#One of these days I won't have a colleague standing over my shoulder to remind me 16 y/os cannot order beer and I'll get myself in trouble

[catullansparrowlet]

If I had a nickel for every time the person I'm carding to check I can legally serve them alcohol flips the script on me and accuses me of being too young to serve alcohol, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't much, but it's weird it's happened twice.

[snorky]

hi, so idk if u still write for canucks nils hoglander, so if you don't im so sorry for bothering you. if you do, would you be able to write an imagine where nils is interested in one of the canucks employees, like social media or reporter and is trying to ask her out but fails multiple times before eventually with some help asking her out?

You're A Forbidden Delicacy, And I Won't Leave A Crumb

Hey y’all! And hello to the lovely requester! I still do write for Nils, so thank you for the request (which I really love and got carried away with). I really apologize to everyone for how long this has taken me, my life has been all over the place and I am still trying to get things sorted out, but I truly, from the bottom of my heart appreciate the patience you all have. This is a Nils Höglander fic, with a F!Reporter!Reader, which is a little longer than what my stories are normally. I hope you all enjoy this fic, and please remember to take care of yourself!

Word Count: 6.1k

Pairing: Nils Höglander x F!Reader

Warnings: Romantic tension, kissing? (Let me know if I need to add anything) 

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A knock was heard on the door to her office, where she was deep in her work preparing for tonight’s game, followed by the familiar voice of her colleague and friend. 

“Hey lovely! Here are the spreadsheets and rundown of the stats from the last three games,” her friend said, setting a few papers on her desk.

She smiled back and felt a wave of relief. “Thank you,” she sighed. “I was wondering when the stats would come in from my favorite data analyst.”

“Oh, stop,” she chuckled. “You know how playoffs are.”

She nodded in agreement, noticing that the energy within the air, and more specifically, the arena, was more electrifying than ever. 

Looking up from the documents, she saw one of the players walk by the door, giving her a smile and a friendly wave before walking off. She knew him, Nils Höglander, but she had only had small-talk and nothing more. 

Her friend looked over her shoulder, a knowing smile appearing on her face. “Someone caught your eye?”

The blush on her face seemed to intensify, almost shamefully like a kid caught with candy. “No—” Taking a quick sip of her water, she hoped that the warmth on her face eased up.

“Alright, take it easy, go Canucks!” she cheered as she walked out of the office.

A smile made its way to her face as she turned back to her work. “Go Canucks!”

An hour or two passed by as she worked on reading the documents, preparing how she was going to announce the pregame reports, and making sure everything was finalized and set.

It was a fun, fast-paced job that kept her on her toes constantly, and she thrived in it, living in the rush and wanting more of the adrenaline. More rowdiness from the fans, more chants and cheers, and more passion from the city that was hungry for a cup.

“Hello?”

She drew her attention away from her laptop and towards her door, where she saw Quinn standing there, gear still on from the morning skate and practice.

“Hi Quinn, how can I help you?”

He scanned her desk, seemingly searching for something before his eyes landed on her coffee.

“What’s your go-to Tim’s order?” he asked.

She looked at him quizzically, wondering why he asked such a question out of the blue, but didn’t think too much about it. “Vanilla latte, why?”

“Nothin’” he shrugged, clearly more than nothing. “Have a nice day.” He walked away with a sly smile, making her more confused than nothing.

“You…too, Quinn,” she said, looking at her coffee with suspicion.

As she took a sip, it tasted the same still, maybe a little more room temperature, but nothing odd or wrong. 

A few more hours passed, and before she knew it, the clock was counting down till puck drop. The arena already felt alive, the familiar blue and green decor that hung around her office reminding her.

She got up from her desk, making her way out of her office as her shoes tapped on the floor, echoing down the hall. Having all the important information and stats in her mind, she felt confident about how tonight’s game will go.

When she made it near the rink, she was greeted by a few other of her co-workers, as well as the media crew for the team, gear and equipment and smiles all set. The ice in the rink looked fresh and crisp, ready for a tough game.

“Ready for Game Six?” One of her co-workers asked.

She smiled and straightened up her posture, pride swelling within her. “Born ready. Go ‘Nucks.”

As the camera went live, everything else came naturally to her. The confidence, the excitement, and the adrenaline.

“Welcome back to Rogers Arena everyone, where tonight, the Canucks will face off again against the Nashville Predators in Game Six of the Stanley Cup Playoffs, hoping to eliminate the Predators, and advance to the second round.”

The arena started to fill up with fans, mainly fans of the Canucks, but there were a few Predators jerseys spread throughout. 

Skaters headed out onto the ice, preparing to warm up as the arena cheered for each side, hoping that their team would win tonight’s game.

Adrenaline. Euphoria. Pride. So many emotions swelling inside of her, and she felt so alive and yet lost in a dream.

“As the Canucks hope to grab a win, the spotlight stands on the top players, with Boeser having four goals in this post-season, all within the past three games, and J.T. Miller with six points, pushing the Canucks forward in the playoffs,”

The statistics sounded impressive, and even on paper they looked unbelievable, but it was the Canucks, and she saw the potential long ago as they were developing.

One player especially caught her eye, but she would never admit to who, because it was mainly extremely unprofessional of her, and also because of the complications it could bring up.

And as if the devil cursed her thoughts, she met his eyes as the media crew was moved behind the bench, sharing a smile as he went and got a quick sip of his water before skating back out onto the ice.

“Hoping Höglander scores huh?”

She turned her head quickly to the voice her friend before turning away, hoping she didn’t see the blush that was dusted on her cheeks.

“Best hope is that every Canuck scores one,” she laughed, trying to push the topic somewhere else.

Her friend let out an exasperated sigh, “Oh gosh, and I’d be the one needing to calculate all the stats,”

As the warmups came to an end, a few of the players returned to the bench, Nils being one of them, and he gave her a quick smile and wave before refocusing on the game that his teammates were playing.

With quick plays and quick movements, the puck moved up and down the ice, from offense to defense, keeping everyone in the arena on their toes.

Fans roared with each close call, the atmosphere buzzing, static in the air, and before she knew it, the first intermission was starting.

The players poured into the tunnel, making their way back to the locker room after no goals from either team in the first period. Tensions still felt high, like a cord that could snap at any moment.

She waited out on the bench, fiddling with a pen and her notepad as her manager was trying to find one of the players to interview for a brief moment, hoping to get a word or two about the current game.

After a few minutes, she saw Brock walking out with her manager, a gentle expression on his face as usual.

The interview went smoothly as the rest of the night did, with one goal from the Canucks that led to a win as they advanced to the next round of the playoffs.

In the locker room afterwards, the place was rowdy, players and coaches celebrating their win with as much energy as they could. It set the stage for greatness, hope lingering in the air for a long playoff run.

Across the locker room from the doorway she stood under, her eyes met Nils, looking slightly disheveled, a mess even, but he still looked so, fulfilling. He smiled when he noticed her gaze, his eyes crinkling up.

And as the night eased in, the sky outside a crisp darkness, she walked to her car in the parking lot, her work bag slung over her shoulder as she was ready to go home, exhausted, but at ease.

A gentle smile was plastered on her face, gratitude for every little thing she worked so hard for to end up in the career field she was in, all the work paying off.

As she reached for the car door, she saw a figure walking towards her, at a rather quick pace, and she rushed to try and unlock the car.

The footsteps came closer, near stomping against the ground, and she felt panic.

“Hey! Wait, I need to talk to you!”

Turning her head quickly, her unease didn’t seem to dissipate despite the slightly familiar voice.

She unlocked her door frantically, got inside and locked it immediately, trying to recompose herself, still clutching her bag against her.

The man tapped on the window, causing her to lose the color in her face for a quick moment before realizing that it was Nils.

Letting out a breath, relief filled her, but she quickly started to scold him. “Nils, what the hell!”

“Sorry, sorry, I wanted to ask you a question,” he said sheepishly, voice muffled by the fact that he was outside.

She rolled down the window, a tight lipped smile on her face. “Yes?” Noticing how he seemed to fidget awkwardly, her expression slowly changed to concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he responded. “I was just wondering if you wanted to grab dinner with me sometime, I’d like to get to know you more,”

His face was a pinkish tint, illuminated by the interior light of her car. A warm blush started to envelope her face at his question, but she knew it felt wrong.

“Nils, I’m sorry but as much as I would like that, it would be unprofessional for the both of us, and we could lose our job.” Her tone remained professional, but there was a twinge of somberness within it.

A disappointed, but understanding smile appeared on his face. “I get it.” He was still sweet as ever, and she even felt a little guilty at her answer. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Alright, have a good night Nils, you did great tonight,” she smiled.

Smiling back, he gave her a nod of appreciation. “You did as well. Have a good night,”

He walked away from her car, looking back only once to notice that she kept her eyes on him, but pulled away when he saw.

She drove away, off into the night where the traffic died down, and where the Vancouver glow was as dreamy as it always was to her, an ageless magic.

Morning came, sunrise bright and early as she arrived back at the arena. There was no game planned for the day, only practice and training to prepare for the next game.

As she walked down the hall to her office, she noticed that her door was open, despite having locked it the night before. The only people who were also in the arena as early as her were the players, coaches, and athletic trainers. 

Stepping into her office, she saw a cup of coffee placed on her desk, along with a sticky note beside it. It smelt familiar, and as she took a sip, she noticed that it was her order.

She read the sticky note, and it was a sweet message from Nils hoping that her day would go well, and a smile drawn at the end.

It was a sweet gesture, and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling at the note as she read it over again, somehow trying to dissect a deeper meaning.

“Oh, so you found it,” Quinn chuckled.

Startled by his sudden presence, she jumped, spilling a little bit of coffee on her sweater. 

“Ow!” Yelping in slight pain, her face was hot in embarrassment. “Sorry, I’m okay,” she laughed nervously, attempting to somehow magically wipe the stain away.

“I should apologize,” he said, grabbing some tissues from her desk. “Nils is not going to be too happy with me for making you spill coffee on your clothes,”

Like clockwork, he walked by her office and saw the commotion, brow perked up in curiosity. “What about me?”

Turning her head over to look at him, she had a sheepish smile, still holding the note and coffee in her hands. “Hi, Nils.”

He noticed the stain on her clothes, and motioned to her to give him a minute as he ran off, leaving both Quinn and her confused.

Setting the tissues on the table, he muttered out an apology before running off after Nils down the hall.

Now, she was even more confused, unsure of everything that had happened. Putting everything down, she settled on just starting on her work, checking emails and the schedule for the day.

Minutes passed by, and her friend knocked on the door to her office, handing her the spreadsheets of the statistics. 

“Good morning lovely, I got you your stats in case anyone was up for interviews today,” she said, still sweet as ever.

Giving her a light laugh, she shook her head. “Thanks, but no thanks. Spilled coffee on myself and I don’t think I’d like to be on camera today.” She pointed to her clothes.

“Awh, really? That’s terrible,” she sighed, sitting down in the chair in front of her desk. “If I had a spare shirt, I’d give it to you in a heartbeat.”

She put her hand over her heart, “Really? You’re always so sweet,”

Another knock came on her door, and they both looked up from her laptop and documents. Nils was standing here under the doorframe, holding a Canucks sweatshirt in his hands.

“Did I interrupt something?” His voice was barely above a whisper, careful and cautious.

She shook her head with a smile, motioning for him to come in. “Not at all,”

Her friend gave her a smirk and a knowing look. “I need to go get something from my office, see you near the rink,” she said, standing up and walking out of her office.

It was just him standing and her sitting in the office now, the hum of her speakers playing music softly, and time flowed like a river of honey.

The way he looked at her was gentle, warm, and she wanted him to keep looking at her like this forever. His slightly disheveled hair made him look even more raw, something in its purest form.

“I got you one of my sweatshirts,” he spoke softly, afraid to break the air that seemed so intoxicating. “So you don’t have to wear the one with the coffee stain.”

His eyes seemed to observe her every movement, trailing up her arm and to her face as she looked up at him.

She placed her hand on his forearm cautiously, afraid of him pulling away. “You didn’t have to Nils, I’m alright.”

Shaking his head, he wouldn’t take her words. “I insist,”

Her hand moved towards the sweatshirt hesitantly, eyes still looking at him, and stopping before actually reaching it.

“It’ll look better on you, and probably more comfortable.” His voice was quiet, his words easing from his lips.

Silently nodding, she accepted the sweatshirt from his hands as he kept his gaze on her. The air was hot and thick, like a jelly-dessert with extra sweet whipped cream dolloped on the top, a tart maraschino cherry reminding her of the consequences if she made a mistake. 

She got up from her desk, walking over to the door of her office. “I’ll go change into this, you can stay a little longer.” Twisting the doorknob, she walked out, leaving Nils still standing there in her office, leaning against the desk.

When she came back from the bathroom, his Canucks sweatshirt on her loosely, holding her stained sweater, he was still there, just as she hoped, but yet, she felt the fear of being caught creeping up on her.

“Don’t you have practice?” she asked, voice careful.

He tilted his head quizzically, almost pondering her words delicately. “You know I have more than a few minutes to spare,” he said, walking over to her. “Most of the guys don’t come into the locker room until ten anyways.”

His hand trailed to the bottom hem of her sweatshirt, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. Looking up at her, he searched for any sign of discomfort, and she stood there, looking back at him, blushed and flustered, wanting more of him.

“Don’t be so nervous, it’s just us in here,” he whispered. “This looks a lot better on you than it does on me, keep it.”

As he let go of the sweatshirt, she found herself wanting to feel his touch on it again, but when she looked up, he was already waving good-bye as he walked out of her office.

A sigh escaped her lips, unaware of the breath that she held. She walked back to her desk, flipping through the documents as she waited for time to pass.

None of it felt real. The past few moments, or even days, were slightly different and odd. Maybe it was the rush of the playoffs, skewing everything into a different perspective, or maybe, it was something else that she was too afraid to admit. 

Her phone buzzed on her desk, causing her to be pulled away from her work.

We need you near the ice right now - Fav Data Analyst

No you don’t?

Yeah you’re right, but I miss you :( - Fav Data Analyst

Okay, be down in a bit

Smiling at the messages, she felt grateful for how tight-knit the crew seemed to be, feeling like a second family.

Shortly later, she was met with the smile and wave of her friend, calling her over to the bench. A few other members of the media and training crew were also at the bench, watching the practice unfold in front of them.

“So glad you’re here, it gets a little lonely,” 

She looked at her in slight confusion, “With all these people around you?” She gestured.

“They’re not you,” her friend shrugged.

Laughing at her words, she noticed that it caught the attention of Nils on the ice, his eyes almost burning into her for a brief moment.

“You’re such a flirt, unnecessary.”

Her friend raised a brow at her, observing the sweatshirt that she was wearing. “I think that the only thing unnecessary is the fact that I’m one-hundred percent sure I’ve seen that sweatshirt somewhere,”

Rose tinted her cheeks as she felt slightly embarrassed, knowing that her friend knew exactly where she got the sweatshirt from.

A few minutes passed by, and she saw that Nils was skating back to the bench to grab a drink of his water. The way he looked at her while taking a sip could only be described as desire, eyeing her up like a kid looking at pastries from outside the glass.

His scruff seemed to fit him perfectly, rough and raw, and at the same time, gentle like himself. The playoffs definitely ignited something in him, and she found herself wanting to watch it all.

Before she could realize, practice was over, and the players were skating off of the ice one by one. Grabbing her bag, she walked back up to where her office was.

It was nearing lunch time, but she wanted to tidy up her office space a bit before heading out. She put the documents that her friend gave to her in a folder, placing it inside of her bag along with her laptop. 

The cup of coffee from Nils was still on her desk, finished and empty, and so she threw it in the trash, but kept the handwritten note.

As she locked the door to her office, she turned around and bumped directly into Nils, crashing into him.

“Shoot! I’m so sorry—”

“You’re okay.”

His strong hands were placed on the sides of her arms, stabilizing her. Looking at him, he was slightly flushed, a bead of sweat or two lining his brow from the practice.

“Sorry, where are you headed?” he asked, hands quickly moving off of her when he noticed what he was doing. “Just wondering, I don’t mean to be weird or anything—”

“Don’t worry about it, Nils. I’m just headed to the Chipotle nearby for a quick lunch,” she said lightly,  almost caught off guard by how less bold he seemed compared to earlier.

A bright smile appeared on his face, “Oh, really? Because I was just about to head over too,” he laughed, a sweet blush dusting his face.

“Awh, that’s neat.” Her response was less than what she wanted to say, but she wanted to keep it professional. 

They both walked towards the exit of the arena together, silence shared between the both of them as they were greeted by the warm weather, unfamiliar for Vancouver.

The streets were busy as usual, the rush of traffic coming and going, but it didn’t bother her since she was walking, not driving. As much as she hated traffic, she couldn’t deny the fact that it looked mesmerizing from afar at night, the glow of the headlights mimicking the city.

When she arrived at the restaurant, it was jam packed with people, not surprising for the time of day, but it was something that she wasn’t expecting. 

She felt an arm nudge her side, drawing her attention towards Nils.

“I’ll pay for our food, it’s on me,”

“You don’t have to—”

He shook his head in disagreement, motioning for her to get in the queue with him, to which she followed behind him as they waited in line.

Her eyes scanned the room nervously, hoping to not see her boss or any of her co-workers at the restaurant since she was out with Nils. 

If she was caught, she could potentially lose her job, which meant everything to her, but more importantly, she would have to be away from those she grew closest to. Away from Vancouver, and away from Nils.

And as if on cue, he started speaking, only loud enough for the both of them to hear. “Management won’t fire us for having a friendly lunch together, we’re okay,”

She simply nodded in response, a tight-lipped smile that still had a hint of unease to it.

After they got their orders, they decided to go back into the arena to eat rather than at the restaurant, food in hand as they walked there. It was a quiet and peaceful walk, but the weather started to turn into a cloudy gray, rain threatening to fall.

Looking up at the sky, she could tell it was only going to get worse. “Weather doesn’t look too good,” she mumbled, hoping that her papers wouldn’t get ruined.

He hummed in response, also looking up at the sky. “We should hurry,”

“Oh, really?” Her tone was sarcastic as she laughed, which in turn caused him to laugh as well.

He had a mischievous look in his eyes, and she knew that he had something in mind. “I’ll race you to the lounge in the arena,”

Before she could speak, he was already sprinting in the direction of the arena, and she followed suit, wondering how she would even catch up.

While she was running after him, she saw Elias near the front, most likely waiting for his food to be delivered.

“Petey! I need you to do a quick favor for me please,” she blurted, slightly out of breath.

He looked at her in confusion, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Yeah?”

“I need you to unlock the lounge door.”

Shrugging, he led the way to the elevator as they headed up to the floor that the lounge was on. He then unlocked the door, to which she thanked him plenty of times for as he walked back to get his own food.

Throwing herself onto one of the chairs that was in the lounge, she let out a sigh of relief, food still in the bag and unopened.

“How on earth did you get here before me—”

She turned her head to the door, seeing Nils there, panting, out of breath, hand holding onto the door frame. His hair was soaked, dripping onto his shirt, most likely from the rain that started to fall harder since she got inside. 

“I went through the front entrance,” she said nonchalantly. “Why?”

A surprised look was scrawled on his face. “The front entrance wasn’t under construction?”

She shook her head to his question.

“Why did Petey tell me that it was?”

A laugh bubbled out from her throat, causing her to hunch over as he sat down across from her. “Petey—he—let me in and use the elevator and pass to get in the lounge with no hesitation,”

While she found the situation hilarious, he on the other hand, was embarrassed, face flushed red.

“You owe me lunch next, that was foul play.” He opened his bag and started eating his burrito bowl, sitting comfortably on the couch.

Her lunch was already in her hands, the warmth radiating from it nicely as she got cozy. “Nope.”

They both ate quietly in the lounge, the sound of the rain tapping on the windows gently as Vancouver became a grayish gloom, completely different from the warm, comforting glow of the lounge lights.

It felt eerily domestic, the quiet peace, the shared, comforting silence, too strange to even consider it something just in the workplace between Nils and her. It felt like something that she could get lost into so easily, something along the lines of a classic fairytale romance.

“What’cha staring at?”

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and a rose-tinted blush was dusted over her face as she averted her glance.

“Nothing, just lost in thought,” she shrugged, hoping to play it off.

Her food was nearly finished, only small bits and scraps left which she prodded with her fork as she was deciding on whether or not she should throw it away or take it home.

The phone in her pocket buzzed, causing her to get up and throw the food away before excusing herself, walking into the hall to pick up the call.

“Hello?”

The familiar voice of her friend could be heard through the phone. “Hey, where are you? I thought you would be in the office by now.” 

“Oh, sorry. I got caught up with something. Do you need me there now?”

“More like caught up with someone,”

Even through the phone, she could tell that her friend was giving her a knowing look accompanied with a wink.

“But anyways, I don’t need you ASAP but just enjoy your lunch with that special someone. Get back to me when you can.”

She let out a sigh, having already been outside the lounge. “Will do, love you lots.”

Her friend reciprocated the departure as she hung up, sliding the phone back into her pocket as she made her way to her office.

Nils left the lounge shortly after she hung up the phone, but he heard the last part of her call, which set him on edge. He didn’t know much about her personal life, and he wasn’t even sure if he was overstepping some personal boundaries of hers. 

As the days passed, tensions rose in the arena as the Canucks went against the Oilers. Everyone felt restless, unease, not being able to properly get comfortable. Even after each win, it still felt like it wasn’t enough.

She stared at her laptop screen, sifting through the goals scored and other notable statistics of each game, somehow searching for a way to win with full certainty. Her fingers tapped against the desk nervously, and it felt like every poster and memorabilia on the wall was a relic to pray to.

The sound of childish bickering could be heard outside of her office, and she leaned back to try and get a glance at who it was. “Come in? The door is open I think—”

Her door swung open, and there stood a flustered Nils and a giggly Quinn attempting to push him into the room, whispering some sort of encouragement.

“Is everything alright?” She turned her chair to face the door, slowly getting up.

His playoff beard was starting to grow more, giving him a more masculine look that made her slightly weak, but he still kept a soft gentleness that she always liked from him.

“If I score tonight, will you get dinner with me?” Nils’s voice was quiet and nervous, but Quinn still stood in the doorway, waiting for a response from her.

She gave him a smirk, and she felt a wave of boldness overcome her. “I know you’ll score anyways, but we have a deal,”

He smiled with a blush and waved her goodbye as he ushered Quinn and him out of her office.

Time didn’t seem to pass quick enough, and she found herself pacing back and forth from her office to the rink. She had already prepared her report, all the information and stats needed for the pre-game announcements.

Taking in a deep breath, she tried to remind herself that the game would go well, but the pre-game jitters still ran rampant inside of her.

At the end of the hall, she could see her friend waving her over, holding something in her hands. As she walked closer, she could see that it was two Canucks jerseys, unnumbered and unnamed.

“I didn’t know which one you’d want—well I did know, but I didn’t want any rumors to spread for professionalism’s sake—so I got you a jersey for the game tonight.” She smiled.

It made sense, but she didn’t know why she was allowed to wear a jersey tonight. “Management let you?” she said, confused.

“Yeah, odd, but I don’t mind it.” She placed the jersey in her hands, the athletic material brushing against her palms. “Hoping we snag a win tonight,”

She let out a sigh, anxious but hopeful. “Me too,”

A few minutes before puck drop, she stood near the glass beside the rink, the blue and green lights of the arena giving the place an eerie glow.

Her jersey was on, Canucks emblem proudly displayed on the front as she got ready to give the pre-game report.

“Welcome everyone to Rogers Arena where the Canucks are facing off tonight against the Edmonton Oilers, hoping to get a win in this series. Tonight, the focus and spotlight is shifted onto our players to watch, having performed greatly these past few games,”

The camera was then panned to the players practicing on the ice as she moved to the bench, standing behind the players beside the coaches and athletic crew.

And as the game started, the arena was tense. The sounds of the stick smacking on the ice could be heard, cheering, chanting, and puck calling all too familiar. The building was loud and the fans were riled up, hoping to not be let down.

Minutes passed by, and the puck was being moved up and down the ice, and just as it made it into the offensive zone for the Canucks, leading to a goal for Elias Petterson.

Fans cheered and shouted as the goal horn went off, banners flying and waving through the air as the players celebrated the first goal of the game. 

She cheered from the bench as well, celebrating with her colleagues and friends, full of adrenaline and joy. Even though Nils hadn’t scored yet, she was still hopeful that he would, having seen a couple of close calls that bounced off of the post or barely stopped by the goalie.

As the first period came to an end, the players filed off into the locker room as the media crew and her gave a quick first intermission report.

She could feel her heart beating in her chest, the oh so familiar feeling of being high with the rush of energy, the way it felt so unreal despite experiencing it over and over again.

Before she knew it, the second period was starting, players in their position in the neutral zone waiting for the puck to hit the ice. Her eyes watched every player carefully, observing each number and and keeping note of who is where and when at every second. 

When she saw Nils get onto the ice, time felt like it was solid as she held her breath. 

He weaved through the other players, gaining possession of the puck before passing it back to Quinn.

As the goalie thought Quinn was going to shoot, he passed it back to Nils, who scored a wrist shot that went over the goalie and into the goal.

The horn went off as the fans started to cheer wildly, the players celebrating on the ice again with picturesque smiles and hugs while she was on the bench, face dusted with a blush as she tried her hardest to play it off as over-exerted cheering.

She could see the smirk on his face, knowing that the deal was already set, and she could also see how Quinn was pointing at Nils, most likely teasing him about the bet.

The game went on, slower than what she wanted, but by the end of it all, it was a two-nothing victory for the Canucks, leading to a happy team, and more specifically, a happy Nils. The locker room was amped, music blaring as she walked by, the sound of grown men trying their best to sing along, and a smile scrawled on her face.

She had already done the post-game report, albeit, a very rushed one with a flustered look on her face, but she tried her hardest to remain as professional as possible. Her bag was packed and all ready to head home, files and papers in folders, laptop in its case, and every muscle in her body felt ready to collapse.

 The rain was rampant outside, splashing in puddles outside on the concrete, and she knew she had to either be quick, or deal with a soaked jersey, and the last option did not sound too pleasant.

Staring into the now empty parking lot, she allowed herself to take a few deep breaths in, feeling the cool air fill her lungs, and breathing out, with her muscles relaxing.

She could hear footsteps behind her, but like a second instinct, she knew exactly who it was.

“Nils,” she said quietly.

He paused before taking another step towards her, the air now seemingly filled with a static. “You’re going to catch a cold,”

“You as well.”

