightest bit hesitant about something.

“I don’t think I had a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t have a choice? We’ve all got choices.”

“My dad worked with the FBI until it killed him. And I think about how he used to tell me it was his job to help put bad people in jail. And I believed him.”

“The bug bit you before you even had a fighting chance.”

Ivy nods, taking a quick glance to Calum. “But if I had a prettier face, I’d stick with liaison too.”

Calum huffs out his laughter. “I went the journalism route first, sue me. Besides, that’s you admitting you think I have a pretty face.”

“I forget faces—so don’t think too highly of it. And I’m probably old enough to be your mother. You attended some lectures, I remembered your name. How’d you convert?”

It’s silent for a moment and Calum contemplates her statement, old enough to be his mother. “Given that my mother has shared her fountain of youth with my sister and I, you might be shocked to know I’m nearing 30. And I converted because of you and your work under Kennedy and his old superior Rogers.”

“All the greats,” Ivy teases, but she doesn't sound impressed. More like tired, used to it.

“But you’re different.”

“Yeah, because somehow the Bureau hasn’t realized their mistake.”

“Mistake?” Calum asks around his sip of coffee.

“Kennedy’s going to retire soon. He's done 15 with our unit. Another ten prior to that climbing through the ranks. Then they’re going to have to find a replacement.”

“You say that like it won’t be you.”

“Because it won’t.”

“You’ve been with Kennedy for so long. He’s obviously going to recommend you, Ivy.”

“He can recommend but people higher up get the final word.”

The truck stops just in front of the house, and Calum knows the most logical thing to do is just focus on the case, walk the scene. Do his job. But he reaches across the console and wraps his fingers around hers for a second with a squeeze. “You’ll get it. They’d be dumb not to bring you to the head of this team.”

“There’s an altar or a shrine. It’s small.”

Calum pauses with his hand on the door. Ivy continues beside him. “Go to the eldest child’s bedroom. In a corner you’ll see the small shrine. Our unsub left one at the last house. And the house before, I’d bet. And this house too. That’s what Kennedy missed. What other cops missed too. Make sure you get it photographed. Besides, I’ve been doing this job too long and don’t know if I’d even want the added responsibility if they promoted me.”

“How’d we miss that?”

“We didn’t miss shit. We saw it when we needed to see it. We see things when we need them.” It's the way she says it, like she has to believe that makes Calum believe too.

The sight rocks Calum--he knew it wouldn’t be easy. But he didn’t know it’d hit him like this. The room spins, just a little. And his heart racing. Mostly because he can’t stand the thought that this could be someone he knows. These people weren’t anticipating their would be like this. And what does that even mean for him? What does his end look like?

“Hey, whoa. Whoa.” An arm comes around his waist and he follows the lead of whomever’s grabbed him.

“I’m okay,” he breathes out. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah, I’m a fudge brownie. It’s okay to not be alright in there.”

Calum rests against the side of the house and squats down just a little. His elbows hit his knees. His breath is heavy, falls from his open mouth almost like he’s going to vomit. But his stomach’s not churning anymore. Not with the fresh morning air hitting his lungs. “Fuck,” he breathes out again, eyes blurring just a little.

“But you’re okay. Take a breather.” Ivy’s shoes turn up in the dirt. "Get him a water, will ya? Hood, take a minute. It's alright. I'll be inside when you're ready." Calum just watches her go. It takes a moment for him to lift his head. It has to get easier. Or least he hopes it does. It takes him a minute, inhaling deeply before he stands up straight.

The rest of them processing the scene goes by in relative silence. Occasionally, Calum pipes in with an addition to their theory. Ivy hums in agreement. And it’s not until they step out and slip out of their gloves that Ivy says anything. “This is why I drink my coffee black.”

“I’m sorry. I really--I don’t know why this one got me.”

“It’s the kids. Kids are the worst.”

Calum looks up to the sky. There’s a few clouds, but not many. “The photos are bad, but in person is way different.”

Ivy watches Calum, the way it takes him a second to come back to earth it seems. “Don’t ask yourself if it gets easier.” When his gaze lands hers, she can see the furrowed brow again. The question drips off his face. “You’ll only disappoint yourself. And this job’s not for the weak of heart. For the people that can’t take some losses with the wins.”

“You said it yourself. You wanted to put the bad people away.”

“Eight year old me wants to believe it’s as easy as putting the monsters away. Thirty-one year old me knows for a fact what the losses are, who gets caught in the cross-fire. It’s not easy, not in the slightest.”

“Innocent lives do add up.”

“Which is why I try not to do math on the job. They all slip up. They all reach a point where their methods don’t satiate the need. They all make a fatal flaw and counting the unfortunate lives on the way to that will have you walking from the Bureau faster than you can blink.”

“So what makes you stay? If it’s all so fucking bad, what keeps you going?”

Ivy nods to the car, pulling the keys from her pocket. “We need to solidify our profile and you need to run press ASAP. But to answer your question, the thing that keeps me going is that fact that they do get caught eventually.”

******

Eventually seems to come up faster than Calum anticipates. He was sure it would take weeks. After getting back to the precinct more information in Russell’s digging found a connection between all the families, a Venn diagram that overlapped to their X on the map. Another couple of days and it all unravelled. It’s a blur, when he tries to think back to it, on the plane. The only grounding thing is when one of the children, a little girl about 6, pointed out the tattoos on his hands. In all this time, he was sure the tattoos would be a barrier to entry--they’d somehow put him in a place that others would think he was nothing but trouble. But somehow, despite the terror she had done through, that little girl liked his tattoos, found some sort of comfort in them.

When he told her they were for his parents, she smiled at him. She said she wanted one for her parents too and then asked if he had anymore and how old he was when he got them. All of which Calum was more than happy to answer while the medic checked over her. Her older brother came soon after, asking a few questions, but overall he was much quieter than his sister. Understandable for what was endured. In the end, Calum’s just glad he didn’t see them staged on a couch, bleeding out onto the cushions.

There’s a small bit of turbulence and the shakes cause Calum to open his eyes for a moment. Ivy’s seated across from him, whiteboard on her lap, headphones in her ears. A tic-tac-toe grid drawn across it in the middle, but in the corners are some swirls, a crude drawing of the shrine from the case. Calum leans forward and tugs on the board just a little. She lets it go without a fight and hands over the marker.

Calum makes an ‘X’ in the top left. “You said this job doesn’t get easier.” He looks up to see if Ivy can hear him and is relieved when she pops out one her headphones. She raises her brows like she wants him to continue with the thought. And Calum’s not even sure he should. Instead, he hands over the board back to her. If seeing death doesn’t get easier, then maybe it just means he gets better at it. Maybe it means that not being okay with death is a good motivator to keep down this path.

“The job doesn’t get easier. You’re still human. You still want a spouse and a kid. You might want two dogs and a cat. You might want that white picket fence one day. You’ll want to close your eyes and not see death. You’ll want to walk down the street and see humans as humans again. You’ll have nightmares. Don’t hide from it. Nothing’s wrong with you for wanting that. But we’re in a world now where we see the horrors--what’s on the other side of everything you wanted. It’s a liminal space and it’s heavy to wade through.”

“I just want to not freak like I did the other day. It’s not easy. But sometimes I fear that maybe I bit off more than I could chew.”

Their game of tic-tac-toe has been forgotten, placed in the seat next to Ivy as she leans forward in her seat. “You said you were converted because of me. What exactly about me was it?”

“You just know things. When you walk onto a scene, you have an air of knowing. How can you just pick up on it in a snap?”

“Well,” Ivy laughs, “if that’s the only reason you want in, I warn you to get out.”

“I want to help. I want to save people,” Calum adds on. But then it hits him. Maybe this wasn’t the business of saving people as much as it was stopping people. Sure, they prevent future murders, but that didn’t always negate for all the lives lost. But they did save that family today. He saved that little girl that wants tattoos like his. “I want to save people and I want to stop people as well,” he finally adds on.

“There will always be monsters in this world,” Ivy warns.

“And there will always be heroes.”

“Make no mistake, Calum. We don’t have capes. We don’t swoop in all the time at just the right moment. Sometimes we are late. Sometimes we’re reacting more than we are being proactive. Sometimes we fuck up.”

His heart stops for just a moment at the mention of his first name. He’s always Hood, or at least has always been Hood. Just like she’s always Thomas to the team. But she said his first name. Unmistakably so. “Did-did you just use my first name?”

“You used my first name, first.”

When had he done that? He didn’t recall, but he couldn’t combat it either.

“Look,” Ivy continues, “the fact remains. We will fail. We will make the wrong call, or the right call just by the skin of our teeth. We will walk down the wrong direction only to figure out, we know it’s the wrong one. We get it right. A lot more often, we get it right and we minimize the death count. But we’re human--you don’t have to take it on if you don’t want. You don’t have to suffer.”

“If I don’t suffer and win, then that little girl suffers and loses. Then the next person loses. And the next. Their suffering or mine--the choice is clear.”

Ivy studies Calum for a moment. She sees the resolve on his face. Just how much sacrificing himself is a no brainer for him. It was a no brainer for her too. But admittedly, she was cursed. Maybe Calum wasn’t. Maybe she could save him, even if she couldn’t save herself. But she wasn’t in the business of saving people, only stopping them.

“I can’t stop you, can I?” she asks.

“Stop me from what?”

“Stop you from killing yourself with this job.”

“If it’s killing you, then why don’t you leave?” His head cocks to the side, now intrigued by her honesty.

“It’s like you said, I got bit before I could escape. I’m cursed. Are you?”

The little girl flashes through his vision again, and his chest tightens for a second before the relief kicks in. He could chase that feeling, the knowledge that he saved someone, one person. And that he helped put away one more person causing harm. “I am now. Ruined--because even though I can’t save them all. I can save some. I can help keep some people safe. I don’t think there’s a better reward than that.”

With a nod, Ivy looks back to their game on the whiteboard. They would’ve tied, she can see it after where she placed her ‘O’. But she hands it back over to Calum. “Kennedy’s going to shit himself when he realizes he’s got too hard heads on his team.”

“You’ll shit yourself when you realize you’re inheriting the second hard-head on the team after Kennedy leaves.”

Ivy scoffs. Of course, Calum still believes in the shiny idea that hard work yields rewards. “And this is where I can still tell you’re new to this--the dreams are still shiny and ideal.”

