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floraltypes · 3 years

Note

lots of innocent and not so innocent touches

With Dwayne Pride if you wright for him if you don't just Gibbs please <3

who - leroy jethro gibbs x reader

an - i’m sorry! i haven’t seen ncis new orleans, so i probably couldn’t write dwayne very well … hope this is okay, for some reason i had trouble writing it :/

please continue to send in asks !!

unedited :/

Blankets surrounded your body, your leg ontop of another while light snores left your mouth. Hair was messed up and a hand was slowly moving to stroke your cheek. The curtains allowed peaks of the sunlight to peak through in your bedroom. A man lying beside you in his sweatpants and old tee.

The grey haired, older, man kept his eyes on your peacefully sleeping face, truly enjoying whatever dream you were imagining. He made no move to remove your leg from the top of his, but did make a move to place his fingers above your face, lightly pushing some stray baby hairs away.

A part of him silently cursed to himself, wishing that he had learned how to work his phone better, then being able to snap a photo of this calming moment for his own purposes.

Gibbs wouldn’t admit it to you, but these moments were more important to him than working on a boat, or the thrill after finally catching a bastard. There was something so domestic, so calming, with these times spent together. Time for him to think to himself, and also have the one he loves so much be so close.

Time to think about the past, and wonder how he got lucky enough for it to land here. Though, he may have lost a lot, and they would never be forgotten, he was grateful for another opportunity at pure happiness.

But his time to enjoy the peacefulness soon ended with a ring of a cellphone, causing you to stir a bit in your sleep. You eventually opened your eyes, staring up at the man who now had the hand that was formally on your face, resting on your chest.

“What’s that?” You questioned, trying to sit up and rub your eyes. “Can you get it?”

“It’s your cellphone,” He answered, missing the warmth of your leg, now having it be moved to lay on the mattress itself.

“Mmk,” You mumbled, reaching over to your side table and grabbing it. Flipping the screen up, you moved it to your ear. “L/n,” You tried to make your morning voice sound more as your own.

“If it isn’t little Y/n!” A cheerful voice spoke loudly on the other line. “Ya miss me?”

“No. What do you need?” You rolled your eyes, getting off of the bed, Gibbs eyes traveling your body as you walked to your dresser, picking out a outfit. “Mhm, okay,” You nodded to yourself. “I’ll be there, text me the address. Oh. Never mind then. Bye.”

Gibbs got out of the bed, going to stand beside you. He silently observed as you rolled your eyes once again, opening another drawer, he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest, a small kiss on the inside of your neck.

“Who’s that?”

“A old coworker.” You opened your underwear drawer, picking a pair for the day.

“Purple,” Gibbs commented, as you dropped the blue pair back into the others, reaching for the one he chose.

“Gosh, it’s like we really are married,” You laughed to yourself, looking back at his straight face. “Sorry, you would know too much about that. But that’s not my point, there is a dead marine there and that means we’ve got work.”

“You didn’t seem to happy to hear from him,” Gibbs unwrapped his arms as you moved to your closet, picking out a dress shirt.

“I wasn’t. He’s annoying and almost cost me my job at the time. But, it’s our job, we have to go, so grab your clothes in the bottom drawers,” You turned around and pointed at the dresser that held some of his items, now finding what you needed and beginning to change.

———————-

“If you are all interested to know… I spent the morning watching a old TV show airing about a classic comedic couple who travels the world with their adopted son,” Tony announced to no one in particular, sitting at his desk as the others sat at theirs.

Ziva had her arms crossed, leaning back in her chair a bit. McGee sat in his, rubbing his eyes and looking down at his phone.

“What did you do this morning, McGee?” Ziva looked over to McGee, watching as his eyebrows furrowed.

“Trying to work on my new writing.. but for my character, uh, Miranda, I need a good backstory for her, people are really grasping onto her character from the former story. I’ve read some things saying they think she’ll get with Gibbs, I mean Libbs!”

“Interesting,” Ziva tsked. “I read the story and your Miranda character, who is obviously Y/n, and I don’t see it.”

“You know nothing about romance, Ziva,” Tony waltzed over, his own coffee in hand and his face near hers. “I think no one expects you to think about who would get together. But, no, I don’t see Gibbs getting with someone like L/n who is very, you know-”

“I’m what, DiNozzo?” You walked in, moving straight to your desk as you placed your bag down.

“Amazing! I meant, you’re so great that someone like Gib-” Tony looked at Ziva’s eyes widen. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

“Someone like me, now what’s that, DiNozzo?” Gibbs questioned.

“Uh-” Gibbs smacked the back of DiNozzos head, moving over to his own desk.

“Dead sailor, body is already getting examined by Ducky and some visitors are coming to drop off some of the evidence.” Gibbs informed everyone.

“They think this sailor had something to do with a past robbery and murder, a cold case,” You clarified.

“L/n!” A guy smiled widely, another girl following in pursuit behind him as he walked to you with his arms wide open. “It’s been too long,” He quickly hugged you, tightening his grip around your shoulders and moving his hands to cup your face. “You still look as beautiful as ever!”

“Y/n, is that your boyfriend?” Ziva inquired.

“He looks a little out of her leagu-” You shot DiNozzo a look. “Or not?”

“Ah no,” The man laughed. “Old coworkers, that is Lila and I’m Carson, nice to meet you guys.”

“If your old coworkers, you must have a ton of embarrassing stories about Y/n!” DiNozzo beamed, moving closer to Carson.

“Uh, a few,” He responded. “We only worked together for a year or two, some, but not a ton.”

“Some will do.”

“DiNozzo, we aren’t here to make friends we are here to solve a murder,” Gibbs shot him a look and hit the back of his head.

“Right, sorry, boss.” DiNozzo put his head down like a sad puppy dog and made his way back to his desk. The two visitors looked at the scene that had just happened oddly.

“We brought all of our evidence, not much, but something,” Lila announced, placing the box on the table now and taking some of it out. “Should we get started?”

“I’ll show you to Abby, she is our forensic analysts and will probably want to take a look at this stuff for herself,” McGee told Lila, putting the evidence back in the box and letting her grab it, soon walking towards the elevator.

“You think I could check out the body?” Carson asked you. “It might be good to see what he looked like more and talk with your doctor.”

“That makes sense, I’ll show you to him,” You smiled at your old coworker and took another way to Ducky’s area.

The both of you chatted on the way down, catching up with how things differ since you worked there and a bit about your new workplace here.

“I really thought you would be Jeremy, the one who called me. I was a bit worried,” You laughed, walking into Autopsy with Carson as Ducky moved near you.

“Hello, dear, who’s this?” Ducky questioned, Jimmy moved near his boss.

“Hey, Ducky, this is Carson. Carson, this is Doctor Mallard. He is a old coworker of mine, Ducky,” You told the older man. “That’s Jimmy, he is Ducky’s assistant.”

Ducky began to explain how the man had died, pointing out various things on the body and even putting in a few past experiences of his own into the conversation.

Soon the four of you had heard the doors open, turning around to catch the view of your boyfriend entering into the room and moving to stand right in between you and Carson.

“I just want to hear some of the explanation myself, you can continue, Ducky,” Gibbs commented, all of your eyes turning back onto Ducky who was back to talking.

You felt a warm, larger hand travel to the middle of your back, a thumb softly pressing into the fabric that covered your skin. You turned your head slightly to make eye contact with Gibbs, but he just continued to stare forward ignoring it.

It was like a goosebump went up your spine, yet it wasn’t not encouraged. It was a bit of a energetic feeling, so you rejoiced in the innocent touch, a sign he was there.

Eventually, Ducky was done with his long explanation and you were back to heading upstairs with Carson and Gibbs to do more research regarding the deadman and cold case.

“So, Y/n, I was thinking we could go out to lunch or something soon to really catch up, outside of work,” Carson mentioned while you three were on the elevator ride up.

You were surprised at his somewhat boldness to announce this in front of your boss (and boyfriend), but he was always a very open person, kind and open.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” You replied.

“We are busy most afternoons.” Gibbs added. “So, if you plan it at some ridiculous time don’t expect my agent to be able to make it.”

The doors soon chimed open and Carson quickly left, making a bee line straight to Lila. Gibbs let you leave first, placing another palm against your back to secretly lead you back to where the desks were, even though you knew where you were going.

———————

The rest of the day was spent with much more working diligently. You all had made some progress but not enough, and you could tell it was really getting to Gibbs. He dismissed everyone and told them to come back in the early hours in the morning.

Gibbs had told you that he was going to stay and work on this some more, so you told him you would stay as well and order some food. Once Carson had heard that, he decided that he would do the same.

A hour later, three burgers arrive and you hand them out to the two other men, soon taking a bite into yours. A bit of the condiment had spewed onto the corners of your mouth, but your hunger caught up with you, continuing to avoid the feeling for a moment and just eat.

Carson caught the look of your messiness, breaking off into a small laugh, and you joining, him then making a joke about how this used to be a regular for you. Gibbs got up from his seat with a napkin and bent over a bit to wipe it away from your mouth.

It was certainly a small gesture, but had caught you and Carson off guard, the both of you quieting. You just stared back at him while he continued to eat with a pride grin on his lips, looking over the papers.

It seemed like a blessing from the sky when Gibbs had finally connected the pieces. Everyone was called back in to look over what he found and to excite a plan on how to continue. You all were able to get the murderer into custody and with old evidence and Ducky’s help you were able to identify he was the killer. With Abby’s help you were able to put him at the scene where your old coworkers cold case took place.

It was a relieving feeling that the case was solved and over. It was easy to tell that your current coworkers were also happy with the fact that your old ones were leaving for good. Having unfamiliar people in a familiar place is always a weird feeling for everyone.

You watched as everyone packed up their things to head home from the tiring few days of work. Standing up, you grabbed your bag and moved to Gibbs desk, chatting with him until Carson came over.

“It was nice working with you again,” He commented, you turned around to face him.

“It was. We make a good team.”

“We really do. I was wondering about that, uh, date?”

“Hm,” That had slipped your mind, and almost did once more when you felt a brush of a hand against your bottom, turning around to make eyes at your boyfriend. “Sorry, I actually have a boyfriend. But if you mean the lunch date to catch up, then I’d love to.”

“The second one,” He nodded, his cheeks brightening a bit at the dejection but also confirmation.

“Great,” You grinned, writing down your phone number and handing it to him. “Talk soon, bye.”

“Goodbye.”

You watched as Carson entered the elevator and soon disappeared, the office area looking very empty with the lights darkened a bit and only you and Gibbs being in the area.

“Glad he’s gone,” Gibbs laughed.

“I figured,” You laughed alongside with him. “I could tell by your touchiness at work, are you trying to let everyone know?”

“If I was, I would do something bolder. Didn’t Ducky ever tell you I used to be like DiNozzo?”

“Yeah, that would be a interesting time to see.”

“I think if I was that same man, we might’ve had sex right o-”

“Let’s get home, now,” You both soon left the workplace, hand in hand, laughing along at stories of the younger Gibbs and his flirty persona.

#gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #leroy x reader #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #ncis fanfiction #ncis fic #ncis x reader #ncis #ncis reader insert #gibbs x y/n #gibbs x you #gibbs #anthony dinozzo #ducky mallard #abby sciuto #timothy mcgee #ziva david #jimmy palmer

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Text

Prima materia

Yandere!Kaeya & Yandere!Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 4156

CW: Yandere themes, mentions of violence, death and NSFW

An angel.

That’s what Kaeya thinks when he sees you - he’s far from being a religious person, yet this word appears in his mind, vivid and burning, pushing out any other thought away. He stands here, starstruck and unsure what to do, devouring your visage with his eye alone.

Your first meeting is incidental - he walks around the Mondstadt, looking for the leads for the recent mass disappearance case. An alarming number of people went missing right before the Windrise festival. All are destitute alcoholics with no real importance, all except one - Javier Lawrence, who in this case is a rich alcoholic, and a reason why investigation even started. Mondstadt may be a nation of freedom, yet money and status still dominate most of its social dynamics.

Kaeya goes to Eula first - Javier was her twice removed cousin after all, she ought to know something. The spindrift knight is restrained in her speech, careful not to insult her missing relative, despite the deepening frown. She says almost nothing new, stating that Javier had a passion for drinking and wasting his days away, she also mentions his favourite places to wander while drunk - gardens, plaza and the forest outside the city.

Visits to the first two bear no fruits - Kaeya doesn’t find any eyewitnesses, but hears tons upon the tons of complaints and insults directed at the missing, so he heads for the forest, expecting to find the mangled body among the heaps of green leaves - being drunk in the forest deep is never a good idea, yet he finds none. He stumbles upon you instead.

You sit among the wild flowers and bitter herbs, head bowed, closely inspecting the plants in your hands and humming a light tune as you do so. There’s a certain serenity about you, some kind of magical elegance radiating off of every movement, it’s deliberate, yet relaxed. You remind him of the forest nymph from the paintings he saw - celestial and seductive, and totally unaware of the effect you have on him.

This feeling is further exacerbated by the simple white shirt you're wearing - the material is thin and half-transparent, already revealing the outline of your torso. Kaeya gulps when he imagines it getting wet and clinging to your body, your skin and nipples showing through the flimsy fabric. The only thing that spoils this otherwise perfect sight are small dark bruises both hands, blooming like two ominous roses.

“Hello”, he finally suppresses lustful urges and steps closer, distracting you from the herb picking. “My name’s Kaeya Alberich, I am the cavalry captain of the Knight of Favonius, and I want you to answer a couple of my questions”.

You turn unnaturally still upon hearing his voice, hands squeezing the plants, even your breathing is impossible to hear. You are terrified. Kaeya turns his head to the side at this picture, eyebrows raised - this is… a very interesting reaction.

“I am sorry, I am not allowed to talk to strangers”, you say, finally collecting yourself and raising your head to meet his eye, and Kaeya finds himself struck again.

Stars.

You have star-shaped pupils. Just like him.

He makes a step again, back this time, as his chest starts to rise and fall faster, breathing accelerating. Why do you have these eyes? He thought he was the only one left…

“Sir Kaeya, what brings you here?”he hears a familiar voice. Albedo comes from the forest deep, quickly striding to him and then stopping between you and the cavalry captain. Alchemist's face remains indifferent and his tone impassive, yet through the haze of confusion and shock Kaeya still notes how he protectively put himself between you two, as if shielding you from his gaze.

“Investigation. I thought asking… this lovely person a couple of questions might help solve the case”, he flashes one of his most charming smiles to Albedo, who predictably remains apathetic towards such displays. You, on the other hand, still sit on the forest ground and have your eyes shifting between Kaeya and Albedo, with fear and hope respectively.

“I am afraid you won’t find any answers here. They are under my care, and they don’t know anything about whatever your case is”. Albedo’s voice still remains polite, but Kaeya can taste the hidden hostility, he almost backs off from surprise.

“Well, that’s unfortunate”, he admits defeat and puts on a smile again - it’s a colder one this time, less genuine - and turns on his heels, throwing “have a nice day” as the afterthought, insides burning with the strange mix of disappointment and resentment.

He almost leaves the forest, as he hears Albedo talking to you: “It’s alright, [First], I won't punish you for speaking to him, he asked you first”. You reply something, but Kaeya is too far to make out any of your lovely voice, yet the things he witnessed today are enough to spawn a horde of questions.

Why does Albedo act so possessive? Why do you allow him to do so? What connects you two together? And most importantly: Who are you?

Thousand different theories fleet through his mind, as he mulls over new information. He doesn’t come back to that place, despite his curiosity nagging him to do so, he can’t - Kaeya is now acutely aware of the power Albedo seems to hold over you and returning might anger the alchemist.

Cavalry captain returns to the case of missing people, yet his mind continues to wander off, thought returning to your face and voice and body and the colossal mystery cloaking you.

***

Investigation progresses unbelievably slowly - if he was a gullible person, Kaeya would’ve thought that all of the missing just vanished into thin air - no leads, no traces, not a single clue of what might have happened, leaving the knights with nothing but straws to grasp at. To add to the severity of the situation after a week of receiving the case from Jean, Kaeya is notified about the new disappearance of two other people - Joachim and Luckas. They’re also a pair of alcoholics, the first one was last seen around the Angel’s Share, the second one was heading for the Dragonspine.

Kaeya goes to the said tavern - at first he just talks with the patrons, effortlessly fishing out the information about the missing person, which brings nothing new (again), then he gets a bit bored with drunk-interrogating others and decides to ask Diluc what he might’ve seen. And that also reveals nothing new (again) - Joachim has visited the tavern, ordered some wine and after a couple of bottles downed, left. Nothing extraordinary or groundbreaking, just a day of another Mondstadtian drunkard.

It seems that he isn’t destined to find whatever spirited Joachim away, so Kaeya leaves the city heading for the snowy mountain in the distance. He asks around the adventurers camp near the ruined tower, only to hear that Luckas was seen around the mountain.

Kaeya walks to the Dragonspine, already feeling the chill at the foot of the mountain, and his determination slowly melts - Dragonspine is one big freezing hellhole, full of monsters and Fatuis who for some reason decided to reside here, yet one particular face appears in his mind. Seeing you again might be worth the whole trouble - he noticed you a couple of times, always in the company of the certain alchemist, so if Albedo is in his camp, then you’re most likely there too.

Now inspired Kaeya quickly traverses the mountain, skillfully avoiding the hilichurl tribes and skirmishes altogether. After a short, yet frankly gruelling travel he finds himself finally arriving at the camp, your figure seen from the entrance. You sit near the alchemical device, tightly bundled up in layers upon layers of warm clothes, a book in your hands with no Albedo in sight. The alchemical apparatus is on, dyeing the whole room into scarlet shades, something red boiling inside of it, filling the air with the strange metallic scent. “Recent history of Teyvat”, Kaeya reads the cover and takes a step in. You remain still, too engrossed in reading to hear his footsteps, which he uses to take another good look at you.

Your face still looks lovely as it was on that day, yet there’s now a strong aura of frailness present - a greyish undertone of the skin, dry, chapped lips, pinkish-red rims blooming on your eyes, duller hair, even the fingers holding the books appear to be thinner. You look emaciated and exhausted, you must be sick.

“Hello”, Kaeya decides to pop the bubble of tranquility again - you quickly lift your head to look at him and almost drop the book: “We met before, in the forest, remember? I am here because of an investigation”.

“I am sorry, but I don’t think I can be of any help and I am still not allowed to talk to strangers”, you say and return to reading, pretending that he isn’t here.

“Well, that means we can introduce ourselves, so we won’t be strangers anymore and you will be able to talk to me without breaking any rules, right? Hello! I am Kaeya Alberich and I work as cavalry captain in the Knights of Favonius, pleased to meet you!”, he puts on his warmest smile and outstretches his hand to shake yours.

“I am not sure that this is a good idea, Albedo warned me to avoid outsiders”, you say, looking uneasy, as you throw a quick glance, past Kaeya, to the entrance of the camp.

“Albedo and I are coworkers, we both even had to work on some missions together, sure he doesn’t think of me as some outsider”.

“If you say so”, you sigh and cave in, your palm finally touching his. Kaeya feels the corners of his lips creeping up at the sensation, his heart skipping a beat or two: “I am [First} and I am… Albedo’s ward, pleased to meet you too”

“Now with introductions done, can I ask you a question?”, he takes another step and you nod - a step more and he might feel the warmth radiating off of your body, or hear your faint breathing, or smell your scent.

“Where are you from?”, your eyes widen at that. Kaeya finds himself almost hypnotized by this sight: the stars in your eyes shine with a renewed strength, the pale sunlight bringing out their warmth and radiance.

“I don’t really remember”, you admit, voice quiet and small: “Albedo says he found…”

“I discovered [First] in the heart of the mountain”, alchemist ends it for you, standing at the entrance of his camp with both of his assistants by the side, hands occupied by the local flora.

“Timaeus, sort and prepare ingredients”, he hands the herbs to the man: “Sucrose, you check up on [First] and give them.. the medicine, don’t worry I’ll just talk to sir Kaeya there”, Timaeus and Sucrose rush to the assigned task, with the latter taking out a red vial from the alchemical drawer, the liquid inside shimmering and glowing with an unnatural glitter. The last part is said to you, as alchemist gestures for the cavalry captain to go outside, quickly leaving the room.

Kaeya follows him as they both leave the camp - Albedo walks unusually quickly, not looking around even once to check if he’s still behind, and only when the both of them leave the camp far enough - so far that you, Timaeus and Sucrose turn into a small dots does he stop.

“What do you need? Why did you interrogate [First]?”, Albedo says, skipping all of the courtesies. His voice remains neutral, but Kaeya can feel the displeasure - it radiates off of his pose and faster speech, how Kreideprinz’s disinterested eyes suddenly turned cold and piercing.

“Easy, easy”, Kaeya half-laughs, raising his hands in mock defence: “interrogate is a strong word here, we two just had a friendly chat”.

Teal eyes narrow at this whimsical answer and alchemist’s face sours: “Leave [First] alone”, he voices, darkly and angrily - Kaeya almost backs off from surprise - it’s quite unusual to see Albedo express his disdain so freely and openly, yet he replies in the same carefree tone:

“I won’t, not until you say where they’re from at least. [First] has star-shaped pupils, we both know what it means”.

“I already have said that - I found [First] deep underneath the mountain, completely frozen. Cold must have trapped them in the ice and preserved their body for all these years, yet it also damaged their memory. They seem to be unaware of what happened to your homeland five hundred years ago, nor do they have any idea of the present world". Kaeya intently observes Albedo as he says that - alchemist is certainly hiding something.

"That's how.. Well, I wish [First] good luck in retrieving their memories", he decides not to press further - Albedo is already in a bad mood and won't tolerate him fishing for more information, nor will the alchemist agree to share what he hides. Kaeya asks him a couple of questions pertaining to the missing person and he gets the expected answer - Luckas wasn't seen by Albedo or any of his assistants either. Alchemist says it a bit quicker than he usually talks, Kaeya chalks it up to annoyance.

***

The first useful lead appears after the third disappearance this month - Masha Haedle, who was characterized as hardworking and passionate, yet troubled by her alcohol addiction, vanished on the way to her job. Her employer sent one letter after another, demanding her to visit her workplace, lest she will be fired. Haedle didn’t answer any of the messages, nor was she spotted anywhere in the next few days.

It was her concerned neighbours who notified the knights, who quickly connected her disappearance to the series of other missing cases and Kaeya was dispatched again - he decided to start by investigating her house and he was right in doing so.

Her place is barren, but tidy, Haedle's diligence and financial issues shining through the simple interior. Kaeya strides among the neatly cleaned house until he enters a small bedroom.