A small chuckle escaped his lips, followed by a sigh. “Let’s get to your car first, then we’ll talk,”

She led the way to her car, hair becoming more messy and soaked from the rain. When she looked back, she saw Nils following behind her, but he looked even more tempting with his unkempt hair.

Placing her bag in the car, she turned back to Nils, seeing him stand there waiting for her.

He looked at her, observing every detail of her with no shame. “That jersey looks beautiful on you, ya’know?”

“Oh, stop it, Nils,” she blushed. “When and where is the dinner I was promised?”

Pulling out his phone, he asked for her number, to which she gave him it. She had trust that he would actually follow through with his promise, and so she didn’t ask for him to check it again.

“I mean it, you look gorgeous and always have. Even right now.”

She looked up at him, admiring his features silently for a few while her fingers ghosted over the lapel of his suit.

“May I?” He asked, hand hovering over the small of her back.

As soon as she nodded, he pulled her into a tender kiss, lips pressed against hers. It felt like everything from the past few weeks all started to become worth it, the waiting, the stares and glances. All of it.

The rain continued to fall between them, cold against the warmth of their bodies, and she didn’t want to pull away any time soon.

Her eyes remained shut, but she knew he looked so handsome with his lips pressed to hers. His scruff was scratching against her face, but she knew that she wouldn’t ever mind it at all.

Butterflies were loose inside of her, fluttering wildly as if she waited for this moment for far too long.

His touch, his fingers against her chin was full of sparks, and his other hand on her back seemed to be the only thing grounding her to reality, reminding her that this moment was real, and forever in her memories.

When they both finally pulled away, breathing heavily, their lips were swollen and tender, smiles painted on their faces. 

He had a sort of angelic glow to him, ethereally irresistible, and she pulled him in for a quick peck once more.

“Can’t get enough of me already?” He chuckled.

She shook her head as she opened her car door, sitting inside as she gave him a gentle smile. “Could never get enough of you.”

He took her hand in his palm, giving it a gentle kiss before he waved goodbye to her again. “Please, get home safe,”

“Will do, Nils. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

As she drove off with a dopey smile, she could still feel the warmth of him and each touch of his vividly, and she knew the glow of the lights in Vancouver would never be the same again. 

[ikaroux]

Diluc x F!Reader: Dry your tears. (18+)

Synopsis: You have the impression that nothing goes right in your life. Your job, your friends, your boyfriend... Your tears won't stop flowing.

Style: Female reader, romantic, depression, tears, angst, emotional support.

Alert: NSFW (18+) I remind minors to avoid reading this kind of content.

Characters: Diluc.

Note: Since I'm really not feeling well right now (morally), I needed to write something with Diluc, since I have a block on everything else... This character is a real lifeline for me.

Masterlist

For several weeks, your morale had been down. You had the feeling that nothing was going right in your life, that you were hitting rock bottom. You couldn't stand your work anymore, you weren't laughing with your friends. You were suffocating. As for your boyfriend, Diluc, you couldn't help but feel that he was far too good for you.

After all, he was once the most sought-after bachelor in Mondstadt and you... were nothing. How many times did you look in the mirror and think that you were not beautiful, not elegant, not intelligent and certainly not rich. What could he possibly see in you? As the days passed, you felt more and more overwhelmed by pain and sadness.

You were breaking...

Diluc could see this and had tried to talk to you several times, but as with your friends, you had faked a smile, telling him that everything was fine and that you were just tired.

"y/n! I can see that it's not okay, please talk to me." - He pleaded with you, holding your arm before you left. You turned to him, placing one of your hands on his warm cheek. The winter wind blew over both of you, and for a few seconds, the warmth that emanated from Diluc soothed you...

"I'm fine, really." - Diluc sighed through his nose, gently catching your hand on his cheek. His thumb stroked you tenderly. He gently removed your hand from his cheek to bring it to his lips.

"You don't know how to lie my love..." - Diluc knew you well, it had been almost a year since you were dating and he had learned to recognize all your tics, all your weaknesses. - "I have work to do tonight, but as soon as I'm done, I'll come meet you at your place." - Diluc placed loving kisses on each of your fingers again.

"You don't have to. You're exhausted after your battles with the mages of the abyss. I'd rather you rest." - Diluc's expression broke for a brief moment.

"Don't you want me by your side?" - He said sadly. Diluc was afraid... he didn't know what was bothering you, and he had noticed that at the moment you were looking for excuses to get away from him. He thought... that maybe you didn't love him anymore...

"It's not that... Tomorrow if you want...?" - Another sigh escaped Diluc's lungs, and he nodded reluctantly. Slowly, you slid your hand out of his to start walking away from him. - "Well... see you tomorrow then." - Your tone was bland, unconvincing, you didn't even wait for him to respond or kiss you before you started to walk away from him.

Diluc watched you go down the dark alley, his heart in pieces. His hand came to rest against his chest where he could feel his heart beating rapidly. He was sure that your feelings for him had faded... He didn't want to be a burden to you.

Whether you liked it or not, he would come to you tonight.

The day ended slowly. You left work with a sinking feeling in your stomach... You felt like crying... You couldn't stand anything. You felt like you were sinking in deep, dark water, never quite reaching the bottom. Your colleagues asked you out to cheer you up, but you refused. In fact... you wanted Diluc to be there. But in this state, you would be a burden on his shoulders, you didn't want to annoy him, or cry in front of him. He had always known you to be smiling and positive, and disappointing him would be the worst thing that could happen to you.

Once back home, you didn't bother to cook yourself any dinner, preferring to throw yourself into bed and bury your face in the pillow Diluc used when he came to sleep over. The smell of wine and grapes was still on it. His name flashed through your mind, bringing tears to your eyes. You felt so bad. Dark thoughts were running through your mind. You were just a useless heavy weight, maybe it was better for everyone if you disappeared?

Shocked by your own thoughts, your jaw clenched painfully as your tears began to overflow. You couldn't hold back the moans and sobs that formed an unpleasant knot in your throat. Your trembling fingers clutched desperately at the cushion cover as you hid your face in it to cover the sounds you were making. Your tears and muffled screams did not allow you to hear the front door open and close. You were in your bubble, overwhelmed and broken.

When Diluc entered your house with the key you had left for him, he was surprised to see no lights on. At first he thought you hadn't come home from work yet. An anguish slowly twisted his stomach. What if something had happened to you on the way home? Immediately, Diluc turned around to go back out to look for you, only to be stopped by the muffled sounds of your sobs. Your voice came from the bedroom, where Diluc ran to join you. He found you lying curled up on the bed, your face buried in a pillow. With a hurried step, he joined you by the bed, sitting behind you and turning you toward him. At the sight of his face, you quickly hid yours in your arms.

"Diluc... Diluc..." - Your voice was shaky and exhausted. Diluc gently pulled your arms away from your face to help you sit up. He wrapped you in a reassuring embrace, caressing your hair and lower back. His lips gently kissed the base of your tear-soaked neck.

"I'm here, dry your tears my love. Tell me what's got you in this state. Is it my fault?" - Your hands clutched at his coat, your sobs turned into a scream. Diluc couldn't bear to see you in this state of distress, but he waited patiently for you to calm down so he could get answers to his questions. He continued to caress and kiss you, sometimes drying the tears in your eyes with his fingertips.

"It's not you Diluc, it's me. I'm worthless. I'm worthless. I can't stand anything anymore. I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I don't deserve you... Look at me, I'm a burden, I feel so stupid and ugly. I don't want to shame you. I would like to disappear!" - Shocked by your words, Diluc stopped you as you lay down abruptly on the bed, looking you straight in the eyes with a hint of fear and concern.

"I forbid you to think that! You are not a fool. In my eyes, you are a beautiful, sweet and sensitive woman. You have a lot of good qualities. I wish you could see yourself as I see you. If you disappeared, I... I couldn't bear it!" - Your tears stopped flowing as Diluc's came splashing down on your face. You pursed your lips, thinking once again that you were a fool.

"Sorry Diluc, sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." - You raised a trembling hand to him, but it was caught on the fly by his. He lovingly kissed the back of your hand.

"Don't apologize. Just promise me you'll never have those kinds of thoughts again... Or else talk to me. I want to be your pillar... I want to support you and help you, in good times and in bad. You are not a burden, you are my treasure, the one I want to live with for the rest of my life..." - Diluc leaned towards you until his forehead gently hit yours."I love you." - Your tears flowed again. Diluc was a blessing in your life, a light in the darkness of your heart. Your arms wrapped around his neck. One of his hands intertwined with yours, his thumb tenderly caressing your skin while the other continued to dry your tears. He continued to whisper his love for you until you calmed down. Diluc lay between your legs the whole time, not wanting to move away from you. He listened to you tell him everything that was on your mind. What was wrong at work. How tired and anxious you were. The loneliness you felt. The times when you thought about him but couldn't see him. The way you described your current discomfort. He didn't cut you off, waiting for you to finish before offering to take a few days off to rest both of you at his place. This cheered you up a bit. Indeed, spending some time alone with him would do you a world of good.

"Kiss me Diluc." - He smiled tenderly before he did so. His kiss was soft, filled with love and tenderness. He found a little sparkle in your eyes.

"Do you want to sleep?" - He asked you gently. Of course you were tired, but having Diluc by your side gave you some strength.

"No. I want you." - You whispered, a blush settling on your cheeks, which also made your boyfriend blush. Diluc stepped back, leaning on his forearms to get a better look at you. You could already feel his member hardening in his pants and see his eyes darken with desire.

"S-sorry... I-I'm not sure it's really right to do it now. You're not well..." - You ran your thumb over his lower lip.

"Thanks for listening to me Diluc. I feel a little more... light now. I love you, I'm happy to have you in my life." - You grabbed his hair to bring him closer to your lips. Diluc obediently let you kiss him, tasting the flavor of your lips. It was a slow, sensual kiss, and between each gasp, you whispered his name. Diluc let himself be drawn in by your gestures, finally agreeing to let his desire for you take over. He was going to make you forget your pain, even if it was only for a few moments. You slowly began to undo your lover's clothes, first removing his tie and then the buttons on his jacket. Diluc did the same with your clothes, caressing every bit of skin he could reach. Diluc's coat and shirt were quickly thrown to the ground, your clothes following their example. Although Diluc loved to worship your lips, he also wanted to worship the rest of your body, showing you how beautiful he thought you were through his caresses and kisses. Usually quiet during sex, he was surprisingly talkative today, whispering words of love and reassurance to you. He wanted you to forget all your sorrows, to erase your dark thoughts.

Completely naked under him, you were vulnerable and open to him. His lips brushed the skin of your neck, going down to the birth of your breasts. Before going any lower, he made sure to harden the mounds of your breasts a little more with his thumb and forefinger before cherishing them with his lips. A deep growl escaped his throat as he heard the moan of his name escape from your lips swollen from his kisses. You were squirming underneath him, begging him to continue to lower his lips. He wasn't going to upset you.

His tongue slowly began to lick the outline of your breast before his mouth closed around your nipple, sucking and biting the tip between his teeth. The sounds of his kissing against your skin filled the room. One of his hands moved down your waist, tenderly brushing your skin. She moved down to your hip, then your thigh to your knee, before moving sensually up to your lower abdomen. As his mouth moved to the other breast, his index finger found your clitoris. He began a slow, pleasurable massage around your sensitive nerve, causing your hips to tilt for more contact.

Your hands clutched at his hair.

"Di-luc... Ah! Gnn... Em-embrace me..." - He heard the sobs in your voice and lifted his head to passionately bind his lips to yours. His thumb continued to massage your clitoris while two of his fingers moved lower, to your slit already ready for him. Diluc stroked your entrance, dipping his fingers into your fluid before slowly working them into you. He went deep, knowing perfectly the most sensitive places hidden inside you. His hand slowly rocked, making you moan softly into his mouth. The noises you both made as you kissed excited you further. Your walls tightened around his fingers, which quickened their pace in return. He could feel the heat rising inside you, and to help you cum, he added a third to the other two. Diluc moved away from your kiss to rest on his free forearm, giving him a better position for his fingers to go faster and deeper into you, rubbing all the more sensitive places. He watched you cum with tender, fascinated eyes.

He gave you time to recover from your orgasm, continuing a slow rocking of his hand until your spasms ended.

"Diluc, keep going, don't stop." - He kissed you with a smile.

"I wasn't planning to stop. I was simply admiring your beauty." - He stood over you, not taking his eyes off you. You were red with embarrassment. You spread your thighs more so that he could settle a little more comfortably between your legs. Diluc leaned once again towards you to bind your lips together. - "I'm going to come in, is that okay?" - You could feel him placing his tip in front of your entrance. Not being able to take it anymore, you nodded vigorously. Smiling warmly, Diluc settled into your neck, one arm placed on your lower back, holding you tightly against him while his other hand guided his member inside your womanhood. He let a soft moan slip out of him as he penetrated you, reaching the bottom without much resistance. Once he was deep inside you, Diluc stood up on his forearms to look into your eyes. His gaze was one of adoration for you. One of his hands stroked your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear. "If only you could see yourself the way I see you... you are so beautiful. I love you so much" - His words brought tears to your eyes. Diluc wiped away the few tears that were beginning to fall down your cheeks. You realized how lucky you were to have him in your life. You felt loved.

Diluc was the only one who could help you get back on track. Your thoughts were now only of him.

Your lover kissed you one last time before straightening up a little more on his forearms to begin a slow, languid rocking of his hips, making you moan with pleasure at the feel of him inside you. Your hands would seek out the movements of his back, his shoulder blades each time he exited and entered you, little grunts escaping from him. He would keep his rhythm slow, wanting to make the moment last as long as possible. He knows you won't last long. Your exhaustion could be seen in your dark circles and your pallor. Even though Diluc was a man of stamina in bed, he preferred to put your pleasure and well-being ahead of his own. Slow sex was something you both found pleasurable. Diluc took advantage of this intimacy to cherish you and feel you, just as you did. Each time he penetrated you, it was with a more abrupt stroke, so that he could touch that place that made you moan with pleasure. Not for a moment did he take his eyes off you. At times, Diluc would stop his rocking and simply roll his hips against yours, his sex deep inside you. His hands touched you as if you were the most beautiful treasure in the world. One of them caressing your thigh, slowly moving up from your knee to the roundness of your buttocks, the other gently tending to your breasts. His lips were never far from yours.

Diluc took the time to build up the tension in you, gradually feeling your walls tighten around him.

You felt your end approaching. Diluc moved closer to your face, his tongue licking your earlobe before moving up your jaw to your mouth. Claiming the entrance to it, you opened your lips so he could kiss you, tangling your two muscles together. Diluc accelerated the movement of his hips to help you reach your climax. You moaned his name over and over until your orgasm had you clenching around him. Diluc grunted, trying to follow you to your end.

The closer he got, the louder his moans became, ringing pleasantly in your ears. Finally, his movements slowed as he let his cum fill you. You could feel the heat coming from him. His heart was pounding in his chest. And when he stopped ejaculating, his movements gradually stopped, until they stopped completely. You knew that one turn was not enough for Diluc, but he withdrew anyway, giving you a rest. Your lover stood over you for a moment, looking you straight in the eyes in pleasant silence. His tender, passionate gaze devoured you. You buried your face in the hollow of his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his back. Diluc let himself go against you, putting his hands under your back to keep you closer to him. He felt your body shake and your tears flow. Your mental and physical exhaustion was catching up with you. Diluc turned to the side of the bed, pulling you with him to lie on his chest. He cradled you, kissing the top of your head and caressing your weakened body. Your eyelids grew heavier and heavier, the warmth from Diluc helping you to sleep.

"I love you, my love. Sleep now. I'll be here when you wake up." - Your eyelids finally closed after Diluc's reassuring words. Sleep came quickly.

Tonight you will sleep a dreamless sleep. Calm and soothing, cradled in the reassuring warmth of the man you loved more than anything.

[xxsycamore]

XX 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓

► SYNOPSIS:

You go to see Napoleon at the police station, entering to the sight of him cleaning his gυn.

Naturally, it arouses your curiosity.

▍police officer!napoleon x afab!reader

▍rating: E (mdni)

▍tags: Gυn Kink; Bad Use of Police Equipment; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Deepthroating A GυN; and not just the gυn; deranged smut; Blow Jobs; Come Swallowing; Police Uniforms 

▍cw: this fic contains usage of a (non-loaded) gυn for sexual purposes, so make sure to avoid reading if this makes you uncomfortable!

▍wordcount:  2,315

▍masterlist

▍a/n: Have you seen the new card? Well, this was my reaction to it. I decided to stick to what I said! Fuck the police am I right? I'll go hide somewhere now. Enjoy ❤

Entering the police station where your boyfriend works as of recently, you know the smile won't leave your face in the foreseen few minutes. For one, because seeing what his noisy bunch of colleagues are up to is always rising your spirits. The guys love you and you love them too - catching a glimpse of them bickering and pausing to greet you, you feel like you're walking through a rowdy share house rather than a police station.

"Congrats, Hondje. Your man sure is quite something to climb the ranks so fast."

To miss someone as large as Theo, you sure must be distracted - but your dreamy smile is quickly morphing into a pout as he tousles your hair. You raise a hand to smack his away but you give up and opt to just fix the ruffled mess he created. His teasing successfully heats up your cheeks at the mention of your boyfriend.

Napoleon was last to join the unit and is already its leader, in just a few months - today being his first day as one officially. Out of the whole palette of emotions surging in you varying from pride to astonishment, a huge portion of embarrassment is now added in the mix as well. You neglected to consider the unit's reaction - and the following teasing.

"Yeah, you know how he is… I don't even know if he was seriously trying for the position."

"Woah there, little bird." Another colleague of his, Arthur, gives your shoulder a pat - which you really prefer over the flirty arm-around-the-shoulder greeting he usually goes by, and winks at you. "Must be nice to have a girlfriend that strokes your ego even when you're not around, huh? That bastard."

"What- No, I didn't mean-"

Before you can defend yourself properly, Theo sighs and walks past the two of you and straight towards the exit, but not without glaring at Arthur.

"Stop talking shit and go clock in already. I'm out."

Arthur is successfully distracted, hands on his hips as he watches Theo's departure and yells an un-heartfelt goodbye at him while he's still in hearing range. Theo just waves behind his back, more at you than anything, and then he's gone. It's Arthur's turn to sigh now, maintaining the posture, and you can't help but think that they're just a liiitle bit alike in some aspects.

"He has the nights off this whole week, and for what? It should be saved for those of us who actually have a social life."

You find it humorous that Arthur laments the loss of another night spent surrounded by girls in a bar, critiquing Theo while actually, as you can recall, the two of them hit those bars together most of the time.

"Ah but not ALL of us have to be lonely." The mischievous glint in his deep blue eyes is unmistakable as he looks at you before you can try to verbalize some kind of sympathy, thus saving you from the white lie -  but probably not for good. "Boss is waiting for you upstairs. In his new office."

Now, there are several important bullet points here to be structured, like what he called him, or the reminder that you'd have to change your usual route to the unfamiliar door instead, but the most exclamation marks stand after the statement that he's waiting for you. Well, yeah, it is the end of his shift and you didn't come here without shooting him a text beforehand, but you're a little too used to seeing him busying himself around the station instead, making himself useful to his best extent. You'll have to wait until after you bid Arthur goodbye to give your cheeks a well-needed little grounding pat each, so you hurry up with getting there.

"Uh-huh. Thanks for letting me know, Arthur. I better not keep him waiting."

***

"Knock knock." You announce your presence, seeing that the office door is wide open - but decide not to keep it that way, closing it from the inside once you step in. You don't want any nosy colleagues peeking in while you give your boyfriend a greeting kiss. Which you leap at him for, right away.

"Hey." He smirks, collecting you in his arms as he's half-seated at the edge of his desk. Inhaling the scent of his cologne that still sticks as strongly to his clothes as it does when he leaves in the morning, your eyelids close to take it better in. It's only when you open them again that you notice what exactly he put to the side earlier in order to give you a hug.

It's the base of his gυn, now set down next to its other parts as it's been taken apart. You faintly remember Napoleon performing a field strip in front of you in one of his early days at the station, and you know that it's done to facilitate cleaning. Which by all looks seems like what you interrupted right now.

Seeing where you attention escaped to, Napoleon lifts your chin with a single finger and nudges it his way, capturing your lips for a kiss. You nearly melt into it and are surprised that he's first to withdraw.

"I was just getting finished here." He maneuvers you to sit on his left thigh as he sits more steadily at the edge of the desk. You're left with no choice but to put your hands around his neck like a koala since he needs his two free to put the gυn together. You don't mind at all, it's a first class seat for the demonstration taking place in front of you.

You watch with avid interest as he picks up the small rag to clean a spot he missed on one of the dismantled parts, his eyes sharpening as he puts attention to the smallest of details with utter concentration.

"Now you go like this…" He begins the assembling, putting the barrel back into place, moving on to the next part and the next until they're all on their places, the process accompanied by occasional guiding words.

He chuckles, producing his trademark snrk noise as he usually does when you give him that sparkly enthusiasm-loaded gaze. He finds it amusing that something that’s an ordinary task for him can capture your interest like that.

"You that impressed, nunuche?"

You crinkle your nose at him in frown which just makes you more kissable in his eyes. He gives your lips a quick peck, gυn still in his hands just underneath your faces.

You lean in for a peck next, and just to play with him and take your revenge for being bullied, you duck and kiss the gυn instead of him.

He knits his brows in offence that is more a jest that anything, but he is interested in the game. He lifts the thoroughly cleaned gυn closer to your mouth and rubs your lips softly with the muzzle, with the intention to nudge your lower lip open so he can go for another kiss, just a small act of tease.

You only get bolder, your lips gaping indeed, but you lean in to wrap them around the tip of the gυn.

Napoleon's facial muscles freeze for a second, his eyes darkening. You can feel the leg you're seated on twitch, and you doubt that it's simply because of it going numb under your weight or something. It only prompts you to readjust your position, grinding your bottom on him under the pretext of getting steadier on top of him.

You forget that it's Napoleon who is in the control of the situation and it's his hand that is holding the object in your mouth.

"You're playing dirty." It's all he says, devoid of the usual smirk that would reach his eyes otherwise - now his demeanor is stoic and his movements calculated. He presses the metal object further inside your mouth, making you change the position of your tongue so you can take it in.

Your eyes widen in alert but you don't move an inch, doing everything to let him known non-verbally that you want this to happen. Thrill sends you heart leaping like crazy. You don't want to be the wiser one and put an end to the dangerous liaison first. And why should it be ended? The gυn is freshly cleaned, not loaded and most importantly in the hands of the one person you trust with your life.

Napoleon lets out a protruded breather, pushing himself away from the desk gradually and thus making you slide downwards with the movement. Your knees meet the floor.

He holds the gυn in front of his crouch, glistening with saliva and ready to be welcomed back in the warm cave of your mouth. You eagerly wrap your lips anew around it. From the position you’re in, to the hard object in your mouth, to your nose pressed up in his uniform trousers, it all reminds you well enough of sucking him off, but the twisted scenario adds to the inferno inside of you. A moan slips from the depth of your throat, and Napoleon presses the object forward.

Thankfully your gag reflex rests unbothered from the thrust, making your head spin with wanton unmarred by caution. You want nothing but for him to deepthroat you with the gυn, and you demonstrate your willingness by closing your eyes. Feeling the familiar itch of desire, your lithe fingers find it easy to rub some stimulation between your legs in your current position, but Napoleon is not so drunk on lust not to notice.

"Hands behind your back."

His tone is stern and you obey on the spot, holding with one hand the wrist of your other in a secure lock. It's then when Napoleon thrusts the gυn inwards again, nearly hitting the back of your throat.

The noises your mouth emits are now more reminiscent of the more heated sessions of oral you'd perform on him, and even in those, Napoleon rarely deepthroats you. The metal object in your mouth is surprisingly well suited for the task, being shorter and thinner than Napoleon's cock that you're so familiar with. He finds the right tempo, holding your hair in one hand and fucking your mouth with the gυn in the other, aquamarine eyes never leaving the sight of it. It's like he wants to burn this into his memory; a scene so filthy it's almost pornographic, borderline taboo - one that would undoubtedly play in his imagination next time he has his fist wrapped around his length.

You begin to drool from the corners of your mouth, the gυn thoroughly coated in your saliva. You begin to rock back and forth softly, your pussy weeping for the absence of something to lodge deep inside in a similar fashion to the attention your mouth receives.

Just as you begin to get lost in the steady rhythm of his thrusts, your toy is taken away from you. The sound of the uniform trousers' zipper pulled undone enters your ears and a new gush of arouse moves throughout your body, almost by instinct alone.

In a flash, Napoleon swaps the gυn with his cock. His breathing is already rigid, being fairly worked up from doing this to you. Now that he claims your mouth with what he knows for a fact is your favorite toy, he can't help but be selfish.

You take the initiative, moaning and groaning around his length at first, coating it in your saliva to lubricate it for what is coming. Of course, that piece of metal can't be more deserving of your best services more than his cock is, and you want to prove it to him.

Napoleon gets you so well, even without words. He waits for you to take it promptly deep in your mouth, and resumes his thrusts - this time not with his hand, but with his hips.

Your hands fail to maintain the previous order and fall from behind your back in the favor of giving you a better balance. You put them on his legs instead, clutching the fabric, crawling further up until you can claw at his rear.

Napoleon whispers to you words of praise; of lustful accusation of how much you turn him on in the worst of places, of how you make him lose control. He warns you of his upcoming peak, and you swallow around his length in expectation, urging him on.

His deft fingers bury themselves in your hair without pulling to the point of pain as a groan escapes his throat. His hips buckle forward and the first stream of cum hits the back of your throat, making you unable to stay still. He wants to withdraw and give you room to breathe but you stubbornly keep most of his length inside your mouth, letting it all splash on your tongue. You suck him until he can't give you any more of his hot cum, and then some.

"You absolute vixen." He racks his fingers through his bangs once he's made sure you're fine and helped back on your feet, even with difficulty. He can't resist to kiss you, and you in turn can't resist to chuckle against his mouth, cutting it too short.

"I was gonna say, congrats on the new office, boss."

His breath hits your cheek as he huffs, slammed by your wits.

"I'm merely putting things to good use as expected of me." He snaps back, this time clamming the kiss that you denied him before you can shy out of it from the way he worded that. He'll ask more about the way you addressed him later. Now all he has in his mind is you in the red dress he bought, seated opposite him as he dines and wines you, celebrating the promotion. That's it, unless his well-thought girlfriend has another plan in mind.