“All the work you’ve invested, they’d be--”

Ivy interrupts him. “I know, they’d be dumb not to.”

��Then why do you keep saying it won’t happen?”

“I’d call my pessimism a curse. But at this point, I think it’s a personality trait and the truth.”

“And let me guess, this is why you take your coffee black too.”

Ivy winks at him before her smile takes over her face. “You know it.”

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood imagine #calum hood fic #calum hood 5sos #calum 5sos #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imaagine #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #fbi!calum #behavior analyst!calum #h writes #calum hood blurb #calum hood x oc

39 notes · View notes

eskalations · 4 years ago

Text

"I've always known that I was a big target for them - almost as big as Erwin himself - but I never thought they would go after my own daughter." Levi released a dark chuckle at this, closing his eyes in disbelief. 'I can't believe my stupidity. The Titans have cut down families before, I don't know what made me think that mine would be any different."

(Rivetra AU where Petra is a pediatric nurse and Levi is a single father)

Hello! Wow oh wow! I haven't written since August and this oneshot definitely made it more obvious. Originally it was only supposed to be about 5,000 words but it soon grew into the monster that it is now. Will it stay a oneshot forever? I don't know...but for now, it is what it is! Editing this was a nightmare, so I apologize for any missed mistakes, as well as my poor writing skills that have been underutilized for quite some time.

I hope regardless of that, you will still enjoy this! I just finished AOT and this couple's story absolutely gripped my heart. Here you go, Rivetra fandom!

As always, reviews are MUCH appreciated. So please be sure to tell me what you think!

Petra Ral was NOT having a good day.

While she had been a night nurse for several years now, her penchant for making rookie mistakes was almost as bad as it had been when she started. Upon crashing into bed at seven this morning, she had completely forgotten to set her alarm for later in the day. Hence, why she was running through the streets of Paradis like a madwoman.

Her co-workers were less than impressed with her dramatic entry onto the ward. Nanaba was glaring at her over the top of the counter, while Nifa bristled from beside the employee water tower.

"Really, Petra?" The spunky redhead commented in a low, disapproving tone - watching as the other ginger woman threw her bag down onto the floor beneath the desk and hurriedly began to punch in her time. "This oversleeping thing is getting pretty old, considering it's six in the afternoon, not six in the morning."

Petra held back a growl as she fumbled with her card, sticking it into the machine but not getting any response due to the shakiness of insertion. Finally, she heard a click and withdrew the parchment. With her heart still racing like mad after her dash up the stairs, she dropped in exhaustion into a vacant chair.

“You say that - “ Petra spoke for the first time since entering Paradis Hospital, her usual chipper voice hoarse from her ragged breathing. “ - but you’re not the one who worked a 12-hour shift yesterday. You were too busy working on that boyfriend of yours to even - "

“Shhhhhh!” Nifa’s face glowed scarlet as she shushed the young woman, her pale skin heating at the vulgar comment. Nanaba just laughed quietly at her friend’s embarrassment, turning her attention back to the file in front of her. All the nurses and doctors bustling about around the counter paid the girls no mind, used to the familiar banter between the three.

"Say what you want about Nifa's love life," Nanaba bristled, pulling out another form from the file in front of her for closer observation. The blonde's eyes cut towards Petra, disapproval evident in her tone. "But your the one who's late today. We had a pretty intense case come into the ward too from emergency."

“What?!” Petra yelped, her nurse’s instincts kicking in instantly at Nananba’s words. Despite her still heaving chest, the young woman sat up straighter to observe the report that was being handed over to her. “Is the child okay?”

"She's stable." Nanaba offered, turning back to the folder on her desk to grab a few more forms. "However, she's going to need to be watched closely throughout the night. The poor thing was stabbed and the blade had poison on it."

Petra wished she could act shocked, but she wasn’t. Paradis Hospital received several stab cases a day due to the gang violence in the area. The Titans certainly weren’t pulling any of their punches when it came to looting. Regardless of whether their victim was eight or eighty, they would steal from anyone with a bit of coin in their pocket.

Stabbings weren't super common on the pediatric ward, but common enough that all the staff who bustled about barely batted an eye at the thought of such an injury being treated on the floor.

"She's already been stitched up and the antidote for the poison has been administered - but, the emergency department sent her up here for monitoring, just in case she relapses," Nifa explained, now leaning over the counter to read the forms Nanaba still held in her hands. The blonde threw her an exasperated look.

“She’s not your patient, so stop being so damn nosy.”

"Well, I've never - " Nifa scoffed at the blonde's scathing tone, though Petra could hear the amusement behind it. "Sorry, for wanting to dedicate my life for the next 12-hours to a hot man with a nice - oh, I mean to a sweet little girl with a -"

"Nifa!" Petra exclaimed, catching on to what the young woman was implying. "Don't tell me you're trying to hit on a little girl's father while she's bedridden in the hospital! Have you no shame?"

“Not really!”

Even Nanaba laughed at Nifa's answer.

"Well, too bad for you, since you have a boyfriend." The blonde reminded her, to which the red-headed nurse simply stuck out her tongue. " - and Petra has been assigned to be her nurse."

“Me?” Petra had the gall to act surprised, but her friends simply rolled their eyes at her modest response.

“Oh please!" Nifa sighed, crossing her arms over the counter to once again lean closer to the girls on the other side. One of the older doctors, a man with grey hair and spectacles, eyed her disapprovingly as he passed. Nifa didn't even spare him a glance. "While you may be a notorious flake when it comes to arriving on time, it's no secret that they entrust you with the higher priority cases on the ward."

Nifa was right - it wasn't a secret. Since graduating at the top of her class in nursing school, she had always been highly respected for not only her knowledge but bedside manner, as well. Just last year, she had received an award for having the highest satisfaction rate on her floor. Now, if only she could show up to work on time…

“- he’s really short, but his eyes - wow!" Petra was brought back from her thoughts by Nifa's words. Nanaba was shaking her head as she wrote a note down in one of her patient files, trying to tune out the girl's excessive praise. "He's got that rough around the edges look, yet is put together and clean and - "

"I hate to cut you off in the middle of your fantasy - " Petra commented before standing and collecting the patient papers from the desk. "- but I have patients to take care of."

Nifa's mouth popped open in shock, her expression quickly turning to one of disbelief at the sight of Petra's teasing look.

“Says the girl who was LATE!”

Petra chuckled, shrugging her shoulders as she rushed off to her first patient's room, ready to begin her shift with newfound energy. Despite her exhaustion from the night before and the soreness in her limbs, she couldn't approach the job she loved with anything less than excitement and positivity.

Maybe it would be a good day after all.

Upon entering Heidi Ackerman's room twenty minutes later though, Petra was once again lamenting the horrible luck that seemed to be plaguing her during the past twenty-four hours.

It wasn't the child who was causing her such discomfort, but her father.

After having checked on and familiarizing herself with the low-risk patients she had been assigned, Petra finally decided to introduce herself to the latest Titan's stab victim that was residing on her ward. Checking the young girl's forms before entering the room, the nurse noticed that the child was due for a round of medication soon anyways.

‘Perfect,' Petra thought to herself while turning the knob of the door. 'If I take care of her medications now, I won’t have to return for another hour and then I can go check on - ‘

Petra's thoughts were interrupted by the sight that met her upon entry to the room.

Nifa wasn’t kidding - the guy was short. Like, really short.

Petra rarely met a male anywhere close to her height - so, the short stature of the figure that stood by the lone window of the room, instantly caught her attention.

The second thing that caught her attention? His looks.

While the man was certainly not attractive by societal standards, his piercing gaze was enough to stop any woman in her path. His eyes were grey and heavily hooded by pale white lids and beneath his stare, lay two dark bags that spoke of a restless nature. Despite the blatant signs of exhaustion, his dark hair lay near perfect across his forehead, the shaved lower half of it buzzed in an undercut fashion.

He was captivating and terrifying all at once.

“Oi, are you just going to stand there?”

His gravelly, low voice broke her from her analysis, jolting her back to reality as he shifted his posture to a more casual stance. Whereas he once stood rigid, he now placed a hand on his hip and schooled his features to resemble something more akin to indifference.

Realizing she had never responded, Petra suddenly jumped into action.

"Oh!" She smiled awkwardly, not quite feeling like her usual self. Typically, talking to patients and their families wasn't so difficult for her, but this guy was unlike her usual clientele. He practically exuded indifference and didn't look very interested in receiving an answer to what she had to assume was a rhetorical question - but Petra did not care. "Hello, my name's Petra Ral, I'll be the night nurse for Miss Heidi."

As if saying her name had reminded her of exactly why she was standing there in the first place, Petra turned her smiling face towards the bed, trying not to show her concern as her gaze fell on the small child.

Heidi Ackerman at five years old had experienced more pain in the past several hours than some adults would face in their entire lifetime. While the child's sweet features could still be seen over the top of the crisp white blankets, the pained lines of her forehead spoke of a quiet distress that had taken a hold of her and refused to let go.

Petra ached to go towards her - however, a snide remark from the man on the other side of the room had her pausing.

“You’re going to attend my child looking like that?” Disgust was evident in the man’s tone as he gave her a once over from top to bottom. “Ever heard of an iron?”

The young woman could feel her face go red at his comment, her eyes glancing down at the outfit she typically wore during her shift - a white nurses uniform, tights, and white slip-ons. The front of her outfit was pristine white - however, the bottom of her skirt had a set of small wrinkles. Petra went redder as she realized that in her confusion to get dressed after having slept in, she had picked up her uniform from the previous night that had been lying atop of the hamper.

Most people wouldn't even have noticed her slightly used uniform, but somehow this man had called her out on it, despite it only having had a few wrinkles of use embedded in the fabric.

Petra was furious. Of course, she wasn't going to show it, since she was a professional - but she couldn’t help but bite back, even if it was just a little.

“Yeah - well you aren’t looking too good either, so I guess we're even.”

The man cocked an eyebrow at her comment, before looking down at himself to see what she was talking about.

In Petra's defense, she hadn't actually looked at the man's clothes. When she had entered the room, she had been so distracted by his face, that she hadn't even gotten the opportunity. But, as he looked down at himself in search of the reason for her comment, Petra was able to give him a once over too. After examining his outfit of choice, Petra had to bite back a groan from the error of her comment.

He was dressed immaculately, wearing a dark brown leather jacket with a white shirt underneath and a pair of slender black jeans on the bottom. On his feet, were a pair of shiny, black combat boots that looked as though they had been polished that very morning.