Unlike the rest of the place, the bed here is undone, sheets lay messily across the nightstand and floor, with a couple of plant pots knocked over, dry soil sprawled everywhere. He comes closer to this picture, taking in the small details - there's a trace of fingernails on the wood, as if the victim was latching onto the furniture as she was dragged back, a part of the sheets is actually burnt, with a small candle crushed on the floor - it could be knocked down when kidnapper attacked Masha, and the most glaring piece - an orange dimly glowing crystal.

It crumbles and disintegrates the same second Kaeya picks it up, but this short moment is enough to feel the warmth radiating off of it - it's a geo crystal, formed by the reaction with pyro.

Whoever attacked miss Haedle was using a geo vision to put out the fire, and might also be the reason of other disappearances. After all, a vision user kidnapping the drunkards is just as nonsensical as said drunks just vanishing into thin air, leaving nothing behind.

***

Mondstadt embraces the Windrise festival with the same warmth it always did, as citizens of all sorts start to prepare for the coming festivities. Some decorate their houses with dried and paper flowers that they consider anemones, others stock up on both sweets and wine, no doubt for a celebratory dinner, bards recite the new songs, praising the anemo archon and caroling the freedom that Barbatos gave them, and knights, both high and low ranks alike are piled with even more work.

Kaeya finds himself temporarily dispatched from the dead-end investigation, tasked to look out for any suspicious persons and possible lawbreakers, as a horde of tourists and traders flooded the city. He spends the entire day working, and catches a breather once the sun starts to set. This break, however, is swiftly interrupted, when Jean summons him, asking to deliver some messages to Albedo for the lack of workforce.

Unsurprisingly, the alchemist spends his time outside of the city in a temporary camp, preferring the fresh air and forest landscape to the human loudness and cheer. He finds you alone again, with Albedo nowhere to be seen. Seems that whatever disease has plagued you started to back off - your tone is still far from healthy, yet it stopped being so ashy and grey like the first time, and your starry eyes no longer look like you’ve cried all night non-stop.

You stand near the table, slowly sorting the alchemical compounds, with both sleeves rolled up, exposing the delicate, elegant wrists and the old bruising on the forearms. The setting sun almost lights your visage on fire - you look brighter, more vivid, than you did under the pale Dragonspine sun or the cool shadow of the forest. You look like you glow too.

Even with the fatigue, he still smiles - ah, you’re so easy on the eyes, he rests just by looking at you..

“Hello”, he approaches, distracting you from your task for the third time: “is Albedo here?”.

“He left some time ago, he wanted to sketch hilichurl tribe. Said it’s too dangerous for me, so I am just standing here, waiting for him”, Kaeya can sense a mild disappointment coming from you, which is not surprising - spending your time in the wilderness, while the city before you is set ablaze in the celebration can frustrate anyone. He gets an idea.

“I see you want to see the Windrise for yourself, am I right?”, your affirmative nod, “How about I accompany you to Mondstadt and we both have some fun?”.

“I would really want to, but Albedo asked me to stay here. I don’t want to disappoint him”, you reply, the hesitation in your voice clear as day.

“And you won't!”Kaeya retorts: “I will take all the blame, say that I spirited you away with my persuasion skills”, he adds dramatically and outstretches his palm in a theatrical gesture. You giggle at that, obviously entertained by his antics.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me”, you take his hand, before asking: “this is why you came? To invite me to a festival?”

Oh, he forgot about messages.

Kaeya leaves them in the secure box you pointed to, before taking your hand again and almost running back to Monstadt. Something tells him that Albedo will be livid once he returns to the now empty camp.

***

“Oh gods”, you gasp, looking at the burst of colors exploding in the night sky - some travelers have brought fireworks from Liyue and Inazuma and decided to set them off, creating a breathtaking scenery. Kaeya even forgets how to breathe, but not because of the fireworks, but you - you look so excited and amazed, and all kinds of colours reflect from your eyes, the stars in them resembling two large diamonds. He’s ready to kill for this sight.

The next half an hour are spent with him following you, as you excitedly run from one thing or another - turns out Albedo didn’t allow you much outside time, so even the main streets of Mondstadt are novelty to you. He drinks in your reactions, all the faces and sounds you make are stored away in his memory as you get amazed by the simplest things.

In the end, he decides to take you to the Angel’s Share, you’re already so cute and he can’t imagine how much more adorable you’ll become all drunk and giggly. He orders a bottle of a young wine for you two - made from the spring dandelions, it’s taste is perfect for the atmosphere of Windrise - it tastes of freedom and adventure, the spirit of Mondstadt encapsulated into a beverage.

“It tastes nice”, you comment, taking a small sip, “it’s sweet but not too sweet”, before your face suddenly contorts from pain and you bend in half, hands clutching your abdomen.

“[First]? What’s happening, [First]?”Kaeya rushes to you, his hands stopping your fall. You mumble something incoherent, before going limp in his hold - you are unconscious. He shakes your form to wake you up, yet you don’t respond, inner panic slowly rising - what to do, what to do, what to do?

“Did you give alcohol to [First]?!”, suddenly someone hisses near him. It’s Albedo again and it’s the first time Kaeya sees him so angry. “We need to get [First] to my lab quickly. Every second counts”, Albedo helps him to lift you up and almost runs out from the tavern, pushing others away to make way for Kaeya and you in his hands.

“Put them here”, alchemist point to the big wooden table, quickly knocking over all empty flasks down, uncaring of the equipment he might break, as he rushes into the further part of the room, taking out the already on alchemical apparatus from the depths of his cabinets.

The strange red liquid slushes inside, as Albedo swiftly opens the top and adds some hideous mix of blood and pieces of flesh into the device, the reek of blood and alcohol permeating the air.

Kaeya wants to gag. “What’s this?”, he asks, not bothering to hide his disgust.

“Medicine”, Albedo quickly replies, teal eyes shifting from the mix to your sick face.

Over time the stench subsides, and apparatus starts to glow and shimmer with that scarlet radiance Kaeya saw in the Dragonspine camp, replacing the stink with the same strange coppery scent. Albedo takes out a glass vial from his pocket and connects it to the faucet of the apparatus, collecting the fat drops of the produced liquid.

Kaeya takes a good look at the product, mesmerized by the strange glitter and shimmer - it looks alive, and then suddenly everything clicks - the origin of medicine, the smell of alcohol coming from meat and even the disappearances of the drunkards. He remembers the tales his father used to tell him, about khemia and the wonders and horrors it could unleash - artificial humans, endless gold and…

“Philosopher’s stone”, he breathes out, utterly shocked by his revelation.

“How? How did you know”, Albedo looks at him with scared eyes, almost dropping the vial with “medicine”.

“Why?! Why did you do that?!”Kaeya yells instead of answering the question, still shocked and horrified, a taste of bile appearing on his tongue.

Alchemist seems unsure and totally lost for a good minute, as his usually calm face rapidly shifts between different emotions: sadness, shock, horror, shame and even anger, until finally resulting into the expression of total defeat: “It’s for [First]’s sake”, he tiredly admits the dark secret: “The frost has severely damaged their internal organs. I’ve been trying to heal them, but to no avail”.

“So you decided to break alchemical laws and create the elixir of life”, Kaeya grimly concludes, face scrunching up from disgust.

“Yes”, an unsettling lips makes its way onto the alchemist's lips as he lifts his head and looks captain right in the eye: “I’ve broken the laws, killed people and used their bodies. All to save [First]. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same, I’ve seen how you stare at [First] and I know what you want to do with them”.

.Was he that obvious?

“I see”, Kaeya replies, sensing the growing headache and rubbing his temples: “I won’t tell others of what you’ve done”. He can’t just imprison Albedo and doom you to a slow, agonizing death.

“I knew you would agree with me”, alchemist sighs “[First] is getting healthier, they won’t need… medicine as often, yet their organs will never be in a top condition”.

“How many?”

“What?”

“How many people per year?”

Albedo turns quiet again, the creepy smile vanishing as quickly as it appeared, as his eyes adopt that contemplating look again.

“No more than three people. Once I fix that liver damage you gave [First] with your wine, they won’t need no more than three transfusions”, he says his verdict and Kaeya weighs his words - three missing people per year is a miniscule number.

“I make at most philosopher’s stones per year and you cover my tracks in exchange for time with [First]. Deal?”, Albedo extends his hand for a handshake and Kaeya takes it, yet doesn’t shake it, asking instead:

“Can I get to taste [First]?”, he smiles, remembering your face and imagining your body.

“If [First] consents to that, then yes”, Albedo becomes that inexpressive again, yet he can still feel the displeasure and indignation coming from alchemist’s answer.

“I am sure they will, I think they like me”, he finally shakes the other’s arm.

They sit in a silence for a while, before the vial gets completely filled by the “medicine” - Albedo takes out a syringe and injects the mixture into your bloodstream through the veins on the hands. Kaeya smiles even wider, looking how a healthy colour returns to your face - he can’t wait to reap the fruits of this agreement.

#Yandere Kaeya #Yandere Albedo #yandere kaeya x reader #Yandere Albedo x reader #Yandere genshin impact #Yandere genshin impact x reader #Yandere #Yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #male yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #my writing #Albedo is tired #Reader is furniture

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simsadventures · 3 years

Text

Gilded: Chapter 1: To Bride or Not to Bride

Mob! Steve x Reader

Summary: Your life is a mess and you need a little help from time to time. But, when somebody proposes a plan to rid you of all your problems all the way to the far future, you’re suddenly not so sure it is worth it. Especially since the plan is proposed to you by the most notorious gangster America has seen since Al Capone: Steve fucking Rogers.

Warnings: mafia AU, swearing (like, a lot this time), angst, struggles with money, loan-shark, sleazy men, harassing

Word Count: 7969

A/N: It’s finally here! It only took me around 6 months to bring it, and I apologise for the delay, but I hope I will make up for it with introductory this chapter :) Share your thoughts, let me know what you thought and what do you think will happen next :) xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

“Just, wait a second,” you said, your brows knitting together as you tried to piece together all the information the man in front of you had just given you. He was gorgeous, there was no question about that, but that wasn’t the issue here. There were many gorgeous people in New York, and you didn’t marry any of them. Yet, that was.

“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction.

“I told you, honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing.

2 weeks ago

“Coming!” You yelled through the loud music at the guests seated by the table number 5 where a group of guys was seated, hollering at you every two seconds as if you didn’t hear them the first time. You rolled your eyes at your colleague, who just laughed under her breath as you strode towards the clients. You put on your best fake smile as you approached them, and from the whistles, you assumed they appreciated it.

“Thank God you came, sweets. We thought you were getting tired of us,” the loudest of them laughed, and the group followed his suit, making your clench your jaw even more. Oh, how you hated this type of men, who had nothing better to do than calling a woman pet-names, making her feel uncomfortable just so his friends could have a laugh and a story to tell.

“What can I get you, gentleman? Another round of the same?” You asked as sweetly as you could, but it was getting harder by the second as they all eyed you like a piece of raw meat, ready to be devoured.

“I mean, that would be nice, and could you serve us a piece of that sweet ass of course as well? We’d really appreciate it, pretty face,” the loud guy smirked sleazily, and you fought the urge to vomit in your face. One of the guys made the mistake of actually making a move to swat you across your butt, but your reflexes were quicker.

You took a step back and breathed in, trying to calm your beating heart. This was, however, nothing new in your line of work, and you just learned to ignore it, or, at best, politely turn them down. Because, as you learned very early on, the manager didn’t appreciate if his “girls” were nasty to his customers. He almost made it sound like you were to provide your bodies with the beers, but you told him straightforwardly that that wouldn’t happen, and if his pub was one of these, you wanted to have nothing to do with it. All you were there to do was to work the evening and night shift to get some extra money on top of your regular job, and that was it. He even made a few remarks how he wanted you all to himself, but you politely declined every time and just tried to ignore it altogether.

“This ass is not for sale, I’m sorry, boys. But, the vodka shots are coming right up,” you tried to give them your best wink but didn’t wait long enough to see if they accepted their loss or not. You genuinely didn’t care.

The night continued in a similar manner, some people being inappropriate and you just ignoring their behaviour, and some people actually nice, even leaving you a few tips which always made you smile. You were beat when it was 11, and your shift ended, and you were thrilled today wasn’t one of those days when you had to stay there till 4 AM. It was then that people got really disgusting and you even had to resolve to hit a guy this one time because otherwise, you were pretty sure he’d manage to rape you. You sighed at the memory as you continued on your way home, just now remembering you left the tips meant for you in your locker.

Sighing you turned around and walked back towards the bar, and when you were in, you noticed three men in black suits talking to your coworker, who looked stunned and scared at the same time. You cocked a brow at her, and she discreetly shook her head, telling you that you shouldn’t come nearer.

This time, you really frowned and looked around, but the rest of the pub looked exactly the way you left it, even with the assholes by the fifth table. But you listened to her and took a step back to one of the dark corners, watching what was going on by the bar. It didn’t take long, definitely not longer than 5 minutes before the men turned around and left the building.

Your coworker looked positively alarmed by now, and you almost ran to her to ask what the fuck did just happen.

“I have no idea, Y/N. I noticed them by table 10 like an hour ago, but I didn’t pay them any attention because that was Christy’s sector tonight and I had the veranda. And when you left they just came here asking about you,” she breathed out, and it was your turn to look alarmed.

“The fuck? Why would they ask about me when it was Christy who took care of them?” You screeched, your brain not really comprehending the situation.

“I have no fucking idea, Y/N. But, like, they asked your name and stuff, and like, if you were a regular waitress here or what. I didn’t want to tell them anything, I swear, but they didn’t take no for an answer. So I just told them your first name, I wouldn’t budge on your last, I promise, and told them that you sometimes worked here but that I didn’t know when was your next shift,” she finished, a little scared of your reaction now, but from the look of those guys, you knew they were bad news and that Anja did the best she could.

“Nah, it’s ok, An. I would do the same. I’m really grateful that you didn’t give them my last name, though, that was really thoughtful of you,” you smiled at her, and it obviously put her at ease as she hugged and hurried back to the veranda, where you both saw a few guests waving that they needed a refill.

The hell did just happen, and why would three mysterious men ask about you?

It couldn’t be that they found out, right? No… you made sure all the traces were hidden, forever, so, that wasn’t an option.

No, you told yourself, there must be another reason for them to ask about you. But you didn’t want to find out. It was a one-time thing, these men were just confused, or one of them liked you or something like that, and you would never see them again. This actually calmed you down enough to start functioning again, and you remembered that you came for something specific, took the money and went straight home.

“This can’t be happening,” you muttered as you looked over your bills. There was so much to pay and so little money on your account that you actually started to sweat. You worked two jobs and still wasn’t able to afford to live a life where you didn’t have to worry about money. What was more, with the high taxes, your rent, subway card and food you went into red numbers, and that was something you definitely didn’t want. Nobody told you that as an Arts Major, you could still be struggling to stay alive in the city of New York.

You went over the bills again even though you knew your math was correct and that you didn’t have enough to pay your landlord this month.

Fuck, you muttered again and considered your options. You could ask your friends, but you didn’t want to bother them since you knew they were struggling as much as you were. You shared your apartment with two of your best friends who you considered a family by now, Caroline and Aidan. And while you knew they would do anything to help you, neither of their jobs paid enough to be able to help you as much as you needed this month.

Your other option was asking your landlord to give you some more time before more money arrived, but just imagining the conversation gave you goosebumps because you could picture the kind of service he’d want from you, and you’d literally rather go and beg on the street than to sleep with that middle-aged pig.

So, as you summarised it, the only option remained the loan shark. Tony was actually a nice guy, once you got to know him, and he was nice to you because you always paid precisely what he told you to when he told you to, and never asked too many questions or begged for more time. You were smarter than that, and, besides, you’ve seen too many movies with loan sharks to know what could happen to you.

The first time you went to him was probably 2 years ago, straight from university when you still thought you could make it big in New York. Well, safe to say that you didn’t make it, and while you remained hopeful, you had bigger problems than becoming a renown painter, like not starving to death and other fun stuff like that.

You were awfully scared to go to Tony, he had a reputation of being kind of an ass, but people also said that, compared to the other guys in the business, he actually had the fairest demands, and as you had no other choice, you just went to him. And because life was a bitch, you ended up going there on more occasions. Tony was kind enough always to lend even small amounts of money because you really didn’t need 100K. No, you always need like 1 or 2 thousand, and while the other loan sharks turned people like you down, Tony didn’t, and he never wanted more than like 400$ as a return, which seemed quite fair as the other guys always wanted 100% or more.

Well, Tony, it was, as you sighed looking around your room, thinking how you even got where you were. But there was no time to waste pitying yourself, and so you shot Tony a quick message, as you always did, and to no surprise, he was very quick to respond that you should come by later that afternoon.

You were just getting ready when Aidan burst through your door. He stopped mid-step, looking at you confusedly because you didn’t tell him you were going somewhere.

“Got a date or what? You never go out on Saturday afternoon, not if you can help it,” he said sceptically, looking around the room as his eyes landed on the fumbled papers on your table, and the look of realisation hit him.

“You going to Tony again? Y/N, we told you, we can help you, babe! Let us help just this once, please?” He pleaded with you even though he knew it was useless.

“C’mon, babe, you know you and Caroline are not making much either, and you’re both glad to get by another month. Tony is like an old friend by now, really. I don’t mind it that much, and it’s definitely a better option than burying you two with me under this pile of shit,” you huffed as you finished applying mascara, but you didn’t even check yourself in the mirror, really not caring that much how you looked. You went to Manhattan just to meet Tony and would go straight back, quick mission, in and out.

“You need to find a better job, Y/N,” Aidan smirked at you, and you just laughed because you both knew it was pretty much impossible, especially since you loved your day job with the only issue that it paid like shit.

“You know this is my chance to be close to art and I really want it. I mean, it could happen that they promote me from being a receptionist to like, I dunno, being a secretary to one of the curators of the gallery, right?”

He just huffed and kissed the top of your head, striding towards the door. It was only then that you noticed he was dressed to go out as well.

“And where are you going, mister?” You asked with a mother-like tone, and he just laughed, turning around as if he was caught in the act.

“So, you remember John?” He asked, sitting on your bed, and you actually laughed out loud at him.

“Which one? I mean, there has been so many Johns and Peters that I swear to God I’m starting to think there are only men called John and Peter in the whole fucking New York. So, more info, babe, please,” you scooted to him and listened to which John it actually was he was meeting and was pretty excited about this. This was John the Ballet dancer, and he looked really nice, so far.

John the Fake Mobster was a lying bastard, John the Hairdresser wanted Aidan for just that one thing but would never admit it, and then you didn’t even have John-the for the guys because they were all just idiots who didn’t see your best friend for what he was: an amazing, although a little extra person with a very good heart, great sense of humour and amazing hair.

“Alright, well, you know the drill. Keep your phone on data so we can use Find your Friend if needed, keep your eyes open for anything sketchy going on, but, most importantly, enjoy yourself, babe. I’ll see you tonight,” you hugged him tightly and walked out of the apartment and into the busy streets.

If it were all up to you, you’d live in a secluded place, somewhere in the north probably, like outside Seattle, where you’d have a lovely little house, maybe by a river or by the ocean or something, where you’d have enough inspiration for your art and where you wouldn’t be annoyed by the little things, like the car horns blaring all the way to the night, people shouting underneath your bedroom’s window, and little things like that.

But life was not a factory for fulfilled wishes, and you had to endure another day trying to make it in New York. You thought about all of this as you walked down the street to where you knew you could find Tony. You weren’t happy that you had to go to him, again, but you also knew that you didn’t need to worry anymore. You would have the money for your landlord by the end of the week, and when the gallery paid you, you would pay Tony back. Again.

“If it isn’t my favourite girl!” You heard a familiar voice hollering from the shop, and you laughed lightly as you walked into the pawnshop Tony had set up in the lower Manhattan.

“Hello to you too, Tony. Today a yellow day, or what?” You greeted him as you looked at his outfit, which was just a canary yellow tracksuit and a matching hat. He looked like a character from a bad movie, but you knew better than to say anything like that.

“Yellow is very classy and trendy, thank you very much! Yesterday I wore this really nice green velvet tracksuit, and you should have seen some ladies walking by, they almost ate me with their eyes! I swear!” He added as he saw you stifling a laugh, but you just nodded in fake understanding, and both of you shared a relaxed laugh.

“So, what can I do for you today, sweetheart?” He drawled, and you shuffled on the spot, always feeling slightly uncomfortable when it came to this part.

“I need a thousand this week. Ton. I’ve been working my ass off, but the bills keep building up, and every time I think I’m out of it and I can live normally, there is always something holding me back,” you sighed, scratching your arms which was a nervous habit of yours that Tony grew quite fond of.

He was almost sorry for saying the next thing, but this was way above his pay grade, and while he really did take some liking to you, and he would always give you enough time to pay him off, he knew who he couldn’t piss off.

“Listen, Y/N, I have a proposal for you,” Tony started, and you frowned, not really knowing where this was going, but from the look on Tony’s face, you could tell it was nothing good.

“There is somebody who would like to get to know you, and he has a proposal for you that he believes you can’t refuse. I don’t know any specifics, I just know he is willing to pay you a lot of money, and I’m talking thousands and thousands, Y/N. He said that nothing sexual would be involved because I told him that if he was looking for a one night stand, you weren’t his girl, but he assured me that this wasn’t it. He would like to meet with you and tell you all the details if you let him. And before you say no, Y/N, think about it. All you gotta do now is to meet him and listen to him, and he is one of those guys who don’t take no for an answer,” Tony finished, and while you saw it pained him to give you the message, you were too stunned to care.

“What the hell are you talking about, Tony? Is this some kind of a sick joke? Like, did this guy tell you he wanted to talk to me specifically or just a girl desperate enough to come here?” You blurted, still not getting what he was about.

“He asked for you, sweetie. I don’t know how, but he knew you’d come and told me when you did to give you the message and give you his address. Which is here,” he said, handing you a piece of paper with an address and a date with the time written on it, “and he told me that if you came and agreed to his plan, you wouldn’t have to worry about money this week or any other week. It could be your chance, Y/N. Look, the guy is extremely powerful, so, please, just go and meet him, and you’ll see, ok?” He was scared, and it made you scoff out loud.

Great, so a loan shark was giving you a message to meet some mysterious, powerful asshole who wouldn’t take no for an answer and who probably stalked you as he knew you would be coming to Tony sooner or later. Just great, really.

“It seems I don’t really have a choice, do I? Sheesh, Tony, at least tell me who this guy is and like how scared I should be. You gotta give me something because I can’t just go to some random house and be totally ok with it. Nobody can’t expect me to do so,” you pointed out, and Tony nodded in understanding.