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[ah0rmone]

dazai osamu x fem! reader

warnings: nsfw, minors, dni! dubcon if you squint because the reader finds dazai annoying but attractive, non-consensual touching (at first), enemies/rivals to fuck buddies I guess?, fingering, vaginal penetration.

there are literally two self-defence techniques from here and here

"Why it has to be you?" you grumbled looking at the person who stood in front of you.

"Oh, who else would you like to see as your teacher? Kunikida-kun who's doing everything according to instructions, even fighting? Ranpo-kun who won't lift a finger unless it's a murder case? Or Tanizaki-kun who's always followed by Naomi-chan?"

The obnoxious man in front of you was called Osamu Dazai and, to be fair, you'd actually prefer any other agency member over him. Sure, he definitely had combat experience and, probably, wasn't that bad at teaching, given that Atsushi was still following him. But something about him was off and you didn't like it. Nor that you had any choice, Dazai was there for a reason and that reason was Fukuzawa's order.

"Whatever," you sighed. "Can we get to it already?"

Today was the day when you were supposed to learn some self-defence techniques. Your ability wasn't really of a combat type, so you never participated in fights but it didn't mean that you had a zero possibility of running into problems. It was your own request to be taught how to protect yourself.

However, you didn't feel quite confident at all. You genuinely hated conflicts and tended to avoid people, so all of this was a somewhat essential but still itchy experience. Your sporty shorts and a skintight top wasn't helping the situation either. Especially, since a person with who you were going to get quite close physically was a rather attractive young man. You and Dazai weren't that close, just colleagues who barely communicated. For you he was just as attractive as he was annoying - you wouldn't mind having a fling with him but nothing more. Maybe it was the way he carried himself: overly cheerful, loud and noisy. Or maybe it was the things he was hiding: his true mischievous, manipulative personality.

Taking a deep breath you reminded yourself that it was your idea, something that your survival depended on and that you just had to get over it.

"Usually you're not the one who fights, y/n-chan. So what are we doing here?" Dazai asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

His eyes were gleaming with a vicious sparkle. Your power imbalance was uncomfortable to you. You shrugged, the feeling that he was a big cat and you were his meal strongly sat in your guts.

"I'm here to learn how to defend myself. Like some easy techniques. I'm not very strong, keep it in mind," you reminded with a well-controlled flat voice but some notes of irritation would have been apparent even to the densest person.

Osamu didn't answer, instead, he let his fake smile turn into a smirk. For a moment the room fell into silence and you could swear that your heart was beating too loud. Both of you just stared at each other for some seconds until the smile returned on Dazai's lips and the man joyfully clapped.

"Okay, gotcha! First of all," he took a step closer. "The most important thing in fighting is a stable stance. Stand like this," he put the left leg forward and motioned you to follow him.

Hesitantly you mirrored his stance, the feeling of embarrassment washing over you. It wasn't even the physical activity that you hated but the way Dazai was gazing at you. Predatory eyes were gliding over your skin like he was analysing your tiniest movements. Like he was about to pounce.

Just as you anticipated, once you've finished copying him, Osamu clicked his tongue and stood up.

"No, y/n-chan, you're doing it wrong."

You were about to argue but Dazai was already behind you. Suddenly painfully aware of the warmth of his body you tried to move from him but he was quick to put a hand on your hip.

"Let me help you," his hot breath ran over the shell of your ear making you flinch a little.

While you were contemplating whether you should allow him to be that close, Dazai had already brushed his palm down your leg. Now he was standing next to you, your bodies touching.

"There," he encouraged, moving your leg a little further by the back of your knee. His other hand was still placed on your hip and such a position was taking away any personal space you had before.

"Thanks," you muttered, feeling the light smell of his cologne.

"Now you're standing rather steady, aren't you?" he beamed with his hand still on your leg.

"Ah, yeah," you muttered, grabbing him by the wrist and pushing it off yourself then taking a step back. "Guess, we can move to the actual stuff now."

"Y/n-chan!" Dazai exclaimed. "The stance is very important, I didn't show it for fun!"

You saw the man's lips curl into a pout but either than that he didn't display any sign of irritation by you pushing him away. Keeping that in mind you decided that even though he might not have any ill intentions you should stay on guard.

Something dropped behind the door and as you inverted your gaze to the sound you felt your hair being grabbed.

"What," you didn't even have the chance to end the question instantly being pushed to the wall.

Your colleague's right hand was holding firmly your hair, the other one gripping your waist. You tried to push back, but to no avail - his whole body was pushing you to the wall.

"Dazai," you growled.

"Too bad, y/n-chan," he cooed. "How can you protect yourself when you have such a short attention span? Look at you - one move and you're helpless."

The sting of resentment piercing through your heart encouraged you to grumble through the teeth:

"I told you I'm weak."

"And stupid apparently," he gibbed.

"Listen," you tried to free yourself but instead just shook your hips clumsily. "If you came here just to insult me, let's end it, I'll ask Fukuzawa-san to send someone else," voice full with venom, you wanted to be as far from Dazai as possible but instead felt with dread as your hips bucked into his. You jolted forward fighting for the tiniest bit of space.

If Dazai noticed, he didn't show it as there was no reaction whatsoever. However, your little touch wasn't the only thing he ignored:

"Let me instead show you how to deflect it," he proposed, paying no heed to your words.

He backed up and you got a chance to glance at him with unhidden irritation. He met your gaze with a cheesy smile like he wasn't a person degrading you a couple of seconds ago. However, giving it a little bit more thought you exhaled and nodded. After all, you should've picked up something from this lesson, not just the revelation that Dazai was a total dick and you wouldn't want him to be near you ever again.

You moved from the wall and this time he gripped your hair slowly.

"What you want to do now is to grab my hand by both of yours, then stand back to the stance I showed you earlier, turn underneath the arm, so that you twist it and when the person lets go, just bolt. Got it?"

You hummed in acknowledgement. Perhaps it wasn't that difficult. Perhaps, at the end of the day, the lesson would be fruitful.

"Try it then," he prompted and then tugged at your hair lightly.

Following his instructions, you grabbed his hand and as you were about to go underneath his arm, he spun you. His arm was firmly holding your throat.

"No, y/n-chan, I've told you your stance was wrong," he whined. "Let me show you again."

"What just happened?" you asked confusedly but he already was spreading your legs.

Osamu didn't answer, too busy putting you in the right stance. And you tried your best to concentrate on how your legs were placed instead of his fingers brushing over your ass a couple of times, once getting a little bit too close to your clothed vagina.

"Just like this," he said and his hand slid up from your knee to your waist getting under the top a little.

From your point of view, the skinship was completely irrelevant but you decided to keep your sharky comments to yourself. For now, you were going to follow his instructions and maybe you could avoid the conflict.

Maybe not.

This time around when you were trying to deflect his arm, once again he outpowered you. You cursed as he said with disappointment in his voice (you were pretty sure it was the fake one, he was enjoying it, that bastard):

"You're too slow, y/n-chan. Do you think attackers would just stand there and watch as you crawl your way out of their grip as a turtle in slow-mo?"

"Dazai, I'd appreciate it if you-"

"Again," he cut you harshly, puppeting you around like you were nothing but a doll.

His attitude towards you was so demoralizing you were fighting the urge to end it here and there. Losing all the motivation and looking exhausted, you tried to go through the motion again but Dazai wasn't having it.

"Hm, y/n-chan, kinda feels like you're not trying hard enough. Should I give you a motivation boost?" he exclaimed cheerfully but before you could say that he should go fuck himself he had already pushed you to the wall. Again.

You were expecting harsh words pouring from his mouth, but instead, it was the kisses as he roughly pulled your hair baring your neck for him. The hot tongue travelled from your shoulder to the globe of your ear, prompting you to jolt. Once again you attempted to push him away but could barely move. His left hand was pinning your wrist and his right one was painfully tagging at your hair, cranking your head to the side.

"Dazai," you wanted to let him know that you understood his intentions but he needed to stop when a not so gentle bite quickly shut you up.

He was licking and nipping leaving hickeys at your poor neck. You were squirming and whirling under his touch not giving up yet, so he thrust his hips into yours. There was no way you could keep any sounds in, so a whiny moan escaped your lips. You felt Dazai stopping, a satisfied smirk on his lips, then without saying a word, he continued torturing your sensitive neck. Two things were clear to you: a strong lust was taking over your body which meant that you were slowly losing yourself and that Dazai had just started playing with you, there were more to come.

Dazai. Dazai! Realising who was the man behind you, you tried to gain back control. Osamu was just being a bully, whywere you letting him see you in such a state? He certainly didn't deserve nor your moans, nor your hips grinding his.

You were thinking this but it took everything in you to not just give in to his touch. While you were having an internal battle, Dazai pulled away with a loud pop.

"Five."

"Five what?" you mewled weakly.

"There are five hickeys on your neck," Dazai murmured. "You look so good, all red and moaning. When you can't even do anything. You've been definitely enjoying it, sure you still want to continue learning self-defence techniques?"

You widened your eyes at his words.

"Excuse me?!" you exploded. "What the hell are you implying?!"

With all force, you shoved him in the side with an elbow. Dazai hissed and even though the attack was fairly weak he let go.

"I mean, no kink-shaming," he put hands in the air surrendering.

"What's your problem?!"

It was hard for you to overcome your desire of slapping him but no way in hell you were staying in one room with him for another second. You bolted but Dazai was quicker, catching your hand.

"Where're you going? For a moment there I thought you didn't agree and wanted to continue," he quipped. "Come on, that was just one technique."

"Dazai, let me go," you growled yanking your hand free. "I've had enough of you today, I'm leaving."

You had already turned to leave when he pulled you to the ground. You snorted in frustration, your legs fiercely kicking but the lack of strategy played against you and there you were - trapped under him. Osamu was sitting between your legs with his arms pinning yours to the ground.

You felt unbearably hot and weak, your cunt throbbing against his groin. His face was hanging right above yours, so close you could feel his breath. Unintentionally your eyes focused on his lips then you looked up. Only now you noticed how lustful his gaze was. He clearly was a winner today and he was about to enjoy his prize. As you licked your lips, your recognised your mistake - now your eagerness was more than obvious.

"I'm just parched," you faltered but it sounded pathetic even to you.

"I'm sure you are," Osamu whispered, sitting back. "One more technique and I'll let you go." His fingers gripped your thighs.

Since his weight was off you now, you felt kind of cold. Not knowing where to place your arms, you were about to put them next to your sides when Dazai commanded you to keep them still.

That position was too sexy for your liking - arms are placed next to your head, legs spread. All of it without his control felt like you were offering yourself to him. Like you were submitting. The man was clearly savouring it because his gaze was so intense, in the end, you even had to avert yours.

Dazai clearly didn't like it, tapping your left thigh:

"Look at me, y/n-chan, how else are you supposed to learn?"

You slowly turned back, embarrassed as your eyes darted all over him until they abruptly stopped at his crotch. There was a visible boner in his pants. When Osamu followed your gaze and loudly chuckled you felt your cheeks grow hot and desire growing stronger.

"Concentrate, y/n-chan," Dazai said amusingly but the only thing you could concentrate on was the wetness between your legs. You feared it might start to be visible through your shorts.

"Look, if someone got you into this position," Osamu continued like both of you didn't want the same thing and that thing was to fuck. "You have to keep your arms straight and put them on your shoulders, like this," he gently took your hands and placed them as he instructed. "Then you should put your leg on my hip," he tried to do it for you once again but your leg was wobbly. All the strength you had was wasted on keeping your arms straight.

Dazai sighed theatrically but he couldn't keep a vicious sparkle in his eyes.

"Y/n-chan," he whinged. "You're such a bad student. Weak. Stupid," his fingers were slowly stroking your thigh. "Having a short attention span. Don't you think that you should have concentrated on learning some stuff instead of thinking about my cock?" With this question his arm groped your ass, pulling you closer.

He gripped your hips and you let out a moan. Now you weren't trying to hold back. You were already a loser, might as well enjoy it. Being a tease he was, Dazai wasn't ready to give you everything right then and there but you were having none of it. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him closer by his collarbone. Osamu certainly wasn't ready for such a force so he confusingly complied.

"Call me stupid one more time and I'm leaving," you warned him, a confident smirk playing on your lips.

Dazai's face quickly changed from surprised to a perverse one. He dropped down on you, pinning you with his whole body and slammed his hips into yours. As you moaned he caressed your face, lovingly brushing your hair, and then whispered:

"I'm gonna break you, pretty doll."

With one swift motion, he put your wrists in one hand pinning it above your head, his tongue running over your lips then dragging you into a deep kiss. As you two were hungrily kissing each other you felt his fingers crawling under your waistband. You jolted, an instinct of placing your hand over his acting up but he was still holding you firmly. He ran one finger over your cunt but you were already shaking, silently begging for more.

"Dazai," you moaned desperately asking him to get down to business.

"You're so wet, y/n-chan," he licked your earlobe making you writhe. "I wish I teased you a little bit more," he started to kiss your jaw getting lower and lower. "I said that I'd break you but it seems you're already at your limit," he chortled, helping you to take your top and bra off.

"You look so beautiful," he murmured once you were almost fully naked in front of him.

Suddenly his gaze turned soft and you felt even more aroused than you before. Gladly the man wasn't planning on wasting any time as he started to lick, nip and bite one of your nipples, playing with his fingers with another. Moaning lewdly and rutting your hips you put your hand into his hair, curling soft strands in your fingers.

When he finished playing with your tits, he wanted to go further down, to place kisses on your lower stomach, but you decided to get back at him. Placing your straight hands on his shoulders, you put a leg on his thigh just as he instructed and squirmed out of his grip.

"You talk about me but look at yourself," you shoved a knee between his thighs, pushing it at his boner. "You were hard even before I started to feel something else besides irritation."

Now it was Osamu whose breath hitched. You were savouring your little win when he looked back at you with a dangerous grin. That was when you realised you fucked up. He quickly grabbed your leg and turned you over on the stomach. Laying down on you, he harshly seized your hair and hissed:

"A+ for learning the technique, but your attitude towards you teacher," he took off your shorts with pants nearly ripping them. "Needs some correction."

That was when the sound of a loud slap broke the silence of the room. You jolted, a gasp leaving your lips. You tried to crawl from him but his grip on your hair was strong.

"Come on, y/n-chan, it was just one slap. Don't you think you deserve it?" The hand that hit you was stroking your bruised ass cheek.

"It fucking hurt," you spit.

"Was it?" Dazai chuckled. "Say that you're sorry."

"For what?" you raged but another hit was your answer.

"Dazai, stop," you sobbed.

"Wrong," he retorted slapping your ass again. "Plus, if you don't like it why are you leaking so much?"

You embarrassingly bit a lip at his remark.

"A little bit of masochistic, are you?" Dazai noted. "Well, if you insist, I can keep on going."

You knew that both of you were barely holding it, so you decided to submit. Just this once.

"I'm sorry!" You squealed after another hit.

"Good girl," Osamu placed a soft kiss on your back still not letting go of your hair. "Now it's time for a treat."

And with that, he finally pushed the first finger into you. Since you were so wet there was a little pool under you, Dazai successfully pushed another finger shortly after. You quivered and jerked your hips begging him to move. This time around your colleague decided not to tease you.

As his fingers were pumping in and out of you, you were trying to push your head down to steady yourself but Dazai didn't let go. You were completely at his will.

"'m close," you mewled, your eyes rolling back.

Dazai hummed in acknowledgement and withdrew his hand. You groaned offendedly but heard the sound of a condom wrapper being ripped and then felt something else rubbing at your entrance.

Finally, Osamu positioned himself behind you and pushed inside, your pussy stretching obediently. The fullness made you gasp pervertedly. As he started moving your mind went completely blank. The only thing that existed for you at that moment was Dazai and his cock inside of you. He let go of your hair, one hand now was holding your hips and another one was giving attention to your clit.

You had no idea how he was still holding on but once your sensitive bud got stimulated you quickly come undone.

"Once more," Dazai panted while moving and playing with your clit simultaneously.

Even though you were tired, you had actually felt desire growing again. Osamu was just way too good for you to resist. You thought that the only thing he was chasing was his high, but he didn't cum until you orgasmed again denying himself every time he got too close. That's why when you cummed for the second time you did it toghether.

He rolled off you, but you couldn't move even a finger, for a moment you've gone completely numb. Your chest was going up and down with heavy breaths, your heart was racing. None of you spoke because you didn't know what to talk about. Especially, since you, personally, felt way too embarrassed to admit that you had just cummed two times because of an annoying Dazai Osamu.

"Looks like we ended in time!" Dazai chirped after some time and you looked at the clock realising that you spent here one hour. Just like it was promised.

"Wish I had actually learned something though," you remarked lazily, trying to pull on your shorts back. You just had to make it to the shower room and then wear your casual clothes. However, your pants were completely ruined.

"Well, if you think that you need another one, just let me know," you looked back at Dazai and his smirk told you that he wasn't meaning the self-defence lessons. You felt your cheeks grow hot again.

"Yeah, sure," you muttered, awkwardly leaving the training room.

From now on you intended on avoiding Dazai whenever it's possible.

Little did you know he had other plans.

[nxrthmizu]

happy birthday — tsukishima kei

pairing | tsukishima kei x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.6k

↪ part two of this

second chance // an opportunity to try something again after failing one time

tsukishima kei wasn't expecting anyone. sure, it was his birthday, but he did have work the next day, and wasn't very keen on drinking himself senseless into the witching hour.

since yamaguchi, his mother, and akiteru had taken it upon themselves to inform half of japan of his birthdate, kei had just spent the past four hours repeating 'thank you' to people ranging from his junior high schoolmates and strangers he had never met. he was certain that 99% of the players involved with the japan volleyball league had shown up, much to the amazement of his museum colleagues.

the bell rings for the third time, and kei is suddenly hyperaware of how annoying the sound is. he had just sat down, for goodness's sake— was it too much to ask for one minute of rest?

with his socializing energy at an all-time-low, kei nearly tears the door off his hinges, greeting his unwelcome visitor with a fierce snarl. "what do you want—" the words clamp down on his throat, breaking his airflow for a whole five seconds as he stares, utterly floored. "... y/n?"

"...hey?" you look sheepish, holding a small, one-cake-slice-sized box in your hand. he's known you long enough to know that you did your makeup on the fly— the tremble of your eyeliner is a sure giveaway. "... uh... is this a bad time? cause i can come back later—"

"no!" he blurts, hands slamming onto the door frame. he hadn't caught a glimpse of you in six months, ever since that fateful night when you walked out through the same door you were now standing in front of. there wasn't a single night in those six, grueling months that he didn't think about you, or the warm feeling of having you contained within his arms. sure, there were nights when you two fought, heading to bed with your backs faced to each other— but when morning came, you would somehow be in his arms, and somehow kei just knew that things would blow over.

except maybe they didn't.

left with too much time to think, he analyzed every little argument the two of you ever had, critically examining every word he uttered. perhaps the break was needed— the two of you needed to take a step backwards, re-assessing what you two wanted for each other, what you two wanted together. what you said that night hadn't be wrong— there were just too many issues being swept under the rug, too many things you weren't communicating about, too many problems he elected to ignore, in hopes that they would just 'blow over'.

"i mean," he clears his throat, lifting his hand off the doorframe, groaning at the paint scratch he caused. "would... would you like to come in?"

mentally, he smacks his forehead. you don't need permission to enter! in his mind, kei still considers the apartment your home, too. even if you haven't stepped foot within its grounds for half a year.

"if that's okay?" you smile softly, holding up your cake box. "you've probably had some already, but i bought your favorite. if you're full, you could have it tomorrow morning, before work?"

"no, no, i'm not that full." kei instantly assures, even though he's already brushed his teeth. on normal circumstances, he would leave it for the next morning, but what was brushing his teeth one more time if he got to talk to you for the first time in over a hundred-eighty days?

you narrow your eyes at him playfully. "don't lie to me, tsukishima kei. i can smell your toothpaste. i'll leave it in the fridge."

a fond smirk dances over his lips as you brush past him into your apartment, leaving your shoes where you always do on the shoe rack. the sound of your sock-clad feet padding past the living room brings a truckload of tension that kei didn't know he had off his shoulders, and all of a sudden, the house feels a thousand times cozier, even if nothing materialistic has changed.

he watches you from the sofa as you bustle around the kitchen, and he knows by the number of beeps on the electric stove that you're boiling water for tea— green, probably. the ration of tea packets are restocked regularly, because when you moved in, you brought your tea addiction with you, too. kei's been lured into drinking it on a daily basis, right after dinner, as a way of calming himself down after a day of work and practice. typically, tea would be accompanied with you, snuggled up against his side as he complained about the kids he met at work that day (you both knew that he had a secret fondness for them, but shhh).

"i hope you don't mind. i made tea." you say, bringing the glass teapot you were adamant on buying a year ago. it was one of the best purchases kei ever made in the apartment, because he was reminded of the worth every single time the two of you did your regular tea routine.

"of course i don't mind." he replies instantly, picking up his mug (the green one with tiny dinos on the edge). "this is still your home, too. you don't have to ask to do anything."

he pretends not to see the flash of surprise across your features.

"right." you murmur, pressing your mug onto your lips, blowing gently on the surface.

the two of you sit in silence for a while, sipping on your tea as the clock ticks onto eleven o' clock. suppressing the urge to ask you to stay, kei taps the surface of his porcelain cup rhythmically, forgetting that you know all his tells, front to back.

"is there something on your mind?" you ask gently, setting your mug down. he grimaces.

"ah... it's nothing." kei brushes off, not wanting to come onto you too quickly. for all he knew, you were just here to deliver the cake, not to reignite whatever was left of the relation he let simmer for too long...

"... right." the tone of your voice spells i-know-you're-lying-to-me,-but-i'll-let-it-go-for-now.

the silence continues, like a set prolonged. it's starting to get on kei's nerves when you (thankfully) speak again.

"happy birthday."

"thank you." even though he's said those words a thousand times that night, it sounds a comparatively much less robotic than it had for the previous thousand times. perhaps it was thousand-first time's the charm. "i mean it. thank you for coming over."

you wave it off. "i couldn't have not come. tadashi sent me an invite, but my boss needed me to work late and i didn't manage to make it."

ah, so that was why his best friend routinely glanced at the entrance nervously throughout the night. that explained a lot.

"i don't mind." kei takes a sip of his green tea, enjoying the warmth that courses through his chest. it isn't warmer than the warmth you give him, though. "i like it like this. ... just the two of us, i mean."

you contemplate him for a moment. "i like it like this, too." you confess quietly, as if whispering a childhood secret to him behind the karasuno gym.

he couldn't bear it any longer. he's always been patient, yes, but he's seen the looks his mother and brother threw him through the night, because they both knew that the one person that really mattered wasn't there. he was pretty sure his mother was just about to introduce him to some random girl before he excused himself for the night.

"will you stay?" he blurts, feeling very un-tsukishima-kei-like. it isn't like him at all, to be brash, and bold, but how can he? for the past four hours, he's talked to countless people— heck, half of them were volleyball celebrities— but not the one he wanted to talk to.

"do you want me to?" you ask softly, shyly, and kei knows that you're thinking if he wants you back— which is stupid, honestly. he knows that you're always thinking that you're lucky to have him, when it should be the other way around. kei doesn't think there's anyone else willing to put up with his dry humor, his hectic schedule, and his dinosaur memorabilia. if anything, he should be the one thanking the gods for letting him have you.

"don't be stupid." he snaps, cringing internally at how his tone came off. "of course i want you to stay, you're the best thing that happened to me. i won't force you, but—"

"i left some clothes here, right?" you cut him off with a hum, and when kei looks into your eyes, he just knows.

there's still a long, long, long way for the two of you to go. there's still plenty of things he needs to learn. there's a pile of issues in the store room that needed to be tended to.

for every million arguments there are a billion conversations where you two need to sit down and work out the knots. for every insecurity, for every misunderstanding, for every conflict, there is a needed effort to clean up the mess properly instead of just sweeping it under the floorboards. but for every tangle there lies between the two of you, there is a universe of room to grow, and change.

kei knows he's willing to make an effort, for you. kei knows that he's willing to do anything to make sure you don't walk out that door without looking back again. kei knows he's willing to do every single thing he can do (and can't) to make it work.

he knows.

he looks into your eyes, and he smiles.

everything is going to be alright.

haikyuu!! taglist: @ryuiki @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @definitely-yours @rirk-ke @cemeiia @animegirlweeb @mitzwinchester @fandomsgotmefucked

[dreamin-in-green-and-black]

Okay! I'm doing snapetober this time (and I'm already behind) but I'm doing it as a writer. My posts are generally pretty long-winded but I'll still be typing them out here and then providing a link to them on my AO3 if you're interested in reading it there.

Anyway! Off we go!

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️

Nightfall

The moon was asleep tonight. Invisible. Even if the thick layer of clouds have not covered the sky and the strange, infinite darkness as they did the moon would have been gone.

The world was black.

Empty.

Amidst the swath of the colourless world, a sliver of pale skin caught the far off lights of Hogwarts, flashing like a fish out of water as it cut across the tall grasses. Severus had returned.

Crossing the ground in long strides, he cast his gaze skyward. The black, endless sky reflected in the wide eyes of the same colour. They scoured the bottoms of the clouds. He had missed the heavy drop of the day's curtain. A heavy frown creased the skin between his brows. It shouldn't have been so dark this early. He was certain that he had made it back before nightfall. Yet, there it sat.

The darkness.

If night had already fallen...

He would be locked out.

Severus shook his head to himself and continued storming towards the gates, the hint of a limp throwing off his gait. Cold air brushed across his neck drawing an ache from his scar. It was always like this. Cold. Lonely. He hated returning to Hogwarts this late. It only reminded him of what he did not have.

There was no one waiting for him at the castle. No one sitting up in his quarters to ask how his day had been. And it had been terrible. A scuffle with a Murtlap nearly took off his leg and no one would be there to care. No one held any sort of compassion for him. Minerva would be off somewhere. Albus was dead. The rest of the faculty still avoided him, save one brat. The war was over but his life had not even seen the flicker of a change.

He was still alone.

A hand, long-fingered and stained purple, clutched at the broken clasp of the cloak. He had snapped half of the clasp clean off while fighting with the Murtlap and promptly dropped it somewhere in the mud. Now, the cloak hung on him sideways and he couldn't shake the feeling of being unbalanced. It also left his wounded leg open to air.

He sneered down at the exposed skin of his calf. Dark hair matted with dried blood looked up at him. It stung something fierce.

Reaching the gates, he pushed with his free hand. They did not budge, they did not open. They remained firmly shut. Severus grabbed the bars with his hands and dropped his forehead to the cool metal.

"Damn."