However, the state of his clothes was not the reason Petra wanted the Earth to swallow her whole. It was the substance on the front of his shirt.

Blood.

“Tch," The man clicked his tongue, having caught sight of the dried, red blood covering his otherwise pristine white shirt. "I guess my child's blood isn't the best accessory to wear, huh?"

Fully embarrassed by her comment, Petra immediately stuck out her hands in defense, forms and all.

“Sir, I’m sorry. I truly didn’t mean - “

“I’m sure.” The words were said with such a quiet finality, that the woman felt her tongue grow heavy in her mouth. Not knowing what else to say, the room fell into an awkward silence that even Petra’s vivacious personality couldn’t conquer.

Perhaps, she had officially met her match.

The man continued to stare at her with his slate-gray eyes as the silence drug on - however, they were both interrupted from their thoughts by a quiet cough coming from the bed.

‘That’s right!’ Petra thought, a newfound energy taking hold of her as she returned her attention to the small patient residing in the bed. ‘She’s the reason I’m here.’

"Sorry, Miss Heidi!" Petra adopted her usual, chipper tone as she approached the child, already glancing at the chart that had been left on the wall at her side. While the form should have match the one she had been given, she wasn't one to cut corners, so she began to read over it to check for any additional information that could have been missed. "Your father and I are rudely neglecting you. Are you in any pain at the moment?"

While most children instantly brightened at the ginger's easygoing bedside manner - Heidi, much like her father, was not acting like a typical patient. Instead of answering, the small, dark-haired girl remained silent, glancing over at the woman with the same hooded gray eyes as her father.

Petra found the whole thing incredibly unnerving. To keep herself busy, she began to check the young girl's vitals. As she glanced over the numbers, she snuck a peek at her charge who still lay silent in the hospital bed.

Despite her lack of response to Petra's earlier question, the woman could see from the lines of distress on the girl's forehead that something was bothering her. She knew from the child's file that she had been slashed with a knife across the stomach and had been on the receiving end of an incredibly deadly poison. There probably wasn't much on her body that didn't hurt at this point.

Although she knew that the young girl must be in pain, the silence continued to grow as the two females in the room kept their gazes locked on the other.

Finally, Heidi turned to her father, who had been watching the scene unfold from his designated spot by the window. The girl's eyes shone with nothing short of fear as she appeared to silently communicate with her father. While the look on the poor child's features caused Petra's heart to clench, the man by the window merely bristled at his daughter's behavior.

"Stop trying to be tough, brat." His voice was rough, the edge in his tone similar to what it had been a minute ago. However, Petra was relieved to note a slight gentleness to his words that hadn't been present in their earlier conversation. "There's no reason to hide your pain if you're feeling any."

While the young nurse imagined any normal child would flinch at such words being thrown at them after having experienced such trauma - Heidi just blinked at her father's comment, almost as if pondering the meaning behind it.

Petra was about to jump in, having seen quite enough of the man's crass attitude towards his daughter, when the little girl finally spoke. Feebly, but with conviction.

“My stomach burns.”

Unlike her father's voice, Heidi had a sweet, slightly high-pitched voice, that would have had Petra cooing, had it not been for the current predicament the child was in.

“That’s to be expected.” The ginger responded understandingly, wanting the girl to know that she was someone she could trust over the next twelve hours. “What if I told you that I have some medicine that could make it feel better? Would you like that, Miss Heidi?”

Heidi hesitated for a moment, pulling the crisp white blanket up to her chin, almost acting like she was ashamed for having to take medicine. However, only a few beats passed before she nodded in response to the young woman's question.

"Perfect!" Petra's smile grew, the genuine kindness that typically radiated from her, shining from the depths of her chestnut eyes. "You're going to need a drink to help you wash down your pills - and I know they may taste a little nasty - so, how about I get you a juice to make it just a little bit better?"

As though a switch had been flipped, Heidi’s pale hands dropped the sheet covering the lower half of her face, revealing a tiny, rosebud mouth opened in shock. The dull gray of her eyes that had been so flat just a few moments ago, sparkled at the prospect of such a treat.

It made Petra’s heart clench once again.

The nurse was about to ask what flavor the girl wanted when her attention was drawn back to the man standing on the other side of the room. He had made a disapproving noise with his tongue as his daughter's face lit up at the thought of the sweet drink.

"Now you've done it." The man chuckled, though there was no real humor behind it. "This girl's favorite thing in the world is sweets. Now she's going to say she's in pain, just so she can get some juice."

“Sir,” Petra responded firmly, her once shining brown eyes hardening at such a careless statement. “I’m sorry, but after what she’s been through today, I think the least we could do is allow her to have some juice.”

The man shrugged his shoulders, raising his brows as though to tell her ‘do what you want’.

Which she would - gladly, in fact.

Turning back towards Heidi, who was now watching her father with a concerned expression, Petra attempted to redirect the girl’s attention.

"What flavor do you want?" That got Heidi's head swiveling back towards her. "I have cherry, grape, apple, orange, or watermelon."

“Uhhhh - “ Heidi pondered over her choices, looking up at the ceiling as though the answer would be there. After a few moments of thinking it over, the girl finally glanced back at the nurse waiting anxiously by her bedside. “I guess...cherry?”

“Excellent choice!” Petra agreed, readying herself to leave the room, but stopping dead in her tracks when hearing Heidi’s little voice again.

“Is that okay, Daddy?”

Petra watched as the little girl turned to her father, gauging his reaction for some kind of approval. The nurse waited with bated breath as the man simply stared back at the child, giving no indication of his approval either way.

Just when he was opening his mouth to give Heidi an answer - Petra jumped in, tired of witnessing the power dynamic in front of her.

“Your Daddy’s not the one drinking the juice, Heidi - so, I’m sure your choice is of no real consequence to him. Isn’t that right, Mr. Ackerman?”

There was a challenge in her tone, the words laced with borderline rudeness as she stared down the man across the room from her. Never in her life had she been so sharp with a patient nor a patient's family - however, she guessed there was no day like today. If she was going to get fired due to bad conduct, at least let it be because she stood up for a child who seemed to be in want of an advocate.

What reaction she was expecting to get from the man, she did not know - but it certainly wasn't a smirk.

He was smirking at her.

The silence stretched on for a few more seconds, the man's thin lips holding that frustrating smirk in place. He watched her as though waiting for what she was going to do next, but instead of shrinking under his gaze, she simply crossed her arms over her chest, ready to stand her ground.

Once the older Ackerman noticed Heidi’s head swiveling from side to side, watching their reactions, he released another tired, breathy chuckle.

“That’s right, Miss Ral.”

Petra hated to admit it - but, even after exiting the room, her legs continued to shake as she made her way down the hall. The trembles soon transferred into her hands as she poured the little girl a glass of cherry juice.

Upon re-entering the room, the first thing Petra noticed was that Mr. Ackerman had moved from what she thought was going to be his permanent spot in the room. He now stood by his daughter where she lay in her hospital bed, speaking quietly to her about something that the nurse couldn’t hear.

The second he saw her walk through the door, he quickly quieted - his lips returning to the thin line of indifference that she had become acquainted with, not too long ago. Choosing to ignore the strange atmosphere that settled over the room at such a blatant display of secrecy, Petra smiled brightly towards the child lying in the bed.

She was her priority.

“Alright, Miss Heidi!” Petra chirped happily, trying her best to return to the usual persona that she emulated while within the walls of the hospital. “Time for your medicine! If you could just sit up for me - “

The girl began to shift higher up in the bed, struggling to prop herself up against the pillows that lay behind her. Petra rushed to find somewhere to set the glass of juice down so that she could help her patient - however, she was beaten to it.

The girl's father placed his hands underneath her armpits, slowly pulling her back towards the head of the bed. After she was situated a little bit higher, he released his grip on her before tugging at the pillows to arrange them in a fashion that was more comfortable for her. Though he moved with purpose, his actions held a tenderness that Petra was surprised to see. If this was an unusual occurrence for Heidi, she certainly didn't show it on her tired, yet grateful features.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

The man grunted in response, patting his hand on the pillow behind her head one more time before moving his hands back to his pockets.

Petra’s brow rose in response to the uncharacteristic helpfulness she had just witnessed, but she tried to school her features in a way that didn’t show her surprise.

“Well - “ The woman cleared her throat, before handing the glass of juice over to the girl, to give herself time to retrieve the pills she had placed in the pocket at the front of her dress. “Hopefully, your pain will lessen after you take these.”

Heidi gave a shy nod at the woman’s words, looking warily at the pills. Noticing the child’s hesitance, the older Ackerman reached for the cup of juice in her shaking hands. With the movement of his arm, Petra watched as the cuff of his jacket slid up and over the skin of his wrist.

She couldn’t hide her surprise at what she saw branded there.

It was a ‘Wings of Freedom’ tattoo.

This man was a part of the Survey Corps.

It wasn’t that Petra had never interacted with an SC member before, it was just that they normally didn’t frequent this side of the hospital. Most of them didn’t have children and, even if they did, most of them wouldn’t have the opportunity to care for them properly.

It was no secret that of all the cities in Marley, Paradis was the one that had the biggest gang violence problem. Paradis was deemed as the headquarters for the infamous Titans gang, a group of thugs who were well-versed in politics and typically well-educated. One could never know that someone was a Titan, since they blended in so well to society.

There were rumors floating around that several larger corporations had Titans at the helm, working their way through the ranks in an attempt to have a better chance at being elected into political office. Their end goal was unclear - however, their violent acts and shady business dealings had escalated over the recent years.

Suddenly, businessmen who were in perfectly good health one day were turning up dead in a river the next. The same went for major political figures. Several big-name military men had been cut down in the streets and in their homes, to the point where the implications couldn't be ignored.

This was an all-out war.

Though Petra had been busy in nursing school at the time, she still vividly remembered Commander Erwin Smith’s case - since it had eventually led to the creation of the Survey Corps.

Erwin Smith had walked into his home one day after a long day of work, only to be attacked by a group of four masked Titans brandishing knives. While the Commander had lost an arm as a result of the poison on the blades that had come in contact with his arm, he was able to fight off all four assailants and come through the accident with a clear vision of what needed to be done.

This incident prompted the formation of the Survey Corps.