“Totally, yeah. I even asked if I should come with you, but I was told you should be alone. You should be alert, let’s put it that way. If I were you, I’d really think before I speak, because this guy doesn’t take anything lightly. And I think it would be best if you didn’t know his name, Y/N. Just… he doesn’t want to hurt you, all he wants to do is speak to you, so please, just do it,” Tony finished just as some customer came into the shop.

You waited patiently because the conversation was far from over, but you knew better than to start shit in front of some stranger. Tony was evidently scared shitless of the guy, and it only fuelled your already growing anxiety. Tony was determined not to share too much information with you, but you didn’t understand why. Why could you not at least know the guy’s name? Who could it be?

Your brain took a detour to a few nights ago back at the pub where you saw the men asking about you, and a cold sweat broke on your skin. It must have been connected, there was no doubt in your mind about that, and it filled you with so much dread you actually had to catch your right hand with your left to stop yourself from shaking violently.

The doorbell rang signalling the customer left, and your eyes gazed at Tony, who was already staring at you apologetically.

“And what about the money, Tony? It’s Saturday, and I need to pay my rent by Friday next week. Nice of the guy, whoever the fuck he is, that he wants to see me, but he won’t if I’m on a fucking street next weekend,” you seethed, and Tony was quick to walk around the counter behind which he was standing this whole time and walked closer to you.

“He wants to see you on Wednesday, Y/N, and he specifically told me not to lend you any money, that he would take care of it. Whatever the fuck it means.”

“The fuck? I don’t even know his fucking name, and he will stop me from getting money to survive? What the actual hell, Tony? You can’t be serious right now,” you cried out in utter desperation because none of this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to come, chat a little with the goatee man, get the money and walk back home, where you’d watch some stupid TV show and drink shitty wine.

But no, of all the people living in New York this shit must be happening to you. As you didn’t have enough on your fucking plate as was, some mysterious fucker had to be interested in you for whatever reason, and he wouldn’t let you live without talking to him first.

“Can’t you just call him and tell him that I want to have nothing to do with him?” You asked when you felt calm enough to talk again. You didn’t even know whether you were scared or desperate or angry, but at best, you were feeling a mix of all these and some more, that was for sure.

“No can do, sweetie, but I promise it will be alright, ok? You’re a strong one, I know that and whatever he wants from you, you can either give or can talk to him,” Tony smiled sweetly, and while you knew he was full of bullshit you let it slide because you just didn’t have it in you to fight with him when he was clearly just the messenger. Whoever wanted to speak to you, however, he would hear it from you because where were we that a guy just asks for a girl and the whole of New York delivers her to him on a silver platter?

Wednesday

“You gotta be kidding me, Y/N. Are you seriously considering going there? For all you know it might be some elaborate trap and somebody’s gonna jump you and kill you in some dark alley,” Caroline screeched at you as she saw you getting ready after you came home from work.

You had to ask for a night off from the pub since mister nobody wanted to meet you on your night of work. But you knew you couldn’t say no. Whoever it was, Tony was afraid of him, and Tony was a tough guy. And not that you wouldn’t be brave, but your bravery was mostly concentrated on being able to throw a spider out of the apartment or walk the corridor with the lights out, not really crossing some powerful guy who could do God-knows-what to you if you didn’t come.

“C’mon, guys. You know I gotta do it. And I honestly think if they wanted to kill me, they would have already done it,” you muttered, trying to pick something to wear, that wasn’t too revealing, but you also didn’t want to go wherever you were going in a pair of baggy sweatpants you were currently rocking.

“But like, what if they want to make a personal slave out of you, huh? Like, cuff you to a ceiling and serve them with your body, like a personal kind of slave, you know what I mean? You were not made to be strapped to a ceiling, babe,” Aidan panicked, and you actually had to laugh.

“Your imagination never ceases to astonish me, Aid. Or are you speaking from personal experience?” You smirked as both you and Caroline laughed out loud at Aidan’s expression of utter disgust.

“You two are disgusting, and I hate you, but that doesn’t change the fact you still don’t know where the fuck you’re going,” Aidan countered and you rolled your eyes at him.

“I’ll keep my data on so you can see me this whole time, and if I don’t call you by 9 PM you can send the cops there, deal?”

They both nodded in agreement, knowing this was the best they were getting. You were glad you had them in your life and that you had people caring enough to try and stop you from doing something stupid, but something in your told you that your life would be even worse if you didn’t go. At least this way you’d know the whole story, and you would be able to make an educated decision based on all the variables.

“A’ight, but if anything sketchy happens, you run, ok? We can figure out the money, but we can’t figure out shit if you’re not here with us,” Caroline reminded you, and you nodded solemnly.

God, you just hoped you weren’t making a mistake by listening to Tony. He even shot you a message in the afternoon, reminding you to go there because if you didn’t, it could end up badly for both of you. And it was actually one of the decisive arguments in the whole thing, surprisingly. You didn’t want anything happening to Tony, especially not because of you and your decisions, and so you just told yourself to suck it and prepared for the evening.

You really couldn’t afford the cab, so you had to leave super early to be at the given address at precisely 7 PM. You also grabbed the book you were currently reading, Kim Stanley Robinson’s New York 2140, so that the ride to Manhattan wouldn’t be as dull and dreadful. You could think of the utopian future he depicts rather than thinking of your journey to the lion’s den, and that was the most promising image you created in your head about the place where you were headed.

Not that you didn’t try to find the place on Google maps, but all the buildings on the address looked the same, and, actually, quite nice, so you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

Meanwhile, Tony texted you again since you didn’t reply to his previous text, and this time you took the time to craft a message telling him that yes, you were indeed headed to the manor and he didn’t need to worry about his own neck because you wouldn’t let others be hurt because of your incompetence or your cowardice.

You knew you were getting off on Chambers St station and you actually took the time to think how many people living in Tribeca had to take the subway. The answer was, very obviously, zero, as the majority of the people in the subway were either passing or were clothed in a way you knew they worked in either one of the restaurants there or as a help. And you felt like one of them, because you too didn’t live in the wealthiest village in New York, and you too were going there mainly for business. Well, at least you hope you did.

Checking every house number when you got to the street you were supposed to meet the mysterious guy at, you tried to find where exactly was the bat cave, and when you saw the number 112, you knew you found it.

Your breath came in ragged huffs as you tried to gather the last remnants of your bravery as you walked up the stairs and buzzed on the door. Your head was spinning lightly, and you actually had to lean against the wall beside you to regain your composure.

The door soon revealed a massive man dressed in a black turtleneck and a pair of black jeans, and you were actually quite surprised not to see him with sunglasses and an earpiece. If the situation weren’t so tense, you’d probably joke about it, but as it was, you just followed his lead as he beckoned you inside.

“Miss Y/L/N, I presume? I need to see your phone and your belongings, ma’am,” he stated, and you raised a brow at him.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a standard procedure, ma’am. Everybody here to see the boss needs to be checked, just in case,” he stated, leaving no room for discussion, and while you sighed exasperatedly, you still handed him your bag and made a point by fishing out the phone and shoving it in his outstretched hand. He took a quick look through your belongings, pushing it against what you assumed was some kind of a metal detector before he pulled out another device. This looked like a big phone, and he scanned your bag once again.

“What is that?” You asked, unable to stop your curiosity.

“Checking if you’re not bugged,” he answered matter-of-factly as he continued before he put the device down, clearly not finding anything. Where would you even get a bug, and why would you do it? You rolled your eyes inwardly but kept a straight face in front of the man, just in case he was watching. Which he was, as you found out by him waving in front of your face and showing you to follow him.

You braced yourself for whatever was awaiting upstairs and obediently walked behind him.

As you walked through the house, you got the impression that whoever lived there was wealthy, but that kind that didn’t really put on a flashy show. There were no chandeliers, no heavy curtains and stuff you pretty much imagined this place would look like and that image had nothing to do with the Beast and the Beauty dance room, nothing at all.

But this was… modest. Everything was very contemporary, some prominent brick here and there with mostly grey floors and the furniture was most definitely customary but, again, it was plain yet luxurious. You assumed that’s how the really rich people lived. They knew they had the money, and the people around them knew it as well, so there was no need for diamond stairs and a golden toilet.

A few names surged from memory as you heard your coworkers discuss the wealthy New Yorkers, but you didn’t want to assume anything before you actually saw the person, so you just walked by the halls before the man stopped in front one of the rooms and quietly knocked.

It was not surprising when another man dressed exactly like the guy leading you appeared from the room and took a quick look at you before he said something to whoever was behind him. When the affirmative came that you could indeed go in there, they shoved the door open and what you assumed was a living room appeared in front of you. It corresponded with the whole house, but your attention was caught by one specific thing. Your brain had its own world, and when you saw one of Tunji Adeniyi-Jones’s paintings from his last year’s exhibit, you almost fainted. He was your favourite contemporary artist. And seeing his work outside of the gallery was practically an otherworldly feeling. You gaped at the beautiful play of colours, and your heart swooned at the perfection of the brush strokes.

“Ehm,” you heard somebody cough beside you, and it startled you so much you actually jumped to the side, your hand flying to your chest in a feeble attempt to will your heart to stay calm.

You took the intruder in and found out that unlike every other man in the room (and there were a few, as you noticed) this guy wasn’t wearing all-black attire. He was in a comfortable-looking creme sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans, everything fitting him as if the clothes were sawn to his body.

Which, as far as you could tell, was the body of a Greek God.

“See something you like, honey?” The man interrupted thoughts, and it just crossed your mind that he was really rude, not letting you breathe even for a second before he had to make his presence known.

“Yes, actually. I’m quite a big fan of the artist whose painting you have there, so I admired that. And you are?” You trailed at the end, signalling that while he was very handsome, you had no idea who he was and why it was that you needed to come to him this evening.

“Straight to business, huh? I like that. I’m quite surprised Tony didn’t tell you who I was. Was he scared you wouldn’t have come if you knew?” He didn’t wait for your answer, however. “Well, honey, I’m Steve Rogers, and I am very pleased to meet you,” he smirked at your stomach dropped.

Steve Rogers? That Steve Rogers? It wasn’t possible.

“You gotta be kidding me,” you muttered as you scratched your arms nervously.

“Oh no, on the contrary. I’m all too real, Miss Y/L/N, and from the looks of it, I’m glad Tony didn’t tell you, you look like you might faint. Are you feeling alright?” He asked like the smug asshole he was, and you just turned away from him, taking a deep breath before you finally turned back around to face him with a pokerface.

“I’m alright, thank you. So now, can I know what it is you want from me so much you stalked me and made me come here, pretty much by force?”

He scoffed but showed you to follow him to the sofa. When you didn’t budge, he simply took you by your elbow and pretty much shoved you down to the plump sofa.

“Force, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I simply asked you to come visit me, is it so wrong? But yes, you are right, we should talk about why I invited you here. You see, Y/N, I’m in need of a wife, and after long calculations, I came to the conclusion you would be perfect for the job,” he said straightforwardly, and it was now that you felt like you’d faint.

“Marry me? Are you fucking insane?” You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Form the pissed off expression on his face, you could see it was not the right move, but he couldn’t expect any other reaction, really.

“Easy, honey or I might have to use the said force to shut that smart mouth of yours,” Steve mumbled dangerously, and you swallowed harshly.

“Right, you’re a notorious mobster, and I’m literally nobody, and if you killed me, nobody would miss me. Good, now that’s out of the table, why do you want to marry me? And what does it mean you are in need of a wife? I mean… you are notorious for dating a different girl every week, can’t you just marry one of them if you’re in such a great hurry?”

“No, honey, I can’t. All you need to know right now is my proposal. So, here it is. You will marry me, we will stay married for a year and then get a divorce. You will have everything every girl ever wanted: loads of clothes, all the time in the world to do whatever the fuck you want, you won’t have to work, and I will pay for everything and more. You will live here so you won’t have to worry about your rent money, and I will also pay your student loan, on top of which you will be paid 20.000$ every month for playing your role. And when the year is over, you will walk away rich, without any debts slowing you down and you will be able to do anything you want. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like it’s not a proposal but a directive,” you smiled sweetly and stood up, pacing the room and scratching your hands like crazy. This was not happening, no, no, no!

You needed the money, you really did, and getting rid of the debt from your student loan that would have been sweet too, but at what price? On the other hand, you thought, how bad could it be to just be somebody’s wife for a year? He did make it sound pretty easy.

“What would be expected of me?”

“Well, you would go with me to every event and pretty much listen to everything I say,” he shrugged as if it was the most natural thing to say to another human being.

“Like, you’d ask me to spread my legs for you here, and I would do it?” You asked, suddenly very angry that the man just assumed what kind of a person you were. You were desperate, but not that desperate.

“Oh, no, honey. That is one of the reasons why I chose you: I’m not attracted to you, so no, I wouldn’t ask you for any sexual favours. We could even put that to our contract if you’d feel better, but, really, you have nothing to worry from me,” he again said with ease, and you didn’t know if you were glad he just told you this or really pissed and ashamed.

Not that you thought you were some kind of a beauty, far from it, but he also didn’t have to be so upfront about it. And now you understood it even less why the hell he chose you.

“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction.

“Honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing.

“Then why choosing me if you don’t find me attractive? Not that it’s an issue, I’m just really trying to understand the situation here,” you said, totally ignoring the threat in his voice as you needed some much valuable answers.

“Right, well, first of all, as I already mentioned, what I want, I get, honey, and you should always remember that. Secondly, it was your ability to keep a straight face, even though I can see the ability is not endless. I need somebody who will be sickly sweet to both my friends and enemies alike, who won’t mind a few sleazy comments from the old fuckers, and who will look like an obedient wife. I need somebody who will blend in and who will look trustworthy, and not like she was to stay only for a week. And when I saw you in that pub where you used to work, I could see you had what it took to be in this life, even if only for a year,” he finished, and you were glad you were right at least about the guy, Steve, also sending the people to sniff around your workplace. But then it hit you.

“Where I used to work? I still work there,” you said dumbfounded, and Steve chuckled humorously.

“Oh no, you don’t. You see, I need my wife free all the time and I need her here with me. Look, Y/N, this is getting tiring, and I really need an answer now. What is it gonna be, huh?”

“Like I even have a choice. You just said you would use force if I said no, so, what am I supposed to say, huh? I don’t want to get married, but I don’t have any money and your snoopy ass is getting in the way of my life, and you ended one of my jobs, and before you say you terminated my contract in the gallery, please think about it again. That job is very important to me, it has always been my dream to be in a gallery surrounded by beautiful art, and, by chance, having my art there as well.

I don’t know Steve, your offer is very generous, it really is, but I don’t think I’m the right one,” you sighed finally and looked around the room, ignoring the boring looks from Steve. Then you saw the clock and you almost panicked, it was two minutes before 9.

“Oh my God, I need to call my friends, or they’re gonna call the cops,” you said quickly already dialling Caroline’s number. You told her you were fine and that no, you weren’t a personal slave yet, but that you’d tell them everything when you got home. When the call ended, the venom was back in Steve’s eyes.

“If you think you can talk to people about anything I have just said, you are terribly wrong, doll,” he seethed, and you were taken aback, but you didn’t want him to think he intimidated you.

“Well, if you think I’m not gonna tell my family about this, then it’s you who is terribly wrong, Steve. We tell each other everything, and if I considered this proposal of yours, it would mean Aidan and Caroline would know about this, at least that I’m marrying you for more than my undying love for you,” you spat back, and Steve saw the determination in your eyes. He knew he had to compromise with you, even if only a little bit.

He already found out everything about you, he knew your whole life, your past, everything his people could find on the internet. And what he got from the search was that you and the people you lived with were extremely close. He considered getting rid of them but realised it would only push you away from what he needed from you. And he needed a wife ASAP.

The mafia was still very conservative, and as he was the only boss without a constant woman by his side, he was sometimes excluded from important meetings that happened on “family retreats.” And he needed all the info there was if he wanted to be the best of the best. Or, the worst of the worst, if we were being literal.

“Fine, but they will need to sign a contract saying that they will keep their mouths shut,” Steve smiled back, and you nodded, your head already spinning.

Were you really considering it? But was there any other option? You needed the money, and it would’ve be great if you didn’t have to care about your student loan for the rest of your life. You would see the world, just like you wanted, you would have time for your art, and you would be free after only a year. That didn’t sound that bad. Sure, you’d be affiliated with a known mafia boss, but that was nothing you couldn’t handle. But there was still a question Steve didn’t answer.

“What about my job at the gallery? If you made them fire me and I’m gonna find out tomorrow, I can’t even begin to consider this. I want that job, I want to work at that gallery, Steve.”

“Fucking hell, I could buy you the gallery if you agreed!” He shouted, exasperated that it was taking so long. He really didn’t get it. He was proposing a life in luxury, and he knew that the majority of women in New York would be more than happy to be seen by his side. But you? You had to be difficult and even demand stuff. Fucking hell…

“But whatever, you wanna work there, fine. Whatever, I don’t give a fuck. Do we have a deal or not? I have better things to do with my evening than just bargain with you, honey,” he accentuated the pet name that you already hated.

Well, this wasn’t how you imagined your proposal to go. Not that you were too keen on the whole idea of a marriage, but still, a girl could dream. Yet, here you were, actually considering getting tied up with a mobster for a year just because he offered you enough money and a life that you felt like could be interesting, if only for a year and with a man who blatantly told you he wasn’t interested in you in that way. This was the only reason you didn’t feel as dirty as you expected because you knew he would never touch you and never want you to do something sexual against your will.

You were used to lying through your teeth ever since you were little, your parents made sure you knew how important it was to keep your secret, and dangerous life wasn’t something you only heard of on TV. All this made the decision slightly easier, as you finally made up your mind.

“Fine, but we still have a lot to talk about, Mr Rogers,” you set your jaw and outstretched your hand to shake on it with him.

“Whatever, Mrs Rogers. Consider your rent paid and I’ll see you on Friday when we discuss our matter in greater detail. Now, if you excuse me,” he kissed the top of your hand and walked away.

Well, this would be fun, you told yourself as you watched the man you would soon call your husband walk away from you, and contemplated whether you made the right choice. But your life wasn’t great as was, as much as you tried to fill it with laughter and happiness, and, in a sense, Steve offered you an out, even if only for a little bit.

Here was to nothing, you hollered at yourself in your mind and followed one of the turtleneck-guys out of the manor and into the chilly air of evening New York.

/ Next Chapter >

Tags will be in reblogs. Taglist for this series is open, all you have to do is send an ask or a message to me :) x Thank you for reading!

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got-svt · 3 years

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pairing: seventeen x reader genre: fluff, angst

updates: ???

warning; this is just me indulging in some of my favorite tropes and cliches because I can’t get enough of them

during the course of our lives, we meet thousands of people, creating either a seconds long moment or memories that last a lifetime. some of them you’ll have the opportunity to know beyond their names and faces, some you may even grow to love. unfortunately, not all of them have the luxury of staying in your life forever.

seventeen as all the boys you’ve loved and lost.

lee chan as the childhood best friend. he’s the one you grew up next to, who lived in the house directly in front of yours. the one you’ll forever associate with popsicles on the sidewalk, bike rides at dawn, seesaws and swings at sunset. and you wish you could trap yourself within the memories, to never escape the hold of childhood innocence. but, just like everyone else, both of you eventually had to grow up.

yoon jeonghan as the academic rival. he’s the one that had you wondering how could you be so similar to someone, yet so different? he knew how to push your buttons and make a competition of everything, whether it was sports, academics, or extracurriculars. he was the one that made steam come out of your ears and blood rush to your cheeks. but even you had to admit there was a certain rush that came with it, too bad he transferred schools just before senior year.

vernon chwe as the first love. he’s the one who woke up thirty minutes earlier in the morning just so he could walk with you to school. it was the kind of love that felt more like a friendship, but neither of you would have had it any other way. filled with inside jokes, skating in the park, sneaking out after curfew. all smiles, messy kisses, and badly belting out songs in the car. unfortunately, both of you also knew your relationship would never last past graduation day.

xu minghao as the boy you met at summer art camp. he’s the one you were hesitant to approach at first. it wasn’t until you were tasked to critique each other’s works that you really got to know him. after that it was all marshmallows around a campfire, swimming in the lake, drawing in the fields, and paint that never seemed to leave either of your skin. as much as you wanted it to last forever, summer had to end and he never promised to keep in touch.

joshua hong as the university campus crush. he’s the one who seemed too good to be true. whose smile could break a million hearts, but you knew better than to fall for it. you saw him studying in the library, walking the halls, relaxing in the quad, always surrounded by a crowd of adoring fans — all vying for his attention. what a shame you never found out that you were the one who managed to catch his eye.

boo seungkwan as the classmate you tutor. he’s the one who pretended to struggle in chemistry just so he could get closer to you. soon enough quiet afternoons in the library ended with nights at a karaoke bar, singing your hearts out to hits from the 2000s. you always knew he liked you. he never knew you liked him back, and your newfound friendship became much too valuable to risk. as the semester drew to a close, so did chances of a relationship.

wen junhui as the barista at your favorite cafe. he’s the one who spelled your name right on the first try and remembered your order by the third visit. the only one who greeted you with a smile as you entered the door — not a forced, practiced smile, but a genuine one. his voice was as soothing as the cups of tea he made on nights you couldn’t sleep. however, you could never recall a time you saw him outside the cafe.

kwon soonyoung as the dance partner. he was the teaching assistant in your social dancing class. the butterflies in your stomach went wild each time he laughed off you stepping on his feet, when you felt how tightly he grasped your hand in his, whenever he looked into your eyes. for some reason, you thought he had fallen for you just as you had for him. that idea was crushed when you saw him dancing with somebody else, their bodies in sync the way yours and his could never be.

jeon wonwoo as the college sweetheart. he’s the one you mistakenly thought would last. you remember all the early morning coffee runs and late night drives, cramming sessions in the library, holding hands underneath the table, dancing in the rain, his sweaters smelling like him, lazy sundays talking about the future. it was the kind of love you fought for, but fate had different plans.

kim mingyu as the next door neighbor. living on your own would’ve been dreadful had he not been there. did you need an extra cup of sugar for some cookies? he’ll bring one over and even bake with you. are you going away for a trip? don’t worry he’ll water your plants and feed your fish, making sure they’re the healthiest they can be. something broke? he’s more than willing to fix it himself or call someone who can if he’s unable to. which is why you wish he never moved away, leaving you with nothing but a letter and a quieter apartment.

choi seungcheol as the coworker. your first job was a nightmare, but he was the one who made everything much more tolerable. he made sure you ate properly, never overworked yourself to the point of exhaustion, offered you a ride home when it was too late to take the bus, sent you a smile during early morning meetings. he became your rock during some of the toughest months of your life, what a shame he had to be transferred somewhere else.

lee seokmin as the one that got away. he should’ve been it. hadn’t it been for the timing, the distance, every other little circumstance that eventually built up to be too much. you could’ve had it all. you loved each other and for the longest time you swore it would be enough. but with his life in the spotlight and yours out of it, the end was almost inevitable. maybe in another life things could be different, but neither of you would ever get the chance to know.

lee jihoon as the endgame. he’s the one you met much later on in life, but little did either of you know that your paths were always meant to cross. he’s always been there, waiting in the sidelines. he attended the class after yours, entered the cafe just as you were about to leave, lived in the apartment three floors above you, worked in the building located a couple of streets from your office. the reason why every single heartache eventually became worth it, because they all lead to him — the one who ended up staying.