Night had already fallen.

Standing still, the pain in his leg was harder to ignore. It's throbbed rhythmically. Severus sighed. He didn't have the energy to walk to Hogsmeade and apparating was out of the question. A Patronus to Hagrid may work but he would be forced to explain the Murtlap situation.

"Late even for you."

Severus jumped at the voice.

"Potter?"

"I've told you, it's Harry. It's weird now that we're..." Harry gestured vaguely between them. "Colleagues, I guess." Yanking on the gates with a wry grin, Harry ushered him into the grounds. "Ten years ago, you were the one bringing me in. Now-"

"Yes, yes. How far I've fallen."

Serveurs began to step forward, his bad leg unshielded by the cloak slipping down his shoulders. A firm hand planted itself on his shoulder.

"You're bleeding."

"Very astute. Now if you'll let me-"

"No. I won't let you. What happened?"

"Nothing!" He had intended to sound annoyed but the sound came out angry and desperate. The words kept falling. "I am not up to something. There is so wrong I've committed. I spent my evening in that fucking forest that Hagrid send entirely too fond of and all I have managed to do is harvest these bloody Murtlap tentacles."

Severus shoved his pouch at Harry. The green eyes stared steadily at him.

"Oh, quit staring," he snapped, tugging the collar of his robes up over his scar.

"I didn't think you were up to anything, Severus. You're just always back by nightfall and this time you weren't."

Severus looked at the ground, swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat. Someone had noticed? Harry had noticed.

"You are implying that you stood out here and missed dinner? Tch. Unbelievable."

"I'm not a liar." Harry sucked a deep breath in, laughing lightly as he ran his hand through his hair. "Alright, I'm also not out here to argue. You're not going to Pomfrey for that, right?"

Begrudgingly, Severus nodded.

"Er, are you maybe up for dinner with me? I mean that, eh, I'll fix your leg up. I'm pretty okay at it, erm, that is that Hermione taught me a lot of what she knew and I know you thought she was at least halfway decent and so that probably means I won't make things worse exactly and-"

"Salazar, Harry. Shut up." Owlish green eyes blinked up at him. "I am... amenable to the idea."

"Must hurt pretty bad." He shot Harry stern look but only earned a growing smile. "I've got whiskey too. Make it worth your while." Harry grabbed at his elbow lightly, taking a fraction of his weight off his leg. "This okay?" Another nod. "Good. So," Harry continued, looking straight ahead. "Want to tell me about what happened? I'm bad at talking, but I can listen all right."

"I disagree," Severus mumbled

Harry fell silent, letting the quiet fill the space between them. It was strangely familiar. Turning his eyes toward the dark sky, Severus bit back tears of relief. He was going to sleep in his bed tonight. Eat a warm meal and his leg would be healed.

"I had thought the Murtlap was dead," Severus started. "It was obviously far from it."

He smiled as he continued his story despite the ache in his leg. Someone was listening. Sometime cared.

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things-A New Home

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

a/n: this is a repost considering it didn’t show up in any of the tags yesterday. have i mentioned how much i despise tumblr sometimes :) again, i want to give a special shoutout to @avengersbau for giving me a second set of eyes on this one.

word count: 2k

warnings: canon-typical violence and descriptions of injury.

The Purest Things Masterlist

gif is not mine! credit goes to @hqtchner

au! october 2007

Bookend: “It’s never too late to become who you want to be. I hope you live a life that you’re proud of, and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start over.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald

++++

"I am SSA Hotchner. Welcome to the team Agent Y/L/N," his voice reminds you of the transatlantic accents of Hollywood stars of old. The kind you used to hear in the old black and white movies you would watch as a child.

"It's an honor to be here sir," you stare directly into his brown, soulfully deep eyes.

"J.J., get us started, please," SSA Hotchner suggests.

Sitting down, you look to the screen that displays the frightful footage of bombs detonating in various locations.

"Yesterday, an 81-year-old woman was severely injured when a bomb exploded in the toilet of a women's restroom," J.J. informs.

"Interesting spot to hide a bomb," Agent Prentiss sneers.

Jennifer flips through the slides and shows another bombsight located in a subway station, "Last year a similar bomb that had been attached to a phone box detonated. No outstanding injuries were reported. However, the bombs' similar makeup alerted detectives to dig into other bombings throughout the years. They have positively identified attacks over the past twelve years as perpetrated by the same bomber."

Spencer adds, "His M.O. is similar to George Peter Metesky, better known as the Mad Bomber. He terrorized New York City over a period of 16 years. He planted bombs in theaters, subway stations, libraries, and offices. They were left in phone booths, storage lockers and restrooms."

"Do you think we are looking at a copycat?" Derek questions.

"If we are, we need to stop him soon," declared David.

"He's escalating-becoming bolder and more vicious," you say, scanning the report.

"Tell Boston we can be there by 9:30," Hotch notifies J.J...

++++

"It seems like he's a textbook paranoid schizophrenic. People suffering from this disorder may think that other people are regulating them or plotting against them. They tend to be reclusive, antisocial, and obsessed Hwith hatred for their presumed enemies," you twist a loose string from your shirt around your finger, unwind it, then repeat the process.

It's a nervous tick you developed over the years that has worn down numerous tops before achieving their intended lifespan. You glance at Agent Hotchner, seeking a sign of approval. His eyes meet yours, and he poignantly nods.

Did I say too much? No. Don’t overthink this. They can probably smell fear.

"In his letters left at the bombsights, he uses words like 'broad' and 'chick' to signify women," Dr. Reid chimes in.

"Do you think the unsub is motivated by hostility towards women? "

"It's possible," he continues, "These speech patterns age him significantly, however. Phrases such as these were mainly used in the 30's, 40's, and 50's."

Agent Hotchner begins to delegate tasks before the jet lands, "Morgan and Reid, I want you to head to the bombsights and see if you can't work out the motive. J.J. and Prentiss talk to the victim's families, determine our victimology. Y/L/N, Rossi, and I will head to the precinct and familiarize ourselves with the lay of the land and see if we can't formulate a geographical profile."

++++

At the precinct, you observe Agent Hotchner's ability to singlehandedly transition an entire police force's obligation to under his jurisdiction.

"Captain Moreno, this is SSA David Rossi and SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N," the Unit Chief introduces you.

The captain tilts his head at you, "Aren't you a little young to be in the FBI? How old are you anyway?"

You nail him with a you're-full-of-crap look. 

Everyone gets to be young once; your turn is over, old man.

Choosing to take the high road, you say, "I'd like to get my hands on the bombers handwritten notes. There has to be something in those letters that can give us a clue into the who, what, when, and where of this case."

Skeptical of your request, he narrows his eyes and looks to David and Agent Hotchner.

"You hear her," Dave exclaims, "Lead the way!"

Your enigmatic smirk no doubt gives away the great pleasure Dave's gibe brings you.

++++

"Agent Hotchner," you hand him your preliminary geographical profile. With his arms crossed, he intimidatingly peers into your research.

Don't burn a hole in my paperwork; I worked hard on that.

He is impressed by your work, taking in your comprehensive outline of proof that details the unsubs point of origin. For someone so young, your attention to detail puts even his most observant profilers to shame. "How did you come to this conclusion?"

"My family is from Chicago. When I was little, I used to read through my grandfather's old newspapers that he collected throughout the 1950's. On the jet, I knew some of the phrasings that Dr. Reid was using sounded familiar, so I cross-referenced it with some of the particular articles I remember from my childhood and found his wording to be exact iterations of the Chicago Crier."

Without taking his eyes off of the paperwork, he commends you, "Impressive use of your prior knowledge. Often, the information drilled into us through education is lackluster compared to that of real-world experience."

You turn to walk back to your makeshift desk when he calls out to you, "And Y/L/N, call me Hotch."

Your shoulders relax from the tension you hadn't even realized you'd been clinging onto, "Alright. Hotch."

++++

You immediately regretted your decision. In pursuit of the unsub, you had wandered off down an abandoned subway tunnel and cornered him.

"Harold Watts, FBI. Gently place the remote detonator on the ground," You shout. Grappling to keep your gun from slipping between your clammy palms, you grip the weapon tighter.

Ordinary people's first days of work are uneventful; they're given a series of mundane tasks at most. Me? Of course, my first day involves being secluded in a subway tunnel facing down a man decked from head to toe in explosives and wires.

"D-don't come any closer. I have my finger on the trigger! I'm not afraid to die, and I will not hesitate to take you up in flames with me," he stammers.

The stampede of footsteps, no doubt from your colleagues and half of the Boston police force, resonate through the echo chamber you're standing in. Watts spooks and loses his balance. You begin shouting for the people behind you to stand down.

"The tracks are live, one wrong step, and we all blow up. I repeat, stand down!"

Turning your attention back to Watts, you attempt to soothe his irrationality. You slowly return your gun to its holster, raising your hands up in surrender. Hotch yells something unintelligible from behind you, but your focus is on the unsub and trying to prevent any more casualties.

"Harold, let's just talk this through for a couple of minutes. My men behind me will leave us alone. It's you and me now. Before this, you never wanted to hurt yourself. You wanted to be heard. All of your life you felt like you were forced into the shadows, and you began to fester there in your pain and rage."

He tenses up; you have his attention now.

"Those girls who teased you and ripped your masculinity from you needed to be taught a lesson. But you didn't just stop there; you decided to do all women a favor and demonstrate to them the kind of pain they could cause, hoping to prevent them from making the same mistakes. In fact, you helped me to see what I can do better. I never want to make someone feel the way you did."

"Y-you learned that...f-from me?" Harold quietly sobs.

You nod, "Yes! Yes, Harold. And you can still be heard, but not if you die today. I could be your greatest advocate. If we walk out of here right now, think of how famous you could be. Harold, you will never be stuck in the shadows again."

It is crucial to your survival and your teams that you are brave just long enough to analyze the situation and keep your self-control. Panic won't do anyone any good right now.

Your mouth dries as you await Harold's next move. Suddenly, he hunches over, extending the hand gripping the detonator. Pausing for a moment to be sure he isn't making any drastic moves, you promptly hurry to his side and gently pull it from his clutch.

As the police officers and your colleagues rush to your aid, Harold looks up at you with hopeful eyes.

"Make me famous," he murmurs with a grin that churns your stomach.

Hotch ushers you away from the unsub, backing you up against the wall of the tunnel, "You actively defied my orders."

Searching every inch of his face for an accurate reading of his emotions, you are unsure of how to respond.

"I'd like to think it won't happen again," his eyes studying you just as intently.

You swallow hard, aware of the lump in your throat and take a deep breath, "You have my word, Agent Hotchner."

"Good," he affirms, eventually freeing his hold on your arm.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief and relax your spinning head against the wall.

Opening your eyes, you observe your new team tieing up all loose ends. They're safe. You are safe. Despite this first day not being as mundane as others, you wouldn't have it any other way. This feeling is what you signed up for, and it's already fulfilling you in ways you couldn't fathom before stepping inside the BAU office this morning.

++++

Aboard the jet, you tuck your legs underneath you and open up a book to read.

A cup of steaming hot coffee appears on the table in front of you.

Hotch sits across from you with a similar cup and offers you a subtle smile, "Impressive work out there today. I'm sorry your first day of work couldn't be more eventful."

A joke? I didn't take him as the joking kind.

Rolling your eyes, you put on a disappointed tone, "God...if you guys drag your feet like this every day, I might have to consider a transfer."

In a more serious nature, he asks, "How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I guess. You were right, you know, no amount of studying or lectures can truly prepare you for what it's like when you're staring into the eyes of a killer. I've learned the negotiation techniques and memorized the textbook 'put the gun down' speech, but all of that flies out the window when you're in the moment."

"You will find that improvisation at times is the key to success in this job. Just know that this team is a family. You will never face this alone or be at a loss for anything. Your career is in its infancy, but I can tell you have a long and triumphant journey ahead of you. We will do whatever we can to ensure that you are at home here and can use this team as an opportunity to refine your abilities. All I ask in return is that you work with us, not against us. You have nothing to prove. They see your resourcefulness. So do I. You are one of us now."

Some gazes are the promise of protection; his is all that and more. The words "at home" resonate in your mind. You've spent your whole life searching for a home, and here it is, its doors being opened to you. After a lifetime of running from place to place, perhaps this is where you can finally settle down.

"Get some rest," Hotch whispers to you. And with that, you lean your head against the chilled window and shut your eyes.

++++

Tag List 🏷

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[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠) 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎! 𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚎𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐× 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎! 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣)× 𝚂𝚙𝚢! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝚞

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙻𝚒𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚎𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐....𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟻.𝟻𝙺

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙾𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝*𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 (𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗), 𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢.

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires

↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬

The lieutenant ran his fingers across his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh as he paced back and forth around the desk. His eyes would sometimes look back at the young woman sitting in the chair across the desk, arms crossed, leg draped over the other and a stoic facial expression that had been plastered on since the moment they caught her.

It wasn't an easy task. She nearly slipped out of their hands like most of her colleagues did, but not this time. This time they were finally able to catch one of their enemies and they were going to make use of it through interrogation.

The problem?

There was nothing that would make her budge. The other sergeants and officers already put her through the grueling process of locking her up in solitary confinement, used menacing intimidation and even threatened to kill her on the spot, which did result in finally getting a reaction out of her, an amused smirk on her lips.

"You're not going to kill me. You need me, no matter what way you look at it. If you finish me off, you won't be any closer to finding out what we're planning. But please, feel free to pull the trigger if you wish."

She was smart, too smart, too loyal and to stubborn to say anything other than mock teasing and sarcastic comments to all members of the police force. The chief of police was so tired and irked by her uncooperative attitude and the ineptitude of his subordinates that he delegated the task of breaking her to the two men whom he knew would definitely get the job done:

Captain Kang and Lieutenant Choi.

They both knew they were up against a hard headed individual, but even she was testing their patience. The lieutenant was already tired and ready to punch that pretty face of hers, while the captain was still sitting on the couch next to her, silently observing her every move and facial expression, or lack of one, to see anything that might give something away. But even he admitted to himself that he was quite impressed by her devotion to her gang.

He was broken out of his trance when he heard the lieutenant punch the wood desk in front of him.

"That's it! I'm sick and tired of you little vixen being so stubborn! I'll get the answers out of you one way or another!"

When he began marching over to her, the captain immediately got up and held him back.

"Jongho! Stop. We're not supposed to lay any hands on a suspect." Yeosang calmly reminded him.

"I don't give a fuck right now Yeosang! Hongjoong told us to get the job done by any means necessary and I'm honestly not above beating the crap out of a cold blooded killer like her."

The killer in question let out a scoff and rolled her eyes.

"You call us cold blooded killers, but how many times have your subordinates shot people right on the spot before even confirming it was the right target?"

Both of the men looked over at her, their faces looking somewhat ashamed.

"Exactly what I thought." She concluded her point.

Jongho was going to say something, but Yeosang hushed him.

"Let me handle this for a moment."

Jongho shook his head and went to go slump down on the couch, exhausted from dealing with the suspect after 4 long hours. Yeosang calmly went to stand right in front of her. As opposed to sitting on the chair behind the desk, he casually hopped on top of it and let his legs swing on the air.

"Y/N, is it?" He tilted his head.

"So the folder says right?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Pretty name nonetheless."

His smile caught her off guard. He, like her, had a usually cool and collected expression, so to see him suddenly show emotion kinda startled her. Yeosang folded his hands across his lap.

"Now then my dear Y/N, you've been here for nearly 2 weeks now. I'm sure you, like most of my men here, are exhausted and utterly tired from all these....negotiations."

She held back from saying anything. She wouldn't necessarily call it negotiations if it was all very ine sided and they just seemed to throw threats at her left and right.

"So...tell me, what is it going to take for you to talk? Hmm?"

Yeosang batted his eyelashes at her, looking at her with such an intense gaze that burned a hole in her skin. She felt herself flush. He was remarkably good looking, and that formal attire wasn't helping. Noticing that he was indeed affecting her, Yeosang smirked and got off the desk.

"Tell me....is there something you want in exchange?"

His hands were placed behind his back as he rounded up behind her, eyes bearing down on her, catching sight of the cleavage peeking out from the beige trench coat she was wearing. Unconsciously, he licked his lips as a dangerous yet thrilling idea popped into his head. Placing his hands on her shoulders and rubbing them gently, Yeosang bent his head down to whisper in her ear.

"Come on doll, everyone cracks at one point or another.......so what's it going to be for you to put that pretty mouth of yours to work?"

She involuntarily shivered at his deep voice, which he purposefully lowered to produce a bigger effect on her. Dragging his lips down the side of her neck, his fingers began undoing the belt across her coat. The suspect looked down and panicked as she remembered that she wasn't wearing any actual clothes under it, only a black lingerie set consisting of a bra, panties and fishnet thigh thighs with a garter belt, a naughty little secret that Yeosang soon found out about it.

"Oh god, you kinky little girl." He chuckled as he placed hot, open mouth kisses on her shoulder.

"Ummm....Yeosang? We're not supposed to-...."

Jongho's tense voice reminded them both that they weren't alone.

"I know, not supposed to lay a finger on a suspects. But as you said, Hongjoong gave us permission to get her talking by any means necessary..."

Yeosang looked back at his partner as he began to turn Y/N's chair so he could get a glimpse of her.

"Now look at this pretty little doll and tell me you don't want to put your hands on her."

Jongho's eyes widened when he saw her undergarments on display, a tent immediately growing on his pants that made him feel embarrassed.

"Bloody hell..." Jongho bit his lips.

Agreeing with him, Yeosang turned his attention back to the young woman in the chair.

"Now babydoll, I'm going to say this once again: are you going to start talking or should my partner and I break you?"

The spy let out a dry laugh.

"You'll never break me."

Both Yeosang and Jongho glanced at each other, smirking at her answer.

"Is that a challenge? Fine. Have it your way."

Not knowing how he did, Y/N soon found herself on top of the desk in the blink of an eye, coat dropped to the floor, legs spread with Yeosang in between them. His delicate fingers held her chin up as he kissed her roughly. He slapped the bare skin of her thigh when she tried to push him away, eliciting a sharp whine from her. Moving his fingers to harshly squeeze her cheeks, Yeosang growled as he bit down on her lip.

"Open your mouth." He commanded her.

When she yet again refused, he slapped her once again on the same spot he had hit previously, this time with more force. Taking advantage of her parted lips, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, one hand going to the back of her head and pulling her hair back so he could explore her mouth even deeper.

Meanwhile Jongho was squirming in his seat, hand restlessly palming in between his legs.

"Hyung....can't I at least see?" He complained as the older male's body prevented him from seeing the scantily clad woman.

"You'll get your turn eventually Jongho. I'm simply warming up our suspect first."

Yeosang dragged his mouth down her neck, suckling at her soft skin til he was sure to leave bruises plastered for the days to come. Y/N gasped when he suddenly slipped a hand inside her panties, hand palming at her folds, feeling all the arousal she had already produced.

"You're being very cooperative so far doll." Yeosang pecked her lips and chuckled darkly.

"Even if I did have to get a little rough."

Moving aside so Jongho could get a clear view, Yeosang began to strip off the remaining clothing off her til she sat there naked in front of the two men who were still in their uniforms. Feeling shy at being exposed in front of the two authority figures, she quickly clenched her thighs shut and wrapped her arms around her chest. Frowning at her actions, Yeosang pulled her arms away.

"Hey, baby, no. We're having none of that. Don't make me get the handcuffs."

She let out a shameless moan, her tight hole clenching around nothing as she pictured them bending her over the desk and binding her arms behind her.

"Hyung, I think she'd like that." Jongho didn't miss the way she reacted, a snort coming out of his nose.

"As much as I'd like that, I wanna see her be a good girl for us, cause she can be. Right doll? You can be a good girl for us right?"

Y/N wanted to do the exact opposite, disobey them and be the bad girl she knew she was. She looked over at Yeosang with a defiant look that seemed to ask 'try me', which he noticed. When she was about to speak, he quickly shushed her when he cupped her soaked heat, thumb circling her clit, causing her to let out a choked gasp.

"There now, you see you can be a good girl."

With his thumb not leaving her clit, 2 fingers began probing at her entrance, testing the waters before pushing them inside her. Y/N threw her head back and hummed erotically at the way Yeosang worked his fingers inside her, curling the tips to brush against her sweet spot.

"God Jongho she's so wet and tight."

Jongho let out a moan, the hand that was wrapped around the base of his thick and girthy cock pumping faster, thumb playing with his slit.

"Fuck. I can't wait to be inside her, I bet she'll hug our cocks very nicely." He groaned.

Yeosang sped up his movements, fingers circling in and out of her.

"I can't wait to taste her. Shit."

Y/N squeaked loudly when Yeosang dropped to his knees and attached his lips to her clit, slurping and sucking at it, tongue toying around with it as he pleased. He alternated between giving it kitten licks before covering it entirely with his mouth, tongue lapping at her bud as if it was his last meal. It is too much for her, having his long fingers pumping in and out of her at an incredible speed while his mouth was focused on playing around with her clit.

"Hyung I think she's going to cum." Jongho pointed out, fascinated by the scene taking place in front of him.

Humming into her mound, Yeosang smirked before stuffing a third finger in, effectively sending her over the edge as she began cumming on his face and fingers. He let out an accomplished sigh as he pulled his fingers out of her and spread her folds apart to place his mouth on her dripping hole, collecting every last bit of her juices.

Although she was worn out, she had no time to rest as Yeosang picked her up and began carrying her over to the couch, placing her on Jongho's lap.

"She's all yours for now Lieutenant. I suggest you behave darling, he's known for getting a little rough." Yeosang winked at her.

Y/N looked down at the dark haired male, his deep brown eyes staring at her with intense lust and want. Her eyes took in his arms, the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up past his elbows, but even underneath the fabric, she could see his muscles poking out, threatening to tear through the shirt. He was big, and it made her wonder how it would feel to have those strong arms hoist her up into the wall and fuck the living daylights out of her. Before she could even finish that fantasy, her gaze traveled further down and noticed how ridiculously thick his thighs were....

And she was straddling them right at that moment.

Noticing where she was looking at, Jongho let out an amused laugh.

"You like them baby?"

She nodded immediately, hand reaching down to grip one of them. His muscles were no joke and when he flexed his thigh, she felt herself get heated once more. Understanding what the situation was, Jongho leaned in and ran his thumb across her bottom lip.

"Wanna ride my thigh babygirl?"

Seeing her eyes sparkle at his suggestion, Jongho couldn't help but mutter to himself how cute she was. Setting her down next to him, he quickly pulled his pants down, leaving himself only in his boxer briefs. Y/N was practically drooling at the sight of his thighs. They were even better than she imagined. Jongho patted them.

"Take your pick love."

Y/N scrambled to sit up and hoist one leg over the thigh nearest to her. Jongho's large hands gripped her hips, eyes looking up at her.

"Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my thigh babygirl."

Jongho watched in amazement as she began grinding her hips down onto him, the slick of her previous orgasm coating his skin. He couldn't keep his hands to himself as they went from her hips down to cup her ass, squeezing her cheeks apart and then harshly pinching them. One hand even came up then came back down to slap her thigh harshly, making Y/N yelp.

"I said fuck yourself on my thigh. Can't even do that? Is that too much for a dumb slut like you?" He mocked her.

Her hands held onto his shoulders as she began to rut herself faster on his thigh, desperate to chase the high was fast approaching her once more. Jongho's hand slapped her ass once more.

"That's it. Just like that. Fuck yourself on my thigh like the horny little bitch you are."

He slapped her 3 more times before he opened his mouth and took one of her breasts inside it. His tongue swirled around her nipple before sucking on it. Feeling a little more sadistic, he actually placed much of her breasts in his mouth before sinking his teeth down, causing her to let out more than a couple shrieks at his rough treatment.

"Oh shut up you know you like it you whore." He said as he slapped her chest with full force, her breasts bouncing from the hit.

She never thought she'd ever get turned on by such disrespect but here she was, fucking herself on a detective's thigh as his hands were either slapping her ass or tits and his mouth left bites across her chest, slurping away at her succulent nipples.

"You gonna cum you little bitch? Cum again like the slut you are? I bet you are."

Jongho flexed his thigh as he felt her speed up her movements. His hands grabbed both of her tits and pressed them together. Dipping his head low, he sucked both of them into his mouth, unashamedly letting out loud suckling sounds as he worked her towards her second high. With her head thrown back, Y/N quivered on top of Jongho. With a loud popping sound, he released his hold on her boobs to grip her thighs and keep her from falling onto the floor. He kept pushing his thigh up into her, fucking her through her high, tears spilling out from how sensitive she was.

"You wanted to cum and making sure you cum as much as you can. Make a mess on my thigh."

Jongho watched as a thin trail of slick rolled off his thigh and onto the carpet under his feet. His hands still bounced the girl on top of him until her breathing calmed down.

"That's a good little bitch." He giggled softly, staring proudly at his work in front of him.

Turning back towards the desk, Jongho looked at Yeosang who by this time had already stripped himself completely of his attire.

"What do we do with her now?" Jongho waited for instructions.

With a mischievous grin, Yeosang beckoned both of them over with his finger.

"Bring her over here. It's our turn to have a little fun."

Getting the hint, Jongho effortlessly picked her up as if she weighed nothing. He delicately carried her over to the desk, peppering butterfly kisses on her face, getting her guard down for the moment. When she was relaxed, he immediately slammed her down onto the desk, her body jolting up from how hard she fell back. Yeosang looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Jongho, she's still a material witness. Try not to break our only piece of evidence please."

Jongho scoffed.

"We're literally about to make a mess all over her body and then fuck her dumb, I doubt there's no way we can't not break her. Besides....."

He looked down at her flustered figure, hand caressing her cheek.

"The kitten here likes it rough. Why do you think her claws haven't retracted yet?"

Giving her cheek a little pat, Jongho began untying his tie, loosening it up before throwing it across the room, his shirt soon following in the similar fashion. Y/N's eyes shot wide when she saw his buff, toned body, his arms were huge and could probably crush her without breaking so much as a sweat. Her gaze was ripped away when she felt Yeosang crawl up her body, his thighs straddling her chest as his long member slapped in between the valley of her breasts.

"Let me give you a run down of how this is going to work doll. I'm going to fuck these pretty tits of yours while you make sure to suck Jongho off real good. Got it?"

Y/N obediently nodded, more than willing to let the two men use her like a mere fuck toy. Her hand gripped Yeosang's cock, spreading a bit of precum around before lightly stroking him, working him up before he fucked her tits.

"Spit on it."