The Survey Corps was a group of former criminals who would have otherwise faced jail time or execution if they chose not to serve their government. The Commander's idea was that when it came to the Titans - one had to fight fire with fire. For him, the Survey Corps was his fire.

The men would be given a meager compensation in exchange for their loyalty, as well as a full pardon for the crimes they had committed in the past. All they had to do was promise their hearts to the cause.

Petra had always thought the venture sounded like a risky one. How could someone trust a criminal? If someone was willing to commit a crime once, wouldn’t they be willing to do it again? From what she had seen of the SC members who had been wheeled into the Emergency Room over the past few years, they looked more like thugs than the actual Titans themselves.

However, it appeared that that was the whole point.

The Survey Corps were used to obtain information about the Titans from the inside. To learn about the Titans, it seemed you had to act like one. Once inside, their goal was to negotiate deals with the underlings, who would then pass on the information to the SC in exchange for compensation. No surprise, though - these exchanges could turn deadly pretty quickly.

The young nurse couldn’t imagine how anyone could trust a criminal to infiltrate the enemy without the fear of them turning themselves - but from what she had heard, Commander Erwin Smith was a very good leader who kept a tight hold on all the men who worked under him.

Petra guessed as much since a good majority of them had small government-issued tracking devices located somewhere on their person - somewhere that they were unaware of, of course.

The woman had only ever seen an actual 'Wings of Freedom' tattoo once, and it was on the wrist of a body that was being rolled to the morgue past her in the hallway one day. The symbol was a sign of rank. Much like how the military operated, the Survey Corps themselves had a set of ranks that signaled a separation of powers within the group.

Only captains and the Commander himself were given the ‘honor’ of bearing the SC tattoo. The placement was purposeful, too - right on the wrist, where an opponent’s eyes would be drawn as they wielded their signature blades.

Suddenly, the behavior of the man made a lot more sense. He was a former thug - now, turned Captain of the Survey Corps.

The nature of Heidi’s injury also made a lot more sense now. She wasn’t victim to a few Titan pick-pockets on the street of Paradis. She was a victim to her father’s line of work.

She had been caught up in the crossfire.

"Miss Ral?" At the sound of the man's deep, gravelly voice, Petra looked up only to be met by a steely gray gaze. He had noticed where her eyes had fallen and had also deduced where her train of thought was drifting. "Are you ready to hand over the medicine?"

His tone was polite enough, not to alert Heidi to the mounting tension that seemed to build with every interaction the two adults had - but there was certainly an edge to it. He was pretty much daring her to ask questions.

Petra certainly was not taking the bait.

“Yes,” The woman responded, slowly. The smile that had fallen from her face at the sight of the man’s tattoo, returned as she warmly regarded her waiting patient. “Let’s get this over with!”

Neither father nor daughter caught the double meaning behind her words.

This shift could not go by fast enough.

After what she could only describe as ‘the longest 12-hour shift ever,’ Petra was ready to hit the sack and enjoy the next two days off.

It seemed like fate, though - had other plans.

"What?" The woman groaned as she pulled her time card out of the slot, her whine catching the attention of a few doctors passing by. Petra couldn't care less what they thought of her right now, she was exhausted - and the news Nanaba had given her was definitely less than welcome "There expediting Krista's maternity leave? Isn't she still like - I don't know - four months away from giving birth?!"

Nifa shook her head from her usual spot by the water tower, looking just about ready to fall over herself.

“Two months,” She reminded the frazzled ginger, chuckling at the groan her answer received. “It was bound to happen sooner or later with how faint she’s been - it just so happens that they made the call during a hospital-wide nursing shortage.”

Petra didn’t want to seem inconsiderate, but this news had really put a wrench in her plans - plans which had included nothing but cleaning and sleeping - but plans nonetheless! There were about a million other things she'd rather do than continue to cross paths with her patient's reticent father.

She had really thought that as the hours passed, his mood would perhaps lift and become a bit more pleasant - but no, things had only seemed to get worse.

While Heidi had slept most of the night, it was almost as if the dark-haired man was reluctant to close his eyes. No matter how many times Petra had walked in there over the past twelve hours, he never moved from his spot near the window. Even when Petra offered to help move the chair over closer to the wall so that he could see, he had glared at her as though she had outright insulted him.

Never had Petra felt so uncomfortable while tending to a patient and she had been doing this for years!

The worst instance of this was when she had gone to change Heidi's bandages over where her injury was. While she had tended to many injured patients before, she could feel a cold sweat breaking out along her hairline as she gently removed the bandages from the young girl's pale skin.

Every movement she made was subject to his intimidating glare - almost as though he was waiting to snap at her the second she made a wrong move. Though he was trying to hide it behind a wall of indifference, Petra could tell that he was on edge as she began to work on Heidi’s wound.

If one thing could be said, it was that Petra had never met a five-year-old quite like Heidi before. Though she remained silent for most of the night, the young woman could tell that she was highly intelligent and aware. Never before had she had a patient who was able to grit their teeth and fight their pain so well. Not even when her bandage got stuck on a small area of irritated skin did Heidi release a whimper.

Petra knew the whole process must have caused her a great deal of pain - however, like her father said, she was hellbent on acting tough.

It wasn’t until she got to the part of the cut that appeared to be the most severe that the child even happened to make a sound.

“Is that tender?” She had asked, but it was more of a formality. The lines of distress on the girl’s forehead told her all she needed to know. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

Heidi said nothing in response, but at her obvious signs of discomfort, her father shifted forward - hands still in his pockets, but his rigid posture showing that he wasn't nearly as indifferent as he tried to act.

Petra was suddenly aware of the man's eyes following the movements of her hands and - though she had done this in front of an audience many times - his attention made her more nervous than she had ever been before. Not only were his eyes watching her like a hawk's - but his body was also tilting forward , closer to her, to see exactly what she was doing.

Under such pressure, she panicked - something that was highly unlike her on a normal day.

With the man's eyes boring holes into her hands, her sweaty palms lost their grip on the bandage she had been trying to pull gently from the skin. Heidi's reaction was instantaneous.

While she had made little more than a whimper up to that point, when the bandage slipped from Petra's hand and the skin of her palm made contact with the stitches that lay over the girl's abdomen - a short, little whelp escaped from her lips at the pain.

If that didn’t have the nurse feeling bad enough, Heidi’s dad’s reaction almost had her crying.

While most parents would be understanding of such a small mistake - many not even realizing she had made one - because he had been watching her so closely, he had borne witness to her error. The shock on his face, expressed only by the raise of his brows and the slight opening of his mouth, soon morphed into something much more threatening - anger.

"Don't you know how to do your job?" The man seethed, glaring at her with the same eyes that had been watching her so closely moments before. While his voice was not loud, the quiet tone almost made it that much scarier. "Can't you see that your mistake has caused her pain?"

Petra didn’t know what else to do besides look at him like a gaping fish.

"Well - are you competent enough to continue your work, or should I request another nurse?"

“No sir,” The woman answered, quietly - in a sort of daze from the man’s unusual reaction. Though she thought he was going to argue some more with her - he instead leaned back against the wall next to Heidi’s bed and continued to watch her in silence, as though he hadn’t questioned her skill at all.

Petra rolled her shoulders back, steeling herself to do the same thing she had done a million times. She would not let this man get to her twice.

After apologizing to the small girl, who merely gave a meek nod in response, Petra finished removing the old bandage from her cut. Once the wound had been cleaned and rebandaged - the nurse hurriedly made herself scarce, barely giving the girl's father a second glance.

When she had left the room, her face had been flushed and she had felt as though she was going to cry - but after hearing the taunts from her friends at the desk, thinking she had had some kind of flirtation with her patient's father, she instead turned to the next room and prepared herself to tend to her other patients.

“Earth to Petra?” Nifa’s voice brought her back to the present, something she was grateful for. Though it had been a long shift, at least it was finally over. “So, are you going to cover Krista for the rest of the week?”

Petra groaned once again. She had forgotten why she had spaced out for so long in the first place - they wanted her to take on the night shift for an additional two days.

"Hey!" Nifa chirped, crossing the small distance that separated her from Petra, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "The good thing is you'll get almost a full week off if you finish all your hours now!"

"Yeah - " Petra agreed reluctantly, though her voice held little excitement. "But what good are hours off if I'm too exhausted to enjoy them?"

"All you do is clean, you neat freak! Don't act like it's going to spoil a hot date or something!"

Nanaba chuckled at Nifa's words, also reaching to pick up her card and clock out. "You know, she's not wrong."

Petra blushed at their goading. “How would you know?”

Both girls looked at her dubiously, their reaction causing Petra to blush an even deeper shade of red. Nifa shook her head, clucking her tongue in disappointment.

“I rest my case.”

“Oh, shove it!” Petra grabbed her bag from the floor, ready to leave the past 12-hour shift behind. “I’ll cover Krista’s damn shifts if it means I’ll get some time away from you weirdos next week.”

Nanaba rolled her eyes at Petra's dramatics, while Nifa simply laughed in response, also retrieving her bag from under the counter. Though both busied themselves by getting their stuff together to take home, neither missed the shameless smirk Petra sent over her shoulder.

“I guess this is the price one has to pay when they’ve been named the most satisfactory nurse on the ward.”

Now, this comment had both Nifa and Nanaba groaning, the girls rushing to catch up with Petra as she made her way to the stairwell.

The second day Petra was assigned to the Ackerman’s was just as strange as the first.

After getting a good 8-hour rest, the nurse entered the hospital with a renewed bounce in her step. The reason? She had pressed her uniform to perfection and had even pushed back her shoulder-length hair with a headband with not a hair out of place.

‘Let’s see what that man can find wrong with me now,’ Petra thought to herself as she clocked in for the day, only to be shocked by what she saw going on at Room 325 - Heidi Ackerman's room.

She could recognize the dark blue suits of the Military Police from a mile away.

Two men, one with long blonde hair and the other with a dark, crew cut, stood outside the girl's room, talking with Heidi's father. The men were speaking quietly to each other, the blonde one jotting down some notes onto a form he held in his hand.

It looked like a statement.

Not wanting to intrude, Petra double-checked Heidi's folder to make sure that she wasn't due for another dose of medication for another half an hour still. The day nurse had left several notes for the night nurse, describing the girl's progress. While she was still in a considerable amount of pain, her vitals had remained stable throughout the day. Now, the only thing they needed to worry about was the possibility of infection setting in at the sight of her would.