[taglist is open for the entire series or specific member/s ! just send in an ask or a dm]

note; this will be bulleted scenarios bec i feel like it would be the most feasible for me to do with the other wips i have for this blog. ren — i hear you ask — if you have a ton of wips, why start another series? listen, my brain decided to fart out this idea at three in the morning and what was i supposed to do? say no? ajhsskh and it’s february wc is the month of ~love~ so no better time than this one ig? again,, no update schedule for this one but chan’s will most likely be up on his bday (not sure on vernon’s and seokmin’s that depends on how quickly i can crank these out shdjasn) ! <33

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

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Nice to meet you, where you been?

Chapter 2 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Reader becomes acquainted with some members of the BAU.

Warnings: none that I can think of!

Word Count: ~1900

Penny came back out to the foyer, handing you the oversized t-shirt and shorts you left here last time you slept over. You pulled them on quickly, following Penny to the living room where you instantly realized, it was more than just you, Penny, and the tall man in the apartment. You stopped moving as you took in the additional new faces. You had never met Penny’s team before, but she had talked about them a ton. You blushed again thinking of how you must look a mess right now.

“Everyone, this is Y/N! She is my very best friend and she is very sad so we are going to cheer her up.” Penny started the introductions. “Y/N, this is Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau aka JJ, and Emily Prentiss.” You took in the names as Penny went around the room. Eyes bouncing between a very muscular bald man and two of the most attractive women you’ve ever seen. “Oh, and for a more formal introduction, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, although you two met at the door.” Your eyes attempted to meet his again, but he was staring at the ground. You couldn’t help the whisper that escaped your lips “Doctor.”

Either the profilers didn’t hear it, or chose to ignore it, along with the blush forming on your cheeks yet again. You looked around the room again and couldn’t stop yourself from speaking your thoughts. “God, is it a requirement to be hot as hell to work for the FBI?” Everyone laughed as you threw your hand over your mouth, eyes widening. “Oh God. That’s embarrassing. It’s true though, what a good looking team.” That earned more laughter form the group.

It was clear they were all wondering why you had just sobbed into their coworkers adorable sweater vest. You waited a beat hoping someone would say something. But since they were all staring at you, and you hate awkward silences, you couldn’t help but blurt out “today was my 3 year anniversary with my boyfriend,” Not noticing the slight frown appear on Spencer’s face, you continued “but I went over to his place and found him in bed with another woman. So now I am very drunk.” Their faces all softened, offering slight words of encouragement as you sunk into the sofa and picked up the bottle of white wine from the table. Not even bothering with a glass, you started drinking again. You drank nearly half the bottle before taking a breath.

“Woah” you heard someone say, but honestly you didn’t know who. “Why don’t we play a game or something? Maybe switch to water so you don’t completely hate yourself tomorrow?” You realized it was JJ talking. “I am always down – hiccup – for a game. I must warn you, I am extremely competitive though. Plus, I don’t get hungover so I’ll be fine.” You looked at their disbelieving faces. “Fine” you muttered, annoyed at having to explain this again, “I’ll switch to water for a bit. But only because I want to win.”

Penny went to get the cards, confirming your statement “Y/N is right ya know. She has never been hungover. I’ve seen her drink countless tequila shots, chase them each with a wine cooler and clean her entire apartment before 8 AM the next day.”

“Impressive.” Derek smirked as he looked at you.

“What can I say? It really boosts my productivity.” The room chuckled as the hot doctor chimed in.

“Your liver is responsible for breaking down all the alcohol you consume into an enzyme called acetaldehyde, the toxin responsible for hangovers. Recent studies have shown about 23% of people are able to break down the acetaldehyde much faster resulting in little to no hangover symptoms. Whether or not you experience hangovers is based 45% on genetics.” You looked over to him, wildly impressed with the first words you’ve heard him say.

“What’s the other 55% based on?” You asked, intrigued to finally know why you don’t actually experience hangovers. He looked surprised as he met your eyes for the first time since you entered the room.

“It’s actually a mixture of volume of alcohol, water, and food consumption.” You chuckled as he said this.

“Well, it must be genetics for me because there are a few times I remember making very bad choices…” You felt the thought slip away as Dr. Spencer Reid smiled at you.

“How can she even do simple math right now? Based on the story she’s had 10 drinks in the last 3 hours?” Emily whispered to JJ and Derek. They exchanged glances as Penny finally sat back down with the cards.

“What should we play?” She asked the room, but mostly you. You could already feel your competitive edge creeping in as you tore your eyes from Spencer’s to suggest one of your favorite group games. “Egyptian Rat Screw!” It should be especially fun since you were all drinking. Nobody seemed to know the game though, so you quickly explained the rules as you took the cards to shuffle and deal.

“Remember, whoever gets all the cards wins. Slap sandwiches and doubles. Royals have the special rules we just talked about. If you slap and there’s nothing there, you have to put a card in the bottom of the pile.” You said as everyone got situated around the table unsure what to expect. “Ready?” you asked, a mischievous grin on your face.

After winning the first two games you couldn’t help but tease everyone “I am definitely the drunkest one here. I thought a group of FBI agents would have better reaction times!” You giggled as everyone laughed along with you. You dealt the cards into five piles, one for each agent. “No cards for you?” Derek asked. “Nope.” You popped the “p” as you took in their confused faces. “I’m going to start with no cards and see if I still win.” There was a clear competitive glint in your eyes, with a matching smirk. They seemed disbelieving that you would pull out another win, but continued along with the game.

You hadn’t even tried slapping the table until there was only Spencer and Derek left with cards. Emily, JJ, and Penelope were chatting aimlessly, having lost interest a few minutes ago. You sat up and stared at the ever growing pile of cards. The whole game was basically memorizing the order of cards, or at least the general timeline. You knew as soon as Derek played his jack, Spencer would follow with an identical card. As you spotted the first jack hit the pile, Derek taunted Spencer “Haha pretty boy, one chance to get a royal or I’m pulling in the big pile.” The two of them seemed to have forgotten that you could get back in the game. Spencer smiled as he flipped over what you knew to be a jack. It was clear from the smirk on his face he knew it was a jack as well. What he didn’t count on was your cat-like reflexes slapping the pile before he could finish laughing at Derek’s sad face.

The two of them looked shocked as you picked up the cards, readying them for the next set of flipping. “Damn girl, I thought you forgot how to play.” Derek laughed at the smug grin you were wearing. He only had two cards left. Easily knocking Derek from the game, he joined the side conversation being had in the kitchen as he resigned to another round lost. You turned to Spencer, almost whispering “Looks like it’s just you and me, Doctor.” Spencer looked up from his cards stating, “you sound pretty confident considering your opponent has an eidetic memory and knows the exact order of both our hands.” You stuck your tongue out as you placed your first card. “Not fair.”

Minutes passed as the game drew on, neither player really making an advance. You yawned as you flipped another card onto the table, losing focus for just a second. Reid recognized the pattern emerging, getting ready to slap after your next card. You forgot to look at the potential for a sandwich, playing your next card. You noticed it a second to late as you slapped your hand down. Spencer beat you too it though, and when your hand landed it was on top of his. You didn’t move at first, shocked to have lost so many cards at once. Spencer was gloating as you picked up his hand and put it on top of yours.

He finally looked down to see you pulling the cards toward you before jumping up to get them back. You held the cards close to your heart, faking the offense you felt at his suggestion that you would cheat, despite your very obvious cheating. When he reached for the cards, you backed up into the couch, holding them above your head. He knelt over you, leaning forward to reach your outstretched hand, forgetting for just a second that he really didn’t know you at all and being this close should make him uncomfortable.

You shrieked as he tickled your sides to pull the cards in. He was gloating yet again as he pulled them from your grasp, not realizing how close the two of you had become. The two of you froze yet again as you felt that same magnetic force as earlier pulling you closer as you looked into his eyes. He cleared his through as he sat up, returning to his seat to finish the game.

The two of you continued the game until you only had a few cards left. “It appears as though your winning streak is quickly coming to an end.” Spencer joked with you, playing a queen. He was clearly trying to ease whatever tension was lingering from your couch experience. You glanced at the cards in the middle of the table. It must have been 45 cards in the pile. You switched tactics to playing the cards as quick as possible to prevent another mistake.

A queen meant playing two cards in a row. You knew you had two sevens in a row in your hand, so you were ready to take him down. You glanced up stating “Rule 1: The Doctor lies.” You stated matter-of-factly as you flipped over your first seven. “Oh, and don’t blink.” You said, playing the second and slapping it before he finished comprehending your two Doctor Who references. You just had an instinctual feeling that Doctor Who would distract him.

You finished the game with relative ease as the others made their way back into the room. You celebrated as you took the rest of his cards, completing the game and adding another tally to the mental scoreboard you had in your head. As everyone sat back down, you put the cards away. It was now 12:30 in the morning and suddenly you were exhausted. You rose from your seat, putting your coat back on your shoulders. “I should go home” you said, earning stares from everyone.

“You are completely welcome to stay the night here!” Penelope said as you continued preparing to leave.

“Thank you, Penelope, but I already feel so much better.” You chanced a glance at Spencer to see him staring right back. “I want to go home and lay in my bed and throw all his stuff out the window. Plus I could really use some fresh air right now.” Everyone started to verbally object now. Sometimes you forgot what Penelope does for a living and how much she’s seen. “No really, I’ll be fine.” You continued, “I live in The City Block, it’s only half a mile from here!” This did nothing to satisfy the worried looks on the five faces staring back at you.

“That’s on the way to my building.” Spencer stated. “I’ll walk with you, okay?” You looked up, surprised. Slowly a small smile appeared on your face. “Okay.” Somehow that was all you could manage. Everyone said their goodbyes as you and Spencer made your way out of the apartment and started walking down the street.

tag list:

@mac99martin @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader

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dawsons-justice · 3 years

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He Promised, You Trusted.

Part Two to “I Promise, You Trust”

A/N: Reader is between 14-17, so this is a Father Figure!Antonio x Reader. No romance, 100% platonic.

TW: Nothing horribly graphic, some mild angst, but mostly just to lead up to the fluff

Masterlist

It sure was cold outside. Chicago had been cold, but Minnesota somehow was colder. Your aunt had apologized she couldn't pick you up from school but it wasn't really her fault. She had to pick up some extra shifts to keep up with the bills. You're just glad she let you stay with her. 8 months ago, you really had no idea where you would end up.

8 months ago...

Detective Dawson ran off to make some calls, leaving you to your own thoughts. You noticed the worried glances of his coworkers watching you from the unit floor. You didn’t know any of them, they were all sorta intimidating in their own way, well, except for the woman with brown hair, she looked nice. It just felt better to block them out and focus on the mug in your hands. The hot chocolate had gotten cold in the time it took you to process everything and really you haven’t truly processed anything.

Dawson came back in the room, his face muddled with several emotions. There was some stress, determination and anger but you made out the sympathy on his features most of all. Most people don't want sympathy, but you were just glad someone was caring enough to do so. Trailing behind him was another cop, older, you'd seen him before, just didn't know his name.

"You got anyone we can call?" Antonio asks. you had to wrack your brain a bit. It hadn’t occurred to you that this would be important. "I have an aunt. I haven't talked to her in years. My dad and her don't get along."

The two men exchanged a glance. And you understood now. If you didn't find a home yourself, they'd have to put you in a group home. That was not good. You had heard stories, everyone has. Group homes only provide shelter to trouble. If you ended up there who knows what would happen to you after. You hadn’t thought this through, this was a bad idea. In some sort of a desperate plea, you grab the detective’s hand as he’s about the leave with the other guy.

"Wait no no... I can't live in a home. I can't. I'd rather go home to my dad. Please no." Panic evident in your voice. His face softens, kneeling down to your height. He was just going to try to comfort you. You forced yourself to remember whatever he says can’t change the truth. He isn’t the one making the rules. You’re not naive.

"Hey, hey kiddo. Not there yet, let's give your aunt a ring and see if we can get ahold of her. You got a name?" His voice calm, if he was worried you really couldn’t tell now, unlike when he first returned. You gave her name, not knowing anything besides she lived in St. Paul. But they were cops, you figured they could track her down.

The other guy, Voight, left, you heard him call out to someone named Halstead to run your aunt's name. Antonio didn’t move, just kept holding your hand looking around as if he wasn’t. The fact we seemed unbothered by the comforting gesture put you more at ease, yet you still were struggling with this.

"B-but what if she doesn't want me?"

There was a look of disbelief in his face, as if you were made of solid gold. It was fake and you knew it, still, it was comforting. "We're gonna figure it out, ok? I'll tell her myself what a great kid you are."

"I'm sorry."

The detective didn’t have to say anything, but you knew he deflected your apology. Somehow you just knew the minute you said it what his response was going to be. He didn’t feel bothered. And on top of this it was going to work out. He would make sure it worked out.

And it did. Given the explanation of the situation, your Aunt was happy to take you in. Antonio pulled some strings and you spent one night with his colleague Kim Burgess (the woman with the brown hair) before your aunt took over custody. In less than 48 hours you were on your way to Minnesota with a bag you packed and your dad had no clue. For once you knew there was at least one person who was worth trusting in this world.

The snow crunched below your feet. It was only another mile or so to your aunt’s place. The roads were pretty clear. Much of the snow had been packed down for days, but a recent heatwave melted and refroze the roads to solid ice. The deceiving snow was only an inch or two thick on top of the slick icy layer beneath. So, when you hear tires squeal, it is not in any way surprising. You were learning to drive yourself; ice roads were something that even your aunt had trouble managing let alone teach you how to navigate. You had respect for anyone who was able to successfully manage those roads in two-wheel drive. Whipping around, there’s not a two-ton car sliding towards you as you had expected, planning to dive roll into the snow. There’s a black van with a guy in a ski mask running towards you.

Crap.

Taking advantage of the ice, you threw your backpack at him, hoping he’d lose his balance and walk onto the more slippery road. Yet things do not go to plan as he easily recovers and continues to pursue you, reaching you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You fought. You screamed, wailed, bit, flailed, kicked and every other defensive action your subconscious could think of. It didn’t work, he was just too much bigger than you. You were thrown into the back of the van.

no no no no no this can’t be happening.

You considered yourself a calm person, but that was before you were tied and gagged in the back of a van. The darkness seemed to only escalate your fears as you had a blank canvas to imagine your worst nightmares becoming reality. "Please, just let me go” you must have said it 40 times before something heavy hit your head.

Things faded in and out. Darkness and light fought a battle, but you could never really tell if you could see or not, it was all just shadows. The nausea was also coming in waves, paired with the throbbing sensation on the back of your head. You had been pistol whipped. But of course, you didn’t know that. The sheer terror of the entire situation still had you disoriented. You couldn’t feel the time pass, most people know what a minute or five minutes feels like, but you couldn’t focus. It was all too much.

When the van doors slide open you hear the guy who grabbed you talk to whoever was driving. “I still can’t believe this guy.” His gruff voice scoffed, close by.

“Well, he had the money, who are we to judge.”

“Guy? Had someone hired them to take me? Was I about to be sold or something?”

You’re embarrassed to say the next voice you heard brought you half a millisecond of comfort, it was misplaced. “You had to put a sack over her head?” It was your dad. How? Better question why would he ask that question though he had no emotion in his voice.

The men and your dad talk as you wrestle with this entire shock. Suddenly someone picks you up and carries you over their shoulder. You figured it was guy who grabbed you, but feeling that whoever was holding you gently lowered you to the floor, you made the new assumption it was your dad. The blindfold and gag came off in a quick motion. You were met with the hollow face of your father in some sort of abandoned room. He gave a sickening smile, one that brought no relief with it. “I brought you back sugar!”

“Dad, let me go.”

He nodded and started to undo your restraints. It couldn’t be this easy. Taking a moment, he was preoccupied with removing the duct tape glue from your arms, as if he cared, you jumped up, running across the room to open the metal door, but it was locked.

“Open the door, dad.”

“Y-you’ll just leave.” He whimpered, face looking offended.

This wasn’t your dad. The eyes were too hopeful and the demeanor was too caring. This was you dad having some sort of a mental breakdown. The pieces came together as you watched the tremors in his hands. Not knowing the man in front of you felt more terrifying than the man you ran away from. Before, you knew somewhere buried deep in his subconscious he would never seriously harm you beyond some bruises. But you stared into eyes you didn’t recognize. It was entirely possible he was going to kill you. All of that mess 8 months ago just to end up dying in Chicago and nobody knows about it.

But that’s where you were wrong.

Within a 25 mile radius…

“Detective Dawson,”

The somewhat uncaring police deputy at St. Paul started running down the situation. There wasn’t much to tell. Your backpack was found in a snowbank near some blood in the snow with you nowhere to be found. Your aunt had been adamant that the deputy at the front desk reach Antonio. And of course, the detective roped his unit into the situation. Voight made it a priority. It didn’t take a psychologist to see that Antonio cared about you, he cared about all his teen CIs. They were his secondary kids. He would find you, even if he hadn’t promised you to do so. He promised himself. When word had come in that your dad had been behind the entire situation it was not much of a shock. A man with a past of petty crime and domestic abuse with mental health concerns did seem like a high probability suspect. He had also rented out a storage container on the industrial side of town. Antonio and his team suited up. He was going to end this situation here and now.

“CHICAGO PD OPEN THE DOOR”

In a frenzied craze, your father throws you to the floor. It would make sense for him to run, but logic wasn’t a key factor right now. His foot goes to your neck and the gun points to your head. The gun must have been on his back, you hadn’t seen it until now.

I don’t want to die.

Not like this.

Not here.

Please no.

Please.

Bursting through the door you make out several people with weapons drawn on your dad. Light floods the dark room leaving the two of you partially blind, yet the tension still filled the air.

“LET HER GO.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. Regardless, your neck was still being crushed. Air was slowly waning from your lungs. And then it wasn’t. In an instant you felt his foot roll out from over you, giving you a chance to scramble away.

“Y/N, Y/N, it’s ok. We’re police.”

And that was likely the only time anyone from your side of town was happy to hear that phrase. But still, you couldn’t quite comprehend it. It was a full mess of tears, screaming, wailing and shaking. You had been mere seconds from death by gun or choking, you couldn’t just suck it up. Not even you were that badass. Nonetheless, the cops weren’t getting anywhere with calming you down.

“Call an ambo.” Calls another voice, a woman. “Tonio, you ok?”

“Yeah” And under normal circumstances you would have connected the dots, but as it has already been overly reiterated, you were not stable right now. The only thing you could register was the familiar hand on top of yours gently squeezing your arm below.

“Shhh shhh, it’s ok kiddo, we got you. He’s gone.”

Hold it, you know that voice.

And what would you know, you finally grasped it. Staring down at you is Detective Dawson, once again saving your neck, literally. It was probably against some rule, but you just buried your head in his shoulder trying to block out everything outside. He let it slide, just holding you there, seemingly not in any rush to move you till the paramedics arrived. In time you realized the other officer trying to calm you down had been Burgess, but you just hadn’t recognized her. You’re in pain, but not horrendous amounts, must be the adrenaline. Regardless, Antonio calls another officer, Atwater, to carry you outside to the ambulance. Before you know it, the ambo is driving away from the scene to Chicago Med, leaving the Intelligence Unit to deal with the aftermath including Dawson.

Sitting in the ER, you wait for test results to return on your head scan. More had happened in the last 12 hours than in the last 8 months. You realized how much you liked the simplicity and (relative) safety of Minnesota, but now you’d at least carry pepper spray. You’re pulled from your thoughts as you see Dawson peak from the side of the curtains. You had not felt too lonely or afraid before given the officers stationed outside your room, but seeing him made you feel better.

“Hey kiddo, how’s the neck?” he smiles, moving into the room slowly as if he was trying not to scare you.

You smile weakly, still exhausted. “Alright, considering.” You noticed tape on the base of his neck on one side extending underneath his shirt where you couldn’t see. “What happened?”

“I might be getting a little long in the tooth for tackling suspects.” And by suspects, you knew he meant your dad. He was the one who got him off you. “Are you ok?” You ask. “All good, just had to get my shoulder checked out.”

“Ok, glad you’re ok.” And you truly were. You would feel awful if you had been the reason he had been seriously injured, especially after you were supposed to be out of his hair.

He nods, fiddling with his hands on the rail at the end of your bed. “Hey, your aunt is on her way to get you, it’s gonna be awhile, but I talked to your doctor and they said they’ll keep you till she arrives to monitor your concussion.”

You nod. “My dad?”

“We got him, he’s going away for a long time.” You notice his lack of enthusiasm in that response, obviously thinking that justice had not been fully served.

“But not forever.” Your voice soft, barely over a whisper.

He shook his head. “Long enough you’re not going to need to worry about him.”

“But you’ll come rescue me again if he tries, right?” You cocked an eyebrow, knowing it wasn’t a promise he could make, but every reassuring thing he told you made you feel better anyways.

“As much as I love the job, I don’t know if I’m going to be on the force in 40 years.”

“Yeah, you might not be able to a shoot a gun while using a walker with tennis balls on the bottom.” The two of you laugh a bit at that visualization.

As you quiet down you notice he looks a bit more serious.“But yeah, I’ll get you.”

Once again, probably against some protocol, but you just had to reach out and hug him burying your face in his leather jacket. He leans forward to pull you in. Something about it was just natural, you knew he’d protect you, you knew that now.

“Thank you so much. I’d be dead.”

“Of course,” He pets your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“T-thank you for caring.” He pulls back to look you in the eyes.

“I checked your record, no priors since you left. Thank you for being worth it.” He smiles.

The two of you sit there for a minute, staring at each other, his hand still the (good) side of your head. You’d never really had a dad moment like this, but if this was the first and last dad moment you ever had, you were ok with it. It was perfect. He stands up, stretching out his back as if he’s about to leave. But instead, he pulls up a chair.