Following his orders, she spat on his cock, using it as lubricant to spread all over him. Her thumb played with the head, circling around it and toying around with the slit. They were so immersed in their little world, the man next to them fuming at being forgotten. He caught her attention once again when he hit her face with his thick cock. Y/N's mouth dropped open immediately when she saw it. It was so big, bigger than anything she'd seen let alone put inside any of her holes. He teased her by sliding the tip across her face, her tongue darting out to have a little taste but he pulled back, making her whine.

"Tsk. I knew she was a hungry little cockslut." Jongho said in mock pity.

"Don't tell me you're actually going to turn down her offer of sucking you off." Yeosang knew better.

"Fuck no. But she's not just going to suck me off. I'm going to fuck that little face of hers until her lips are red and swollen. Gonna make a mess all over that pretty face of hers." He grinned evilly.

Removing her hand from his cock, Yeosang instead guided her to cup her breasts, squeezing them together before he slipped his cock in between them. Y/N kept her eyes glued on the sinful image, enjoying seeing his head poke out from her tits. As if it couldn't get better, Jongho placed his hand on her chin, guiding her face to look up and take his cock inside her mouth, barely fitting half of it inside.

"It's so warm." Jongho held back from immediately fucking her mouth.

"Makes you wonder how her pussy feels doesn't it?" Yeosang chuckled.

Looking back down at her stuffed face and chest, the men lightly cooed at her, moving some hair away from her face.

"If you want us to stop or it gets too much, just tap on Jongho's thigh 3 times ok?"

She held up a thumbs up at their words. Once she gave them the green light, they didn't hesitate to start moving, one sliding his cock back and forth between her boobs while the other pulled in and out of her mouth. Y/N worked hard to concentrate on sucking Jongho off while keeping her breasts pressed around Yeosang's cock. She felt so dirty committing all these sinful acts with these men of power, what would her gang say if they found out she got involved so intimately with the enemy? She didn't care. She was too stuffed with 2 large cocks to give 2 damns at the moment.

"Fuck- just like that baby- Oh god yes! You're doing such a good job." Jongho hissed as he pushed deeper into her mouth, grunting when he heard her gag around his length.

Unlike his more vocal partner, Yeosang was more on the quiet side, mostly letting out blissful sighs and heavy breathing, although occasionally he let out a loud groan when he rubbed against her squishy skin in a certain way. His hands moved to keep her breasts pressed against his dick, letting her take a break and steady herself on the desk underneath her for what was going to come.

Jongho was the first one to get rough. His hands held her face in place as he began furiously fucking her mouth. Y/N hollowed out her cheeks as much as she could, saliva pouring down her cheek and chin from how hard Jongho was going. She began releasing a series of whimpers which were occasionally choked out when he forced her to deep throat his entire length, her nose touching and inhaling his large balls.

Yeosang soon followed suit, his thrusts becoming more sloppy, voice now becoming louder as he felt himself cumming any minute now.

"Fuck! Oh my-"

Yeosang dug his nails into her skin from how tightly he was gripping her tits together, he began gasping as he tried to fuck himself over the edge. Jongho noticed and couldn't stop the shit eating grin on his face from appearing.

"If only you could see Hyung's face right now kitten. He looks so pathetic, whining like a little brat trying to cum all over your tits."

"Sh-shut up!" Yeosang stuttered, eyes clenched as he felt himself on the brink of his high.

"You ready to have your tits all covered in his cum? Hmm? I bet you are, Hyung is just dying to paint all over them."

No longer able to hold back, Yeosang released his hold on her breasts, one hand coming up to finish jerking himself off as his cum spurted all over her chest, some of it hitting her chin. Y/N moaned erotically when she felt his hot and sticky liquid coat her boobs. Pulling Jongho's length out of her mouth, she began to pump him to get him to spill himself as well.

"Cum on my face Lieutenant, please. Make a mess on my pretty little face."

Unable to resist her begging nor her mouth opening wide, tongue sticking out to catch his semen once it did come out, Jongho cursed loudly. His hips stuttered and Y/N closed her eyes when his cum began to shoot at her face. Her hand didn't cease to pump him until she made sure she had milked him out of all his cum. Swirling her tongue around her lips to collect more of his cum in her mouth, her hands went to her breasts, groping them and spreading more Yeosang's cum across her body. The men were left speechless at her actions.

"Holy shit." Yeosang stared in shock while Jongho snickered.

"Told you she was a dirty little slut."

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at his words.

"Guilty as charged."

Struggling to sit up, Yeosang kindly helped her out, his arms wrapping around her waist as he stared at her with loving eyes.

"You know, even with all that cum on your face, you're still very beautiful." He complimented her, giving her nose a tiny peck.

"Don't fall for her yet romeo, we still need to get her to talk and frankly...I'm not done with her yet."

Yeosang looked back at Jongho.

"Ok, so you wanna go first in pounding her sweet pussy?"

Having another idea, Jongho had a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Actually.....I was thinking about stuffing my cock inside her ass."

Y/N whipped her head back at the strong male, Yeosang also looking at him with an incredulous look, but Jongho simply shrugged.

"What? You got a thing for tits and I have a thing for ass. Who are you judging? Now if you're not going to do anything else, hand her over to me and I'll handle her."

Yeosang thought about it for a few seconds. Still holding Y/N, he picked her up and moved her to the couch, whispering something in her ear. She blushed at his suggestion, making Yeosang giggle.

"If you don't want to, that's ok." He assured her, lips kissing across her temples.

Y/N looked at Jongho, who was waiting impatiently for an answer. Cupping Yeosang's face, she kissed him softly before pulling back and nodding. Feeling content with her answer, Yeosang pointed to the spot next to them on the couch.

"Sit."

Although he was taken aback by the sudden order, Jongho nonetheless went over and sat next to the rather lovey dovey couple. Yeosang carefully lifted Y/N up and placed her on Jongho's lap.

"Be extremely gentle when entering her behind ok? It doesn't work the same as the other hole."

Jongho furrowed his eyebrows.

"Are you seriously about to give me a sex ed class right now? I know what I'm doing man."

Wetting one of his fingers, Jongho circled around Y/N's rim, gently testing at first. Slipping his finger in, he payed attention to her body movements and breathing, stopping whenever she squirmed too much or when she inhaled too sharply. Once his finger was in, he stilled in there for a few seconds before proceeding to stretch her hole out. It was a foreign sensation to her, and although it ached for a fat minute, Y/N soon found herself loving the feeling. And soon Jongho's finger wasn't enough and she craved more. Her hand reached back to grip his arm.

"Please.....more.." She pleaded with him.

Slipping his finger out, Jongho quickly positioned his thick cock at her ass, slowly sinking her down onto it. Y/N lost her voice, the noises that were supposed to come out of her mouth becoming mute as she felt overwhelmed by Jongho's cock ripping through her virgin ass.

"Easy there. Give her time to adjust." Yeosang reminded him, his hands going to her hair to caress her scalp in a tender way.

Y/N took deep and steady breaths, letting her body become adjusted to the intrusion of Jongho's cock. She lifted herself up and sank back down, experimenting for a moment to check if she was ok. Twisting her neck, she caught sight of Jongho's eyes which were silently asking her if it was all right to proceed. She nodded and with that, his hands lifted her up and sunk her back down onto his length.

"Jesus. She's so tight." He rasped out, wanting to bounce her as he liked but held back until he felt she was ready.

Y/N soon got adjusted to having him hit her from the back, but she felt like something was missing. Her hand reached down to play with her clit, but even that didn't prove to be as effective. Turning to Yeosang, she looked up at him with glossy eyes.

"Yeosang can you-?"

He looked towards where she pointed at. Getting the hint, he guided her to lean back against Jongho so it'd be easier for him to push inside of her. Locking eyes with her, he slammed his length fully in her with one swift roll of his hips, making both of them moan at that.

"H-hyung! Even I felt that!" Jongho blurted out, his hips snapping up and making Y/N bounce on his cock.

"Good. I want you both to feel as I fuck and claim this little pussy."

Draping her arms around his shoulders, Yeosang began a rather fast pace as his cock stroked deep inside of her. The room was filled with nothing but the lewd sounds of their skin slapping against one another, squealching noises from their previous spurt of liquids and the harsh breaths and pants coming out of their mouths. Jongho had his head thrown back against the wall, hands digging into the sides of Y/N's waist, swears coming out of his mouth so many times it'd put sailors to shame. Yeosang either kept his eyes glued towards where he and Y/N were connected or back up at her face, watching her face contort with pleasure as she was being fucked past her limit. Kissing her once again, he muffled both hers and his grunts, hand reaching down to rub at her clit. Y/N whimpered uncontrollably as she felt her third orgasm for the night wash over her, body shaking and quivering wildly. If she wasn't being held up by both men, she would have surely collapsed on the floor. Her walls tightened around Yeosang's length, inching him closer to his second orgasm.

"Is it ok if I cum inside you doll? Will you let me do that? Please?"

Through tears in her eyes, she quickly nodded nearly combusting for another time when Yeosang coated her inner walls with his cum, a chant of her name coming out of his mouth as he continued to thrust inside her until he came down from his high. Jongho was not far behind. Feeling her thrash on top of him and seeing Yeosang cum served to push him over the edge as well. He slammed up against Y/N as he fucked his cum up her ass, some of it leaking out and spilling onto his thighs.

"Oh god oh God Oh god!" He cried out, hips stilling when he finally stopped cumming, his body desperately gasping for air.

They all stayed quiet for a moment. Yeosang was the first to recover. Pulling out of Y/N, he then lifted her off Jongho. She grimaced at the dull sting she felt after having both of her holes used and at ached at the empty feeling afterwards. Yeosang carefully laid her on the couch while Jongho went to go get some wet tissues and hand towels they kept in the room to clean themselves and her up. After making sure she was wiped down thoroughly, Yeosang grabbed one of his coats that were hanging in the room and covered her in it. His hand lightly patted her head, fingers delicately running through her hair, a fond smile was plastered on his face. Knowing that look too well, Jongho shook his head.

"Hyung, don't get any ideas. She's still a suspect and we still have a job to do."

Getting brought back to reality, Yeosang let out a defeated sigh.

"I doubt she'll still want to talk though."

Opening her eyes, Y/N finally admitted something.

"It's not that I don't want to, it's that I'm scared."

Both men looked at her with concern.

"If I open my mouth, I know they'll come hunt me down and do god knows what for opening my mouth." She explained.

Finally understanding what she meant, both men sat down beside her.

"Y/N, you don't have to be afraid. I give you my word, not only as captain of the police force, but as me, Kang Yeosang, I promise that I won't let anything happen to you should you choose to cooperate with us. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Lifting her hand up, he placed a tender kiss on the top of it.

"I'll make sure to keep surveillance on and around you at all times and you can stay with one of us until we bring the criminals down." Jongho added as well.

Looking into their eyes, she felt comforted and safe enough to trust them. Sitting up, she clutched Yeosang's hand tightly and gave them both a dry laugh.

"Guess you guys really did break me huh?"

Both men laughed along with her.

"What can we say? We're just too good at our job."

They both sent each other a mischievous wink and smirk, before returning their gaze back to the female on the couch, ready to start listening to her story.

[enchantedblackrose]

Safe Again

Not my image. Google image search

Pairing: Antonio/Fem Reader

Requested @fabyoliveira1999

Summary: Y/n is kidnapped when an undercover assignment goes wrong

¡Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood, allusions of sexual assault, potential police brutality? All very in line with the show

A/n 1: this is a work of fiction. The gang and names used are completely made up and not meant to reflect any real persons. Thank you.

2: Part 2 will be a fluff drabble

Safe Again

A darkness overcomes you as you slip out of consciousness. The steady beeping of the machines around you are now frantic, their shrill sound piercing the ears of everyone around. 

Antonio yells out your name as hospital staff force him from your room. It isn't until Hank and Kevin pull him by his shoulders does he fully retreat. He sees a familiar face in the hallway and remembers a conversation he's been meaning to have.

"Halstead!" Antonio's voice shakes in anger. He stands face to face with the younger detective. His finger accusingly pointing.

"How the hell did this happen in the first place, man? You were supposed to have her back!"

Jay's voice was quiet. "I know." He drops his head in hands. "I'm so sorry, man. I should've pulled us out of there."

"You were supposed to watch her."  Antonio strains to speak, his tone is much softer this time as he fights back the tears threatening to spill. Wordlessly, he claps Jay's shoulder, giving it an affectionate and apologetic squeeze. None of this is Jay's fault. Antonio knows this and instantly regretted taking his emotions out on his colleague.

-72 hours prior-

You're sitting in the bullpen, having just been assigned to go undercover with your partner acting as your boyfriend. The idea being that the two of you would infiltrate the known drug gang the Scorpions as potential buyers and dealers for the more upscale neighborhoods the leader, Sammy, was trying to reach.

Your actual boyfriend is the first to speak. "Oh hell no. You're not doing this," Antonio tells you, earning a hard stare from you in return. "She's not doing this," he shifts his attention to Voight. "These...thugs are ruthless. They're killers."

Hank's eyebrow shoots up, wordlessly questioning Antonio. "Watch yourself there. Last I checked this was my unit. I give the orders."

"Sarge, if I may," you interrupt. "I'm willing to do this. I've successfully gone undercover before and I've gone alone," you remind not only your sergeant, but your boyfriend. "I want to do this." Your eyes fall to Antonio momentarily before looking back to Hank.

"Do whatever you need to prepare," he orders. You nod, reaching for your cell phone. Hank turns around and heads into his office. Antonio is hot on his heels, letting the door slam shut behind him after giving you a displeased look.

You huff an angry sigh. From his desk, Jay offers a sympathetic smile. "He's coming from a good place, y/n," he reminds you. "He's just scared. He knows you're more than capable of handling yourself out there."

Appreciating Jay's words, you nod your gratitude and make the call to set up this meeting.

//

You are fuming the entire walk up the stairs to your apartment. Antonio follows closely behind. You wait until the door closes completely before angrily spinning back in your heel to glare at him.

"Do you have any idea how demeaning and humiliating it is to not only have my boyfriend, but a superior colleague to react that way in front of my sergeant? Our sergeant? This is important, Antonio! And I'm not some rookie. I've done this before! You have no right-"

"You're right," his voice is calm and not at all what you expected to hear. "And I'm sorry, mi amor. I made sure to tell Voight before we left that I support you doing this and promised to not let my feelings compromise this case."

"Oh." You feel your anger start to dissipate. "In that case…can you order dinner, please? I'm going to take a quick shower." You stand on your tiptoes, pecking his lips softly with yours before heading to the bathroom.

//

Today was the day you and Jay, or rather your aliases Roxie and Ray (you relentlessly teased Jay about his lack of creativity), were meeting Sammy, having already built a rapport with some of the other members lower in the chain of command. If it went well, today should be the day you make the bust. Both of you step into the garage to meet the team and go over plans one last time. You're in a body flattering dress hitting right above your knees, Jay in a suit sans necktie.Your friends whoop and catcall  Part of your personas was playing a bored, wealthy, money-motivated couple and you had to look, not just act, the part. As Antonio approaches, Jay excuses himself saying he'll be in the car waiting whenever you're ready. Antonio's voice is quiet. "There's still time. Don't do this."

"I thought you supported me."

"I did...I do! I just can't let you-"

"Let me?" You yell, earning the unwanted attention of those nearby. You shake your head, hurt and disappointment shine in y/e/c eyes.  You walk away without another word, getting into the passenger side of the car

//

You reach the autobody garage the Scorpions use as a front. Immediately they pat you both down by a few members you've met during the time undercover. You're positive your inspection is more thorough as he squeezes your one ass cheek.

"Hey man," Jay shouts seeing you get groped.

"It's alright, babe," you wink. "Rico's only appreciating a good thing when he sees it." Rico smirks before declaring, "They're both clean."

Sammy, and another man you recognize from case files, Nic enter. "What's this? Who did you bring me?"

"These chumps are gonna be your new sellers."

Sammy's eyes hone in on you. You hold his gaze. "Hell naw," Nic says. "They brought you cops."

"Oh, please," you say, rolling your eyes. "With this face and ass-he knows, he felt it," you point to Rico, "I'm too fine to be a cop." You flash a cheeky smile.

"Bitch, shut up!" The back of his hand connects with your right cheek. The stinging causes your eyes to water. Beside you, Jay flinches; it's hard from him not to react.

'Listen man, I don't know what you think is going on. We just-"

"You can shut up, too." 

You hear the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking, turning to see it pointed at Jay. Sammy gives a nod to one of the others. 

"Look out," you try to warn Jay, but it's too late. The butt of a gun hits Jay in the temple and he gets kicked at the back of his knee until he falls to the ground. His head hits the cement flooring hard. You don't understand why the team hasn't busted in yet.

Nic's gaze is on you. "You testified at Dierk's hearing." His fist swings and it makes contact with your jaw. It's enough to make you sway but you remain on your feet. "He was my cousin you, stupid bitch. Get her in the car. Leave him."

As you're forced into a black SUV, you manage to choke out a weak,"Jay, " your stained voice sounding unrecognizable to your own ears.

//

The equipment they sent you in with was faulty. Voight was furious as was Antonio. They whole worked diligently to get video or audio, anything to keep tabs on you and Jay. It's not until the SUV, with you unbeknownst to them inside, peels out, that the whole team moves in and finds Jay bleeding and unconscious on the floor. Kevin reaches him first. "He's alive!" he shouts to the others. Adam radios for an ambo before he and the others continue to clear the building. Kevin gently shakes Jay awake. He groans, hands instantly reaching the side of his head. He makes to stand.

"Easy there, brother," Kevin warns. Jay lets Kevin help him to his feet. "We've got a bus on the way."

Jay nods, "I'm fine. Where's y/n?"

"She's not here. No one is," Hank answers as the rest of the team draw near Jay. Jay's stomach plummets as he realizes they've taken you, his partner.

"Son of a bitch!" Antonio yells, kicking an oil drum.

"We work fast to get y/l/n back," Hank declares. "Check for surveillance, witnesses. We find that SUV and we find y/n. Alive

 Any means necessary.  Let's move." The team disperses and his hand clasps Jay's shoulder. "You get checked out by medics first." Jay opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it quickly. He nods his compliance. Hank and Antonio follow him to the ambulance that's just arrived.

"Hey boss," Jay speaks, with a tentative glance to Antonio. "This went south when Nic recognized y/n as the detective who testified against his cousin. Hank pursed his lips, but even in his anger, the color drains from Antonio.

"Voight," Antonio's voice almost cracks.

"We'll get her back."

//

Bloodied and bruised, you're alive with very little clue as to where you are. Your survival skills kick in.

You take note of your surroundings. You think you're in an unfinished basement of a residence. Definitely a lower floor as you remember being tossed down a flight of stairs. Your hands are bound behind your back and tied to a support beam. The door to upstairs is locked and even if it wasn't, based on all the noise coming from the floors above you'd never make it out undetected. 

The door opens and heavy footsteps make their way towards you. Nic comes into your line of vision.

You try reasoning with him, "As far as I'm concerned, nothing's been done that can't be undone. You just gotta let me go."

"You don't get it, do you? Maybe this will clear things up for you." He draws his gun, pressing it into the middle of your forehead 

"But first I'm gonna fuck you real hard." His face inches from yours. Nic pulls the gun away. His stale, hot breath reeking as he stands too near. You couldn't help but scoff before you throw your head into his, headbutting him with all the might you could.

He cries out in agony.

"Stupid bitch." He backhands you. Then grabs you by the chin. His furious eyes never leave you and a rough hand claws at the skirt of your dress. You feel cold metal pressed against your thigh. "First, I'm gonna fuck that tight pussy with my gun inside you then-"

"Why?" You smirk. "Afraid you won't be able to get it up?" So much for those survival instincts. Anger flickers across his face. His free hand makes a fist. You dodge his swing and he instead makes contact with the pole. This enrages him more. Hastily Nic puts the gun back in his pants. Both his hands wrap themselves around your neck.

//

14 hours have gone by. That's how long it's been since Antonio's last seen you. He's hurt and getting desperate. With less than two hours of sleep (Antonio only went home after Voight said he wouldn't be any help without some rest), he was out trying to find any witnesses, checking traffic cams, and placing calls to all his CIs in hope that any of them might be able to give a lead. When one of them started stringing him along, Antonio jacked the guy up against an outside brick wall near the precinct. That's when Kim found him. 

"We got something," she says in a hurry, fearing Antonio may do something he can't come back from.

The team picked up two Scorpion members and one is currently in the cage. 

"Five minutes, Hank. Just give me the key and five minutes alone with this guy," Antonio pleads to his sergeant. From the cage, the Scorpion chuckles. Antonio lunges causing the chain links of the cage to rattle. He appears more animalistic than human and the laughter does immediately. "Where is she, you bastard?" Hank looks at the guy, still refusing to talk, then he unlocks the door for Antonio.

"Are you crazy? You can't let him in here with me," he shrieks.

"Your boss has one of our own. And she just so happens to be his girlfriend, so you're crazy if you think I could really stop him if I wanted to," Hank answers before moving away from the door and heading upstairs. The door barely swings open before Antonio steps inside, knocking the guy to his ass with one punch. He picks him up by the shirt collar preparing another blow when Jay and Adam come flying down the stairs.

"Get outta here!" Antonio yells.

"We got an address. Atwater and Kim they picked up another member and he talked," Adam says breathlessly. Antonio hesitates.

"C'mon on man," says Jay, "He's not worth any more of your time. If y/n's there, let's go bring her home."

//

Hours have passed. How many you're unsure, but as they ticked by your hopes of being found or escaping  dwindled. Pain flows through your entire body. You sit on the cold, hard basement floor, unable to stand anymore. Nic had strangled you until you passed out. He never touched you like he promised and when you regained consciousness you were alone.

Shouts came from upstairs. You're unable to hear every word, but you catch enough to know they're talking about you.

"We need to move her now. We've kept her alive too long!" You hear footsteps and then the opening of the door. Nic appears before you, with a sinister grin. Your heart races as he nears. His eyes roam your body as he undoes his belt. He pulls you to your feet by your hair. A whimper escapes you and he laughs. Once again, his hands pull at the skirt of your dress. His hands travel along your thighs and ass squeezing both. His touch makes your skin crawl that you actually shudder. His fingers start to tug your underwear down when there's a commotion from upstairs.

"Freeze! Chicago PD."

"Drop the weapon!"

"On your knees! Face down." 

"I said drop it!"

Your heart flutters with hope, but then shots ring out and you have no idea who's firing or what's happening up there.

"Down here!" You yell. The basement door opens.

"Chicago PD!" Antonio and Jay's voices ring out.

"One male. He's got a gun," you warn. As they rush down the stairs, Nic pulls his gun on you.

"Drop your weapon!" Jay orders. His eyes perfectly fixated on the gun in Nic's hands. Antonio eyes you carefully and while seeing you bruised and a gun to your head isn't ideal, he's relieved to see you alive. Your colleagues' guns stay fixed on your offender. "You won't be told again. Drop. Your. Weapon." Your eyes lock with your boyfriend's beautiful brown ones and you nod ever so slightly. You slide down the pole as Nic moves towards you as if he was going to use you as a shield. Both Antonio and Jay fire their guns. Blood splatters onto you. Jay moves to check the body, but all you really notice is Antonio running to you  and it's honestly a beautiful sight.  "Baby, baby, baby. Hang on. I got you," he soothes, working quickly to free your hands of the zip ties. Your head falls into his chest. Really your whole body just collapses into him. Antonio holds you close, careful not to embrace you too hard, but his touch has never felt better. You sob uncontrollably as he begins to rock you.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you repeat.

"Shh. You did nothing wrong, mi amor. Shh, now, baby. I got you. You're safe again."

//

Immediately you're taken to the hospital. Blood is drawn,xrays taken, exams given. You've sustained several injuries, but nothing critical. Mostly you're bruised and exhausted, so when the machines you're hooked up to start beeping erratically, Antonio is confused and scared again, clearly demonstrated by that outburst directed at Jay. 

He opens his mouth to apologize when Will Halstead exits your room. 

"You can go back in now," he says simply.

The intelligence team looks at him, confused.

"What the hell just happened?"

"Y/n wasn't breathing properly."

"What?"

Will puts his hands up. "No no. She's fine. She can breathe. She was sleeping and wasn't breathing deep enough for the machine to register it. I promise she's fine."

There's a collective sigh of relief from everyone.

Antonio coming back into your room is a most welcoming sight. There's so much to say, but your eyelids are heavy with sleep. Instead you take his hand in yours. Antonio's free hand lovingly caresses your face.A feeling of safety washes over you and you drift off into a peaceful dream.

[127-mile]

Une seconde avant noël.

Pairing: Lee Ten x reader.

Genre: Christmas, exes, fake dating, feelings realization / Fluff, angst.

Warnings: Vulgar language, alcohol consumption.

Word count: +5.2k.

Prompt chosen: It’s Christmas Eve. It’s the one night of the year when we all act a little nicer, we smile a little easier, we cheer a little more. For a couple of hours out of the whole year, we are the people that we always hoped we would be.

Plot: What an idea to break up before Christmas, Ten thinks, as he announces to his mother that yes, you will indeed be present at the annual party organized for Christmas Eve.

A/N: This is part of the Walking in a winter wonderland collab hosted by @suh-insane​ and @neocitybynight​.

"Do you always have to be in my way? Fuck Ten, be careful where you are going!" you growl, looking at the content of the box strewn on the floor. You have a ton of work to finish if you want to have a meal break, and Ten really is not making it easy for you. "You piss me off." you mumble as you kneel to retrieve the glitter bloxes, and sigh in exasperation when you notice of them opened. You'll find glitter everywhere for a month at this point. Who is stupid enough to think of glitter as a passable Christmas present for a child, you think, rolling your eyes.

"Can't you be polite? We have customers, damn it!" you turn your face to Ten who looks at you as if you caused the accident yourself when this idiot was hunched over his phone at the time of the impact. "And you, can't you at least pretend to work instead of checking how many sluts you'll be able to bring in your dingy apartment this weekend?" you stuff the glitters into the box while huffing, you can't take any more. If you didn't need the money so much, you would quit your job this instant.

Ten's chuckle is enough to make you angry once again. You can not stand hearing him and his stupid laugh anymore, and if you looked up at him, you would see his annoying little smile. "Are you jealous?" he asks, and you bite your lip so as not to laugh. They are causing enough commotion in the middle of the store, you do not need your boss to come and see what's going on. "Jealous? But why would I be jealous, Ten. You really need to take the time to think and calm your fucking ego, it's not good for you."