Petra made a mental note to remain extremely vigilant when it came to caring for the girl’s wound. The faster she healed, the faster she would be out of the ward.

'...and the faster her father could get the hell off of my floor.' Petra thought to herself, jotting down a few quick notes of her own, before closing the file and picking up the next.

By the time Petra arrived at Heidi's room, the MP's were long gone and the girl was sleeping peacefully in bed.

Upon entering the room with a glass of cherry juice already in hand, Petra braced herself for a rude comment or a deadly stare - but was surprised when she found that she was not on the receiving end of one.

Mr. Ackerman was still dressed in the same clothes he had worn the day before, his hair styled still to perfection, yet a bit greasier from the lack of a good washing. While his gaze was cold as ever as it moved from his daughter's slumbering form to the nurse as she entered the room, it wasn't nearly as intimidating as it had been before.

The man just looked tired.

Still, he stood by the lone window in the room, leaning against the ledge as if it was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Petra spared a glance towards the only chair in the room by Heidi's bedside and noticed that the pillow and blanket that she had left for him last night were still neatly folded and waiting to be used.

He had never slept. He had never even sat.

Petra's mouth popped open in surprise as she stood in the doorway, glass in hand. She wanted to say something but found that every time she tried to get the words out, they got stuck in her throat.

"Don't wake her up." It was the first words she had heard out of his mouth since entering, his tone as deep as it had been the day before, but weaker from lack of rest. He almost didn't look so much annoyed, as he did exasperated. "She's had a long few hours and was just now able to fall asleep."

At his request, Petra felt conflicted.

"It's time for her medicine." The woman insisted, talking quietly as she approached the girl's bedside, placing the glass of cherry red liquid onto the side table. "I'm worried that if she doesn't take it soon, she may wake up in pain."

The man considered her words, staring at her for a few moments before letting his gaze drop to the sleeping five-year-old in the hospital bed. The fact that he was even chewing over her statement had Petra reeling. While the day before, he had been questioning her methods - now he was actually taking her seriously.

The man sighed, pushing himself off from the wall he was leaning against.

“Could you wait twenty minutes?”

The words were spoken quietly, yet for the first time, they held no underlying rudeness. He seemed genuine in his request, his gray eyes boring into her's as he waited for an answer.

Petra was beginning to feel as though she was experiencing whiplash on the receiving end of his mood swings.

It was only in that moment, when he was making such direct eye contact with her, that she began to notice the slight shake of his stature, almost as though a short burst of chills were beginning to overcome his body. The sight was so strange, that Petra felt herself nodding at the man's request before she had even had a chance to think it over.

"Uh - " The young woman stuttered, trying desperately to find her voice. "I guess that would be alright?"

The man gave her a short nod of appreciation, his lips pressed in a thin line as he seemed to consider whether to say something else. Instead of asking any more questions though, he breezed past the young nurse and began to make his way to the door - something that caught Petra's attention, considering he had not left his daughter's room the entire time during her shift before.

"Wait!" She called out in surprise, though the volume of her voice surprised her. The man gave her a sharp look as he glanced over at the still slumbering child. After watching the rise and fall of her chest for a few long moments - he switched his gaze back to her, annoyance evident in the twist of his features.

And just like that, the same man from the day before was back.

"What?" He asked, as though it wasn't unusual for him to leave his daughter's room. In most cases, it wouldn't be strange for her patient's parents to leave their child unattended while they went to find some food or refreshments in the hospital, but this man had never done that before.

‘Maybe that’s why he wants her to stay asleep…’ Petra thought to herself, as she tried to think of what else she could say without sounding too nosy.

“Where are you going?”

Nice one, Ral.

The man scoffed, as though he believed her question didn't deserve an answer. Without responding, he turned back to the door and placed his shaking hand on the knob.

But Petra was surprised when, before leaving the room, he quietly called back over his shoulder.

“Would you mind keeping an eye on her for me, real quick? There’s something I need to do.”

Not waiting for her answer, the man was out the door before Petra's brain could even catch up to what he had been asking. However, when she realized what he had done, she found herself seething.

What did she look like - a babysitter?! She had other patients to be taking care of!

Though she knew that she had no real obligation to stay in Heidi’s room, there was something that had her sitting in the chair beside the bed, scooting the pillow and blankets out of the way to make herself more comfortable. She didn’t know what it was that kept her rooted in that spot, but she truly felt like she couldn’t leave the little girl.

A vision of the MP's quickly flashed through her mind.

It was that feeling of guilt that had her planted in the chair for the next twenty minutes - even though she had other patients to check on.

‘Oh well,’ Petra picked a piece of lint off the top sheet of the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Heidi’s small chest. ‘What are they gonna do? Fire me?’

Just as Petra was fantasizing about all the things she could do if her boss truly did fire her - Mr. Ackerman returned to the room.

The first thing the young ginger noticed about the man was that he held a large white bag in his hand - one that seemed to be from the hospital's gift shop. The second thing she noticed was that he held a mug of what looked like some kind of tea in his other hand.

The third thing she noticed was that he reeked of smoke. With this knowledge, Petra could feel her face heat up in annoyance.

Now the shaking of his body and hands made sense - he had been going through withdrawals.

“You left me in here to tend to your daughter while you went and had a smoke?” The nurse stood from her spot in the chair, quietly chastising the man as he walked through the door. “Don’t you know those things can kill you?”

After having gotten his fix of nicotine, the man was back to his usual pleasant self. Before Petra could even think of what else to say, his eyes flashed towards her in contempt.

"Don't you know how to mind your own business?"

At such a rude response, Petra threw caution to the wind, sick of the man's attitude. Not caring whether Heidi woke up at this point or not, she stormed over to the dark-haired man, pointing a single finger into his chest. At least the man had the nerve to look surprised.

“Listen here - “ Petra dug her finger further into his hard chest, the fabric of his white shirt wrinkling as she tapped him once more for good measure. “Your daughter is currently my patient, Mr. Ackerman. So yes, your health is a part of my business now. What I’d like to know is how you think you're going to take care of your child on nothing but cigarettes and tea? Did you even eat while you were gone?”

The man raised a brow at her tirade, still shocked at the fact that the small redhead had had the nerve to speak to him like that. He definitely wasn’t used to it.

"Well, did you?" She asked again, demanding an answer, sticking him in the chest with a finely manicured finger once more.

What the man did next, nearly floored the poor girl for what felt like the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours. He smirked.

That damn infuriating smirk again!

Before she could repeat her question, the Survey Corps member grabbed the finger that was currently poking his chest, pushing her hand down while the infuriating smirk on his face only grew bigger.

"No," He said simply, as though he had not a care in the world. Petra could tell by the challenge in his eyes that he was eagerly waiting to see how she would respond.

Almost as though it was a game to him. Well, Petra was perfectly ready to play.

Pulling her hand out of his hold, the woman crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at him as he continued to smirk down at her. While he had shaken her the day before, she had become familiar enough with him to know that he only seemed to respond positively to her when she was actively challenging him.

What was he - a masochist?

“Lucky for you I have a wide array of crackers to offer you.” Petra smiled sweetly, watching as the man’s brows rose at the sound of her tone. “What would your flavor of choice be - cheese or peanut butter?”

“Neither, I - ,”

“Oh!” She cut him off, tapping him once again on the chest, knowing that this seemed to annoy him greatly just a few moments ago. “I’m sorry but ‘neither’ doesn’t seem to be a flavor - try again!”

The man's brows rose even higher at her continued teasing. "What if I'm allergic to peanut butter and cheese?"

Petra was anticipating such an answer, her arms once again crossing over her chest as she puffed it out with pride, knowing that this was an argument she had already won. "Then I guess I get to pick your poison."

They stared at each other in silence, neither intending to back down. Finally, the older Ackerman broke.

The man chuckled. Not a pity chuckle, either - but a real, amused chuckle. Though it may have been quiet, Petra couldn't conceal the pride that swelled up in her chest at having broken through at least one of the man's self-made barriers.

They didn't call her the best nurse for nothing!

"Alright, alright…" He finally conceded, no longer chuckling - but still keeping that mysterious smirk on his face. "I'll eat something, but no crackers."

Petra’s brow rose at this. “Why not? Isn’t that the most universal snack there is?”

“They’re too messy.”

The woman had to stop herself from giggling at the look of annoyance that passed over the man’s face. It seemed they at least had one thing in common - Petra absolutely hated a mess.

“An apple?”

The man shrugged noncommittally. Petra took this as confirmation that the fruit would do.

“Daddy?”

The feeble call from the bed had both of the adults turning, their eyes falling on the once slumbering girl who still lay propped up against the pillows. Though she had only said one word, Petra could tell from the look on her face that she had been woken from her sleep by some kind of pain.

The girl’s father hummed in response, acknowledging that he had heard her. Not wasting a moment and with a new pep in his step from his smoke break, the Survey Corps member approached his daughter’s bedside, placing his tea down by the glass of juice that still lay on the bedside table.

It was when the girl glanced over at the juice and then at the door, that she noticed the short nurse who was also now standing in her room. Petra liked to imagine that the girl’s face had lit up a bit at the sight of her, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think that it was anything other than the prospect of juice that had her glowing.

Heidi, much like her father though, surprised her.

"Hi, Miss Petra," The girl said in that sweet tone of her, her words still shy, but definitely more confident than from the night before. "Is it time for my medicine?"

Petra smiled in encouragement, joining the girl’s father at the side of her bed. “Yes, it is. Are you in any pain?”

Once again, the child looked up at her father - but, instead of waiting for some kind of input from him, she turned back to the nurse and answered for herself.

“Just a little.”

While her answer was not nearly as descriptive as Petra would have liked, the woman knew that this was probably the best she was going to get out of the child. With a tough-as-nails father by her side, the little girl was never going to give a true indication of how she was truly feeling. To do so would be to admit defeat in her eyes.

It was sad to an extent, but having grown up with a single dad herself - something she was assuming based on the fact that Petra had yet to see a mother stop by for a visit to Heidi's room - she knew how important it was to show them that their little girls were strong enough to handle themselves.

Petra’s respect for the precocious five-year-old just continued to grow as she spent more time with her.

After the nurse had given the girl her pills and had made sure that they went down easily, she reviewed Heidi’s vitals one more time before promising to return in the next hour.

Before she could make it out the door though, she turned to face the girl’s father one last time.