“You don’t mind if I stick around till your aunt arrives do you?”

You gently shook your head. Truth was, you were too afraid to ask him to do so, but of course, somehow, he knew what you needed. So there the two of you sat. Talking about the extremely normal things you had been involved in back in Minnesota. You swear he kept a small smile on his face the entire time. Just happy to see you moving on. It was done.

When you turned 18, you reached out the Antonio again and asked if he would be willing to meet up for lunch, now that it was “legal” to do so. And now it has become an annual event with occasional bonus trips when you somehow wind up in the Windy City. Your lives may have grown apart in distance but something would always keep the two of you together. He’d always be there for you, and you needed that. Maybe not everyone needs a perfect father figure to survive in the world, but knowing a tough boxing detective would be by your side in one phone call gave you the freedom of safety. Your aunt is an amazing woman, but Antonio Dawson is really the one who you owe everything to.

He promised, you trusted, and it was the first decision of your life that truly mattered.

A/N: I know my presence on this account is sporadic, but I hope some people enjoy this. I’m going to dive into my drafts to work on some of the partially written responses I have for some old requests. (:

#antonio dawson #antonio dawson x reader #Chicago PD #one chicago #antonio dawson imagines #antonio dawson imagine #antonio dawson baby #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic

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psycheshorror · 3 years

Text

“Shut Up”

pairing: MCU!Brock Rumlow x reader

summary: smutty smut smut with tons of cursing. rough sex.

authors note: I’m new to the whole writing scene, critiques appreciated!

part two

God, Brock was so pretty when he finally shut the fuck up.

It started off small. Working as an assistant for Maria Hill meant you had to schedule debriefing meetings, hunt down agents for completed mission reports, and occasionally make small talk with the big guys - Captain Rogers and you were on first name basis and sometimes he even brought you coffee when turning in his reports. Neatly written, filled out properly, never a second late and somehow the coffee always tasted like it was just brewed.

But Brock Rumlow was something else.

Always wearing a shit-eating grin when he saw you, brown eyes full of amusement as he watched you disdainfully pluck the report out of his large hands. Messy as fuck handwriting as per usual, and no matter how many times you told him to remember to be thorough, there was always a detail missing that didn’t line up with the rest of his teammates. And no matter how small it was, it meant the process had to start all over again.

You tried to remain professional, but you were at your wits end. You wanted to be like Maria. Maria never gets her feathers ruffled, and sure as hell doesn’t over paperwork, but goddamn if it didn’t require a miracle for Brock’s report to be correct the first time around.

“Hey honey,” he said, mouth curling up into a catlike grin.

“Rumlow,” you acknowledged, trying desperately to keep your eyes fixated on your computer screen, almost effectively ignoring the flutter in your chest at the pet name. You reached for your coffee mug and frowned when the now-cold liquid hit your lips.

Licking your bottom lip when a stray drop threatened to dribble down your chin, you swore you heard the 6”4 man purr.

A shuffle in your peripheral vision and your desk creaking, you couldn’t help but to now look into the eyes of the absolute brick house of a man.

Both large hands placed flat against the edges of your desk, leaning down, he was only a few inches away from your face now. You could feel his breath on your lips and much to your embarrassment, felt a familiar stirring in your core.

“Do you wanna fuck?”

“Wh- what-“

All of a sudden he was chuckling, head bowing down to look at the floor and you could almost see a shyness you’ve never seen the agent express - ever. But then when he looked back at you, pupils blown wide and a different kind of smirk, you knew at that moment you were a goner.

Brock Rumlow was a wolf and you were a sitting duck, waiting to be eaten.

And eaten you were.

Brock currently had his face in between your legs, tongue mercilessly working your clit as his large fingers pumped into you. Threading your fingers in his hair, you cried out as the coil in your core wrapped so tight that you thought you were gonna die. Just a few more seconds and -

Brock’s head popped up and his fingers slid out to slap your pussy and you almost sobbed. “Brock!!” you whined, embarrassed at the desperation in your voice.

“Did I fucking say you could cum?” he gritted out, hands on your hips and fingers digging so hard in the flesh you knew there would be bruises the next day.

“You motherfucker-“ you yelped when you were suddenly face down into the mattress. Brock’s strength was insane on the field - you knew from

his bio that he built a reputation as being a huge asset to S.H.I.E.L.D., but you never expected it to creep into bed with him as well.

Well, you never expected to be in bed with him in general, but life is full of happy surprises, isn’t it?

You could feel Brock rutting against your ass, cock hard in his tactical pants. One hand firmly placed on the small of your back to hold you down, the other finding it’s way in your hair, tugging firmly. Nothing could have prepared you for how goddamn hot that was.

“Name calling ain’t nice, sweetheart,” he said, breath quickening as his hips rolled into your ass at a brutish pace.

“You’re gonna have to pay the price,” he whispered in your ear before licking the shell of it. You shivered, arousal completely dominating your mind and body. Fuck, you shouldn’t be wet for Brock Rumlow. You felt a tinge of guilt for Steve. You should be in bed with the guy that brought you coffee, not the one who couldn’t file a report properly because he simply didn’t care to.

A harsh slap on your bare ass brought you back to the situation at hand. You moaned as the hand in your hair switched to pinching your right nipple. Twisting hard, your eyes fluttered shut at the new feeling. You’ve never had it rough like this, but damn you were missing out.

You could feel your core starting to coil once more, on the precipice of orgasm just from Brock manhandling you and his covered cock rubbing against your cheeks.

“You like it rough, you little slut?” Another harsh slap from his right hand almost sent you over the edge. You moaned as his cock twitched in his pants, and knew how desperate he was for his own orgasm.

“I asked you a fuckin’ question,” he grunted, hands leaving your body to undo his belt and zipper. Your pussy quaked with the promise of being thoroughly fucked.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Now shut the fuck up and fuck me, Rumlow.”

You could feel the smile against your neck before he bit you, the full length of his cock slipping in until he completely buried himself in your core. You both almost keeled from pleasure.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good around my cock,” he groaned, dark eyelashes fluttering closed as he experimentally thrusted into you, almost savoring the sensation.

“Gotta let me fuck you all the time, I don’t know if I can get enough.” Finally slamming into you, you knew what true pleasure felt like.

“Rumlow,” you cried, tears prickling out the corners of your eyes as you angled yourself against him to feel his cock hit that perfect, magic spot in your pussy that made you see stars. He was merciless with his pace, his large hands digging into your hips once more, forcing you to take his full length and force at once.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours should have made you feel embarrassed. You weren’t supposed to be playing hanky panky with any of your coworkers, nonetheless an agent, but how were you supposed to resist his advances with his pretty brown eyes and that sultry smile?

And now with his cock buried so deeply inside of you, how could you ever stop?

He angled his hips upwards and you felt the underside of his shaft brush against your clit thrice and you were sent into one of the most powerful orgasms you have ever had.

Brock moaned feeling your walls close in on his cock and tugged your hair as you rode the waves of your orgasm. You cried when he slapped your ass, hard, and kept thrusting into you like his life depended on it. Your hands were shaking and you could barely keep your legs open, your orgasm turning you into a throbbing, helpless mess.

He came after a minute of reckless thrusting, the kind that said “I’m drunk off of sex” without anyone explicitly having to say it out loud. Spilling hot cum inside of you, you could feel him moan and a wave of pride washed over you. You could get used to hearing this more often.

Brock sighed and he gently kissed the dark marks he left on your neck, caressing your back and hushing your whimpers when he pulled out of your aching pussy.

Lips barely ghosting the angry red marks his hands left on your ass, he gingerly massaged your hips where he could see the bruises already forming.

After soft touches and tender kisses, he flipped you over, this time slowly as if you were the most valuable thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

You could feel your heart swelling with affection when you saw his eyes were now full of pure satisfaction. Hush now, feelings.

It was just good, rough sex. No need to make it anything other than that.

“Gotta say, honey,” he said, voice still coated with lust as he tucked his body against yours, pulling the sheets over both of you.

“I’m glad I can finally stop fucking up mission reports.”

“You bastard!” you exclaimed, laughing wildly as he curled a forearm around your waist. “I can’t count how many times I’ve had to make you redo your reports.”

“Well, I tried to get your attention, but you were all business,” he chuckled, nose nuzzling in your hair.

“So I figured, I’m just gonna ask. And I didn’t think you were gonna say yes.”

“Ask and you shall receive,” you yawned, feeling the fatigue of the wild sex start to creep into your bones. Eyes almost fluttering closed, you basked in the warmth of the big, muscly body behind you.

“Well, since you mentioned it... can I get an extension on this next report?”

“Not a chance.” You grinned, just before dozing off.

#brock rumlow #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow fanfiction #brock rumlow / reader #fanfic #marvel

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meltwonu · 3 years

Text

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 | [CHAPTER 12]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, sex toys, overstimulation, tiniest mentions of daddy!kink, a lil bit of a filler chapter!, this is the most btsvt chapter that it’ll ever get so i’m sorry if you dont like that!! 😭😭, a bit of a lighthearted chapter too tbh to ease everyone back into cherry bomb! 💕 I know its been like two fuckin weeks since the last update which is honestly insane to me! I almost couldnt remember where we even left off lmao kdjfhds 😩💕💕 Thank you for being so patient with me and waiting it out while we had two weeks of Monster Mash! Starting Monday, I’m gonna be going back to my normal posting schedule! 💕 have a great rest of the weekend, yall! 🍒

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - ?

“Wait, seriously? You want to work here? But--but I thought you were from out of town?”

Jun’s eyes light up with excitement; fingertips crushing the resume you passed to him moments prior. “Um, well, there was a change of plans… and I’d really like to work somewhere where I have a friend! If you guys are still hiring, that is...” You reply back meekly.

It’d taken you all morning to write up a resume, blushing a little when you realize most of your income had been from camming. It’d also made you pause for a moment when you realized that it meant Jun would also know your real name too; as well as everyone who came through the diner and all of your coworkers.

“Yeah, of course! I, um, just give me a second to pass this to my manager, okay? I’ll be sure to put in a good word!” Jun shoots you a wink before he turns to leave.

You take the opportunity to sit down at a nearby booth, fishing for your phone to text Seungcheol.

‘I think I might be getting the job!!’

cheollie ✨: oh? Not that I doubted you, but is it confirmed already?

‘Mm… Jun is trying to put in a word for me! But I’m confident!’

cheollie ✨: thats my baby ;)

You hear someone call your name hesitantly, only to find Jun standing a few feet away looking at you sheepishly. “Um, sorry, your name’s on the resume so I figured…”

“Oh! Yeah, it’s fine!” You awkwardly giggle. “I figured writing ‘Cherry’ as my name wouldn’t be too smart when you need to cross-reference my ID if I get the job.” Jun laughs as he takes the seat across from you in the booth, papers in hand.

“Well, I convinced my manager to let me interview you. Told him that if we’d be workin’ together that I’d want to scope you out for myself! He bought it, can you believe it!?” Grinning, he sets your crumpled resume down next to a small stack of papers. “I don’t doubt you’d pull your weight around here but I do have to ask… Why here of all places? I thought your, uh, other job was enough? Or I guess I assumed...” You bite your lip, flip-flopping on whether or not you wanted to let him know exactly what happened that led to your sudden decision.

“Um… There were just some big life changes I had to make on the fly and I’ll be living around here now! I’m trying out some new things… I also figured if I worked with you, then you’d know my schedule the best too! And you seem like a really nice and cool guy.”

Jun nods, smiling back at you.

“You got that right!”

“You’re seriously going to start working there?” Jeongguk raises a brow, cables in hand as he sets up the extra PC in his streaming room. “And the guy working there knows you? That doesn’t bother you?”

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, “Yeah and he knows me now too. And knows I’d kick his ass if he tried anything.” You pout from your place in the expensive gaming chair; eyes focused on Jeongguk who shimmies under the desk to start plugging in the cables.

“Well, yeah he does know me, but he’s also one of my regulars and knows the schedules I’ll need, so I think we can trust him!” They both nod and Seungcheol is quick to cross the small room until he’s right behind you.

“He seems like a nice guy though, I don’t think we have to worry.”

Jeongguk slides out from underneath the desk, dusting off his pants as he stands. “And if he does end up being a weirdo, there’s always a place for you at the roller rink!”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, hands gripping onto the backrest of the chair.

“No.”

“Hey guys, welcome back to Golden Closet Gaming! I’m JK, your regular host! Today, we have a suuuper special guest! Why don’t you introduce yourself, pretty lady~”

You take a deep breath as you lean in close to the mic; somewhat nervous and a little out of your usual element. “Hi everyone~ I’m Cherry! Some of you may know me from, um, the other side of the streaming-sphere but I’m joining my friend today in hopes of boosting our channels together and having a ‘lil bit of fun!!”

Seungcheol sits at the side as he watches the two of you; a small smile painted on his lips at the way the two of you seem to fall into your characters easily despite the somewhat different platforms and influx of different viewers.

The sound of donations and comments pour in a lot quicker than Jeongguk, himself, is used to; eyes wide and eyebrows raised as he pauses to watch them flood the screen.

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

xcaliburDK has donated $100

sleepy_wonu: never thought i’d be donating here but here we are

xcaliburDK: i was always a silent watcher but u kno i had to donate for my favorite girl!

seokGENIE: i feel like i’m entitled to something for taking your shift so i wont be donating, sorry pretty girl

j__min: can’t believe this kid got a collab with you before i did :(

j__min has donated $200

dtsug__a: i dont normally watch streams either but im curious

Jeongguk laughs, still in disbelief as the donations continue to pour in from a combination of your viewers and his. He always made a decent amount from his viewers but he couldn’t deny the pull you had from your viewers as well. “Wow, um okay, my donations are adding up a lot quicker than they usually do. That’s… Hey, whaddya say to streaming with me regularly?” He jokes.

A shy laugh bubbles up your throat; ears and cheeks burning hot at the idea. You had never collabed with any other streamer before and despite your initial hesitance and unsureness, you too, were shocked to find how well the two of you were doing without your usual content.

“Erm, I’m not very good at gaming though… I don’t think your viewers would like it very much...”

seokGENIE: thats ok jk sucks at gaming too, it wouldnt be too different

j__min: lmao fkjdhf

dtsug__a: does he get roasted often on this channel? If so i’ll be tuning in more often

dtsug__a has donated $100

dtsug__a: for your troubles, pretty gal

“On second thought, let’s let this be a special occasion, huh? Maybe collabs for the holiday, Cherry?” Jeongguk grumbles and Seungcheol has to bite his lip to keep in his laughs from his side of the small room. You start to feel more and more comfortable at the lighthearted atmosphere; tucking a stray hair behind your ear before you lean in towards the mic again.

“Ah! Speaking of, don’t forget to tune into my camshow tomorrow~! JK and I will be gaming on there as well but… with some added fun to match my channel~! 21 and over only~” You blink at the computer screen, still a little unused to the idea that you weren’t technically being filmed. Although, it was a nice change for once; not needing to be all done up for a show and simply just talking to your viewers and reading comments.

sleepy_wonu: is dom daddy gonna be on the show too?

“Dom daddy? Oh you mean Se---”

“Yes! Kind of!” You cut off, laughing nervously. Nobody knew Seungcheol’s name except for Jun and you were trying to keep as much of him private as possible, until he was ready. “In a sense, he’ll be there! You guys will just have to tune in to find out!”

Jeongguk laughs into his own mic, scooting in closer to his desk as he loads up the game.

“I think that’s enough chatting for now, huh? Let’s get started! Tonight we’ll be playing Phasmophobia! We’ll be playing something more lighthearted on Cherry’s channel, as she requested. So tonight we’ll be playing something I picked out. You ready, baby?”

Seungcheol narrows his eyes, quietly taking a sip of his water.

“Ready when you are!”

“I gotta say, sweetheart, for someone who doesn’t play video games too often, you’re not too bad.” Seungcheol comments, nodding his head in amazement as the three of you exit Jeongguk’s PC room. He’d had a hard time keeping in his laughs as he watched from the side and he had to admit, you were even cuter when you were outside of your usual element.

“I have to agree with hyung, but maybe it was also the adrenaline and screaming that kept you goin’.”

The two males share a laugh as you pout and plop down onto Jeongguk’s living room sofa. “Hey, how were the numbers for tonight, by the way?” You ask quietly.

“Honestly? I think we made almost triple of what my channel usually sees. I know I don’t really make a ton off of my streams since I don’t really do anything, like, crazy but shit… Even I’m shocked at how much we made.”

Seungcheol’s lip ease into a smirk; Jeongguk really had no idea how much the two of you had made off of a couple videos alone.

“We still have one more stream to do and then we can just pool up the money and split it down the middle!”

Jeongguk nods, stretching as he sits himself down onto the other end of the sofa. “I’ll bring my spare PC stuff so we can set up a little early tomorrow, if that’s cool with you two? Maybe have some food before we get started too ‘cause god knows I’m gonna be starving.” You look to Seungcheol who nods and checks his phone for the time.

“Yeah, we need to set up the cameras and lighting a little differently too so we’ll probably start earlier. Just text me before you drive over so we know when to expect you.”

You yawn next to Jeongguk; adrenaline having worn off as the tiredness finally sets in. “It’s so weird, usually I’m only just starting my stream right around this time but I’m so exhausted now...” Seungcheol’s eyes from cute crescents as he smiles down at you, stepping closer as he goes in to smooth down your hair.

“You really were screaming a lot, to be fair. How about we head home and you can sleep in the car?”

“Okay~”

Seungcheol lets you sleep in on Saturday morning, watching as your chest rises and falls with soft breaths.

He takes a moment to think over the last few weeks of his life and he can’t help the disbelieving expression that crosses his features when he realizes just how much had changed over the course of just weeks.

When the two of you had met, he wasn’t expecting much. He expected the two of you to hang out for a few days before you went home and forgot he even existed outside of your camshows and the comments section. But now that so much had happened between the two of you, Seungcheol felt a deeper connection to you and felt the need to protect you even moreso than ever.

He sees you shift slightly, sleepy eyes blinking open as you peer up at him. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Mm… g’morning ‘cheol…”

You grimace sleepily at how hoarse your voice sounds, “Ew, I sound so… gross.”

Seungcheol moves to get out of bed, leaning in to kiss your forehead before he shuffles towards the bathroom. “I’m going to wash up but you can stay in bed if you like. I’ll make you some tea for your throat, okay? We have a long day ahead of us and I don’t think you wanna sound like that later tonight.”

Nodding sleepily, you lay back down as you yawn and let the sleep take over once again.

“Are you really sure ‘bout this?” Jeongguk takes a bite of his pizza as he watches Seungcheol pull the desk closer to the bed.

“What do you mean?” You ask; readjusting the light that was closest to the younger male. “Like, I dunno, I’ve never been on a cam show like this so… I mean do I have to do anything different?” You laugh lightly as you go in to pat Jeongguk on the shoulder.

“No, just be you. And we went over it already earlier, the only thing that’s different is going to be me! No weird tricks or anything, I promise.”

Seungcheol places another monitor on the tabletop, grunting as he goes. “Yeah, and in all honesty, I would hate to have to watch you get off, ‘Guk.”

“Oh shut up, hyung. You say that like I don’t know what you’re packin’ under those sweats. I think it’d only be fair! Just two bros getting to know each other.” Seungcheol pretends to gag just as you double over in laughter. “No, absolutely not, ‘Guk. And also, nobody told you to watch those videos!”

Jeongguk pauses, lips pressing into a firm line. “You right, you right…”

You leave to get changed just as Jeongguk starts to help Seungcheol set up the last few bits of equipment. He leans in close to the older male, eyes glancing around the space to make sure you were completely out of earshot. “Hey, hyung, honest question.”

“Sure.”

“Are you really okay with all this?” Confusion crosses Seungcheol’s features as he raises an eyebrow at the younger male. “What’s ‘this’ exactly, ‘Guk?”

“Y’know, her living here and you camming all of a sudden, among everything else really… And the question if you’re in love with her which, by the way, we still all know that you are.”

A blush coats Seungcheol’s skin, fingertips almost losing grip of the camera he was about to mount to the desktop. “Listen, yes, okay, I do… like her a lot. But she’s going through a lot right now too and I don’t want to freak her out either. There’s a lot of life changes we’re going through so I’m just going to ...wait.”

“You’re a good man, hyung.”

“Hi everyone!”

You wave to the camera, winking and blowing a kiss to the camera propped up between the two monitors on the table. “I know, this setup is a little wild and not my normal but this is part two of my collaboration with Golden Closet Gaming! Do you want to introduce yourself to those who missed our other stream?” You turn to Jeongguk who nods; this time a little nervous as he stares directly into the camera.

He’d said he was okay with being filmed since he wasn’t actually part of any sexual acts, but he still found himself a little camerashy now that the two of you were live.

Seungcheol sat directly behind the monitors and cameras; his phone open to your cam show to watch from a different angle.

“Ah, hello! I’m JK of Golden Closet Gaming! I’m a friend of Cherry’s and no we won’t be fuckin’.” Jeongguk ends with an innocent smile that has you holding back your laughter.

therealchan99: i dont think dom.cheol would like that very much anyway

universe_WZ has donated $100

universe_WZ: unless he’s into watching

dom.cheol: no

alphagyu97: oh shit hes back

angelhan: huh, so hes not there?

“Oh, he is! He’s behind the camera~” You gesture beyond the camera to where Seungcheol sits and he leans over to quickly wave upside down in front of the camera to prove his existence.

j__min: ah, of course~ we know your daddy would never let you play with anyone else~

j__min: he likes you too much ;)

emerald.tae: oh? also hi new watcher!!!

emerald.tae: ur videos were great!!

emerald.tae has donated $200

therealchan99: im gonna need to start fighting ppl for ur attention i swear

gentleman_josh95: implying u had it

chwenon: yooooooo lmao

“You guuuuys, be nice! Just for that, I’m gonna be sending you a special private pic, okay ‘therealchan99’? You guys pick on him too much!” You pout.

therealchan99: hahaahhAHhhahaHAAHAA FUCKIN LOSERS SUCK ON THAT

tangerine_kwan: bruh

chwenon: damn guess we should can it

You respond to a few more comments as Jeongguk sits by and watches the way you interact with your viewers. He also takes note that you had a donation minimum before you started actually doing anything on your channel and that you’d already hit it pretty quickly.

“Okay! I think we should start now, huh? Oh, I should explain what’s going on!” You giggle cutely, settling into your space on the bed. “So JK and I will be playing this stilt man game! We have to get our character to the finish line without falling or the level restarts! JK has to get to level 30 and I have to get to level 20 and whoever reaches their goal first, wins!”