"I'm not saying you are jealous, I'm just saying that worrying about who I can bring back to my apartment is suspicious." you look at him, shaking your head. God damn his face would be beautiful with your fist pressed against. "You're so full of yourself Ten. I don't care what garbage you take home, all I want is for you to get down to work, before if you haven't noticed yet, it is almost Christmas and the store is full of customers."

"Garbage?" he asks, tilting his head, and you turn on your heels. "As far as I know, I took you back to my apartment at one point." it is too much for you. You leave the arts and crafts section, and you put the box at the feet of one of your colleagues who looks at you, incredulous. "I'm going to be sick, can you take care of it." you are not sick, but if you stay with Ten for a minute longer, you will eventually be.

You ignore a client who ask you about an interactive teddy bear they sac on TV, and you know it's wrong, but you have no choice, or you'll end up spitting your venom on a poor innocent person who wants nothing more than to please someone for Christmas. You push the door to the break room, and you walk to the bathroom. As you thought, it's empty. The boss doesn't allow anyone to go while they are working.

You push the door open, and you sit on the closed toilet. It is not the cleanest place, but it is the only place where you'll have time to think, and where you can calm your sudden urges for murder. It's sad to see where the relationship between you and Ten is. It was not always like that. There was a time when you weren't insulting each other at any opportunity, when you could smile at each other without wanting to throw up. There was a time when you were in love, and convinced that you would spend the rest of your life together.

You tense when you hear the door open, and you remain silent, pressing your hand against your mouth, as if it would help you go unnoticed when your feet are visible under the door gap. "Y/n?" of course, there is only Ten to follow you to the toilet. He approaches the door and you see by his movements that he sits on the floor. You grimace, because you do not know how long the cleaning person has stopped washing the once white tiles.

"Ten, it's disgusting on the floor." you mumble, and hear him sigh. "What do you want? What's important enough for you to follow me into the bathroom?" you ask in a voice barely above a whisper. "I am sorry." he says, and you shake your head. This is not the first time you've found yourselves apologizing to each other after a little quarrel in the middle of the store, and you know it won't be the last time either.

"We only have one week left before Christmas, after that we won't have to see each other as much anymore. Can't we make an effort to ignore each other?" your voice is so weak, Ten feels his heart skip a beat. He never wanted the situation between the two of you to become so chaotic. He wanted nothing more than to be happy. Be happy with you.

"But- but I don't want to ignore you." Ten answers, and you get up to open the door. The boy almost rocks forward, since his forehead was pressed against the door. "Ten, you need to learn about the existence of germs on the bathrooms." he smiles weakly, and he stands up too, dusting his uniform pants. "What do you propose?" you ask, cocking your head.

"We're burying the hatchet." Ten crosses his arms against his chest, and you sigh. "Ten, we've already tried dozens of times since we broke up, and it always comes back to the same scenario. It's useless."

For the first time since they broke up, you do not pull back when he puts his hand on your arm. "But we can try. For real this time. We were friends before we were a couple, maybe we can be again?" there is so much hope in his voice, and in his eyes, that you can't afford to deny him anything. "We can try." you finally say, and Ten's smile is so bright that you could almost be blinded.

"Perfect! So will you come with me to the party my parents are hosting for Christmas Eve?" he asks, and this time, you pull back at his touch, and you clench your fist to punch him in the shoulder. He whines loudly and you refrain from not doing it again. "You asshole! Why are you doing this to me?" Every year, the Lee family host a Christmas Eve party. It's always lavish, with beautiful decorations, and exquisite food. You loved spending Christmas Eve with Ten's family. So reminding you that you will not be attending this year hurts.

"But I'm serious!" he explains by rubbing his shoulder. He takes a step back to make sure he doesn't get another hit, he knows you all too well. "You are invited." you frown as you dig your hands into the pockets of your pants. "We are not together anymore, why would you parents invite me?" for a moment Ten looks embarrassed, and he is unable to meet your gaze. "Ten, what are you hiding from me?" he hops from one foot to the other, and you are ready to ask him if he feels like pissing when he opens his mouth to explain. "It may well be that I didn't tell my parents we broke up."

"But why Ten? You told me you did! It's been months now." the fact that he is embarrassed is at least a good thing, he is still human. "I was going to do it, I promise, but my mom started talking about the party, and hse said she missed you and really can't wait to see you. You know how much my mom adores you, I didn't want to break her heart!"

It's really mean to include his mother and her love for you in the story, because he knows you considered Ten's mother like your own when you first met her. "I'll tell them everything after the holidays, I promise! If you come, I'll never ask you anything again, and I'll disappear if that's what you want."

"I hate you, Ten." even though it's a phrase he doesn't like to hear, he knows you do not mean it. At least that's what he hopes, because he doesn't know what he would do if you really hated him. "So?" he asks in a whisper, and you roll your eyes. "I'll come, but this will be the last time I do anything for you. Anything, do you hear me?"

He nods, and he smiles once more. "Good, very good! We'll take my car, and I won't carge you for your share of the gasoline, don't worry." he is so excited that you start to feel the excitement too, but you do not show him, no. You walk to the bathroom door, it's time for you to get back to work, but before you leave, you turn to Ten. "I need my day tomorrow, so I'll let you tell the boss you're going to use your day off to replace me."

The following week is the calmest week you've had since breaking up with Ten. You meet in the store, but you ignore each other. Well, you ignore him every time he tries to talk to you, it's much better than insulting him until he resigns himself to being silent. And when Christmas Eve comes, you wonder if you really made the right decision by agreeing to follow Ten. And pretend to be his partner again.

You wait outside your apartment for Ten to arrive, your hands in the pockets of your coat, and your face niched in your scarf. The cold wind is whipping your face, and the snow have started to fall on the city which is festive with the fairy lights, the decorated trees in the streets, and the laughter of the locas who are eager to come home and celebrate Christmas Eve.

Thanks to Ten, you were able to get out of work early, and also, you won't be spending Christmas on your own. That's the only positive things you can find in this strange situation. Even your friends have told you to text Ten and cancel, they all think it's bad, and they think it will do them more harm than good. And you understand them, you too wonder what will happen after the party is over, once you have to go back to your routine without each other.

But that's life, and sometimes you have to make sacrifices to avoid hurting the people you love, you think with a sigh.

When you feel ready to freeze in place, Ten's car pulls up in front of you, and you huff. Finally. He gets out of the car, and he opens the door. Seeing him do that make you roll your eyes. "I can open a door." you mumble, and when he lifts his big shining eyes, you sigh. "You'll catch a cold, Tennie." he shakes his head, and you get in the car.

You feel a weight being lifted from your shoulder as your warm up, and Ten watches you, smiling when you take off your gloves. "You want a photo, it'll last longer." you say, and he shrugs. "I'm just glad to see you." yeah, you don't believe that lie, he must already be playing his part not to be caught off guard in front of his parents.

Ten starts the engine, and begins to drive out of town. "I had my mom on the phone earlier, she is excited to see you, and so is my dad." you hum. "Me too, I really missed them." Ten's lower lip juts out, and you avoid looking at him, he knows you are weak when he acts like that. But not tonight, no. "Ten, don't forget your promise. We can't do this at every family reunion, you know that, it'll only hurt more every time.

"Yes I know, and I will, I promised, didn't I?" you nod, and you turn your head towards the window. You watch the landscape gently getting cover by a thin layer of white snow as you approach the countryside. You love the city, yes, but you would love to be able to land in the countryside, and have a simple life, far from the hustle and bustle of the city.

The rest of the road is silent, and you slowly fall asleep, you head against the window, rocked by the vibrations. It's Ten's hand on your shoulder that wakes you up. He is out in the car, and you notice that it is now dark outside. You stand up, yawning. "We're here." he says. The Lee family house is impressive, and decorated with lights. It is really beautiful, and you expected no less from Mrs. Lee whose favorite holiday is Christmas.

You get your bag and get out of the car. Your legs are numb, so you take Ten's arm to avoid tripping in the snow. Yeah, that would be fun, but you do not really want to soil your clothes now. Maybe later. You stop in front of the door, and Ten turns to you. "Ready?" and when you nod, he knocks on the door.

It only takes a minute for the door to open on Ten's mother. She looks at the both of you, and she smiles with a sweetness all her own. "My loves, how happy I am to see you! Come in or you'll get sick." Ten lets you pass, and when you enter, you are immediately engulfed in a hug. You melt, you can't help it. You feel like coming home, and god damn your heart hurt at the realization.

Ten clears his throat, and you refrain from laughing. When Mrs. Lee lets you take a step back, you both turn to the boy who frowns. "Impatient." his mother says before taking him in her arms in turn, for a shorter moment. You are pretty proud of it. "Come into the living room, the guests have already arrived."

You follow her into the living room, and you greet the guests. You and Ten have been together for a few years, so you know all of the family and friends who are used to being invited every year. "Ah, the lovers have arrived!" his father says, and you nod. You put the gifts you brought in your bag at the foot of the three, and you smile. You had a great time looking for the perfect gifts.

Immediately, you are taken aside by Ten's sister who is surprised to see you here. She is the only one in this room, besides Ten himself, who knows about your situation. Because yes, maybe you were drunk one night and called her, crying to complain about the ordeal your life had been like since breaking up with Ten. Tern is younger, but she is quite scary, so you hardly swallow your saliva when she comes face to face with you.

"What is this mess?" she asks in a whisper. "Did you get back together?" you worry your lower lip, giving Ten a furtive glance, he seems to be in the middle of a heated discussion with his father, and you shake your head. "Ten didn't say anything to your parents, so he asked me to come over, so as not to break the holiday spirit." you mumble, and if the Lee family was not there, you know Tern would go and slap her brother right away.

"You both are idiots." Tern says, and you shoulders slup. "Are you masochistic or what? Do you like hurting yourself?" you do not know what to say, you are just here to help Ten. "I know it's not the right thing to do, but it's Christmas Eve, so I'm going to pretend it's okay, smile, laugh, and be happy beofre I go back everyday life without Ten."

Tern sighs, tilting her head. "Is that what you want?" she asks before resuming. "Go back to a life without Ten? Because a person who has no more feelings would never agree to help their ex." That's the question, you don't know how you feel, your head is empty and your heart is a mess, it's been like this since Ten left. So you shrug. "I don't know Tern."

As you are about to speak, you are called out by Ten's mother who beckons you to approach. "Come help me in the kitchen for a minute, please." you nod, apologizing to Tern before joining her. There's nothing more to do, so you frown. "It's the only way to have some time with you without Ten jumping on you." she explains, and you can't help but laugh. "He learned to behave in public, don't worry."

"Is everything okay?" Ten's mother asks, and you nod. She looks worried, and for a second, you feel ready to tell her everything, but you can't, you promised Ten, and as he said himself, he doesn't want to hurt her, and neither do you. Not tonight anyway. "I'm asking because it's been a while since we've last seen you."

You nod. It's true that before, you used to visit the Lee family a couple of times each month, even though Ten was busy at work, and even more during the month of December, used to help Mrs. Lee prepare Christmas Eve. But being convinced that Ten had warned his parents, you did not do it anymore, you found it inappropriate.

"I was overwhelmed with work, I'm so sorry. But it's true that I should at least give given you a call." you explain in a weak voice, and the older woman shakes her head, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You have a job, you have a life, you have you own family, so you don't have to apologize for not having time. I get it, I was your age once."

You blame yourself more and more for the pain you are going to cause her, but you bite the inside of your cheek. Sometimes things don't go as planned, and you have to adapt. "And with Ten, is everything going well?" the question you would have liked to avoid. But you smile. "Everything is not perfect every day, but we both make an effort, because our relationship deserves it." Ten's mother smiles, she is proud to hear that her son has matured enough to do whatever it takes to keep his relationship healthy, and going.

"Don't hesitate to tell me if he crosses the line, then I'll give him a piece of my mind, believe me!" you laugh softly. You know that Mrs. Lee is, and will always be, there to help you. At least for now. But you need to stop thinking about the future, and focus on the present. You need to enjoy this last night you have with your surrogate family. "Thank you Ms. Lee, I appreciate that."

When she offers to return to the living room so as not to worry the guests, you follow her. Ten is still talking with his father, but the conversation seems to have calmed down, and you are happy. You know that the two men are used to arguing, and you have witnessed some rather disturbing scenes already, and you do not want that to happen again. You do not want to have to pick up Ten again.

"Everything okay?" you jump when Ten comes up behind you, and you turn to him. His cheeks are flushed, and you pursue your lips to stifle a laugh. "Don't tell me, your grandmother's friend?" he shakes his head with a poud, he doesn't like it when old little ladies pull his cheeks, it hurts. "My poor child. Maybe she'll stop someday."

"When she is in a coffin, yeah." Ten mumbles, and you put your hand over your mouth. "Don't say such things, Tennie!" you giggle and he smiles. He likes to be the reason for your laughter. "But to answer your question, yes, everything is fine. Your sister was a little surprised to see me here, but outside of that, like clockwork!"

Ten nods, and takes a sip from his glass of wine. He looks around him. The three, the decorations, his family, their friends, and you, and for a minute, he completely forgets that things are not the same as last year. Nothing is as before, everything is only an act. And when he turns his head towards you, and sees the lights of the tree reflected in your eyes, he thinks to himself that maybe, it was not a good idea.

See, you and Ten had a long relationship. You are his first love, and he always hoped that you would be his last. And to be honest, he still hopes so. But he knows that despite everything that has happened, all the insults you have exchanged, it would take very little time for him to fall in love again. No, he wouldn't need time at all, he is still in love, he always will be, he knows it deep down inside of him. And seeing you here, acting as your girlfriend, knowing that you'll probably never will be again, hurts like a bitch.

You think the same, and it hurts you too, but you both have too much pride to say it.

You then meet around the table, enjoying a fabulous feast prepared by Mrs. Lee. That's what you'll missed the most, the food. Ten is next to you, and every now and then, he leans in to whisper a joke in your ear. It's a tradition that you have, you try to make the other laugh, and get all eyes on yourself, knowing that it will be too inappropriate for you to say the joke out loud. At least some things are not changing.

You honestly can't remember the last time you had such a good time with Ten without it ending in an argument. What you do not notice is Tern's gaze. She watches you both, frowning. She can read between the lines. She knows that you still love each other, but are also too stupid to admit it.

The meal stretches over two hours, and when you finish, a full stomach, and ready to explode, it's time to open the presents. You get up from your chair and collect the packages. You give one to Ten's parents, one to Tern, and the last one, you hand it to Ten who titls his head. "You didn't have to, you know." he says in a whisper, and you shrug. "I know, but I got it before.. well before you know what."

Ten also gives you a present, and you arch an eyebrow at him. "I didn't want to see you pout thinking I forgot about you." he mumbles, and you smile. You open the present, and sigh. Inside is your favorite book, but not just any, the very first edition. It's old, rare, and probably extremely expensive. "Ten.." you whisper, and the boy smiles. "I know you've always dreamed of it."

What makes your heart beat a little faster is not that he gave you the book, but that he remembered it, because you only mentioned it once almost two years ago. Perhaps accusing him of never paying attention was wrong, now that you think about it. "Thank you so much Ten, you have no idea how happy this makes me." you lean over, and place a tender kiss on his cheek. And when you take a step back, you notice the rosy tint on Ten's cheeks. Cute.

"Come on, open yours!" Ten nods a minute later, the poor man needs to recover from the sudden physical contact first, then, he unwraps his present. If there is ont think Ten loves more than himself, and you, it's his watch. His father gave him his own watch for his 18th birthday, and it quickly became his most precious item, and unfortunately, he broke it a few months ago.

He thought it was irreparable, but nothing is ever irreparable, so you grabbed it one morning, and sent it over to have it fixed. It's not much for you, but when you see the tears in Ten's eyes, you knows that it was a perfect idea. "I thought I lost it." he says under his breath, and you shake your head. "I took it from you, wanted to surprise you, but I didn't expect it to take that long. I'm really sorry if I worried you."

Ten shakes his head, and he wipes his tears with his free hand, before a smile spreads over his beautiful face. "This deserves a kiss!" Ten's mother exclaims, and you hear Tern sigh loudly. "Mom, don't embarrass them." you are grateful for Ten, but you have to do it. So once more you take a step forward, and you cup Ten's face, and your face meet in the middle for a long, and soft kiss. Yeah, maybe you wanted to kiss him too. And for a while now.

"How beautiful young love is!" one person comments, and you smile weakly. Ten does the same, and you help him put the watch around his wrist. "Thank you, thank you. I don't think I will ever have enough words to thank you. It's the most perfect present." he says in a long sigh, and you smile. "I knew how much you cared about this watch." you run your fingers through Ten's hair to pull it out of his face, and realize how easy it is for you to fall back on your old habits.

The rest of the evening goes well.

You sit on the couch with Ten, and you listen to the stories the family members are telling, laughing every now and then, but you can't really focus with the heat radiating from Ten's body. Proximity in your hands. It would be so easy to take his hand, or rest your head on his shoulder.

Why the hell not, you think, it's Christmas, and you are supposed to be acting, so might as well make the most of it. You rest your head on Ten's shoulder, and if he is suprised, he doesn't show it, he lands a kiss on the top of your head. You feel his shoulders relax and you smile. You always have the same calming effect on each other. True love, but you refuse to think about it.

It's getting late, and you can't seem to suppress a long yawn, Ten notices. He stands up and you pout at the sudden lack of contact, and you sit up. "We're going to go mom, we still have a way to go, and it's snowing again." she nods, albeit a little sad, but she knows it would be too dangerous for Ten to drive if he is tired, of if there is too much snow.

"Thank you for coming, my loves, it made me very happy." once again, you find yourself engulfed in a long her that you give back with pleasure. And you thank her and Ten's father again and again for the invitation. And in a few minutes, you find yourself in front of the car. Tern follows closely behind you, and before Ten gets into the car, she puts her hand on his shoulder to take him aside. "Take care of yourself, and your heart, okay?"

Ten nods. "Don't worry, I know what to do to keep my heart safe." he looks at you to see if you heard him, but no, you are half asleep on the seat, and you would not even hear if a bomb were to explode near your ear. "Really, don't worry." he places a kiss on his sister's cheek, and he gets into the car after making sur the passenger door is closed. You collapsed into the seat, your new book clutched to your chest.

"It was a very good evening. You family is amazing." you say, and Ten can only agree. "You are right. Thank you for coming." you smile and lean your head against the window. You do not want to fall asleep, you want to enjoy your last moments with Ten, but unfortunately, fatigue quickly gets the better of you, and when you open your eyes, the car is already parked in front of your apartment complex.

"Thanks for taking me home, and thanks again for the book." you lean in to kiss the corner of his lips, but before Ten can say anything, you get out of the car. He opens the window, and you turns to him. "Have a good night, Ten." his fingers tighten around the steering wheel, and you see that he wants to say something, but he holds back. "Good night Y/n, and merry Christmas."

You walk towards the door that leads to the lobby, but the sound of the door opening and closing catches your attention. You turn around and find Ten in front of the car. You embrace your body with your arms to fight against the cold. "What are you doing, Ten?" you ask, and the boy finally approaches. He's so close you can feel his breath against your lips. "Would you like to go have coffee tomorrow? And maybe we can go check out the Christmas lights."

You smile, and you nod. "I would love this, Ten." his smile is as bright as the moon, and you chuckle softly when he places a small kiss on your lips before heading back to his car, not without a victory move that almost makes him trip in the snow.

It’s Christmas Eve. It’s the one night of the year when we all act a little nicer, we smile a little easier, we cheer a little more. For a couple of hours out of the whole year, we are the people that we always hoped we would be.

And maybe sometimes, you can decide to stay that kind of people.

[firelinphd]

dad!shinmon x mom!reader | the twins

benimaru shinmon x reader

female reader

When (Y/N) has to go to another city for a whole week because of work, Beni has to take care of the twins by himself.

no warning

I gave the twins name so it would be easier to follow and understand but of course you can change them however you want !

all the characters are older, since the twins are 6, let's say they were born when shinmon was 22, his canon age

       ''But how am I supposed to take care of the twins and the town for a whole week ?'' Benimaru asked his wife, who had just told him she had to move for a whole week because of work. ''Beni, if you can handle a whole town being under attack and kill 6 infernals in the same day, you can take care of your girls. And Konro, Hina and Hika are here anyway, right ?'' She replied to reassure him. Meanwhile, the girls, who were 6, were very happy that they got to spend some time with their dad alone and in the 7th Company.

He was always busy, and even if he had time to spend with them, being with him all day long for a whole week would be very different for them. ''Remember that if you ever get one something, the other has too, okay ?'' The woman reminded her husband. ''Of course, they're twins.'' He replied. But (Y/N) arched an eyebrow. ''I'm reminding you cause last time you found a bunny figure to give Lucy, and Lana didn't get anything. She thought you had a favorite !'' She said. ''Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry. I won't do it again.'' He replied, still busy writing a paper. The woman rolled her eyes ; she was going to tell everything the twins needed to Konro as well.

The girls kissed their mom's cheek as she was waving at them. She had a suitcase with her, and Benimaru was waiting for his turn to tell his goodbyes. Once the twins ran away, he hugged (Y/N), breathing her perfume. ''Take care, okay ?'' He told her. ''Don't worry. But you, take care of the twins !'' She replied, giggling. Actually, that made the man chuckle, rolling his eyes playfully. ''In 6 years, I've learnt how to do that.'' He said. She snorted and kissed him, before jumping in the car that was waiting for her. Luckily, two of her colleagues were going with her, and they were great friends ; which reassured the brunette.

He turned to check on his girls ; they had run away and were already out of sight. Sure, they had inherited his hair color and Lana had his eyes color as well. But they had inherited (Y/N)'s personality so much. He sighed, already calling their names. ''Lucy ! Lana !'' He thought he had had enough with Hina and Hika for all those years, until he got twins himself. However, since Lucy had (e/c) eyes and Lana had pink ones, it was easier to recognize them. Cause still, they wanted to have the exact same hair and hairstyle, for some reason.

Maybe they will want to be different once they will be older. But right now, they were 6 years old, acting like trouble children and hiding somewhere in the house -or maybe they had run to the firehouse, it was just behind the house, after all. ''Girls, where are you already ? I'm a tired man, don't make me run all over the house !'' He said, calling them. ''We know you can run ! You run fast when you fight infernals !'' He heard a voice from behind him. ''Lucy ? Lucy, tell me where you are.'' He said.

''We want pancakes, and we want them now !'' Lana said, using a villain voice. ''Are you kidding ? Mom's been gone for 4 minutes and you're already missing with me and giving me orders !'' Benimaru said, restraining a laughter ; he knew that if he showed he found it funny, they would absolutely never calm down. ''Come on girls, if you behave, we'll go to that candy shop at the frontier of Asakusa.'' He heard a gasp, which made him bite his lip not to laugh. He was sure they noticed him smile, though. ''Demolishing King of Asakusa, you got us agreeing.'' Lana said, standing up in front of her dad, Lucy following.

Benimaru crouched down to be at their level. '''Dad' would’ve been better and shorter.'' He started, tipping Lana's nose at the name she had called him by. ''But that's nice of you, girls.'' He said. After that, they spent the whole day at the firehouse, and as he had promised, Benimaru went to the candy shop with them -they came back with way too many candies, but it was a dad and girls week, they could have some more things as usual.

      It had been a tiring week for Benimaru, as the twins were always getting off of hand and hiding anywhere they could. They wanted to enjoy those moments with their dad the best they could, ending up with them sitting on both his shoulders like Hina and Hika used to do -they actually taught them how to do that, and even if the brunette was happy his daughters were friends with the twins, he sighed thinking they would never leave his shoulders alone.

         ''Girls. You know that mom comes back tonight. That's why I wanted to spend the day making her a surprise.'' He said, the twins gasping and getting excited at the thought. ''What could we do ?'' Lana asked. ''A cake ! You know how to bake cakes dad, right ?'' Lucy asked. He didn't know much, but he could look for a recipe. He only nodded, smiling when his daughters cheered. ''Which taste ?'' He asked. ''Vanilla ?'' Lana asked. ''No, dummy ! Mom prefers strawberry !'' Lucy said.

        ''Don't fight. We won’t have everything to bake a vanilla or a strawberry cake. But we do have everything to make a chocolate one. You both love chocolate so much, so of course we have some.'' Benimaru said, whilst taking all the ingredients they needed and putting them on the table. ''We wash our hands...'' he said while doing it, his daughters mirroring his action, ''... and we tie our hair.'' and once again, he did, his daughters mimicking him. ''You did a man bun.'' One twin said. ''Yeah ?'' Their dad replied, confused. ''Keep it on, mom told us she loved it.'' The other twin added. The brunette giggled and agreed to keep it on.

       As they were baking the cake, the girls thought of questions they didn't really think of before. But now that their mom was out of town because of her job, they had some curiosity about it. ''Mom isn't a firefighter, right ?'' Lucy asked, her dad shaking his head. ''Why ?'', ''She doesn't have any power.'' He explained. ''How did you meet her, then ?'' Lana asked. ''You do remember when she said your granddad turned into an infernal, right ?'' The two little girls realized, humming. ''Ooooh, so you saved her !'' Lucy said, her dad nodding. ''So mom was like happy that grandpa died ?'' Lana asked, making Benimaru burst into laughter.

        ''Honey, don't say it like that ! She wasn't happy grandpa died ! But she was comforted that I was there, though. Oh my God, 'she was happy grandpa died' you said !'' He kept laughing, his twins laughing with him. When the cake was done, the girls decided to take a quick nap on the couch, until their mom was back. However, Lucy woke up to go to the toilets and ended up sleeping hugging her dad. Benimaru was texting Konro, asking if everything was alright at the firehouse, when he heard the door open. He laid his daughter back on the couch, greeting (Y/N). Of course, the noise woke the young girls up.

       ''Mom, we have a surprise for you !'' One said. ''It's in the kitchen ! See ! See !'' The other added, making their mom giggle, following them. Benimaru took the cake off the oven, putting in the table. His hair was still tied in a bun, and he had put gloves on not to burn himself. ''So hot.'' (Y/N) whispered, the man widening his eyes at her remark. But the girls didn't understand what she was talking about. ''Yes, the cake is hot !'', ''We'll have to wait a bit before eating it !'' They said. It made their dad laugh.

         ''Yes girls, we'll eat it after dinner tonight. It's our dessert.'' He said. The girls ran to the living room to watch TV after their mom thanked them for their surprise. ''Thank you too, sir.'' She told Benimaru, chuckling. ''They really inherited your personality.'' He commented. But he didn't care. They were his perfect little girls, no matter what.

[patchoulimademoiselle]

Guilty. (Part 2.)

Part Two. 

Steve Rogers (Lawyer AU) x Reader Insert.