“I’ll be bringing you an apple, Mr. Ackerman,” She called back to him, watching as his gaze drifted upwards to meet her’s. “- and I’ll be expecting you to eat it.”

“Levi.”

The response was so quick and unexpected that it had Petra quieting immediately. Seeing the look of confusion written across her face, one side of the man's mouth quirked up in a half-smile. He sighed, shaking his head before closing his eyes in exasperation.

When he opened them again, there was a softer look there than there had been before.

“My name’s Levi. Stop it with that Mr. Ackerman stuff.”

Even Heidi chuckled from her place in the bed at the sound of such a formal name for her father. Once Petra had collected her wits, she gave a short nod in response.

"Levi, then."

Without wasting another second, the woman turned from the room - shutting the door close with more force than what she had intended to.

Her face was burning as she walked away from the room - and for the first time since she had been assigned to the patient in Room 325 - it wasn't from shame.

It was nearly an hour and a half later that she was finally able to return to Heidi’s room to check on the girl. With an apple in hand, the woman pushed open the door quietly, just in case the little girl had happened to fall back asleep.

The scene that lay before her, had her pausing in the open doorway in wonder.

Levi Ackerman was sitting. Not only was he sitting, but he was reading - and from a children’s book, nonetheless!

The white bag from earlier lay at his feet, the contents of it having been removed. While it had been puffed up quite large only an hour before, it now sat deflated on the cold tile of the hospital floor. Petra couldn't imagine that a few children's books from the gift shop would make a bag look that full, and she was right to assume that.

The reason the bag had looked so full was currently resting in the happy little hands of one Miss Heidi Ackerman in the form of a very large, stuffed teddy bear.

"Then Mr. Owl asked Mr. Bear if he could borrow a few - ," Petra listened to the smooth voice of the man who had nearly made her cry the day before, no rudeness left in his tone as he read to a very captive audience.

"Daddy, why would he ask to borrow something that he could never give back?' Heidi asked from her hospital bed, fully engaged in the story. Whether it was consciously or not, she hugged her bear a little tighter to herself as she turned onto her side to regard her father.

The man gave her a small, patient smile. "It's an expression, Heidi. Mr. Owl is going to eat the carrots, of course - so I'm sure hoping he's not planning on regurgitating them and giving them back to Mr. Bear. Mr. Bear is letting Mr. Owl have something without the guarantee of ever receiving it back or something in return."

“Then it’s not borrowing.”

Her father shrugged, his eyes turning back to the page in front of him. "Not really, I guess."

Before the man could pick up where he'd left off - Heidi cut him off once more.

“Daddy, I don’t think owls actually eat carrots.”

“Are you going to let me finish the story, brat?” The man gazed at her over the top of the book, annoyance creeping into his tone after having been interrupted for the second time. “Or do I need to read from the dictionary in order to please you?”

While Petra had been shocked when he had referred to his daughter as "brat" the night before, she would have to be deaf to not hear the endearment that lay hidden in his tone. He said it so gently - as though it was meant as an affectionate tease more than an insult.

Heidi certainly wasn’t offended by it if her sweet little laugh was any indication of how she was feeling.

“Daddy!” She whined, hugging her bear even tighter. “No dictionary! I want animal stories!”

“Then sit back and enjoy the damn book, instead of overanalyzing everything.”

Heidi’s eyes widened in shock, her small mouth forming an ‘o’ at her father’s choice of words. “Daddy, you swore.”

The man twisted his lips, trying his best to hide his face behind the children's book that he held in his hands.

“I heard you! You’re going to have to put change in the swear jar at home!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Heidi smiled brightly at her father. "Nuh-uh, it's a deal! I'm going to be rich!"

“Heidi,” Levi raised one dark brow towards the girl, his tone darkening with warning as she continued to get louder. “You need to be quiet.”

At her father’s admonishment, the child’s face fell, her bright smile falling swiftly off her features. Petra made a movement to jump in - anything to bring that sweet expression back to the darling girl’s face - but was stopped by the man’s voice chiming in once again.

“ - and besides, you only have two dollars. That’s barely enough to call yourself rich.”

While most children would have balked at Levi's use of blunt humor, Heidi - who must have been used to it by now - began to giggle once more, the bright smile from just moments before, returning to her face. Petra was even surprised to find that the man was wearing one of his own now.

"It's almost enough to buy a chocolate bar." Heidi insisted as if the candy was the most precious thing in the world.

Petra had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from laughing out loud. From her spot in the doorway, the nurse's shoulders trembled in quiet amusement. This little girl was something else - and, from what she had seen over the past few minutes, so was her father.

"Now you see, Miss Ral?" The question had her pausing mid-shake, her amusement slowly fading now that she had been caught. "I told you sweets would be her downfall."

Petra could feel her cheeks heating up. She had just been caught eavesdropping - how unprofessional could she be?

Opening the door all the way, the woman stepped fully into the room, apple still in hand. While Heidi certainly seemed to quiet as the woman entered the room, the smile on her face did not fade.

While she had thought the older Ackerman would look at her in contempt for having the gall to eavesdrop on him, during what she would call a very intimate family moment, he instead looked over at her with a slight quirk in his brow.

“ - and eavesdropping will be yours.”

Without saying another word, the man placed the children’s book on top of the bedside table, where Petra could now see an entire stack had been laid. Next to it, a small cat plush sat, almost as though watching over the mountain of books that now stood beside it. Before the nurse could make any comments in regards to his gift shop purchases, the man stuck out his hand.

Petra just stared at him in confusion.

Levi gave her a less than impressed look. “My apple, Miss Ral?”

If Petra had thought her face had been burning before, it was nothing compared to now.

A few hours passed uneventfully in the pediatric ward. That was one thing Petra had always enjoyed about the night shift - there was a certain calm in the air that seemed to hang over the 3rd floor of the hospital. A child would cry out in pain, only to be shushed a few moments later by comfort or medicine - or a buzzer would go off, signaling that someone needed assistance.

Other than that, the ward pretty much always stayed quiet in the late night to early morning hours of the day and Room 325 was no exception to this.

Heidi was snoozing peacefully as Petra made her rounds once again to check on the girl. After having received her last dose of medication until morning, the girl had lost her battle against sleep. She had fought valiantly - wanting to stay up and continue listening to the stories being told by her father - but after several hours and retellings of the same stories over and over, she was finally out for the night.

While Petra hated to disturb the girl's sleep, it was pertinent that she clean her wound every few hours to keep the infection from setting in. Though the girl was already taking oral antibiotics, the nurse knew that it was better to be safe than sorry when it came to wounds.

In an attempt to be as stealthy as possible, Petra quietly entered the dimly lit room of Heidi Ackerman, careful not to make any noise as she closed the door behind her.

Giving her eyes time to adjust to the lack of lighting in the room, Petra squinted while looking over at the chair.

There sat Levi, bloody clothes and all, by his daughter's bed and still wide awake despite his obvious exhaustion. Petra had given up hours ago on telling him to get some sleep, learning quickly that even without an injured child the man was a terrible insomniac.

However, she couldn't help but be concerned when it came to the man's state of mind. How on earth was he supposed to tend to his child when he wasn't willing to rest himself?

"Oi, stop lurking in the doorway." A ragged voice called from the chair, his eyes never drifting from Heidi's face. Even without looking, he seemed to just know she was there. it must have been a Survey Corps thing. “She’s out for the night, so there’s no need to sneak around as if the smallest noise is going to wake her up.”

Petra blushed at the call-out, stepping fully into the dim light of the room, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to change her bandages."

The man grunted in acknowledgment, shrugging his shoulders. "It can't be helped. Several more hours of reading from 'Mr. Owl's Adventures' sounds like a decent penance to me."

Though Petra found herself chuckling at the man's dry wit, she couldn't help but notice the strain in his voice that spoke of some underlying guilt she was not privy to. Trying to lighten the mood, she moved closer to Heidi's bedside, bandages already in hand and a soft smile on her features.

"Count yourself lucky," The woman bristled, reaching into her pocket for a disinfectant wipe. "You could be changing dirty bandages and bedpans for the rest of the night. I think I would choose Mr. Owl over that, any day."

While she hadn't expected the man to laugh at her remark, she wasn't expecting him to sober so quickly either.

He watched as she placed the packet of disinfectant wipes down on the table, her hands moving to the bandages to ready them for placement. The night before, she had found his gaze unnerving - now, however, he seemed to be pondering her actions more than looking for something that she was doing wrong.

“Could you show me how to change her bandages?”

Petra couldn't hide the shock that flooded her features at the quiet request. The words were spoken so softly that she questioned whether she had even heard them.

“Huh?” She heard herself ask, pausing mid-action.

Levi's face held its usual passive expression - but, when Petra looked closely, she could see the skin of his neck turning red underneath the hairs of his undercut.

The man was blushing.

Petra had little time to be amazed before he was speaking again.

"I tried watching you last night and when the nurse did it this morning," The man confessed, his voice tight as though he felt ashamed for admitting it. "But I want to make sure I know how to do it right since I'm the one who's going to be doing it at home."

Suddenly, his attentiveness to her actions during her prior shift made a lot more sense.

While she had thought he had been watching her closely to see if she made any mistakes while changing Heidi's bandages, he was really just trying to learn how to do it himself. So the reason he must have been so grouchy when she had made that one mistake, was because he was frustrated not only with her but with himself for having to seek out someone's help.

Man, she had misjudged him terribly in that moment.

Knowing that it was hard for the man to admit he needed guidance - Petra gave him a small but encouraging smile.

"I can show you," The woman gestured for him to come closer to the bed so that he could see better. "This is the perfect time, actually since I'm going to be doing it really slow, so that we don't wake her."

Petra tried to calm the furious beating of her heart as the man rose from his chair and made his way over to her side. This was the closest she had ever been to him, even closer than when she had gotten up in his face earlier. From this vantage point, she could see the dark stubble that now lined his cheeks and the puffy bags that seemed to permanently reside under his eyes.

The man was starting to look a bit ragged. However, no amount of exhaustion could dull the look of determination in his eyes.

Petra took her time, carefully peeling back the bandages that sat across Heidi's abdomen. Levi watched closely as she worked her finger under the sticky material at a particularly irritated patch of skin. While Heidi mumbled a few incoherent words in her sleep and turned her head to the side in agitation, she remained unconscious as Petra continued to work on her wound.

The nurse quietly explained proper wound care, as she cleaned around the stitches that lay on the girl's stomach. Levi nodded in acknowledgment to each of her points, his steely gaze never leaving her hands.