“I have a higher level to reach ‘cause our skillsets are different and we all know I’d smoke her if we both had to reach the same level.” Jeongguk grins.

seokGENIE: sure

seokGENIE has donated $69

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $100

“And the reason why ‘dom.cheol’ is behind the camera is because...” You pause, eyes twinkling with playfulness as you stare directly into the lens. “In order to get me to do my best, he’ll be controlling a special toy I’m wearing~ Hehe, if my character falls, he’ll raise the vibration setting each time as punishment and leave it on until I cum…”

“Which we are assuming will be a lot. Unfortunately, no medic on standby.” Jeongguk jokes. Seungcheol rolls his eyes as he laughs from behind the camera.

“We have a safeword, don’t we, sweetheart?” You nod in response, “Mmhmm!”

“Let’s get it!”

It takes all of four stages before your character falls for the first time.

Seungcheol turns the vibrating panties on and you immediately jolt as you try to keep your character upright on screen. “Oh, f-fuck!”

kitty_junjun: uh ohhhh it begins

artist8hao: i don’t think she’s gonna last.. babygirl is so sensitive, she’ll probably cum soon

xcaliburDK: i’m giving it until level 6 before she cums

emerald.tae: oh are we placing bets

“Noooo~ Don’t place bets on me, I’m weak!” You whine; already squirming as the vibrations attack your clit. Seungcheol grins from in front of you as Jeongguk laughs from your side, already on level 7 on his own screen.

You had to admit, it was a little weird for someone else to be in the room with you while Seungcheol basically used a toy on you, but the younger male seemed to not care about it at all. Although, he had already seen most of you and Seungcheol at this point.

Your fingertips are shaky on the keyboard and computer mouse; already fearing the way Seungcheol’s eyes almost become darker the longer you struggle.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Is the game too hard?”

“A-ah, n--no, it’s not that b-bad…” Squirming, you grind down a little harder onto the bed just as your character falls on screen and Seungcheol raises the setting to the second highest in the blink of an eye. “Ngh, fuh---fuck!”

“Uh oh~ Should I slow down to let you catch up?” Jeongguk teases.

“N-no, I can beat y-you!”

The donations and comments pour in as you struggle to keep your calm and get your character to the finish line; letting out a sigh of relief as you finally enter the fifth level. You let out a choked sob as you already feel your panties starting to stick to you like a second skin from how wet you were getting and Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle.

“You know, you’re technically allowed to cum whenever you want. It’ll just… slow you down, is all.” Grinning, he watches as you look beyond the camera towards him as you pout.

“But I--I wanna win!” You cry; palms clammy as you try to rush through the fifth stage, only for your character to fall almost immediately. “Nooo~”

Seungcheol clicks the vibrator to its highest setting and your body goes rigid as the vibrations wreck your body. You start to grind against the toy as you chase your orgasm and forget about the game almost completely. In a perfect world, Seungcheol would have his cock snug between your walls, but instead you clench around emptiness as you crave his cock.

artist8hao: ah shes already cumming lol

seokGENIE: on level 5? Fuck

universe_WZ: her cute lil cunt cant take it, poor babygirl

seokGENIE has donated $50

emerald.tae has donated $75

alphagyu97: cum baby, u kno u wanna

alphagyu97 has donated $75

A small choked whine is all you can manage before you do cum; eyes clamped shut and fingers wrapped tight around the computer mouse as the waves of pleasure crash down onto your body. Donations and comments flood the side of the screen from a combination of your viewers and Jeongguk’s as they watch your face contort in pleasure.

“Ah, sweetheart, you’re really falling behind~ JK is going through the stages so quickly while you’re sitting there cumming~” Seungcheol teases. He licks his lips, simultaneously wishing you were sitting on his cock while you played your game.

That’d have to be for another time, he thinks.

It takes a second for Seungcheol to turn the toy off and your body immediately slumps forward as you catch your breath. “Ngh, d-damn it…” You grimace when you re-adjust yourself and find your panties soaking wet.

“I’m already on level 17, babe. You gotta catch up!”

You can only groan in response, flexing your clammy fingers before you try to focus on your own screen again.

kitty_junjun: oho looks like our princess is focused now

tangerine_kwan: u got this baby

j__min: show ‘em who’s boss, babygirl

You tune out the sounds of the comments and donations as you manage to get yourself to level eight without falling, but level nine proves to be just a little too hard as your character falls and Seungcheol turns the vibrator back on to its lowest setting again.

“Be careful, baby. Wouldn’t want to fall behind again would you?”

Seungcheol feels his cock throbbing in his sweats as he watches you bite your lip. And for the first time all night, he wishes that Jeongguk would just win and go home so that he could have his own private time with you.

“I’m on level 22 already. D’you think she can even catch up?” Jeongguk teases. He spares you a side glance, taking in your form slumped closer to the table as you try to fight the vibrations.

Your body was already extremely sensitive from your first orgasm and you quickly losing your confidence as you struggled to keep your character upright. If you came even just one more time, there was no way that you’d be able to beat Jeongguk with how quickly he was going through the stages.

therealchan99: she’s cumming just as quickly as JK is getting thru the stages hfdsf

gentleman_josh95: shes so cute when she cums tho

angelhan has donated $50

angelhan: thats the real prize angel

“T-thank you…” You whimper out, fingertips twitching against the keyboard and mouse as you focus your attention to the game to the best of your ability.

You manage to get to level ten with no more issues just as Jeongguk gets to level 25 and you let out an exasperated sigh as your character falls over again. “Uh oh~ I think I’m gonna win!” Jeongguk cheers; giddiness washing over him as he works to get to the end.

“Nooo~ That’s n-not, ah, fair!” Whining, you grip the mouse tighter as Seungcheol raises the setting on the toy again, watching as you rub your thighs together at the feeling.

hoshi_tiger_xx: sadly nothings fair in the gaming world babe

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $50

dtsug__a has donated $50

dtsug__a: cute for thinkin so tho

“I don’t th--think I can, hah, c-catch up...” You moan. Your character on screen falls over one more time and all you hear is Seungcheol’s small ‘tsk’ under his breath as he sets the vibrator to the highest setting and leaves it there.

It doesn’t take long before the vibrations prove to be too much for you and you let go of the keyboard and computer mouse as your hands ball up into fists on top of the table.

The pleasure washes over you in sharp pin pricks; small whines and whimpers falling from your lips as your eyes completely clamp shut.

Jeongguk lets out a surprised noise at the way the donations and comments almost make the screen lag and for the first time, his character on screen falls over at his split second loss of focus.

“Ah, fuh--fuck!” You start to squirm once the pleasure starts to bleed into overstimulation and Seungcheol is quick to respond, “You’re gonna cum one more time as punishment for giving up, sweetheart.”

alphagyu97: ooo she's in troubleeee

gentleman_josh95: ahhh daddy still has to punish you after all

seokGENIE: damn is this what this channels abt? this is hot

artist8hao: babygirl always misbehaves

chwenon: she seems to like it too much 😏

dtsug__a: hooooo shit, thats hot

“It’s n-not my f-fault, hah, JK is j-just good at g-gaming...” You mumble.

Jeongguk manages to get to level 30 within the time you sit and grind against the toy; small noises of excitement falling from his lips as he cheers for himself!

“Aww, poor baby. Maybe you’ll focus a bit better next time, hmm?”

You nod frantically as a small tear slips down your cheek and your lips part in a breathy moan. “God, I--I’m c--cumming!”

Your body locks up, ears ringing as you cum one more time. Seungcheol wishes he could work you through it; hands massaging your skin as you take your pleasure or thrusting his cock into you as he chased his high with you.

Instead he watches from across you as your body twitches as your face contorts in unadulterated bliss, licking his lips the entire time with images of what could’ve been dancing behind his eyelids.

Jeongguk watches as the donations far surpass what the two of you made on his channel; brows disappearing into his poofy head of hair. “Wow, uh, y’all seem to really like it when she gets punished, huh?” He mutters under his breath.

“Don’t you?” Seungcheol teases.

“Truuuuue.”

A garbled moan has both of their attention on you as you try to shy away from the toy still vibrating against your overly sensitive clit. “Ah, ‘m too sen--sensitive now...” You cry.

Seungcheol turns the toy off completely as your chest heaves in deep breaths; pouting at the fact he wasn’t able to enter the camera frame to take care of you.

Jeongguk grimaces slightly at the way your body sways in tiredness next to him, unsure of what to do next now that he’d won.

“Haha, um, medic?”

#cherrybomb!cheol #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt fic #seventeen fic #scoups #seungcheol

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cloverque · 3 years

Text

monochrome (miya atsumu)

黑白 (宮侑)

your life is like the black and white panels in a manga, until a certain someone dyed his vivid colours into yours

5190 words

past highschool, present post timeskip, nostalgic themes(?), tiny enemies to lovers trope, theme revolves around unconfessed love until years later

a reuploded request from an anon-then-now-my-friend! <3 not edited

Monochrome. Your life was like the black and white pages in a manga; dull and neutral. There was nothing special about you, for the most part, you were ordinary.

At some point, almost every girl would like a colourful romance. One with blooming roses, scintillating sparkles and handsome young men. Topped off with promises of abiding love and vibrant days filled with never ending mirth.

However, you never pursued it, nor did it find you, and that was alright. Besides, what was the point of heart throbbing ardour if it were all to come to an inevitable end?

With a few clicks, your computer was turned off. You began clearing your desk, sorting out your folders and files when your colleague spun around in their chair.

“Hey, (l/n)-san. Did you hear?” The mousey woman enquired. A small smile was etched across her makeup coated face as she continued. “There’s going to be a dinner function! It’ll be held in the fancy hotel across the building.”

Your coworker across your table stood up to peer pass the desk divider. She chimed in with avidity, “I’m soooo going tonight! I heard the other divisions has a ton of hotties. No way in hell I’m gonna turn down a chance to meet ‘em!”

“Geez, you’re always thinking about men...” The lady beside you sighed, before returning her gaze back to you. “So, wanna go together?”

You shook your head, “Count me out. I already have plans tonight.” As you got up and shifted your handbag, you smiled apologetically. “Let me know if anything interesting happens, though.”

“Oh, okay... See you tomorrow,” she bid you farewell, albeit disappointedly. You nodded and bid the duo the same.

When your back was turned to them, the lady across the divider whispered to the one beside you. You knew what they were prattling about: that you were plain and boring. Wordlessly, you left the room, your heels clacking against the tiles as you made your way to the elevator.

As the double digits on the digital screen changed to singular ones, you closed your eyes.

Truthfully, it would be a lie to say that your life was completely monochrome. It was once colourful, after all, despite being for a short period.

Those days had involved a boy named Miya Atsumu, and he was the one who had brought colour into your high school days.

It all began in a manga shop.

You were in your second year of high school then, and would frequent a manga shop on the way home. It was sandwiched between a decently sized Lawson and an antique shop, on a quieter side of town.

The shop was abundant with not only manga, but also multifarious classics and second hand books. With its reserved location, not many knew of its existence, thus it went unnoticed by hordes of rambunctious manga fanatics.

It was perfect for you; your little safe place. However, you didn’t know that it was also frequented by a particular faux blonde.

You had wandered in with a specific title in mind, looking forward to getting your hands on it the whole day. Meanwhile, the boy’s brain was so preoccupied with volleyball and upcoming matches that he didn’t notice you, in an identical school uniform, lingering in the same section.

And like a sick cliche, your fingers bumped into his.

Withdrawing your hand, you snuck a side glance, only to see a broad chest in your line of sight. You slowly tilted your head to meet his steely gaze. Flinching, you practically whipped around when you realised the boy was towering over you.

“Um, sorry...” You mumbled out whilst backing away.

Atsumu’s brows were scrunched together as he took in your form. He half expected you to latch onto him with your eyes, but you were looking away, at anywhere but him.

Maybe once you got a good look at him, you’d react like all the oestrogen in his life. Squealing his name, asking for his number, all thirsty for his attention.

However, all you did was stand awkwardly, without uttering a single word. The oddity took him aback slightly. Thus, he decided to play with you a bit.

The teen perked his brows slightly before pointing at the manga’s spine. “Don’t cha want this?” He gestured, making you nod. A cruel smirk sneaked up to his handsome face.

You thought he was going to pass it to you. Instead, he slipped it out of the shelf and sauntered away. He slapped a few notes onto the cashier’s counter, making the store owner jump at his boldness. The boy with the undercut swiftly shuffled towards the entrance, his book bag slung over his back with the manga dangling from his long fingers.

Gawking, you watched as the automatic sliding doors opened for him. You wanted to call him back, to demand him to return it to you. But you knew it was impossible. The manga wasn’t yours, after all.

The blonde cocked his back to catch a glimpse of you. Noticing your conflicted expression, a mischievous grin spread across his face. He stuck out his tongue at you, cackling as your eyes widened and your face flushed. Then he left as soon as he came.

Your entire body trembled with embarrassment and humiliation. What just happened...!?

To make your day worst, you later learnt that the manga was the last one in stock. The rest of your day was spent stabbing your food and antagonising your pillow.

The next day, you found him again in the manga shop, but with grey hair. You almost dropped your book bag as you stomped towards him, fuming and ready to pounce on him.

The ash grey haired teen glanced at you with a deadpanned expression as you stopped beside him, shaking with infuriation.

“How could you do that to me yesterday!? You took the last one! The! Last! One!” Your nostrils flared as you exhaled. “Now I have no wait an entire week– And why’s your hair grey now–!?”

Despite your confrontation, the boy remained unfazed as he cocked a dark brow. It took him a few seconds to realise. He glanced up at the ceiling then back at you.

“Sorry, I think you’re mistaken,” he began politely, maintaining a neutral expression. “But the person you’re talking about is probably my obnoxious twin.”

This encounter had ended with a deep bow and a deluge of apologies. Nodding, the more reserved twin gave you a cold ‘ok’ before ambling away.

Since then, you realised that there were two twins in your school: the Miya brothers. The asshole was Atsumu, and the quieter one was Osamu. Or at least, they had seemed that way to you, on account of your personal experiences.

You wondered how you had never noticed them until now, especially when they stood out during assemblies due to their dyed hair. Not to mention their questionable popularity with the girls.

Maybe Osamu was reasonable, but who in the right mind would fall for someone like that blonde jackass Atsumu!?

On one occasion, you were shuffling past the gymnasium for a nurse’s errand when you saw a glimpse of the volleyball club. Bright blonde hair swished past the doors, and you remembered your meeting with the haughty male.

“Nice kill!” A deep voice hollered, followed by the high pitched squeaks of shoes against polished floor. You peeked past the doors, eyes shining with curiosity, when the twins you had met suddenly jumped into the air.

Your eyes were set on Atsumu as he deftly set a volleyball for his brother, who spiked the ball without delay. Sweat glimmered down the faux blonde’s forehead, tracing his jawline before dripping onto the floor. The slap he gave Osamu’s hand reverberated in the gym as they shared matching grins.

Seeing them together really highlighted the fact that they were carbon copies of each other. Your train of thoughts were derailed when a member with dark hair and narrowed eyes pointed in your direction.

Atsumu glanced at you, his smile turned upside down whilst you jolted up. With confident strides, he was in your face in an instant. He gave you a once over before grimacing.

“Get lost.”

Then he slammed the door shut in your face. As you stood frozen in place, unable to register what had happened, Osamu pressed his lips together in a thin line.

“‘Tsumu, that’s no way to treat a lady.”

His golden haired twin simply snorted in response.

Your next encounter with Atsumu took place at the manga shop again. A fight had broken out between the two of you, both unwilling to relent. Gripping the limited edition copy tightly in your hand, you refused to budge.

There were extras, but you had arrived first before the haughty boy and both of you had touched the same copy. Consequently, warring with each other.

Both of you shared exasperated expressions, tugging and pulling desperately for the manga. Neither wanted to throw in the towel. Atsumu was much stronger than you, clearly, his biceps flexing as he clenched his teeth and tried to pry the book from you.

Meanwhile, your two feet were planted firmly in the ground, all your strength poured into rooting yourself into the tiles or risk falling backwards if he were to let go.

However, he would not in a long time.

“Let go, you brat!” He chided, grunting with exasperation. Tugging it back harshly, you almost stumbled.

Growling animalistically, you retorted, “Never!” Then you lunged forward to bite his hand.

The blonde released the manga with a yelp, shoving your face off his hand brutishly. You stumbled back in response, tripping and landing on your bum. A string of saliva dribbled down your lips as you stared up at him, grinning victoriously.

Atsumu glowered, holding his bitten fist with his other hand. A row of teeth had punctured his skin, and you realised there was a little blood. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

As you stood up and brushed your school skirt, you adjusted your book bag and gripped the manga to your chest. Trembling with anger, you were giddy with pride and sheepishness.

“You slammed a door in my face, asshole!”

Then you rushed past him to pay for your purchase. Atsumu turned to watch you leave, your loafers tapping against the floor softly as you ran off. But when you hopped out of the outlet, you gave him a side glance and stuck out your tongue.

Atsumu recognised the gesture; he pointed a middle finger in return.

Days and weeks went by like that, with Atsumu and you contending against each other to buy the weekly Jump, the first copies of mangas or limited edition prints. It was childish, for two seventeen year olds to tousle with each other.

Atsumu would ruthlessly tug on your hair, screaming bloody murder of your existence and stubbornness. Meanwhile, you resorted to calling him all sorts of colourful words, which would result in the shop owner throwing the two of you out. There was even a time when you both were banned from stepping in until you made up.

It happened eventually, and the two of you would at least communicate with less insults and more civilly. Your peace treaty with him didn’t mean letting him snag first copies of new arrivals, though. But Atsumu and you settled it through more human means, instead of ripping out each other’s hair.

There was one moment in which Atsumu had made your heart beat a little faster, too. It had happened like this: you were found beside the school’s vending machine, crying because you had dropped your shoujo manga in a muddy puddle. It would never have happened if it weren’t for a group of girls that bumped into you on purpose.

Your emotional breakdown ended when Atsumu found you in that pitiful state, squatting by a murky ditch with a floating black and white book. He had stumbled upon you by coincidence, as he was buying a Pocari Sweat.

He recognised your (h/c) locks and your figure even from afar, and when he realised you were crying, he was stumped. Sure, you would cry when he tugged at your hair during fights, but for him to see your tear stained face outside arguments felt weird.

Atsumu remained silent, standing near you as you sniffled. You knew he was standing behind you, you could tell him from the hairdo in the shadow looming over you.

Instead of asking what had happened, his eyes scanned the scene and realised that a limited edition manga was floating in the dark brown puddle. Probably yours, he had thought. He connected the dots instantly. Atsumu may be childish at times, but he wasn’t an imbecile.

The blonde setter knew how much you loved your manga, how brightly you would beam whenever you got your hands on them. For you to ruin it must have felt like a heartbreak, or worse.

“Was that the one we bought two days ago?” He mumbled, and you nodded meekly.

With a soft sigh, he approached the vending machine. After slotting his coins in and pressing a button, a drink dropped to the bottom. He bent down to scoop it out, mumbling as he did so.

“You can borrow mine, if ya want.”

At that moment, your mind went blank. This immature boy was going to lend you his? It wouldn’t be such a big deal if this was anyone else, but this was Miya Atsumu you were talking about.

An insolent big shot who refused to let you win. Someone whose mental age degraded when he fumbled with words to support why he deserved to get the first copy. A selfish guy who never wanted to share.

You glanced up at the teen silently, tears still streaming down your face. He flinched as you croaked, “Miya-kun... Are you sick or something?”

“...Never mind. I think I’ll retract my offer!” He huffed, spinning on his heels as he shuffled away.

Scrambling to your feet, you blurted out, “W-Wait! I was joking, I swear!”

You chased after him, and although he couldn’t hear it, you wished Atsumu wouldn’t be able to hear your heart pounding in your chest.

Inevitably, the blonde twin and you grew closer. Sometimes, you would walk with him to school, though it was more like you were third wheeling with him and his brother. The two of them would converse about volleyball, homework, and even little things like bentos and nonsensical topics.

You grew used to their frivolous antics, and Osamu eventually opened up to you as well. The two of them even let you call them by their first names, especially since referring to both of them as ‘Miya’ was confusing.

Atsumu only learnt of your name when you both exchanged it, and when you told him he could call you by your first name, he chaffed you for the overfamiliarity.

There were days when the blonde and you would visit the manga store together. And in time to come, the teenager grew fond of your ebullient nature towards comics. He would poke fun of you for reading ‘unfeminine’ genres, such as horror and sci-fi. Whenever he found you peeking at boy love books, you never heard the end of it.

At the same time, you began to appreciate him, despite his snide remarks and snarky attitude. There were times when his jokes crossed the line you, making you pout and sometimes cry, but he would apologise through his actions, like gifting you the new arrival of your favourite manga.

It was almost impossible to get him to apologise, due to his pride, but he always made up with you in his own way. And for that, you were grateful.

As months passed and you both became close friends, Atsumu began hanging out with you during school hours. On one occasion, the both of you hid in the rooftop to eat lunch. Osamu wasn’t present due to a cold, so it was just the two of you.

Picking up an octopus shaped wiener, you gave it a half hearted glance before popping it into your mouth. Atsumu was rambling about morning practice, blathering on how pissed he was that his brother wasn’t around to spike his perfect sets.

Suddenly, without thinking, you interrupted. “You know, you’re not a bad guy, Atsumu.”

Your eyes were fixated on his when you blurted out. His cheeks were stuffed with rice as he turned to you, surprised. With a perked brow, he gawked at you like you had grown a second head.

“Wait, are you falling for me already, (y/n)?” His deep, buttery voice was muffled by the contents in his mouth.

You grinned and waggled your brows. “No way, your personality is like sewage water.”

With a giggle, you leaned in to take away the small grain lingering by his lips. Your soft knuckles brushed against the corners of his lips and he swore he had stopped breathing.

Atsumu’s cheeks were dusted pink at your kind yet intimate gesture. Nobody had done that to him before, and he was unsure of what to feel.

Taking notice of his sudden silence, you raised your brows. “Atsumu, are you okay?”

“Haaaah–?! What are you talking about, I’m perfectly fine!” He scrunched his brows together, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Then he turned away, his back facing you as he scarfed down the remains of his lunch.

You tilted your head, unsure of what had happened, but resumed eating too. Truthfully, he was a little abashed. Ever since then, his heart would beat a little faster for you too.

Atsumu’s presence in your previously dull life meant new found colours. Days went by in a blur, with jokes, nonsense and memorable memories. He had snuck into your life when you least expected it, and so did you in his.

You began watching the volleyball team‘s matches. Sitting in the back row, you would cheer for Atsumu in your own special way: inwardly.