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: Natasha Romanoff gives off crazy sex appeal, smoking, self destructive habits, laguange, masturbation, SMUT, fingering, choking.  

Masterlist. 

Part two: 

The next time you see Steve, he's freshly showered with wet hair, clad in a navy suit that brings out the blue of his eyes. He looks tired, even despite all he's done to clean himself up. His eyes are red, his face expressionless, and if it weren't for the coffee in his hand you would be concerned he won't make it through the day.

He grabs you when he gets close enough, hand on your elbow to pull you in close, "I need you on the next one." Is all he says, voice a whisper.

"What is it?" You ask, hand on his chest to stop him from walking inside your office. Wanda is here, and you have something you need to tell him as well. "We need to talk. Privately."

He nods, glancing down at his wrist watch. "Your place in an hour, I need to pack up here. Send Wanda home, don't let her do anything else."

That gets your head spinning, gears turning, the strange way she was acting this morning and the urgency in his demeanor, something is wrong. Very wrong.

You nod, patting twice where your hand rests. You turn on your heel, leaving him to watch after you. You place your hand on Wanda's shoulder, "You've done great today, hun. But I'm going to pack up and head out, you need to do the same. Can you take the metro?"

She nods. "Yeah, sure. Found something worth chasing?" She asks, pencil dropping in her hand.

"Something like that." You sigh. "I'll call you when I need you again. Be safe, and let me know when you're home."

"Sure thing." She looks happy to be sent home early, but annoyed. You woke her up early only to send her home after a few hours. Hopefully you would be able to explain yourself, but for now, she's a liability, and she needs to be gone.

You lock the door behind her, turning to Steve who stands with his arms crossed, deep in thought even though his eyes are already on you.

"Wanda said something to me today-"

"Her brother is involved."

"What?" He cuts you off before you could even finish.

"Her brother is a lawyer on the case. He's her twin, young and inexperienced just like her. But he's licensed, and he's working the case."

You're shocked, sinking back against the door for support. "Do you think she's been leaking information?"

He shakes his head. "No, she doesn't know anything, because we don't know anything."

It's an exaggeration, but it's true, you've hardly covered anything at all for her to start leaking information to her brother. She may not even know he's on the case yet, let alone been able to agree to spy for him.

"So what do we do?" You ask.

"Keep her here, see if she talks." He says, hand on his chin. "Filter her tasks, minor enough to not be important, but important enough to not make her think we're on to her."

"That or miss-feed her." You suggest. "She won't be present in court, she isn't permitted to be without my permission. Whatever she feeds them should be off stray enough to give us an advantage."

"That's good." He nods, eyes flicking to you for a moment. "That's real good."

You have the nerve to smile, letting out a puff of air. You won't tell him about the car ride this morning, at least not yet. Not until he's settled. He's still stressed, you can see it on the wrinkles on his forehead, in the way his fingers twitch against his chin. You know what he's going to ask before he asks it, eyes floating up to your face. "Cigarette?"

You nod to your purse, and he's quick to get it for himself, not even caring to step out on the balcony before lighting one to smoke it. You eye the smoke detector warily. "I need you to come with me for the next one. It's a woman, Natasha Romanoff, and she's going to eat me alive the moment she sets eyes on me."

You aren't sure what that means, but you know it can't be good. You've never heard of her, lawyer or not, and that's never a good sign.

"What do you need me for?" You ask.

"You're a woman, you can read other women. It's up to you to decide if she's full of shit or not."

He speaks so bluntly, as if you two are nothing more than colleagues after all, and a part of you feels uneasy about it. It feels like you're walking into a trap, it feels like all the odds have been stacked against you, and rather than reassure you, his anxiety is making you feel even worse.

"Steve, stop talking like this." You groan, slamming your head back against the door. You still haven't walked away from it. "You're making it sound like we're apart of the mafia and not the public justice system."

He smiles, eyes a little lighter. "We might as well be." Is all he says, walking towards the balcony, letting himself outside.

If you weren't tired before you definitely are now, the lack of sleep the night before on top of all this excitement was proving to be too much for you. You sit back at your desk and take a sip of water, closing your eyes for a moment. You reflect on everything you've just learned, the risk you're taking by keeping Wanda on your team.

She's a good girl, hard working, and it hurts to think that she may betray you down the road. It would be easier to let her go now, gently and easily, tell her that the firm doesn't have enough funding to pay her, tell her that you're unfit to have an assistant. Anything is better than letting the poor girl walk into a trap. You can hear Steve scolding you before you even suggest it. Letting her go would not only be a sign of weakness, exposing a soft spot to women on your team, but also alerting Stark's lawyers that you know what their next move will be. The small advantage you have will be gone in an instant.

The life of a lawyer is a hard one.

"Falling asleep on me?" Steve knocks against your desk top, your eyes snap open to glare at him.

"I wish." You groan, sitting up in your chair. "What do we need to go to my place for?"

"In an hour," He reminds you. "We have something else to talk about, something entirely unrelated to this case."

That has your attention, sleep deprivation leaving you. "About?"

There's a smile on his face that you can't place, a ghost of a smirk curling his lips in a way that makes your stomach flip and flushes your cheeks. "You'll see." He doesn't give you time to dwell on it, nodding towards the door, telling you it's time to go.

You grab your purse and take one last sip of water, pushing your hair back off your face before you stand. Your heels echo as you follow after him, making sure to lock the door to your office behind you.

Natasha Romanoff is a character, that's all you can say while being respectful of her practice as a former lawyer. She's witty, giving off a sex appeal that leaves even you flustered a few times, not to mention Steve. He's a speechless fool every time she locks eyes with him, and a part of you is jealous by that, the other part knowing you have no choice but to speak up and save him from the torture she's putting him through. It's all a test, and now you understood your purpose in going along. He needed saving, a solid reminder to remain professional no matter what. If you weren't there, she probably would have tried to seduce him.

But you don't fall under her spell so easily, remaining stone faced as she throws her best wit at you, and her most obscene pick up lines. She's good. She knows how good she looks, and she uses it to her full advantage. It's a dirty trick to use in a court room, but it's gained her a successful career that you can only dream off, so you try to show her nothing but respect as you drill her with your questions.

"We're here about Stark." You cut the formalities, Steve shifts and readjusts his suit jacket. "We can't walk into this blind, we need to know his strategies."  

She's smiling at you over a cup of tea, she offered you one and of course you both declined, not classy enough to drink something like tea. "Stark is unpredictable." She says, lipstick leaving a bright red print behind on her cup. "Let's start there."

Notepad and pen at the ready, Steve pulls out his phone to record, setting it out on the table for all to see. Natasha takes note of it and rolls her eyes. "You can quote me on anything you want, but don't think I'm going to testify." She says. "Stark will ruin all of us, don't be stupid."

It was stupid, the way Steve laid all of your cards out on the table. It shows how desperate you really are, you have no tricks up your sleeve and no back up plan. But the again, it could be a front. Natasha doesn't know that you have a potential spy on your team, she also doesn't know that you're fully aware of just how desperate Stark must be as well. Either way, you trust her enough to be truthful, but calling her to the stand would be a suicide mission. She's obviously afraid of Stark, and you aren't blind to the fact that she would turn on you if it were in her favor.

"We don't want you on the stand." Steve says what you were thinking, and you try to hide a smile. "We just want to know what he'll try to throw at us."

You're in sync, two of the same mind, and my god, if there was ever a time you wanted to kiss him, it would be right now. He looks so serious, determination spread across his features, yet there's a tint to his cheeks that gives away his exhaustion, the lack of sleep you had the night before would soon catch up with you both, coffee or not, and you have a feeling that somehow it's going to inconvenience you.

"Everything he can." Natasha sets down her tea cup, shifting in her seat. "Especially whatever this is." She waves a finger between you both, "This protectiveness you have of each other will be the end of you. They'll dig into it and exploit it."

You know that, Steve knows that, and it's the very reason that there is nothing going on between you to begin with. But the chemistry is there, there is no hiding that. A stranger could tell, a woman who has laid eyes on you for just a few minutes. It's obvious that there is something, even if it's not official, and even if it hasn't been explored.

If her observation phases him, he doesn't let it show, eyebrows furrowed. "He plays dirty, sure. We know that. Tell me something I can't hear anywhere else," Steve says. "What has he asked from you personally as a lawyer."

Her eyes slit down into a glare, one that stops your heart beat even though it isn't directed at you. "I'm not going to testify."

"Yes, we know." You sigh, tapping a single fingernail on the table. "Off the record, the recording is just for our notes. Just tell us exactly how dirty he can get. What are some things that he's asked of you in the past?" What laws has he broken?

She hesitates, pondering her options and their consequences, then lets out a heavy sigh, settling back into her seat with her fingers pressed to her temples. "This is going to ruin my credibility." She says. "I can't give you specifics, but he does like to bend the rules a bit. He looks for loopholes, breaking one law in favor of another to cover his ass."

She stands, walking back to her desk and pulling open a drawer, you and Steve exchange a look, his hand clamps down on your thigh as he offers you a tired smile, forced, but the gesture shines through nonetheless. "I do have something I can give you though. It's a case I worked on, it was kept out of the media, but there may be some details here that can help you." She digs around, fingers skimming alphabetically arranged folders, plucking one up and bringing it back over to you. "It's a lawsuit over workers comp'," She says, eyes on you. "It's not much, but it's all I can offer."

It's good enough, she's smart, and she knows exactly what's being put on the line by helping you. So you take what you can get, nodding, you take the file from her hand. "Thank you." You say, standing, and Steve follows suit. You shake her hand. "You know how the reach us, let me know if we can ever return the favor in the future."

You've made an ally, you realize now that Natasha wasn't a dirty lawyer, she was just smart enough to know better than risk her career and reputation. She's got a bit of red in her ledger, but by helping you she's wiping it out, doing what she can where she can, and you respect it wholeheartedly.

You both leave, Steve's hand on your back to push you forward as you leave Natasha's office. In his car, you open the file she gave you, looking over the case she was assigned. It's a couple years old, but fairly similar to what you're dealing with. Stark Industries refusing to pay a worker, the lawsuit was buried under false claims of fraud, the employee was fired and had to pay a settlement fine. "Steve," You reach over and pat his arm, his eyes floating over to you for a moment, his hand flexing on the steering wheel. "This is golden."

The small handout Natasha gave you is huge, a gold mine, all you had to do was find this former employee and convince them to go on the stand along with James Barnes. "What is it?" Steve asks.

"You need to meet with, Brock Rumlow." Your eyes scan the file. "Former employee who sued for workers comp, Stark buried him under false fraud charges."

Steve hums, thumb tapping against the steering wheel, "I'll go by tomorrow after I look over his file. Offer him immunity, and a chance to reopen his case. He'll be fully compensated, there's no reason he'll say no if he's looking for a chance to get his justice."

You sound like vigilantes, smiling to yourself as you shut the file and tuck it into your purse for safe keeping. You don't go back to the office, Steve turns down your street and you remember suddenly that he wanted to meet at your place. The nerves set in immediately, a silence falling between you as he pulls into your driveway, cutting the engine of his car.

He takes off his seat belt, shifts a bit to look at you, and for the first time, you're nervous to be alone with him.

"Of all the years I've known you, I've never known you to be shy, Y/n." He says, tone deep and voice mocking your demeanor.

You glare over at him, "I've never known you to be so reserved with me."

Both are lies. You were shy at first, eager to please and never wanting to disappoint, his every criticism molding you into the lawyer you are today. He was never open with you at first, his trust was something you had to earn, but now that your dynamic was established, the silence between you feels like something from a past life. You, a shiny new assistant, and he your mentor. A flash back into the past, you feel so small sitting next to him.

You expect him to say something coy, but his eyes are tired as he looks at you. "Are you going to invite me in or not?"

With a roll of your eyes, and him hot on your trail, you get out of the car and unlock the front door, letting him inside. You step out of your heels, dropping in height, and move quickly to get away from him before he can comment on it. You head into the kitchen, putting on a fresh pot of coffee, turning to find him standing at the island, eyes locked on you.

"What did you want to talk about?" You lean back against the sink, arms crossed, a safe distance between you. Yet you still feel a bit flustered under his gaze.

"Us," He says it simply, as if that should answer your question. "This case is going to be dangerous for us."

The way he says the word sends a chill up your spine, and you can't stop yourself from shivering. The word weighs heavily in your mind and on his tongue, the hint of something more, the same something everyone sees but you're too afraid to acknowledge.

"There is no us."

The words sound flat to your own ears, unconvinced, and the pointed look he gives you from across the island says the same. "There is an us." He says, palms flat on the marble table top. "It's forbidden, and unspoken, but it's there." He pauses, sighs to himself, "And it's driving me crazy."

Driving him crazy, your memories take you back to your fresh days at the firm, those days where you didn't have to pretend not to like each other, where you could bask in his appreciative gaze and not have to think twice about the consequences. You wish it could feel that way now, pinned under his stare, you wish you could enjoy it, but all you feel is the risk you're taking by even been here right now, completely alone in your house where anyone could assume anything.

He licks his lips, makes a move to step around the counter, and you stop him before he can get any closer, finger pointed at him in warning, "Don't you dare."

Don't you dare come any closer because I won't be able to stop myself.

You busy yourself with pouring two mugs of coffee, adding cream and sugar for him, just sugar for you, glaring at the man as you slide his mug across the island to him. He matches your stare, forever challenging you, not stopping even as he takes a sip.

"We can't." Is all you say. "We can't, and you know we can't. So don't."

The air falls silent between you, and for a moment you think he's going to listen to you. You think he's going to stay away and stick to the rules he set long ago when you first met. But then he sets his mug down, rounding the island to takes yours from you as well, setting it aside.

He's on you quick, fingers on your jaw to hold you in place as he captures your lips in a warm kiss. Your eyes flutter closed, the feeling you've longed for washing over you, leaning into his touch. His other hand is on your hip, grip digging in, and it's enough to snap you out of it.

You pull back, leaning over the sink behind you. He tries to follow. "Steve-" Your voice comes out as a strangled wine, and it doesn't help your case, his lips peppering against your jaw instead.

"Everything you do is such a tease." He says, fingers sliding down your throat. "Even when you try to resist me, you were designed to tempt me."

You don't know where this is coming from, he always seems so collected around you. But here, now, he's losing it, your very existence eating away at his resolve.

"Your little skirts and high heels, you have no idea-" He cuts himself off, shoulders rising with each breath he takes, grinding his hips against you, and oh, you feel it.

You aren't a lawyer right now, all your training and years of experience out of the window. Right now you were completely at his mercy, held under his grip, right where he wants you. You gasp as you feel his grip tighten around your neck, pulling you to meet his lips once again.

You don't resist the second time, eyes closing as you wrap your arms around his neck. He hums against your lips, approval, hands dropping to hoist you up on the edge of your sink, prying your legs apart to wrap around his torso.

You can feel his bare hands on your thighs, inching their way up under your skirt, it makes you flinch, touch starved, not expecting the intimacy of him holding you here like this. Your thoughts betray you, your body betrays you, your back arching into his touch, pressing you against his chest. You've had a little taste, his hands warm as they explore, and now you've decided you want more.

His lips are warm with coffee, lips sweet with sugar, and when he grinds into you this time, you feel it right between your legs, the material of his pants brushing against your panties. You don't hold back this time, moaning into his mouth. He swallows it eagerly, tugging you even closer if possible.

"Do you remember?" He whispers against your lips, letting you catch your breath. "Do you remember how I used to spread you out on my desk just like this?"

He doesn't let you answer though, eyes falling from yours to examine you fully, and you can feel when his gaze reaches your sex, "Cute panties."

You want him to ruin them, push them to the side and stretch them out as he fucks you. Right here, bent over the sink like you're the house keeper, his dirty little secret.

A whine slips past your lips at the thought, your legs squeezing his hips in an attempt to grant yourself some kind of friction, and he had the nerve to coo at you, kissing your lips. "You little succubus." He says, "I've dreamed about this."

Something about Steve Rogers naked in bed and dreaming of you sounds dirty, and you decide you like it, suddenly his kisses aren't enough for you.

"Steve-" Again, you call his name, not sure what else to say. But the urgency is there, the strain in your voice and the desperation in your eyes is all clear to him as you muster up enough courage to touch him, fingers cupping him through his pants, your knuckles brushing against your own sex at the same time.

He inhales sharply, closing his eyes, and you enjoy the brief power you have over him, massaging his erection. It doesn't last long, fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you away.

He draws back as far as your legs let him, eyes locking with yours. "This will never happen, I meant that." He says, "But I can't stop wanting you."

It's like he's trying to torture you, and you've had enough. "Please just touch me." You're not one to beg. But for this, you would drop to your knees if he asked you to. "If you can't do anything else, just touch me."

He hesitates, finger pushing your panties to the side, the pad of his thumb gliding through your slick. It pulls a groan form him that you've never heard before, realizing that you're this wet for him. "Fuck, Y/n." He pants against your mouth, kissing long forgotten as he steals a glance down at the scene in front of him. "You're so good."

You don't know what he means by that, you don't know if he's talking about how you look, or how you feel, but either way you relish in his praise, nudging his face with yours to kiss him again.

He's greedy, slipping his tongue into your mouth, drawing slow circles with the pad of his thumb as you grind into his hand. It becomes too much, the pressure directly where you need it, and you try to back away for some air.

"No, don't run." His grip on your thigh is tight as he holds you in place. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? My hand up your skirt?" He kisses your cheek, pressing his thumb hard against your clit. You whine, body twitching at the intensity of his touch. "This is what you've been after all those late nights you pranced around teasing me?"

Teasing him how? You can't think, his words too much when they're accompanied with touch.

"Hair a mess, shirt undone, you don't realize what you look like?" He's slow in slipping his fingers inside of you, "You look good enough to fuck."

All the times he's reminded you why this can't happen fly right out of the window at the thought of him fucking you, at the thought of what his cock might look like, tip swollen red and leaking precum, stretching you out slowly.

"You want me to fuck you, don't you?"

You've never moved so quick, head nodding at a pace that rattles your brain a little. And he has the nerve to smirk, shaking his head at you. "I can't, baby." It makes you whine, and he's quick to shush you with a kiss. "There will be no stopping if I do, you know what's at stake."

But his actions contrast his words, cock growing in his pants right before your very eyes. His fingers pick up speed, his other hand at the small of your back to balance you, "Don't move." Is all he says, fingers moving at a rapid pace, the palm of his hand brushing your clit.

You clench around his fingers, feeling your pleasure start to build up, and it makes him shudder at the feeling. He can see it, your pussy throbbing in anticipation as he fucks you with his fingers, and he wants nothing more than to replace them with his cock. He groans, closing his eyes, not able to stand the sight of it.

But then you do something unexpected, eyes snapping open when you reach to undo his pants, freeing his erection. It springs up at attention, red and swollen, the sight of it alone makes you jolt, fingers eager to touch him.

He gasps at your touch, because you do something he's never felt before, your palm cupping his tip and smearing his precum as you slowly jerk him off, his hips matching your every movement.

When he cums, it's warm against the tops of your thighs, glistening as he continues to fuck his fingers into you. Your toes curl, and he realizes that you're struggling to orgasm. He decides to take mercy on you, pulling you against his chest, voice in your ear, "Is this what you need?" He asks, kissing your neck. "Can't come without my voice in your head?"

He's teasing you, throwing it right in your face that you can't get off without a little affection, but you don't care, panting and desperate, teetering on the edge of what you want.

"It's okay, I got you." He nudges his nose along your jaw, pulling back to steak a kiss from you. You hate the fact that it's helping. And then, "Cum."

And you do, hard, twitching under his hold. He kisses you through it, fingers slowing ever so slightly, until finally you're left slumped against him. He reaches for a dish towel, wiping you clean before helping you back down onto your feet. You feel exhausted, panting for breath, sweat coating your face, too tired to register the way he slips his fingers into his mouth.

"You did good work today," He says, leaning in to kiss you one last time, and you taste yourself on his lips. "Get some sleep."

He lets you go then, smile tired and lazy as he walks around the island. "Steve, my car."

He doesn't say anything in response to that, he only shrugs his shoulders, the atmosphere shifting once again. "We need to stay on our toes." He says. "And you need to meet with James at least once before the trial. He requested it. I'll take you."

It amazes you how quickly he recovered, just seconds ago he was cumming across your thighs and now he's stone faced as if he didn't just lick your cum off of his fingers.

"Okay. I'll meet with James tomorrow, you can meet with Brock." You nod at your own suggestion. "It will give me an excuse to keep Wanda away tomorrow."

He finishes his coffee and leaves, not saying another word, and a part of you feels oddly rejected by it. He comes here, gets you all worked up, chases a nut and then leaves. The worst part is that you can't deny how much you enjoyed it. The feeling of his lips against yours, the dirty words he whispered in your ear, his cock hard in your hand. It has you horny all over again, the shower head pressed to your sex as you shower, eyes closed tight as you imagine it being something else entirely.

You sleep well that night, the ghost feeling of his hands on your body, and it's the best sleep you've had in a while.

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

Steve is a piece of shit, and I love it. 

Guilty masterlist.

Ways you can support my work:

Like, repost, share with a friend. 

Buy me a coffee? Thanks for reading. 

[zwiezraczek]

Player [Blurb]

Part 2: Believer  - Part 3 - Part 4: Lover

~~~

Tied up in your basement. Tied up in your own fucking basement. The treatment of a a mole, of a snitch. Nothing else. Your hands hurt, felt sore with the rope tied around them, you weresure about the scars on your skin after all of this. But would there be an after all of this? You doubted.

Billy did his best, he did his best to protect the Ghosts. But every time he hesitated, rolled his eyes, refused to speak he could hear your voice, your muffled screams as you begged for them to stop. You cried all night long, you cried your eyes dry. They splashed your face with glasses of water, cold water, icy water as you gasped before opening your eyes to see Billy, right in front of you. He looked miserable, probably as miserable as you – with eyes half-closed, blood on his sweatshirt, a reddish face but still these gleaming eyes in the dark. Yet, he managed to smile, faintly as he caught your gaze.

A sweet metallic taste in your mouth reminded you that you were probably bleeding more than you thought you were. You breathed heavily as your father passed-by, avoiding your eyes, but he couldn't avoid you forever. And he knew it, because he looked at you. Somehow, behind his outraged expression you saw pain, regret, probably deception. And with a sight, he approached you, knelt in front of you and took your chin into his hand, much more delicately than he did yesterday as he pressed his thumb and index into your cheeks while Billy cried to make him stop, cried information, exposed himself. And now, you had pain in your eyes too, but more hate than pain.

“My only daughter,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb against your cheek in a cold and displeased tone hiding probably much more. “Why,” he asked, “why?” You refused to reply, looking down at your bare feet, and he began to caress your cheek with his hand. “I love you so much y/n, but I hate you so much at the same time...”

“Same here,” you coughed, you didn't intend to, but your throat was sore and dry.

“Here, drink some water,” he offered, taking a glass of water standing at the foot of your chair before putting it against your lips. And you drank, as if water was the most delicious beverage on earth.

“Thank you,” you said against your will, relieved yet angry at yourself. You couldn't stand the mixed feelings he aroused in your heart, you couldn't stand how poorly he treated people – children – and how poorly he treated Billy.

“You are still my daughter after all,” he murmured before standing up and going to talk to Billy.

~~~

“I will kill the youngster, I will fucking kill him,” One repeated endlessly as he paced back and forth in the room in which the Ghosts held an emergency meeting. Three day, three days without hearing from Billy. All because of this stupid mission.

“I will kill him too,” Seven added, “and then I'll kill myself for even listening to him when he told me to not shoot! He made a fucking fool out of me...!”

Two only gave them a dark look, her arms crossed on her chest as she glanced at Three who was typing something on the computer. The clicks of the keyboard made the silence unbearable, maybe even more than her teammate's complaints. Only Five sat in front of a coffee, her head resting against her hand as she looked down on the papers. She was furious, she spent nights looking for some medical records of this man, studying what she found, looking at Four's records to make sure how much he could handle without any proper care... And she pinned all that on the large board in their plan room. She felt exhausted, but she wouldn't feel relief until Four was here, with them.

“Listen,” Two finally spoke up, wanting to escape the endless silence she made herself, “we know we fucked up. Four wasn't the best choice for this mission, I should have...”

“Stop this,” One interrupted her almost violently. “I told him he was the perfect man for this because he knew everything about the house, because he was somehow linked to this and... Fuck, I was the one telling to cut the ties with the living world oh my fuck.”

“If you don't stop this, I'm going to explode,” Five added, and they all looked surprised at her. “We don't need to talk, we need to act and Three and I seem to be the ones to actually take the matters into our hands,” she said and Three hummed in approval.

“Fine, I'm looking the guy up in the CIA files,” Two said, before she sat next to Three and began to type herself.

“I'm going out,” Seven said, “I just... I need to be alone with all of this,” he stated. He felt guilty, absolutely guilty about this situation. He had to pull the trigger. He had to... But Four said that he shouldn't, so he listened to him, just like he did when his squad died. Just like that.

“Going out with you,” One said, not being able to handle the tension in the room himself.

~~~

You looked up at the ceiling, this gray ceiling made of concrete. You always have hated this basement, even more now. Everything smelt like humidity, and the things that the man your worked with one brought for you and Billy to eat weren't really helping to set a nice atmosphere. But at least, you had something to eat from time to time.

From time to time, they left you alone with Billy, far from you, as far as possible but you were still able to see him, hear him – and so was him, especially when they tortured you. You looked at him, trying to give him a reassuring smile, you tried your best with the corner of your cracked lips, and he smiled back, closing his eyes.

“Why are you doing this,” you asked him, your voice still weak but audible – thanks to the glass of water they made you drink earlier.

“BDSM kink,” he joked. And even in this situation he made you chuckle a bit, making your stomach hurt a bit from the punches you got. But it was worth it.

“You and your sick kinks,” you whispered. “You should have stayed quiet, my father wouldn't let me die, and you know that.”

“I know that, but I can't see you suffer anymore,” he admitted looking you right in the eye. “I watched you suffer because of me, I couldn't screw the things up again as I did three years ago.”

“You did the right thing back then.”

“I'm doing the right thing right now, protecting the one that never gave up on me.” You could see how his smile widened as he spoke about you, and about your support. You couldn't help yourself but smile too. Maybe too much, and at the worst moment because one of your ex-colleagues entered the room.

“Y/N is soft and flirts with the enemy,” he chanted mockingly, rubbing his hands.

“Fuck you,” you said, a rush of confidence running through your veins.

“Want to taste blood, little girl,” the man asked, standing tight in front of you as you looked up at him.

“Tasted so much blood in my life, wouldn't be a problem,” you retorted.

“Hey, you,” Billy interrupted and the man turned back, “why don't you try to hurt somebody your size?” He laughed. The man laughed before approaching Billy, a grin on his face.

“Because hurting you won't provide more information, pretty boy, but hurting her, over there,” he precised with a movement of his head towards you, “will make you speak and sing and even dance as we want you to. So no, I won't damage you more than we already did in the first place, I'll just watch you suffer ad I hurt this lady over there, once my superior you know.”

“You're a lucky bastard, you're so lucky that I don't have my gun right here, with me,” you managed to say in a much more audible voice than before, “you would be dead, just like this girl three years ago.”

“The one you killed because of your undying love for your so-called 'bestfriend',” he teased you as he tilted his head looking at you. “Don't make me laugh more than I already did when this clown spoke. Please, y/n, I thought you were better than that.”

Your blood boiled inside your veins as the man sat in the chair next to the exit and began to look at his phone, ignoring both of you. What annoyed you even more, was how accurate his words were. You killed her as a revenge, because Billy was your bestfriend, your soulmate, and losing him meant losing anything and everything – your sanity first and foremost. Finding him meant the same, just at the moment you found your stability through killing and partying, he stormed in your life again, just to fuck your emotions up and to remember you how much you suffered without him. But you couldn't be mad at him, because he explained everything to you, because he allowed you to see trough your father... You closed your eyes. What a fucking bad situation to be in.