The whole process took about ten minutes, much longer than usual, but Petra felt like it had taken a hundred years.

The man was just so close and it was distracting.

Despite being flustered by his proximity and rapt attention, Petra was able to successfully clean and re-bandage the wound.

She ripped the end of the last piece of tape needed for the girl's skin, gently patting it down with soft pressing motions. "So, that's all there is to it."

Levi nodded, the wheels in his head turning as he tried to internalize everything he had just seen.

It struck Petra as odd that he needed such guidance from her when his line of work surely included some bumps and nicks over time. Almost as if he could guess her train of thought, the man answered her unspoken question.

"I've had to treat my own wounds before," He admitted quietly, eyes glued to the area of Heidi's stomach where her injury lay. " - but I've never had to treat a child's. I just want to make sure I do it right."

Petra gave him a sympathetic smile, placing the roll of tape back on the table. "It really isn't that much different from dressing your own wounds."

Levi's eyes darkened at her words, his tone shifting. "It is different."

The young woman watched as the man's eyes drifted back up to Heidi's peaceful face, her small pink lips opened in an 'o' as little breaths escaped between them. From a hardened gaze, the Survey Corps member's eyes softened at the sight of his slumbering daughter.

“What happened?”

Petra didn't know what had come over her, but at the man's words and expression, she couldn't help but speak out of curiosity. While the girl's file had said she had been cut by a blade that had been laced with poison, it hadn't said any more than that. She figured that Heidi had been caught up in a crossfire, but she couldn't be too sure.

She wanted to know what had caused her patient so much pain - and she also wanted to know what it was that was causing the girl's father so much guilt.

Petra had not expected much in ways of a response, figuring that the man would tell her to mind her own business. She was surprised when, instead of snapping at her in anger, Levi sighed and crossed his arms over his chest in defeat. She could see his reluctance to share in the rigid way he stood, but could also see in the way he rolled his lips inwards, that there was a part of him that wanted to tell someone what happened.

"They broke into my home when it wasn't there." The man admitted quietly, a quick rush of breath leaving him as he resigned himself to share with Petra the details behind the incident. "Heidi knows not to open the door to strangers, so when they came knocking, she hid - but they knew she was there. They had been watching."

"The Titans?" Petra asked in a whisper. Levi nodded.

The man sighed, his eyes cutting back to his daughter’s face. “One of my men had heard through our line of communication that The Titans were planning on laying siege to my house - however, it had been kept under wraps for as long as possible to keep the plan from getting back to me.”

Levi's face darkened, his thin lips pressing together as his eyes took on a faraway look - like he was being transported back in time.

"Unlucky for them," The man continued, his tone growing terser as time went on. "I found out and was able to intercept the attack."

Petra watched as the man’s focus drew back to the present, his steely gaze never leaving his daughter. “But not before Heidi could get hurt.”

Levi ran a single hand through his hair, the action causing the arm of his jacket to rise and the ‘Wings of Freedom’ tattoo to be exposed.

"There were six of them at the house," Levi admitted, not even pausing when this information called forth a gasp from Petra. "I cut down every single one of them."

At the dark look on his face, the nurse could feel herself gulp in fear. The same intimidating man whom she had encountered the night before during her first shift was suddenly making an appearance once again. His behavior - however, made more sense now. He had been reticent and ready to snap, not just because his daughter had been injured, but because he had just murdered six men.

Petra also realized that the blood that lay splattered across the man’s white shirt was, more than likely, not just Heidi's. While the news had Petra suppressing a shiver, she didn't interrupt him as he continued with his story.

"When I realized the blade had been laced with poison, I rushed Heidi here." He glanced over at her now, his gaze watching her carefully as he analyzed her reaction. "Then a few hours later, we met you."

Petra didn't know what to say - half of her had expected the story to be something like that, but also half of her wishing it hadn't. She was outright conflicted.

"She had been alone?" She heard herself ask through the whooshing in her ears. Her head was spinning from all the new information.

Levi nodded. "I can't afford to send her anywhere. She's always alone."

Though Petra tried to hide her surprise, she couldn't conceal it quick enough for his all-seeing eyes.

"She has no mother." Levi admitted though Petra had deduced as much. "The woman dropped her off on my doorstep years ago without so much as a word - so I'm all she has."

"That's horrible." While it was an understatement, to be sure, it was all Petra could think of in response. At least it was able to draw a dry chuckle from the man.

“I guess you could say that.”

Not knowing how to dispel the tension that currently lay in the air, Petra turned to continue cleaning up the used bandages from the side table, disposing of them in the trash while she continued to think of what to say.

Noticing her unease, Levi sighed. "I didn't tell you all of this to make you feel awkward. You did ask, you know?"

"I don't feel awkward!" Petra insisted although she knew it was a fib. She rolled up the gauze that she had neglected to use while trying to choose her words carefully. "I'm just not sure what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," The man said, walking back around to the other side of the bed. His eyes drifted to the children's books that lay stacked on the side of the bed. "It's the ways things are and the way they will always be. All I can do is ensure that none of my decisions from here on out will infringe on her safety.'

Petra nodded. “I guess you're right.”

The room was quiet as Petra continued to bustle about. She fluffed Heidi's pillows a few more times, before reviewing the young girl's vitals. She didn't know what it was, but despite the tense atmosphere that lay heavy over the room, she really didn't want to leave.

No matter what she wanted though, she knew she had other patients to see.

Before she left, a thought came to her as she reached for the handle on the door. She remembered at the start of her shift that Levi had only taken leave of his daughter's room when Petra was guaranteed to be there and keep watch. The circumstance had Petra pausing.

Was that why he hadn’t bothered to go home and change yet?

Petra could see that the man needed a good shower and a fresh pair of clothes - but, after hearing about what happened, she highly doubted he was willing to leave the hospital while his daughter was still in such a vulnerable state.

She didn’t know what came over her, but suddenly she was speaking.

“I get off in a few hours. Do you want me to sit with Heidi while you go home and change?”

Her offer caused the man to turn his head, his eyes gazing at her warily. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know you probably need your rest.”

Petra shook her head. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing.”

"I couldn't -,"

"No offense," Petra finally said, her arms crossing over her chest in an act of defiance. " - but you are starting to look rough.”

This caused one side of the man’s mouth to quirk up. “I’m just now starting to? I thought surely when I walked in covered in blood yesterday that I looked about as rough as I could.”

“Well, then I guess you’ve been proven wrong.”

Levi shook his head. “I’m not leaving. Besides, I have nowhere to go. My home is a crime scene, remember?”

"You can use my apartment." The words had left Petra's mouth before she even had time to think. At the suggestion, she could feel her face heating up, but she continued speaking anyway. "Go at least take a shower - please."

This had the man's brows raising to his hairline.

"You would let a man who just murdered six people take a shower in your home?"

Petra shrugged. “Yeah, I mean as long as you promise not to mess with anything.”

“You’re damned crazy.”

"Yeah, maybe," Petra conceded, but her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. "But it's better than being stinky. I'm going to get a shirt from the lost and found for you to take. My shift is over in three hours, so try to at least get some rest before it's my turn to watch Heidi."

Without waiting for a response, Petra exited the room in a flurry of white fabric and frazzled nerves, missing the smirk that followed her actions as she hurriedly exited through the door.

- True to her word, Petra had returned to Heidi's room after clocking out. The woman handed the older Ackerman a piece of paper with her address, a key, and a plain white t-shirt - before practically pushing him out of the room.

Not allowing any chance of negotiation, Petra slammed the door behind him, fighting the urge to actually lock it.

Now fully awake, Heidi giggled at the sight of the young woman bossing her otherwise intimidating father around. The sound had Petra smiling, too. Though she was tired, she was looking forward to spending a bit of downtime with the girl.

During the hour and a half that Levi was gone, Petra learned many things about Miss Heidi Ackerman.

She was born in late September and couldn't wait for the Summer to be over so that she could finally be six. Her favorite thing to learn about was animals - hence, why her father always bought her stories with animal characters rather than humans. She had named the big teddy bear her father had gotten her, Felix, after a cat character with the same name that existed in one of the storybooks her dad had once read to her.

While it wasn’t new information, Petra was struck once again by how intelligent the little girl was.

Heidi shared with her the process of her daily routine - how she woke up in the morning to find a bowl of cereal already sitting ready for her at the table. Though her father was usually gone by this time, he always left a note telling her what time he would be home and reminded her to never open the door to strangers. After reading the note, she would do a few chores around the house - she loved sweeping - and even had her own little broom that matched her father's so that on the weekends they could clean the floors together.

While Petra imagined such an existence would be a sad one - being all alone in a house all day, especially, at such a young age - Heidi didn't seem particularly bothered by it.

"When Daddy gets home in the afternoon, he always cooks me something yummy for dinner," Heidi's voice held all the wonderment of a child, who was properly spoiled by her father. "Uncle Erwin even sometimes comes over and eats with us. He can toss me up in the air really high! Higher than Daddy!"

Petra found herself chuckling at this. “Oh, really?”

Heidi nodded excitedly, her cheeks flushed from the conversation and probably what was still a bit of residual pain. Despite this, she continued chatting as though she couldn't be bothered.

Petra felt her heart warm as the girl slowly began to open up more and more to her - remembering how quiet she had been during the first time she had attended to her.

It was as though the child that sat before her now was a completely different person from the one before. While she could probably blame some of that on the young girl's injury - a bigger portion of it was just that it probably took the girl time to warm up to people.

‘Much like her father,’ Petra supposed.

By the time Levi returned, both his daughter and the nurse were sat up in the hospital bed, the scene causing him to pause in the doorway.

Petra had sat herself behind Heidi, allowing the girl to lean back on her legs and chest in a reclining position. The nurse’s hands were working through the girl’s hair, her deft fingers twirling the long dark strands into a simple braid.

“I’ve always wanted a braid!” Heidi shared, squeezing her bear close to her chest. “I’m so excited! I hope it looks pretty.”

“Oh, it looks very pretty," Petra insisted, her light, chestnut eyes finally drifting towards the man that stood in the door. Her lips quirked up in a small smirk. "Doesn't it, Mr. Levi?"

Fighting the urge to groan at the use of mister before his name, the man closed the door to the hallway behind him before stepping fully into the room. "Oh yes - very pretty."

At his insistence, Heidi giggled - her little cheeks flushed now from the compliments.