You didn’t understand much about the game, but you knew that your blonde friend loved it more than anything else, even his manga. So it must have meant something strongly to him, and as a friend, you had to support him.

The game was moving quickly, a bit too quickly for your taste. You didn’t comprehend what was happening, but at least Inarizaki was winning. The intimidating black screen beside the court flashed with a new digit, eliciting an eruption of cheers from the cheer squad.

“Isn’t he cute? He’s kinda dreamy,” a girl in front of you sighed to her friend, and you perked up instantly. Unconsciously, you began eavesdropping. “I wonder if Atsumu-kun has a girlfriend...”

“Are you kidding? Men that hot are either gay or taken!” Her peer bubbled with conceited giggles.

You wrinkled your nose at the insensitive response, but you mulled over her words. You had never seen Atsumu with a girl before. However, there were instances when you stumbled upon him during a confession. You would hide in a bush or behind a wall, listening curiously as the girl rambled on about how much she loved or admired him.

Without fail, his words would be laced with distaste while turning them down. Usually with harsh responses like ‘you don’t even know me’ or ‘I betcha say that to every guy’. He would even go as far as ripping a love letter to shreds.

They were total knock outs to the girls’ feelings. And as they ran away in tears, you couldn’t help but feel devastated for them. Atsumu sure was a prick at times.

“Him? Having a girlfriend? Never in a million years,” you mumbled under your breath.

Strangely, your chest had tightened a little with the thought.

The game finished shortly and the volleyball team gathered together to thank the watching spectators. Atsumu’s eyes bore holes into the black banner hung over the wall when suddenly, he glanced in your direction.

You flinched under his discerning gaze, stiffening nervously. He didn’t know that you were here until now.

His eyes narrowed a bit before a smirk settled on his sweat stained face. Your face burned, a little too hotly for your liking, and you looked down at your shoes to hide it. Why was he staring at you like that?

The girls in front of your row squealed that he was looking in their direction, but when they called out to him, he looked away. His cold attitude almost made you snigger.

Now that the match was over, you decided it was time to head home. You were ready to descend a flight of stairs when a familiar voice called your name. Spinning around, you came face to face with the handsome blonde, who was wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Didn’t know you came,” he breathed, arms akimbo as you cocked your head.

“Yeah, I wanted to cheer for Osamu.” You gave him a cheeky, lidded eye smile. An irk mark formed on his temple as he chopped your head with his hand.

The two of you went off after that: you teasing him on his missed serve and how his brother had to pick up his slack. Atsumu bared his fangs and fired empty threats and curses, all the while you pulled your bottom eyelid and blew a raspberry mockingly.

A dark haired teen in a jersey with the number ten stood idly by his teammates. Leaning on a railing, he hummed. “Who’s that, Osamu?”

The mentioned twin watched his brother and you with a softened expression. As the two of you fought like cats and dogs, he chuckled. “Someone who can stand Atsumu more than me.”

“Huh... If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’re in love.”

The Inarizaki volleyball club watched as Atsumu pinched your cheeks and spread them ruthlessly, earning a high pitched whine from you. You resorted to clawing his face and Osamu had to put an end to both of your antics–

The voice on the intercom derailed your train of thought. Getting up, you stumbled out of the train in a daze.

You had unwittingly gone down memory lane, a bit too much. As your heels tapped against the concrete sidewalk, you glanced up at the dark sky twinkling with a streak of stars. Clouds rolled by leisurely, and waning luna peeked from her wispy blanket.

The rest of your high school had gone by in a blur, most of it involving Miya Atsumu. There was one time when you went to an anime and manga convention with him.

You smiled fondly at the distant memory: Atsumu was teary eyed as he shook hands with his favourite mangaka, who was a hunched over man. Out of respect for him, he knelt down, to be the same height, and took a photo with him in that state. You had never imagined a day would come when he would kowtow to someone.

Taking out your phone, you searched up for his social media and tapped on his Twitter account. There were posts after posts of his activity in the MSBY Black Jackals.

A silly selfie with a dog filter made you titter aloud. The comment section was overwhelmed with questions of his next match, his day, relationship status and the like.

Atsumu was an even bigger shot now. He also moved nearer to his volleyball team’s hometown, just to be able to practice longer hours there. He had left his hometown a while ago, and the both of you hadn’t contacted each other for years.

You once had his phone number, until a sneaky crow took off with your old mobile phone. No clue as to why that had happened.

Sighing at the thought, you stepped foot into your destination: a manga shop. The same one you had first met him. It never really changed; faded beige walls and oak wood shelves with blanched posters. Walking back in here only reminded you of how colourful your life had once been.

“Welcome back, (l/n)-san!” greeted the young boy behind the counter. He was the grandson of the shop owner, whose knees had deteriorated over the years.

You glanced in his direction. “How’s business been, kid?” He gave you an ‘ok’ sign and your expression softened. “Hope it’s okay if I take a bit. I finally found some time to shop.”

“Store’s closing in ten. Don’t take too long!” He waved back earnestly and you nodded.

Making your way past the familiar shelves, the clacking of your heels resounded in the almost empty store. Your hair bounced behind you as you tread past the sports manga section, past a tall, blonde.

You had failed to notice the old friend behind the mask. The blonde man glanced up the moment you passed, and his eyes widened in shock.

Without hesitation, you picked up the latest issue of Jump. It had been a while since you read manga, as everyday was swamped with work. Flipping through the black and white pages, your mind drifted to the reality in the panels.

You were oblivious to the male strutting towards you. As he approached, he took in your more adultly figure and attire. You were dressed in a white button up which clung to your chest, and a black pencil skirt that hugged your waist and hips.

You looked ravishing, to say the least, and Atsumu had to swallow the lump in his throat. There was no mistake, the beautiful woman in front of him was you.

He stopped behind you, hands jammed into his jean pockets before pulling down the white mask. The man with a dark cap atop his fluffy blonde locks peered past your smaller form to take in the manga in your hands. With a soft hum, he spoke up.

“Something’s never change, huh?”

You jolted up in surprise and whipped around, only to come face to face with an intimidatingly tall man. He was almost 190cm, perhaps, and was built with muscles that even his clothes couldn’t hide. His broad chest was in your face, and you had to tilt your head back to meet him in the eye.

With a lopsided grin, the man took off his cap. His tousled blonde locks sprang out of their cage, and your eyes widened in recognition while he smirked, “Sup, (y/n). How are ya?”

“Atsumu?!” You gasped, the Jump going slack in your hands as you dropped it. It flopped onto a pile of similar copies whilst said blonde placed a finger over his lips.

“Shh, I’m here on my day off!” He teasingly hushed, and you instantly clamped a hand over your mouth to silence your confused screaming.

Was this for real? How could the boy, who had painted your monochrome life full of colour, be standing right in front of you? Right now and right here?

Your eyes flitted from the pooling chocolate brown in his eyes to his larger stature. Raking his figure with your wide eyes, you came to a conclusion: Atsumu had changed.

You knew that he was more built from his self-centred topless selfies, but seeing him upclose was a whole different experience. He has grown taller too, though he had always loomed over you either way, but it was still a little frightening how much he could grow even after puberty. Meanwhile, his undercut was relatively the same, except his bangs were not pushed back, unlike before when they were swept to the right.

The only thing that had remained unchanged was the playful glint in his orbs and the smug smile tugging on his lips.

“I...Is it really you, ‘Tsumu?” You murmured, albeit teary eyes as you removed your hand from your mouth.

Running his fingers through his golden mane, he chuckled, “Do ya know anyone with these good looks?”

Your eyes narrowed playfully and you pinched his cheeks. Huffing, you told him off, “Stop trying to be so suave, weirdo!”

“Geh– But seriously, I thought you died or something! Ya never responded to my texts,” He spluttered out as you pulled his cheeks harder, and he managed to add, “But lucky me, you’re still kickin’!”

“Wait, you what?” Your lashes fluttered in confusion. You hadn’t gotten a word he had said since the beginning.

“I tried contacting you once in a while, but you never replied.” He blinked, and you looked down at the ground, suddenly embarrassed.

“Ah... My phone was stolen by a crow. And I lost your number...”

“Wait, for real? That sounds like something straight outta a manga!” He chortled as a sheepish smile snuck on your flushed face.

When Atsumu had calmed down, he placed his hands over yours, detaching them from his cheeks. Holding your hands gently, he wore a mask of calm. You were a bit confused by his sudden, gentle gesture. You gave him a questioning look, although your heart was starting to pound uncontrollably behind your ribs.

Squeezing your hand lightly, he began quietly. “(y/n), I know it’s been a long time and all... But I never forgot the times we had together. And, well, I know it’s kinda late, but I liked you.”

A blush crept up on both of your faces as he continued clumsily. “I kinda still do, so, well... If you’d like, we should–“

“Shop’s closing!” Atsumu and you jumped up in surprise. The boy was standing at the end of the section, a look of genuine surprise on his baby face. Glowering, the blonde barked fiercely.

“You ruined it, ya moron!”

The teen flinched before scuttling away. You burst into giggles as the upset athlete scowled. Whipping his head back to you, he scrunched his brows together, exasperated.

“What’s so funny?” He enquired, still wearing a frown.

Breathing shakily, you wiped away a tear in your eye. “You never really changed, Atsumu!” With a lidded eye smile, you grinned at him innocently, heart swelling with nostalgia.

His glare softened at your expression. Shooting a quick glance at the returned boy, who was peeking from the shelves anxiously, he clicked his tongue.

“Let’s ditch this place,” he grunted, taking your hand in his again as he dragged you out of the shop. You stumbled but eventually matched his pace.

With an apologetic glance at the young boy standing in the shop, you turned back to Atsumu. “Still as mean and pushy as always, aren’t cha?”

The faux blonde gave you a side glance, still pulling you along. Eye rolling, he slapped back on his cap and looked ahead, “Shut up.”

Neither Atsumu nor you couldn’t deny that both of your hearts were pounding. The two of you ended up taking a long stroll in your hometown, catching up on the pass few years and more. The night also had ended on a high note.

Once again, Miya Atsumu’s vibrant colours had seeped back into the monochrome panels of your life. Perhaps, this time, a romance would bloom between the two of you.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　fin.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu request #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu x you #haikyuu atsumu x y/n #haikyuu x fem reader #🍡.atsumu

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theonetheycallhannah · 3 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 20: Second Assist

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: Shane reunites with friends and family, hashes out some feelings, and gets real with Sy. Can their relationship survive her trauma? And the threat that still looms above them?

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: Mention of rape, alcoholic beverages, violent imagery…feels out the butt.

Author’s Note: You guys are so splendid and beautiful! I can’t thank you enough for your support and encouragement to finish this piece. First, welcome to new readers! I know poor Henry’s injury and subsequent physiotherapy has driven some of you here, and while I’m sorry for him, I’m glad I can consider myself something of a pioneer in this particular genre and provide you some help for your newfound thirst. To my OG readers, it is to you I owe this entire work, parts written and incomplete, and I hope an eventual book deal. I mean to mention you in my acknowledgements, should this ever reach a willing publisher. You’ve inspired me so supremely that I cannot quantify it, even with the words I hold so dear.

Since my last chapter was posted, we’ve said a relieved goodbye to 2020 and a tentative hello to 2021. To be honest, this year has started out worse than last year. Lots of bad weather in my area this winter, my sister is currently on her way to a new life in another state, and my grandmother, the last grandparent I had, passed away in February. Those last two things have been especially difficult to shake off and recover from, both coming to fruition pretty suddenly. Amongst all that, I’ve been pretty distracted by my other fandoms, especially Marvel, and I’ve been reading a killer book series that I’m utterly in love with. (The Throne of Glass novels by Sarah J. Maas. 10/10 recommend.) But I knew I needed to get back into Shane and Sy’s story, especially given the new and rekindled interest in the subject matter. In all honesty, I’ve had most of it written for months. It’s just been a matter of finishing it off to set up the rest of the story.

I really hope you all enjoy Chapter 20, Second Assist, and would love your feedback and notes. You are all so important to this story, and your notes, reblogs, and comments are cherished. Thank you so much for reading! Love from Hannah!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira@oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka @thisismysecretthirstblog @speakerforthedead0 @tumblnewby @suavechops @radkesgirl83 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @heartfelt-pen @auds24 @geekycanuck @lunarstarknight @wilma-g @coldmuffinbanditshoe @feralrunaway @sugarpenchant @bichibibi @mzchievous-blog @shesakillerkween @madbadidc7ed @foodieforthoughts @toomanyfandomsshreya @oqueequesentes-borboletas @kebabgirl67 @indigosaurus (some of you new readers didn’t ask, but I took the liberty. If you want me to remove you, I totally will without hard feelings.)

If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Shane woke in her warm bed, late morning sun streaming in through her sheer curtains, the heavier drapes parted to let in the light. She wished she'd remembered to close them before now. She really was not ready to be awake.

She was sore. Achy. Her sleep had been fitful and full of shadowy nightmares and muffled screams. Beyond that, she didn't try to remember images or events. She knew the general premise of the dreams. It would take a lot of time, effort, or a miracle to make her forget those traumas she'd been through in the last week. Not even forget. She knew she never would. But move on from them. Accept them. And heal from them…even that seemed a mighty obstacle. One she was not sure she could surmount.

Through the open bedroom door, she could hear Lynyrd Skynyrd and the clanging and sizzling of pans, and she could smell bacon and freshly brewed coffee. Sy had left the room, but had not, it seemed, gone far. She gingerly sat up, stood from the bed, and donned her robe as she walked out into the hall and down the corridor to the kitchen.

The sight before her warmed her heart. There was Sy. In only his boxers, daringly frying the notoriously dangerous breakfast meat. Upon her entry to the kitchen, she could also smell pancakes, and she thought syrup, as well. He seemed to be warming a bottle of the maple unction in a pot of hot water. He turned as she stepped on a squeaky floorboard, and grinned widely at her.

"Mornin' sunshine." And she was struck by the irony of someone with such a radiant smile calling her sunshine. Especially when she didn't feel much like beaming. But she couldn't help return the expression, even through her pain.

"Mornin' bear. Did you go to the store?" She knew she couldn't have any bacon in her fridge, and she doubted her eggs and milk were still good at this point. But she also couldn't think that he would leave her for any reason.

"Nah, some of the guys brought over some provisions. Matt worked on your car all night, too, and filled up the tank. It's as good as new. He and Nate brought ‘er over as well as the groceries. I just had ‘em get stuff I knew your family wouldn't be bringing later. They've had tons of food given to them this week, and they're ready to share. You should have seen your mom loading me down with sandwiches and chips and whatnot when I visited them."

"I still can't believe you met them. I really wanted to introduce you personally." Shane's face fell. She would never be able to get that back. She wanted to cry. Sy had poured her a cup of coffee and sat it in front of her with her favorite creamer.

"Darlin' I’m so sorry. I had to talk to them."

"I know." she sniffed. "I'm not mad. Not at you. Just…"she didn't want to say Elliott's name. "I'm disappointed that the experience was stolen from me." That so many things had been stolen from her. By that monster. There was no other way to describe him. Sy growled. As if he could read her mind. He really just knew her well enough and shared her thoughts.

"Well, don't worry, we'll have a nice dinner with them one of these days, and we can pretend. Sound good?"

"Yeah, and I can feign nervousness." she laughed.

"And I'll pretend too. That I'm scared to meet your dad." he chuckled. "What if he threatens me with his shotgun?"

"I'll pull the ol' 'Daddy, no, I loooooove him!' line, as I throw myself between you!"

"That oughta work." he laughed and kissed her on the forehead as he stepped toward the stove and flipped a pancake.

As they sat eating their late breakfast, Shane's mind wandered. Nothing had changed on the surface, but everything was different now. This cozily mundane breakfast with her boyfriend felt like an out of body experience. As delicious as it was, as wonderful and comforting as it should feel, her guard was up. Even through her amiable façade. She was not the person she was two weeks ago. She was not the same woman who said goodbye to Sy at the base. Maybe that was the real transformation. Maybe that was why nothing felt normal. It wasn't the world, but her own self coming back into it.

"Shane?" Sy asked, gently, but it felt like he was speaking through a megaphone directly into her ear. She was so startled, she nearly dropped the half full mug of coffee that was paused midway to her lips. A bit sloshed out onto the table and splashed her shirt.

"Shit!" she chided herself. It wasn't a big deal, but she felt stupid jumping at the sound of her own name.

Sy reached for the closest towel, hanging from the oven handle, grabbed it and started for her clothes with it. She stopped him. But she couldn't think about why the intimate act made her uncomfortable.

"No, don't, it's fine. These clothes have seen better days, anyway." She pulled the towel from him and began to mop up the small puddles of coffee around her plate.

Sy seemed to note the stains already present on the shirt, as if trying to divine their history. She was something of a messy eater, so the battle wounds of many a barbecue, spaghetti dinner, and hurried breakfast peppered the now off-white SATB club tee she'd gotten her second or third year in college choir. She thought back to a huge room with high ceilings. White, cinder block walls, flecked tile floors, a beautiful, glossy, black baby grand in front of a long whiteboard with black lines to resemble sheet music. She thought about the mnemonic device she'd learned to help her remember what notes appeared on each line, and in the spaces between them. She pondered the deeper meanings and implications of these devices. EGBDF…every good boy does fine. She thought about the "good boys" in her life. She knew many. Her dad, her brother Ethan, Sy, obviously, her many male coworkers and friends…and honestly they did far better than "fine." They were wonderful. But she was letting the "bad boys" she'd encountered dictate her mood. Permeate her psyche. Tear her down. She didn't want to be like this. Then FACE came to mind, and above their purpose of indicating the notes between the lines on the staff, they called her to action. To face these newly minted demons with all the strength she knew she possessed, and she too would "do fine." But as with almost all actions, this was easier said than done.

She felt a warm presence on her left hand which had paused it's torture of the now coffee-infused kitchen towel. Sy's hand was squeezing hers gently.

"Shane." he uttered, barely above a whisper this time. She looked at him through tears that she had not realized had formed. He continued.

"Shane, what can I do, darlin'? I'll do anything."

"Babe, you're doing everything you can, and more. This…this is all going to have to come from me. I…don't know when I'll be myself again…" she paused, tears streaming now. "I'm…I'm different."

"You're not though." he reached for her face, but she pulled away.

"I am, damn it! Sy, I was…" Words had power. And the one she was thinking of had more power than she thought was warranted. She knew that uttering it would take away it's power…and yet mustering the courage and strength to actually do so…seemed impossible. She took a deep breath, and disassociated herself from the statement, even though it was about her own past.

"I was raped." She refused to cry. She felt it all again. She had never said the words. She had never thought it necessary. Everyone understood. Sy, his friends, and she was sure her own loved ones had made the connection. But she knew she needed to say it now to drive home the points she was about to make.

Sy, looked at the table, nodding, not needing to be told in so many words something he already had surmised from the clear evidence. He remained silent. She went on.

"I love you, Sy. I have since the day we met, on one level or another, and I believe that I always will. But I…right now I can't be a proper girlfriend to you. I can't…be with you, touch you, be touched by you, in the way we used to be. In the way you deserve…and I don't know when…or even if…I ever will. Not that I don't want to. That's ALL I want in the world. To go back. To be the woman who fell in love with this…incredible man. To make love with you, but…I can't."

Sy's eyes were full of tears, their predecessors already descending his round cheeks and disappearing into his thick, dark beard.

"Sy, I don't want to lead you on and keep you tied to a relationship with no life in it. You deserve someone who's whole. Someone who can be a fully invested partner for you, and not this broken, damaged--"

"You stop that, Shane. I won't hear no more of this kinda talk. Y'hear? You're my girl. My woman. My person. No matter what. You gotta know I'd never leave ya just cuz you aren't ready for sex again. You don't think that I would, do ya?"

"Well, you went to Virginia…you took that job…knowing the distance it would put between us. Literally and figuratively."

"Biggest mistake of my life." Shane raised her eyebrows in surprise as Sy elaborated. "I couldn't focus on my classes without wishing you were there. Wishing I could team up with you for discussions and hand to hand combat training…that thought got me a little too excited, if you catch my drift." He smirked, pulling a sheepish smile from Shane. "Then in that forest. I dreamt about you every night. I thought of you constantly. I could barely breath sometimes, I missed ya so damned much. I was an idiot. I was insane to think that I needed anything other than you. Any MORE. There IS no more. You're it. You're the MOST! The most important thing in my life."

The declaration hung like vapors in the air, more felt than seen. Tangible yet ethereal.

"And when I found out that you were missing…I was…well, I think I looked like death…and not warmed over. You can ask the program director I met with after I got the news. She could tell I was just sick over it. And as I thought about it on the way home, pieced things together, started thinking about who'd taken you, I got murderous. Shane, I have been in dozens of battles, skirmishes, firefights, you name it. War. But…the sheer bloodlust I felt thinking about what you could be going through…I've never experienced anything like it. Everything was red. Everything. For days. Until I saw you, alive. And then it went red again when I saw the fear and damage on your face." she could tell he was doing his best not to talk about the farmhouse and that basement, but she still flashed back to the moments before and after his appearance there. The moments when she simultaneously prayed to live and hoped to die.

"You don't owe me anything, Shane. I just want you in my life, and I don't care what your presence looks like. Romantic, platonic, or somewhere in between. I'm here for you. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Shane felt the urge to wrap her arms around her boyfriend, but could not seem to move more than one arm to place her other hand on top of his. She hoped the gratitude and love behind the small, but heartfelt gesture landed. It was all she had in that moment, no matter how abundant her affection.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shane's family's arrival was a complete blur to her. It was joyous, tearful, and the happiest she'd been in a long time. The moment she opened the front door for them, she was surrounded, engulfed with hugs from her parents and siblings. They stood in their affectionate huddle for several moments before Peg waved Sy over with marked insistence. He'd been standing by, observing happily, but not wanting to intrude on the familial reunion.

When they finally dispersed, John asked the two younger men to help him bring in groceries. The women headed into Shane's bedroom for a more private setting in which to talk. Shane filled her mother and sister in the best she could given the rawness of the wounds left on her mind by the events.

She leaned against the headboard cuddling with Gabby while her mom rubbed her feet. She had insisted on doing this thing that had always comforted her children, and made them feel much better when they were younger.

"Well, I'm very proud of you, pumpkin." The girls both looked at their mother, who rather uncharacteristically hadn't spoken in some time. Shane was nonplussed. Peg elaborated.

"You survived something that many women don't. You're talking about it now, which even more women don't. You may think you're broken, but you're just a tree damaged by a storm, but standing stronger than ever." Trust her mom to lay such wisdom on her. When she felt like giving up. When she just wanted pity. When she could only see defeat. Her mother had always found a way to encourage and buoy her and show her the victory.