~~~

“We're almost in,” Three said as One put a hand on his shoulder looking at the screen on which Three was working.

“So we're ready. Tomorrow, we strike.”

[creativejoon]

Comfortable uncertainty (M)

P1 | P2 | P3 | P4 | P5 | P6

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

A/N: CEO!Yoongi #NoEmotionalAttachmentsButHeCatchesFeelingsAnyway!Yoongi

This turned out angstier than I intended it to? I got carried away I guess so if you’re not that much into angst this part will probably suck.

But I tried updating this part fast because I felt part 2 absolutely sucked, I’m really not happy with it.

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

It’s been three days. Three days since I found out that my best friend had to have been admitted to the hospital. Three days since I got a proper full nights sleep. Three days since I have stepped a foot out of the hospital and had a shower. Three days since I heard her lively voice last.

She still hasn’t woken up. She was laying there as if she were asleep, but she just won't wake up. It’s like if I shake her, give her a proper shake, she’ll suddenly awaken from a deep sleep. But that wasn’t the case.

Apparently, she had suffered an allergic reaction in a coffee shop not too far from my house and was admitted to the hospital immediately. They said she’d be fine, but they’re unsure as to when she’d wake up.

I couldn’t leave her side until she did. There was no way I was gonna go home, shower, eat, sleep basically live on with my life whilst my best friend just overcame fighting for hers.

The day she was admitted to the hospital, yoongi was the person they called. Considering she didn’t have any close family members nearby, and yoongi and her weren’t only colleagues but friends, she’d probably had him saved as an emergency contact on her phone. I know this is beyond ridiculous of me, but a small part of me did wish I was the one to receive the call..we were best friends, after all, weren’t we?

“You’re still here?!” I didn’t hear yoongi coming through the door, my thoughts were just a little too loud to notice. The day we came to the hospital together, we both stayed overnight. When he wanted to leave early morning, he insisted for me to go home too, shower, eat and get some rest. But I couldn’t do that. I told him I’d stay for one more hour only and would go home afterward, but yet, here I am, in the same old clothes, with the same, red, sleepy eyes, staring at Rita.

I opened my mouth to speak, but a yawn escaped instead. Yoongi frowned. “You said you would go home that night. Look at you, you need some rest! Did you step a foot out of this room since? Or have you just been lying to me over the past few days?” My head shot up. He was frustrated. Was he worried about me?

“Yoongi, I cannot just leave! I..” I stood up from my seat to stand in front of him. “..this” my eyes started to water, my vision blurred by the tears threatening to roll down my cheek. “This isn’t just anyone,yoongi. It’s Rita. This is Rita.” And suddenly the big lump in my throat finally exploded. I cried. This was frustrating, why did I have to cry in front of him? I knew she would be fine, I knew that her life was no longer under threat. Why was I crying?

Yoongi’s eyes went a little wide. He hadn’t seen me cry before, so this was a first. An intense one at that.

“..Hey..” His voice was soft and barely above a whisper. I kept my head low as I tried holding in my sobs as much as I could, but my chest was too tight to hold in any of it. My inner goddess slapped herself for not crying into yoongi’s arms, but just standing there and making the whole situation super awkward.

Yoongi raised his hand hesitantly, reaching for my shoulder. But before our bodies made contact, I took a step back. I didn’t need his pity..at least I thought I didn’t.

“This is stupid” my sobs had slowed down once I started talking.

“What?! What’s going on with you?” For some strange reason, him asking me that question made my blood boil.

“My friend won’t wake up, that’s going on with me!”

“No..that’s absolutely not it. Do you think I’m completely oblivious to your behavior traits? You clearly have been distancing yourself from me. Ignoring my calls and texts? You’re on edge around me and I can feel it. Is it something I did?”

Surprise, being caught off-guard or being speechless were not states I found myself often in. My personality wasn’t like that, I was the girl with the answer to everything. Even when in doubt, I’ll always manage to come up with something. I am a writer after all; if I don’t know the answer to something, I might as well make one up on spot.

But this time, yoongi got me. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said he was acting as though we were in a couple fight. But we weren’t a couple, so it just wouldn’t fit. Was I unconsciously being passive aggressive towards him? Was I going overboard because I was inarticulate and unaware of how to keep my emotions in check around him? My head hurt. We said no types of emotions attached, yet he was stood there, showing nothing but worry for me. And worry most definitely includes emotions. 

“You guys need to shut the hell up..” my head shot up as I heard the voice I had been longing to hear over the past three days.

“Rita!?” She gave me a weak smile as I practically jumped onto her bed.

Thank God she is doing fine!

“God, Rita!! You scared the crap out of me! I can’t leave you alone for 2 minutes and you’re already getting to the hospital?” My hands were tight around her neck as I gave her the tightest hug.

How long had she been awake for? How much of yoongi’s and I’s conversation did she hear?

“You really should go home and freshen up,” I sat upright, giving her a small smile as I nodded. 

“Now that I know you’ll be ok, I suppose I can go home for a bit. But I’ll be back as soon as possible!!” When I turned my head, Yoongi had disappeared. Where did he go?

“He went to get a doctor as soon as I woke up. You probably didn’t notice because you were too busy choking me with your hug.” I gave her shoulder a playful hit before standing up. 

“Now you go and get yourself clean and rested!”

I was glad to see her being kind of fine. What would I have done if things went left? Right now, I was just glad to see her be ok. And as soon as I left the room, a doctor rushed in to check up on Rita’s welfare. 

Yoongi stood outside the room, leaning against a wall as he stared into the distance. What was he thinking? Was he mad? Disappointed? Was he thinking about..me? 

"I’m dropping you off home.” It was not a question, but an imperative exclamation. I got goosebumps at the tiny bit of nostalgia that overtook my body. It reminded me of the night he asked me out, when it was storming like crazy and he insisted on dropping me off. 

He turned his head to look at me and the minute our eyes met, I was overwhelmed by remorseful sadness. I should be honest with him, he deserves to know the truth about how I feel, does he not? But the possibility of him not returning my feelings and simply wanting to end things between us was too big for me to take a risk. I was dancing on thin ice. 

The car ride home was silent. A billion things crowded my mind, I was unable to concentrate on simply one. The thought of going home and leaving yoongi made my heart twist. Why could I not just tell him how I felt? Or perhaps, flip it around; ask him how he feels about me. Ha. That’s it. That won’t make it too awkward, right?

“Did you hear anything I just said?” I blinked several times before turning to face Yoongi. I shook my head in embarrassment, as I lowered it. My fingers, which were placed in my lap, suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world.

Yoongi let out a small sigh as he stared at the road. 

He indeed is getting tired of me. 

“I said, I will be out of town for a bit starting from tomorrow night. There’s an important meeting in Amsterdam and I tried working around going to it, but they need me there as the CEO.” Oh. He actually found it necessary to inform me about this? That was not like him. And it confused me. 

I raised my head to look at him. “Why exactly are you telling me this?”

His head snapped to the side to look at me. His eyebrows were threatening to touch each other through the strong frown that took over his face. “I.. I just..”

A humorless chuckle left my lips. “Yeah, I mean. You never found it necessary before, did you? You’re not around often anyway. I live my life and you live yours until maybe one of us hits the other up and we end up hanging. Occasionally we fit in some amazing fuck sessions and afterward, you disappear.”

Yoongi’s mouth was agape. He was speechless, and I probably should have stopped talking looking at his facial expression. He was about to burst. 

But I continued, “It’s what we do, Yoongi. That’s our thing. But the whole ‘sorry I can’t see you for the next few days, I’m out of the country but I promise I’ll make it up to you when I’m back’ thing? Definitely not ours. Never has been.”

And with that being said, I looked out of the window to avoid his stare. I felt my chest twist but simultaneously appreciated the fact that I did actually just state the truth. We were not a couple, I was so unsure as to why he was suddenly trying to act like one..and I was hurt. Because this whole situation was not anyone’s fault. But I needed someone to blame, and if I felt the need to point fingers, I should have probably just stood in front of a mirror...

“Why are you being like this?” Yoongi’s voice was full of frustration and confusion. “You’re pushing me away, why? Can’t you see how hard I’m trying?”

“How hard you’re trying?! Trying what exactly?” He stayed silent. I closed my eyes in pain and embarrassment. Why did I have to keep giving him contra?

“Yoongi, I..I’m sorry I-”

“You should go get some rest, you’ve been on edge and I don’t blame you. Go freshen up and get some sleep.” He didn’t even look at me as he spoke, his view was fixated on his steering wheel. I hadn’t even noticed that we were stood I front of my house this entire time we had talked.

I opened the door and stepped out as I let out a heavy sigh. 

“Yoongi..”

“I’ll see you around.” and with that being said, I shut the door and let him drive off, letting the cold wind dry the tears rolling down my cheeks.

******

The next morning I didn’t want to wake up. Getting pulled out of my sleep meant facing reality. And my reality just happened to be the fact that I was caught up in a bit of a mess with a guy I was super into but was unsure how he felt about me.

I quickly grabbed my phone, hoping that he had a change of heart and decided to text me and tell me everything was ok. But nothing. Not a single message. What did I expect anyway? This was weird. On one hand, my common sense skills made my ego glow through the fact that I, in fact, did not say anything false. My declaration about where yoongi and I stood up until yesterday, was nothing but the truth.

But compassionate, kind me is pulling her hair out at my choice of tone and voice. How did that make him feel? What was he thinking? I should be asking him all these questions, not myself. But as soon as I’m in front of him, my tongue suddenly seems to have forgotten it’s function and purpose.

Was I in love with him?

I shook my head immediately, not daring to take that thought any further. It would simply hurt too much.

Gathering all my strength, I got out of bed and dragged myself into the bathroom. Clothes off, hair bubble on, and under the shower I go.

Yoongi was an unopened book. Or rather a sealed book? I could never properly tell what was going on with him. Right now, we were both doing mixed messages, and it drove me crazy not knowing what exactly was happening between us. I was conflicted. But maybe I was feeling just a little too comfortable in thinking that the idea of us being in this situation was the equivalent to proving Yoongi’s emotional investment in me. I mean let me set the picture; yoongi feeling no type of emotional attachments towards me would mean he could care less about me knowing whether or not he left the country, right? But he found it necessary to inform me. Which I concluded to be a spark of..hope. Maybe I was making this so much harder than it needed to be and at last, the thought of us being in an emotionally invested relationship was not so ridiculous anymore. Maybe, I was fist fighting my own emotions and thoughts.

[cateliot]

“gryffindor beginnings”

Fandom:  Harry Potter

Characters:  Minerva McGongall, Albus Dumbledore, Alastor Moody,  Armando Dippet, and various McGonagall household

Pairing:  Albus Dumbledore&Minerva McGonagall

Length:  3000 words

Warnings:  brief mentions of attacks on a young child

Summary:  A house call for an attacked Muggleborn girl with his colleagues reminds Albus of his late sister, but turns out to be the beginning of something more with a future, bright student; a little girl called Minerva. 

Albus Dumbledore stood beside his colleague Armando Dippet in front of a sizeable house. It was bricked with tall gothic windows and a black front door. The windows were closed on all of the panes and the door that had three locks.

The summer wind was blowing pleasantly around the Scottish cliffs. A warm ocean could be seen in the distance. The house seemed well enough, even if a bit cold.

Armando straightened his hat as they climbed the six steps to the door. The Headmaster wore his navy blue summer robes and his pointed black Wizarding hat. His hair was growing grayer and held such a deep contrast to Albus' lively auburn hair and growing beard.

Dumbledore had sportingly decided on his lilac colored robes, though the occasion was anything but happy. The robes had little silver swirls carefully embroidered on the hem of the sleeves and the bottom that touched the tops of his leather boots.

A third man straggled behind the other two. Alastor Moody was his name. A young strapping Auror with a mop top of bronze hair that stuck out every which day and black Auror robes.

"Come along, Moody, the Muggles won't bite."

The young man grumbled something under his breath but took the steps two at a time anyways. "The father's a lawyer," Armando said as they knocked on the door. "Her name is Minerva McGonagall. Seven other siblings and a step mother," Dippet continued to inform softly as they heard movement inside the door. "The attack happened three days ago down near the town. Apparently the girl was playing in the wildflowers at the bottom of the hill when she was attacked by three Muggle boys."

The door flung open to reveal a fair haired boy with muted brown eyes and broad shoulders. Albus cleared his throat. The boy could be no older than fourteen, though the baby fat in his neck and cheeks made him seem younger.

"Good afternoon," the boy said carefully, "can I help you?"

"Yes, we were wondering if we could speak with Murdoch McGonagall," Armando cut in with a polite smile, "we're here about one of his daughters…"

"You're here about Minerva," the boy deducted without preamble. They all confirmed this and then the boy escorted them into a large sitting room with stuffy furniture.

They made themselves at home as the boy, introduced as Nathaniel, went to go retrieve his parents. Albus could hear Alastor grumbling about the state of the room and the furniture in the corner.

Murdoch McGonagall was a stout man with a clean shaven face and fair chestnut hair like a few of his sons. He was slightly round around the middle, but had strong looking arms and legs. He had a sophisticated, expensive suit on and a gold pocket watch dangling from his coat pocket. His eyes swept over them judgingly and Albus had an immediate dislike for the man. His eyes hard large pupils are were almost dark to the point of being unable to distinguish them from the iris.

"Good afternoon gentlemen," he greeted stiffly walking into the room with dominance behind followed a young woman, much younger than McGonagall with a baby in her arms.

She was such a white-ish blonde Albus was immediately reminded of the Malfoy's. Her eyes were hazel and her nose a little too small and pointed for her face. She wore a pink dress and a frilly white apron. She was clearly Muggle as well.

They exchanged pleasantries rather frostily and then proceeded to sit down. "I thought we were done with your people. There were two here hovering after it happened."

Armando forced a smile onto his face. "Yes. They were from a Magical Catastrophe Team and Magical Reversal Squad in our Ministry of Magic. They were able to make sure the boys involved wouldn't remember what happened. It would threaten our Statue of Security," he said and began to explain everything about the Magical World, Hogwarts, and his daughter's abilities.

When he was finished the couple looked unimpressed. "That explains all the bloody nonsense, then," he declared moodily.

Albus felt Moody bristle behind him. "Nonsense, Mister McGonagall?" Albus questioned lightly. He had met other parents wary of their children's magic, but never this… hostile …against it.

"Yes, ruddy bizarre things. Instruments playing on their own, the lights flickering, stuff flying all around, and then the bloody cat!" he nearly shouted.

Armando and Albus shared a look at the now red in the face man and Albus forced himself to take a deep breath. "Mister McGonagall, Hogwarts will teach your daughter how to better control her magic. With age and discipline, the magic will become more refined and easier to control. These accidental bouts of magic will go away."

He shared a glance with his wife. "You can't get rid of it can you?"

"Of course not!" was Moody's outraged comment.

"No need to become cross, sir," the man snapped.

Albus decided to intercede. "Mister McGonagall where is your daughter? We would like to see her please."

The man's left eye twitched slightly.

"Why do you need to see Minerva?"

"We need to make sure she's cared for. Under our laws in agreement with your Prime Minister, we are allowed to make sure one of our own is cared for and on the road to getting healthy after an attack like this," Albus explained calmly.

"The doc left this mornin'," he grumbled watching his wife with a wary eye. "Said it'd all eventually health itself."

Moody rustled beside him. "Not that kind of health. The girl's mental health so accidents don't start blowing up every the time you make her scared or upset. You wouldn't want that to begin to attract the neighbors would ya?" he snapped.

"Keenan," McGonagall called. There was a rustle of movement in the doorway. Albus turned to see three children, all older than fifteen standing in the doorway.

"Yes Father?" the tallest one answered.

He looked like his other siblings with honey colored hair that was longer and crisp clean clothes ironed to perfection. His skin was a little tanner than the others and he seemed to be about twenty years of age.

"Go get your sister."

The boy disappeared without another word. "These are my other children," the woman spoke. "Keenan just left. Then that's Fiona, Nathanial, Grace, Howard, Geoffrey," she introduced as they all filed into the room. "and this is our youngest, Levi."

"Minerva is your seventh child?" Armando inquired with a meaningful look to Albus.

"Yes why?" the father snapped.

"No reason, my dear sir, just curious," Dippet quickly said, raising a hand in a calming manner.

"Mister Dumbledore?" The woman leaned forward and lowered her voice into a worried tone. Albus saw right through it. "This unnaturalness … it won't infect the other children, too will it?"

Albus took a moment to calm his outraged temper. "No Mrs. McGonagall. Your daughter was born with her gift. The other children would have showed signs of magical before now if they too were a witch or wizard."

Keenan cleared his throat loudly. All three men turned and felt their hearts jump. The little girl looked nothing like her family. Her hair was waist length and dark as night. Instead of the straight locks of her siblings, hers was formed in perfect ringlets. Her face was not tanned, but porcelain pale, clearly showing their line of Celtic heritage.

Her bone structure was dainty and fine. Her cheekbones were high. She had a little nose and small nude colored lips. Her eyes were beautifully powerful. They were the most emerald colored eyes he had ever seen. The iris was highlighted by thousands of tiny gold flecks that would shine her eyes gold when caught in the sun light. They were outlined by fine dark eyelashes.

The look in them, Albus decided, told him that she knew a lot that she let on. She was tiny for a girl almost six. She wore a dark green summer dress and was barefoot.

For a moment no one spoke.

"Hello Minerva," Albus said quietly, tentatively stepping forward and kneeling in front of the child. "My name is Albus." Her green eyes followed him closely, but she seemed unafraid of him.

"I will take a look at Miss McGonagall, Armando, if you will go over the laws with Mr. and Mrs. McGonagall," Dumbledore said, not taking eyes off the child.

Armando nodded and Moody clambered to his feet. The girl's eyes jumped up to watch his movements. Her face didn't show a reaction.

The oldest boy, Kenan, cleared his throat. "Come along Minerva. Let's show Mister Dumbledore your room."

The little girl's room was painted in shades of cream, reminding Albus about how colorful his bedroom as a child was, painting jumping shades of purples and greens and his favorite vivid yellow.

She had large windows looking out towards the ocean with a small window seat and a perfectly made bed. The bedspread had little embroidered cats on them. She had two bookshelves on either side of the window filled to the brim with novels and large picture books.

When they walked into the room, Minerva let go of her brother's hand and walked over to the bedspread. She picked up the tattered book lying on it and held it close to her chest. She then turned to watch him.

"What do you have there, dear heart?" he questioned, lightly, making sure to keep his tone happy and cheerful. The child did not need something else to add to her traumatic few days.

"She carries that thing everywhere. The lady down the road gave it to her a few years ago and she won't let the bookkeeper mend it," Kenan said dismissively, leaning on the closet door.

Albus leaned down to peer at the title. She relinquished her grip slightly and allowed him to read the title. He was shocked when it was one he recognized.

Hogwarts a History by Bathila Bagshot

"She can read?" Alastor spoke up. The girl's head snapped up to look at him. She frowned hard at him. Albus laughed delightedly.

"Sorry," he muttered, "I thought she was a bit wee to be readin' this kind of stuff."

"Alastor, come look at this," he said, beckoning the young man into the room. He gazed at Albus shocked. How would a six-year-old Muggleborn girl get her hands on something like this?

"Minerva have you ever seen this building?" he asked sitting on the window seat next to her. He pointed to the cover page.

She watched him for another moment and nodded once.

"Can you tell me where?"

His eyes locked with hers.

Tentatively, she raised a delicate left hand and made brief contact with Albus' forehead. His smile was brilliant. As she withdrew her hand, he took it delicately and kissed her fingertips.

It was the first time he had seen her smile all afternoon. He then turned her hand over in his large one and traced his hand over the ligature marks on her tiny wrists from where the boys had held her down.

Her eyes intensified as she watched the marks disappear, magically healing themselves. As he was about to remove his hand, Minerva grabbed his own wrist.

Concentrating lightly, she trailed her fingers over a paper cut he had gotten this morning and looked haughty as the cut healed over, just as her own injury had gone.

"Bloody hell," Kenan swore, taking a step back from his sister.

"Merlin's left saggy—" Alastor began, but Albus cut him off with a look. He gave her a warm smile and then looked up to her brother.

"Has she ever done anything else like this? Anything this focused and advanced?" he demanded. Kenan shook his head mutely.

"Not since he had her looked at," Kenan said shaking his head.

"Looked at?" Albus said sharply. "What do you mean looked at?" He and Alastor shared a brief look. Kenan shrugged and looked acutely uncomfortable with the sudden question.

"I don't know. They took her to some doctor on the Continent to make sure she wasn't possessed or something. That was after she managed to get the piano to play itself. When they came back, it seemed to go away for a little bit."

"When was that?"

"A few months ago I suppose."

"Was Minerva mute before she was attacked earlier this week?" he asked urgently. He moved off the seat to kneel in front of her looking up at her face.

"No, of course not, Minerva's bilingual in the Queen's English and Gaelic, why?"

Albus ignored him.

"Minerva, I need you listen very closely okay. Can you tell me what happened when you and your father went onto the Continent?"

Mutely, she shook her head.

Tentatively, he cupped her face and ran a calloused finger over her cheek, making sure he made eye contact. "Minerva, nothing else is going to happen, but I need to you tell me what happened, all right?"

She stared back for a moment without response.

"Mas e do thoil e?"

She leaned forward and without speaking put her hand on top of his. Seconds later he felt a powerful and jolting electric shock.

Fury tore through him.

"Is that what happened Minerva?"

There was unmasked fear in her eyes at his raised voice. He turned and marched from the room back down the stairs to where Armando and the rest of the McGonagalls were seat.

"Armando, Miss McGonagall will be coming with us, today," he said, hearing quiet and small footsteps behind him.

The older man raised a thick eyebrow. "She will?"

"Indeed. In fact, I believe that will be all we need for you at the moment, Mister McGonagall."

The man stood from the sofa with outrage outlining his face. "You cannot just march out of here with my daughter. What is the meaning of this?"

"I have determined that there needs to be some tests run on Miss McGonagall before it is deemed that this household is safe for her residence. You may allow one of your sons to escort her if you see fit, but she will becoming with us," Albus said harshly.

"I—you can't—"

"Da? It'll be fine, I'll go with her. Don't worry about it." Dumbledore turned to see Kenan step up behind his sister, but the loud voices made the baby begin to cry.

"There must be a compromise to be found," Dippet said carefully, putting a hand on Albus' arm.

Albus drew his wand and flicked his wrist, conjuring a thin silver chain with a small charm on the end. It was a decorative cat, one identical to the embroidered one on her bedspread with little tiny stones that reflected from the ceiling lights.

Mr. McGonagall made a strange choking sound, but Dumbledore ignored him.

He moved towards the little girl and extended the necklace towards her. Her tiny fingers wrapped around it tightly. "Anything you need, anything at all, you just take this and call for me, okay?"

The girl stared at his face for a long a long while before she nodding. Dumbledore gave her a smile and stood to turn back to the parents.

"If I hear a whisper or an inkling that you have harmed this child in any way, that you have hindered her magic, or have taken her out of Scotland to any sort of psychologist, then I will hunt you down. Do not test me on this."

Many years later, Albus sat behind the Staff Table at the yearly Welcome Feast. He wore his navy robes with the little sparkling silver stars, a favorite of his.

His good friend and colleague was perched next to him. "Heard there aren't many good ones in this year's batch," Galatea Merrythought said casually, taking a sip of wine as Slughorn brought in the new First Years.

The hub of the other student was at a dull roar as they sized up the rest of the new meat.

"A friend from the Ministry said there weren't many bouts of accidental magic outbreaks recently. I was hoping for a Hatstall or the next Albus Dumbledore this time. It's been so quiet for a while. I'm ready for some excitement," she said with a laugh and Albus chuckled.

"I believe that's the Auror in your talking, old friend," he said with a smile. As the typical nervous eleven years filed in towards the stage, Albus caught sight of her.

She had grown into herself since the last time he had seen her. Her beautiful curls were drawn away from her face with a pretty little clip and she wore her new Hogwarts uniform. She was still littler than her peers, but she was no longer so small a gust of wind could seeming knock her over. The small cat necklace sat on her collarbone, catching the light from the Great Hall's candles.

What made Albus more reassured was the renewed way she seemed to carry herself. No more was she shying away from loud noises or eye contact. Her dark green eyes were shining intelligently and sparkling with mystery.

He had of course gone back to the house to check on her. The little girl had weighed heavily on his mind and his heart since that day and he made it a habit to go and check on her even once in a while, though she never knew it.

He hadn't been back to the house in quite a while and in the year or so, she had grown innumerable. As he was taking stock of her, her eyes found his face. Recognition was immediate, he noticed, and she searched for a similar hello in his face.

He gave her a smile, blue eyes twinkling, and she returned it immediately, a glow spreading over her pale skin and lightening her eyes.

A blonde headed boy near her was talking to her and touched her arm, lightly. She hesitantly turned to him, taking her gaze off Albus finally.

"Oh I have a feeling that they may surprise us after all, Galatea," Albus remarked, turning to watch Minerva approach the stage and sitting down on the stool, preparing to be sorted.

He was unashamed to say he clapped the loudest when she was proclaimed "Gryffindor!”