Once the girl was situated back on her pillows - chatting with her bear about all the hairstyles she'd like to try to learn to do in the future - Petra turned to Heidi's dad, giving him a smile of appreciation.

Instead of wearing the t-shirt she had retrieved from him, he was wearing a dark blue one with the hospital logo that they sold in the gift shop. The woman had to smirk when she saw that.

"What are you - a germaphobe?" She couldn't help but ask, remembering the wary look he had had on his face when she had handed the used t-shirt over. Though she couldn't blame him, being very particular about things like that herself, she couldn't hold back a laugh.

Levi shrugged. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

They stood there for a few silent beats, the only sound between them being that of Heidi's quiet voice as she chatted to Felix, the teddy bear. Finally, Levi pulled his hand out of his pocket, her key shining in his hand.

Petra held out her hand to receive it.

"Thank you for your hospitality." The man drawled, placing the object in the middle of her palm, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips. "Your lodgings were adequate enough, I guess."

After having heard from Heidi herself in the past hour of how her dad was a self-proclaimed 'clean freak' - the woman was not surprised at such a comment. In fact, knowing what she did now, it made her quietly chuckle.

“I’m glad.”

Petra called over her shoulder to Heidi that she would be back on the night shift in just a few hours, the girl happily waved at her as the woman made her way to the door. Knowing that she only had one more 12-hour shift for the week, the young nurse moved with a slight bounce in her step.

The realization that she probably only had one more night to spend with Heidi and her father had her pausing though.

Shaking her head, she attempted to rid her mind of the thought. She wasn't one to get attached to her patients and she definitely wouldn't start now.

Still, there was something in her heart that tugged every time she thought of Heidi’s sweet little face. Not only that, but the tug worsened every time she thought of Levi’s.

‘I need some sleep,’ She lamented to herself as she continued her way down the stairs.

Yes, sleep was all she needed.

Upon arriving on the 3rd floor for her fourth shift of the week, but third with Heidi, Petra was surprised to see the one and only, Erwin Smith exiting the room of her favorite patient.

She guessed she shouldn't be surprised by the appearance of the blonde man - given how much Heidi talked about him - however, what did surprise her was the grave expression present on his features. While not one to fear the worst, the furrow between his brows and the thin line of his lips had her heart sinking, just a bit.

After confirming with the day nurse that nothing had changed in Heidi's condition, Petra was able to breathe easier. Apparently, in the last hour, Dr. Shadis had even cleared the girl to return home whenever she pleased - however, both the Commander and Levi had convinced the doctor to extend her hospital stay by one day.

The day nurse said she had no idea what the reasoning was behind it but Petra had a good idea.

‘My home is a crime scene.’ Levi had said earlier in response to her pressures for him to go home and shower. The truth of the matter was, Petra feared that neither Levi nor Heidi had anywhere to go.

With that in mind, she entered the girl's room for her first round of medication with a slight hesitance in her gait.

Whatever nerves she had been feeling though dissipated at the sight of Heidi's joyful face.

"Miss Petra!" The girl exclaimed from her place in bed, arms wrapped around her teddy bear and now a large monkey plushie too. "Look what Uncle Erwin brought me!"

The woman was about to respond when a sort of grumbling coming from the direction of the chair caught her attention. Levi had his chin in his hand, his eyes glaring at the plush kitty that still sat on the bedside table untouched. Petra could see a hint of jealousy in his actions.

Dare she call it - adorable?

Though his mutterings weren't all that caught the woman's attention. The man had a whole new change of clothes on, the hospital t-shirt now stuffed away in the white bag that lay by his feet.

The commander must have brought him an extra pair of clothes.

Realizing that she hadn't ever answered Heidi's cheer, Petra smiled at the child who lay in the hospital bed. "Well isn't that a lovely surprise?"

Heidi nodded excitedly, hugging her plushies closer to her. “I think I’m going to name him Beast.”

"That's a lovely name," The nurse agreed, laughing quietly as she watched the girl's father roll his eyes. Despite the current levity in the atmosphere, the woman knew she wasn't going to be able to keep her mouth shut much longer.

Placing the cup of juice she had brought with her down on the bedside table, she busied herself preparing Heidi’s medication as she thought of how to brooch the topic.

“So, I heard Heidi’s been cleared to return home?”

Levi was silent for a moment, but she soon heard a grunt behind her. “It would appear that way.”

“I heard Dr. Shadis approved her for one more night in our care?”

Levi hummed in response, not saying anything more as the woman continued to arrange the pills. Her hands paused as she got to Heidi’s sleep medication.

“Will you be staying with Commander Erwin?”

At her question, the man remained silent - watching as Petra assisted Heidi with taking her pills. Always a brave patient, the girl barely grimaced as the nasty medication tumbled down her throat. When it was all over, the five-year-old simply laid back on her pillows, picking up right where she left off with her two stuffed animals.

It took Levi so long to respond that Petra figured he wouldn't say anything more on the subject - however, his quiet answer came soon enough, a sort of bitterness in his tone.

"No, we can't," He spat out, a rare show of his old reticence shining through. Petra could tell that it wasn't directed at her, though - it was more so in response to the situation. "Erwin thinks it's a bad idea for us to stay with anyone who's a part of the Survey Corps. If they had my address, who's to say they don't have any others?"

Petra had guessed this was the case by the way Commander Erwin had looked upon leaving the room. It was the look of a man who was used to solving problems, who just couldn't seem to solve this one.

Levi continued, missing the pensive look that settled across Petra's features. "He's trying to find somewhere cheap that we could stay, but at the end of the day, the Corps don't receive much funding. I barely make enough to pay for the place we have now and I'm still going to have to pay for it until my lease is up."

“You don’t think you’ll be able to go back after everything is cleaned up?” Petra asked, the wheels still turning in her head. Levi released a dry chuckle at the suggestion.

"I'm not going to make the brat stay in a home where she was almost killed. I may be a monster, but even I have more compassion than that." He spoke quietly, aware that Heidi was still very much awake and able to hear their conversation.

"There's no one you could reach out to and stay with?"

Levi laughed bitterly, once again. "The only people I know are either a part of the Survey Corps or thugs themselves, my options are pretty slim."

Petra nodded, quietly mulling over his words.

After a few moments, she made the offer she had entered the room willing to make.

“Why don’t you stay with me?”

Levi's brows rose, a look of mild shock commanding his features. Feeling uneasy from his reaction, Petra began to ramble in order to fill the awkward silence.

“I mean -,” She cleared her throat, hating how the words had come out as a mere squeak. “You said my lodgings were adequate, right?”

"Well, yes. But -,"

"I certainly wouldn't mind it - and you wouldn't have to pay me rent or anything! All I would need is maybe a little bit of money for groceries since I barely have any - and - uh - and I'm barely home anyway since I work so much, so it would probably be just like living alone!" The words left Petra in a rush, her brain working faster than her mouth as she tried to convince him that this option wouldn't be so bad. "I'm a pretty clean person, so you wouldn't have to worry about -,"

“Could you shut your damn mouth for a second?!”

The low growl of his voice had Petra pausing mid-ramble, her mouth hanging open as the man in the chair cleared his throat, in an attempt to get emotions back under control.

When he spoke again, his tone was even, incredulity evident in his words. "You really expect me to accept such charity?"

Petra closed her mouth, shrugging meekly. “I mean, do you have any other options?”

"Yeah, the street." The nurse found herself rolling her eyes at his words.

"What happened to not allowing any danger to fall upon your daughter again?" Petra asked, remembering their conversation from before. While the man's eyes flashed in anger at her implication, the woman didn't stop there. "Do you really think the safest place for your daughter currently is on the streets?”

The man was silent again.

“I can’t pay you.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“I hate charity.”

"This isn't charity." Petra insisted, meeting his steely gaze with one of her own. "I'm honestly being selfish. I don't think I could sleep at night knowing that the two of you ended up on the streets when I could have helped.'

“Why would you do that for people you barely know?”

"I don't know," Petra answered, honestly - her eyes drifting to where Heidi lay still unaware of the serious conversation taking place next to her. "But something inside of me is telling me that it's the right thing to do."

Levi stared at her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"So you would offer up your home to two strangers just because your heart is telling you to?”

While his comment was snide, Petra refused to back down. "And you would offer up your life to a cause that will most likely get you killed in the end? It seems like neither of us is very responsible when it comes to where our hearts lie."

The man couldn’t argue with that.

The room descended into a suffocating silence for a few moments, before Levi spoke again.

"What about Heidi?" He asked. "She stays home alone all day. Are you okay with a child residing by themselves in your apartment?"

"Not really," Petra admitted, though she had already thought about this. "But my friend who lives down the hall runs a daycare out of her home. I'm sure if I explained the circumstances, she would be willing to make an exception and let Heidi stay with her when you or I can't be at home."

Levi sighed, realizing she had thought this out a lot more than he had expected. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“Nope.” Petra smiled brightly, knowing that he was close to admitting defeat.

The man looked once more towards his daughter, who was now rubbing her tired eyes as she tried to win the battle against sleep.

“Fine.” He begrudgingly agreed, refusing to make eye contact with the now ecstatic ginger.

"Perfect!" The woman nearly exclaimed with glee - however, she kept her reaction quiet, aware of the presence of Heidi who was almost in the throes of sleep. "Leave all the planning to me. Heidi was cleared to stay one more night - so, once I finish my shift, I'll go home and get everything prepared for her discharge tomorrow afternoon."

Levi nodded, still not exactly happy about the situation.

"Don't think you're going to be able to stand around and mope, either," Petra warned, pulling the blanket up higher on Heidi's chest, the girl finally losing the battle against her eyelids. "I'm doing this because I want to, so I won't have you feeling guilty.

Levi shook his head, a smirk appearing on his features. "You're crazy."

"Maybe," Petra shrugged.

After picking up the empty glass of juice from the girl's bedside, Petra decided to take her leave, ready to attend to her other patients.

Before leaving the room, she turned back towards Levi, still sat in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

"We're going to figure this out," Petra assured him as she exited the room, smiling as he turned his face towards her - a look of apprehension on his features. "You, me, and Heidi - it'll work, I promise."

Though his answering smirk was tired, Petra could see that maybe - just maybe - he was starting to believe her.

#levi ackerman #petra ral #rivetra #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #fanfiction #my fanfiction #rivetra au

32 notes · View notes