"Mom's right." Gabby affirmed, and it was Peg's turn to be nonplussed, as the two women, though similar in so many ways, never seemed to see eye to eye. "It's true. Shane I've seen a lot of women come into the clinic in shoes very much like yours. And trust me…some of them…they don't make it to this point. You've got a long way to go before you're fully recovered, don't get me wrong, but you'll get there. You have us. And you have Sy."

"And then there's Sy." She diverted. "How am I supposed to plan any sort of future with him when…" She looked at her mom, and hesitated. Peg rolled her eyes.

"Shane, I know what the two of you get up to when you're alone. You don't have to be shy with me."

"Still…" she took a breath and spoke. "When I can't bring myself to…sleep with him?"

"Look at him, you're kidding, right?" Gabby chided, insensitively, but recanted at the pained expression on Shane's face. "Sorry, sis. Trying to lighten the mood a touch. Too soon. But seriously, I don't think this reluctance you feel will be permanent."

"And even if it is," Peg took over, "that man is out-of-his-mind in love with you, Shaney." She kissed Shane's toe before putting a sock on her foot. "He almost seems to worship you. Now, you know how I feel about using that term outside of religious context, but that is exactly the kind of love I want for you. Devout, and unconditional."

"But, mom, I can't--"

"Did you hear me? I said 'unconditional,' sweetie." Peg interrupted. "No matter what. No matter the obstacle. No matter the distance. No matter the circumstances. Love unwavering. That's what Sy has for you. I've seen it in him. Trust the momma."

The insistence her mother placed on trust had always ruffled Shane's feathers. Gabby's too, who she could feel stiffen slightly beside her. But Shane, for once, really wanted to trust her mother, hoping against hope that she was right. And that she, herself wouldn't screw up the best relationship she had ever been in or was likely to ever be in again.

The girls had begun talking about some of the coworkers who'd brought food in the past week, and Peg couldn't resist remarking on the character of her favorites and judging the ones she didn't care for…oddly enough, getting more or less, the correct measure of them, as Shane saw it.

After what must have been an hour from the time they'd arrived, they heard a knock on the slightly ajar bedroom door. John poked his head in.

"Ladies, we've put a casserole in the oven, and completed various manly projects around the house--"

"Oh, daddy, what projects?" She cringed. She hated that the men had felt the need to "fix" things.

"Babe, your guest bathroom had not one, but two leaky faucets, your kitchen table seemed to be more of a teeter-totter, and half the light bulbs in the living room were out. Among other tiny things. You're welcome." he smirked his crooked smirk so similar to her own, and she returned it as if he was looking in a mirror.

"Thanks, dad."

"Anyway, lunch is almost ready. So, when you've finished your confab, let's eat."

Dinner passed amiably, Shane found a reserve within herself to allow some quasi-normal behavior, as long as you didn’t look too closely. She was talking animatedly with her siblings, making their parents and Sy laugh riotously. Shane noticed some odd looks passing between Sy and her father, but chalked it up to paranoia. She wished at least Gabby and Ethan could stay, but Heather would be over soon, and she deserved her own dedicated time. Shane wanted to give that to her.

She said her farewells to her family with promises to visit them the next day, and at least one more time before her siblings went back home, if she could work it out.

Sy was so wonderful the whole time. Standing by her, a hand resting lightly on her shoulder as they waved goodbye to the departing vehicle. He made her feel so safe. They went into the kitchen and cleaned up from lunch. Well, Sy cleaned. Shane was texting Heather about when she'd be over.

"Heather says she'll be here in about a half hour. She's picking up wine and pizza." Shane told Sy without looking up from her phone. She could see out of the corner of her eye, though, that he had just closed the dishwasher and was selecting a cycle.

"Sounds great. Do you want me to get out of here? Give you guys some time, one on one?" He asked as he dried his hands, wet from preparing dishes for the machine.

She thought about it, and shuddered. She played a scene in her head that startled her. In her mind's eye, she saw Sy leave and then moments later heard a knock on the door. Presuming it was Heather, she opened the door with abandon, only to see Elliott standing there under a flickering porch light, smirking maliciously at her and ready to overpower and abduct her again. She shook the thought from her head, but remained uneasy as she answered his question.

"Uh, no. Thanks. I'm sure she'll want to talk to both of us. She likes you." Shane grinned softly at Sy in an attempt to mask her trepidation over the thought of him leaving her alone for any period of time. She thought it had worked.

"Okay, well, whatever you think, sunshine. I don't wanna get in the way." He was wiping down the countertops. She felt so impossibly full of love for him, she was starting to wonder how she hadn't yet burst with it. She couldn't bear the thought of holding him back from a fulfilling relationship. He deserved everything she couldn't give him right now. And she knew she should make him leave her. Cut him loose. But she was, as she'd been since she'd met him, a weak woman. She couldn't stand the thought of being without him. Of him no longer being hers. And somehow worse, of not being his, herself. She would always need him for so many reasons, not least of which being her love for him. Maybe one day, she'd recover from this trauma, and be able to be who he deserved. To give him what he needed.

"You're never in the way, bear." She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed him as tight as she could. He placed a loving hand over hers, sighing and smiling, though she had no visual proof of the latter. It was just a feeling.

Heather's greeting was no less exuberant than that of Shane's family, but it was more joyful and less emotional, even though she was immensely relieved to see her best friend after so long. They talked as if no time had passed, and Shane mustered up the dregs of her former self to have one more interaction for the day. Thank God it was Heather and not someone who would require more. She wouldn't have it to give.

"I am so glad you're okay, Shane! Things around the clinic have been bleak as fuck. Susan is loosing her mind, Anita is beside herself with concern, and the rest of us just plain ol' miss the hell out of you. And not just because of all of the overtime everyone has been pulling to get your patients seen."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize…wow, I'm awful. I didn't even think---"

"That you'd be missed? Think again, sister. The place would fall apart if you ever really left. But don't feel guilty. It's the least everyone can do, and they've all said it themselves. We all love you, and know that you'd do the same for any of us if you could at all. Hopefully you won't have to, though!"

Shane nodded, eyes wide in agreement. She wouldn't wish the last week of her life on her worst enemy. On the worst person in the world. Except maybe the people responsible. Tit for tat.

"Well, I'm sorry my absence has caused extra work for all of you." Shane looked into the deep glass of Chardonnay Sy had poured her from the bottle Heather had brought. She felt about as small as the air bubble making it's way up the sloping curve of the stemless vessel. She felt a guilt that she knew was fully void of logic. It made no sense for her to feel guilt for being kidnapped. But she had always had this notion, this nagging voice in her head that told her that her misfortunes were a direct result of her decisions. That she'd inadvertently stepped on the butterfly that resulted in the monsoon she was currently experiencing, and whatever cataclysmic events she would face next.

"Why in God's name are you apologizing for this, Shay?" Heather's tone was kind, but still mildly scolding.

"If I'd never been with Elliott, none of this would have--"

"Bitch, are you a fortune teller?"

"No, but--"

"Soothsayer?"

"No."

"Time traveler?"

"I wish!" Shane chuckled. But she really did wish.

"Have you any real and proven success at consistently predicting the future?"

"I don't, but--"

"No. No buts. No howevers. You had no idea what becoming involved with Elliott could have done. Were there signs, sure. But you can't look on the past as a rubric to judge the quality of your decisions. You know that. You can only learn from your mistakes. And you have."

"Heather's right, sunshine. You really have learned. You look for Elliott's behaviors in mine and shut me down quick if you see 'em. You're not going to let yourself go down that road again. And I'm proud of you for it."

Shane silently worried her wine glass. It was hard to argue with such truth. But it was hard to agree when her own feelings were in such stark opposition. So she did neither.

"Well, I've preached my sermon for the day." she laughed. "I've taken up enough of your time. Oh, your phone. It's in my purse. I think it's fully charged, but I turned it off."

Shane thanked her friend, then Heather hugged them both and took her leave.

"Y'okay, bug?" Sy asked her after what she surmised was several minutes of silence. Minutes she didn't notice as they passed.

"Mmm…" she trailed off.

"Can I do something for ya?" And she really thought about the question. He could probably do a lot of things for her. He could make love to her until she felt whole again, even if it hurt her at first. Not an ideal option. He could probably get them both some new identities and enough money to spirit her away to somewhere her past wouldn't follow. If she became someone new, literally, would she have to bring that old baggage, those old scars, with her? Again, suboptimal. But he could definitely take the source of all grief and turmoil in her life far into the Missouri back country, somewhere not even the hunters would venture, some fallow field or forgotten cistern, and end him. Snuff out his spark of life like a candle caught in a tornado. Spill a fatal amount of his monstrous blood onto the unforgiving earth and send him to the Hell to which he was undoubtedly destined. But did she want that? Did she want another soul as a scar on that of the man she so deeply cherished? He'd say it was worth it. He'd say he'd take a thousand more for her. A million. That was Sy.

"Nothing comes to mind." She lied. And he knew it was a lie, but didn't push it. She was so grateful that he respected her, not for the lie itself, but for the reason she wasn't giving him the whole truth just now.

His phone went off and he picked it up as he stood from his seat at the table. She could only hear that it was Matt, the guy she thought she understood had the car place, before she heard tension in Sy's voice. Even from the next room, she could tell something was wrong, though he was talking too quietly for her to make out words.

She heard him suddenly shout a stream of profanities that he rarely said at all around her, at least, let alone together. There was a bang, and the walls of her kitchen quaked like the tectonic plates beneath them were shifting.

Sy walked back in, his face was red, as were his knuckles. He was shaking an injury out of his hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked, deep concern at his appearance and demeanor, suddenly ominous.

"I need to fix your wall in there." he grumbled, evading, without success. She'd be doing therapy on his hand, next.

"What's really wrong?" she repeated, sternly.

"That was Matt. Elliott's…escaped, somehow. He's in the wind."

Shane's heart became so heavy, she could almost feel it smashing through the kitchen floor and burying itself deep in the cement floor of her basement.

"Oh, God! No! What if he goes to the police!?"

"Fuck that, I'm more concerned about him coming after you!"

The two stared, faces full of equal measures of concern for the other.

Up Next: Chapter 21-Patient Education

#netflix #netflix sand castle #captain syverson #Captain Syverson x OFC #captain syverson fanfic #sigh for sy #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x reader

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danijimenezv · 3 years

Note

Amiga! These questions are bit different:

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Amiga these are genius dksaldnafjcsajd I am in love with this! The angst and longing from Book 1 is just delicious

Not Yet Wed Questions

The setting for this answers is: Post Miami, but before he quit.

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought __________

Jill: Wow.

Ethan: Care to clarify?

Jill: *blushes* Well, the first time I saw you was taking control of a medical emergency. It was amazing, and I was a bit awestruck. Of course, right after that, I thought that you were a handsome asshole.

Ethan: Of course.

Jill: …You’re not answering?

Ethan: I don’t feel like answering.

Jill: Okay, that’s either really good or really bad.

Ethan: You’re going to let it get to your head.

Jill: Really? Well now I’m intrigued. Do tell, Dr. Ramsey.

Ethan: I thought you were proficient.

Jill: Proficient? Seriously?

Ethan: You were just an intern on your first day, and you still jumped into action when a woman needed help. It was… not what I expected.

Jill: *grins smugly* So you were just as awestruck, is that what you’re saying?

Ethan: That’s not what I said.

Jill: It’s what I heard.

Ethan: I knew you would let it get to your head.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Both: Fuck. *laugh*

Jill: Dr. Ramsey doesn’t regularly curse out loud, instead you can see the intention written all over his face. But I have caught him saying “fuck” a few times.

Ethan: On the other hand, Dr. Valentine curses like a sailor. Even for the smallest of things, you can hear her whispering “fuck” under her breath.

Jill: He also uses “goddammit” and “Christ” a lot.

Ethan: And when it’s not a situation, but a person, she uses “fucker”.

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Jill: Deep blue.

Ethan: Whiskey.

Jill: You know, I feel honored to be compared to whiskey. I know how much you value it.

Ethan: *stutters and blushes* What? I-I don’t… It wasn’t like that.

Jill: *smirks* Suuuuure.

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Jill: That’s a hard one.

Ethan: You’re exaggerating.

Jill: I’m not. You hate a lot of people.

Ethan: Hate is an overdramatic word.

Jill: Well, okay, then you strongly dislike a lot of people.

Ethan: Closer.

Jill: Does Nash count as coworker now that he has a deal with the team?

Ethan: Unfortunately.

Jill: Okay, so first Nash, and then in no particular order Dr. Cyrus, Dr. Wen, Dr. Toussaint…

Ethan: Those are more than three.

Jill: And I can keep going. Dr. Mirrielees, Dr. Rosario… June? I don’t know her personally, but I heard you complain about her the other day, so…

Ethan: Eavesdropping again, were you?

Jill: Never, just passing by and paying attention to my surroundings, like a good diagnostician should.

Ethan: Right. You forgot yourself.

Jill: Uh-uh, you don’t fool me. I’m possibly one of the few interns you tolerate.

Ethan: *sighs but doesn’t deny it* Round it up, Rookie. No point stretching out the answer.

Jill: Okay, fine. I guess mainly Nash, Cyrus, and Wen. And also probably some intern, or a handful of them. Not including me, obviously.

Ethan: Hrm, I think the most annoying of them is your partner on the Knoblauch case. The squirmy one.

Jill: Landry? Really? I admit he can get a bit annoying at times, but he’s just really nervous around you.

Ethan: Well, I don’t like him.

Jill: Your turn to answer.

Ethan: I would go with Nash as well, but other than that, I don’t think you hate any other coworker. Dr. Valentine seems to get along with everyone, it’s… disconcerting.

Jill: It’s called being a people person. But I do find Dr. Cyrus and Dr. Lozoya irritating. Don’t tell them, though.

Ethan: I do believe, however, that I made it to that list at some point.

Jill: What makes you say that?

Ethan: Your impertinence and constant point to defy me.

Jill: I defy you because I can. That doesn’t mean I hate you.

*Ethan is stunned into silence*

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Ethan: She sometimes snorts when she laughs.

Jill: Oh my God, you’ve heard that?!

Ethan: What’s wrong with that?

Jill: That’s not endearing, that’s embarrassing!

Ethan: She also scrunches up her nose or bites her lip when she’s too focused on something. It’s cute.

Jill: *stares at him with wide eyes* You think I’m cute?

Ethan: I think your quirks are cute.

Jill: Right… Dr. Ramsey places a finger on his temple, either when he’s deep in thought or when he’s fighting the urge to strangle someone, usually an intern. He also pinches the bridge of his nose a lot, especially when he’s annoyed.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

*They stare at each other pointedly, and then look away, blushing.*

Jill: *clears her throat* I don’t do crushes.

Ethan: *raises an eyebrow in challenge* Lahela?

Jill: Not a crush.

Ethan: Then what was he, exactly?

Jill: Friend with benefits.

Ethan: *chokes up* Christ…

Jill: Well, you asked!

Ethan: Is he still?

Jill: No, not anymore. Not since before… you know…

Ethan: Ah… *looks away*

Jill: Anyway… I would say your crush is probably Chief Emery. Or, well, me.

Ethan: *in a warning tone* Jillian.

Jill: What? Bree said this was off the record. Someone has to acknowledge what happened, and you’re clearly not going to, so might as well be me.

*Ethan looks down regretfully*

Never have I ever

Jill: Ohhh, I love this game! And look, we even got paddles with I have/I have never.

Ethan: What are we, in high school?

Jill: Would you rather do it with drinks? During work hours?

Ethan: *sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose* Let’s get this over with.

Jill: Knew it.

come into work hungover

*Both raise the ‘I have never’ paddle.*

Ethan: I admit, I was not expecting that.

Jill: You just have to think the worse of me always, don’t you?

Ethan: Speaking as someone that saw you party up at Donahue’s the night after your first shift, yes.

Jill: Okay, fair, but I have an advantage over the rest of people.

Ethan: Which is?

Jill: Genetically speaking, the Valentines don’t get hangovers.

Ethan: You say that now because you’re young.

Jill: My brother is not, and he still doesn’t know what having a hangover is like. And we’ve obviously tried it out.

Ethan: Okay, I’ll concede. That’s an unfair advantage.

*Jill grins widely and winks*

had a fistfight

*Ethan lifts the ‘I have never’ paddle*

Jill: Liar. You told me you punched Nash.

Ethan: For it to be a fight, the counterpart has to actually throw a punch as well. Nash never got the chance.

Jill: Okay, then I never have either.

Ethan: *blinks in surprise* You’ve punched someone?

Jill: A kid at school bullied my little sister once.

Ethan: Once?

Jill: Yes. I gave him a black eye, and he never dared to say anything else about Ivy.

Ethan: How heroic.

Jill: *shrugs* My sister was mortified, as the delicate princess she is, but I think it was worth it.

Ethan: It’s a little hard to imagine, given your height.

Jill: The smallest are always the feistiest ones. We’re like Chihuahuas.

been kicked out of a bar

*The two of them raise the ‘I have’ paddle*

Jill: You?

Ethan: A friend of mine from med school got a little carried away. What about you?

Jill: I was busted with a fake I.D.

Ethan: You went to a bar when you were underage?

Jill: Does it make it better if I say I wasn’t drinking?

Ethan: Why else would you go to a bar?

Jill: It was initiation week at Léman Prep.

Ethan: *blinks several times in confusion* I’ll pretend to know what you’re talking about.

Jill: Well, you know how high school was like. If I hadn’t done that, they would’ve eaten me alive. It was survival 101.

Ethan: What happened afterwards?

Jill: I made the headlines, and my grandparents had to pay a shit ton of money and pull a lot of strings to bury the scandal. And I got the biggest lecture and grounding of my life.

gotten a tattoo

*Both show the ‘I have never’ paddle*

Ethan: It’s not my thing.

Jill: Neither is mine.

broken someone’s heart

Jill: I have. My older sister nicknamed me ‘heartbreaker’ during my high school years.

Ethan: And you say this proudly?

Jill: I’m not proud of it, I’m just saying it how it is. I’ve always been clear with people about what I want and what I don’t. I don’t lead them on with false promises, but a few of them tried to change my mind, unsuccessfully.

Ethan: Well, I don’t think I have.

*Ethan lifts the ‘I have never’ paddle. Immediately, Jillian takes it from him and switches it for the ‘I have’ paddle. She doesn’t say anything else, just looks away, pained, and Ethan just stares at her aghast.*

been in love

*Both choose the ‘I have never’*

Ethan: I don’t believe in being in love.

Jill: I do, but I don’t think it’s for me. I had to watch my older sister almost lose herself from the heartbreak it brought her, and I don’t want that…

For Jillian (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Jill: Professionally speaking, I see him still at Edenbrook, running the diagnostics team. He’s really committed to the team’s vision, helping those who have nowhere else to go. Probably with a new book out and a lot more of research published as well. He’s brilliant like that. Personally… I think he’s too self-sabotaging to actually achieve something in that area. Although, I don’t rule out the possibility of Dr. Ramsey rekindling his romance with Chief Emery. I’ve seen the way they look at each other, and I’m no idiot, something is still there… Either way, I do hope he finds someone that makes him happy. He’s a great man, and he certainly deserves it.

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Jill: I want to say his intelligence, but it’s actually his heart. Underneath all that grumpiness and mean remarks, he actually has a heart of gold, so full of compassion. He cares so much about his patients, and even about interns under his supervision. He goes out of his way for them, and that tells a lot about the kind of man he is.

Last thing he texted you?

Jill: “Dr. Valentine, the results we were waiting on are out. Please make your way to my office. I need another perspective, in case I missed something.” Always so formal.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Jill: *chuckles bitterly* He wouldn’t… ask me out, I mean. Ethan is a man with a serious black and white view of the world, including his moral stand. I already tried to climb the walls he set around himself, and I ended up falling flat on my ass. So I don’t think it would ever happen. If, miraculously, he hit his head, forgot about his current dilemma and asked me out on a date… I’d say yes, in a heartbeat. But I don’t think that’s in the cards.

For Ethan (Jillian is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in her personal life?)

Ethan: Professionally, I see Dr. Valentine surpassing just about any doctor. She’s one of the brightest minds I’ve seen, so it wouldn’t be hard to picture her becoming a big name in medicine. I hope she’ll be in the Diagnostics Team at Edenbrook, but she could land anywhere and still have a successful career, wherever she’ll go. Probably with a book written and research published, maybe even winning awards. She’s that great. Personally, still close with her friends. On the romantic front, I’m not sure… From what I’ve seen, Jillian is not one to settle down. I’ve seen her rejecting good relationship prospects without so much as a second glance, and I’ve heard around that she doesn’t want to commit to anyone… which is good for her, because that means she won’t allow her personal life to interfere with her professional success. Though, I do wish she finds someone that makes her happy, someone worthy of her, that can give her everything she wants and deserves. I hope she finds exactly what she’s looking for.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan: She’s not listening, is she…? *runs a hand over his face in frustration* I know I’m not supposed to, but I find everything about her attractive, from her physical looks to her intelligence, ambition and compassion. But mainly, I think it would be her charm. I know most men would say the same thing, it’s her signature, but the way she carries herself with confidence and charisma, without truly realizing the effect she has on everyone else… She’s witty and flirty, and warm, and… just herself.

Last thing she texted you?

Ethan: “I doubt you missed anything, but I’ll be right there.”

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan: I know for a fact that she wouldn’t ask that. Like I said before, Jillian Valentine is not one to date. Off the record and hypothetically speaking, if our situation was different, I would say yes, without a doubt. Even if I don’t deserve her, even if I’m not worthy of her, I know she’s an incredible woman, and I’d be lucky if she decided she wanted to be with me. But I know better, that’s all hypothetical. In reality, she’s still an intern, running for a spot in my team. Not only would it be unethical and inappropriate, but it also would be damaging to her career and her reputation. She’s worked too hard to get exactly where she is, and I care too much about her to hurt her like that, so it’d be a no.

Tags: @jamespotterthefirst, @takeharryandgo, @aestheticartsx, @choicesfanaf, @fireycookie, @liaromancewriter, @trappedinfanfiction, @tsrookie, @genevievemd, @lucy-268, @writinghereandthere, @queencarb, @gryffindordaughterofathena, @ohchoices, @anntoldst0ries, @bluebellot, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @mysticaurathings, @iemcpbchoices, @itsjustamesshonestly, @shanzay44, @lsdw-blog, @heauxplesslydevoted, @starryeyedrookie, @casey-v, @mercury84choices, @chaoticchopshopheart, @quixoticdreamer16

#newlyweds game with your host bree #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x jillian valentine #dani adores bree #dani answers

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