#good excuse to practice my rendering and i think this turned out nice for being (mostly) freehanded

[arielluva]

we had to take a self portrait photo of ourselves for my art class and im kinda obsessed with mine so i drew it….

[mercy-burning]

She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder. 

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames. 

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor.  From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this? 

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin. 

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him  with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter��how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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[kiyosamu]

a lucky encounter~

———♡———

pairing: issei matsukawa x female reader

genre: fluff, first date, one shot // 3.7k words

synopsis: when a fellow third year at fukurodani won’t leave you alone, you desperately try to find an excuse not to go to prom with him. funny enough, your perfect excuse walks by in the shape of a certain 6’2 volleyball player.

———♡———

“come on, i know you’re not going with anyone.” a man towering over you pressed his palm to your locker, caging you in and rendering you unable to make a quick escape. “go to prom with me.”

the school volleyball team walked by and gave you strange glances as they headed toward the gym. you silently pleaded for any of them to save you, but you’d never even spoken to any of them.

“come on, washio. we need to warm up.” the captain, bokuto, gave him a hard smack between his shoulders and the dark haired man flinched. he nodded at bokuto and turned back to you as the team went into the gym.

you knew you just needed to speak up and say no.

why was it so hard to do that?

“i am, actually, i uh- i have a boyfriend.” you said quietly.

“really? who?” washio gave you an amused grin, clearly not believing a single word you were saying.

you crossed your arms, trying to act as natural as possible. “he goes to a different school.”

“really.” he snorted, “what school?”

“uh-“ you paused, glancing around and could’ve sworn a lightbulb appeared over your head when you realized the volleyball team was hosting a game from another school. tall boys in teal and white uniforms walked past the two of you, not paying attention to your situation.

you nodded at them. “he goes to aoba johsai.”

“aoba johsai.” he smirked, “kinda far from here, isn’t it? this is our first time ever playing them.”

you shrugged. to be honest, you didn’t even know where the school was.

“huh.” he smiled, “well who is it? he must be on the volleyball team since you’re here, right?”

you were actually at school late because you needed private tutoring for college entrance exams. but he didn’t need to know that.

“yeah, he is,” you were getting frustrated with washio’s persistence and just wanted him to go away. it was obvious he didn’t believe you, though, and wasn’t going to stop.

as you looked away from him, a tall volleyball player from aoba johsai slowly walked down the hallway. you wondered why he’d taken longer than the rest of his team, but you took it as a sign. now or never.

“he’s right there!” you smiled, ducking under his arm to run to the taller boy. you gripped onto his arm and he practically jumped away, eyes wide with surprise when he did a double take between you and washio.

“wh-“ he opened his mouth to ask what was going on before you quickly interrupted him.

“i missed you, babe!” you smiled, standing on your tiptoes to hug him. he awkwardly returned the gesture which gave you the opportunity to whisper in his ear.

“please pretend to be my boyfriend,” you hissed, “he’s a creep and won’t leave me alone.”

you pulled away with a smile, turning to look back at washio who was completely dumbfounded.

“i missed you more.” he smiled, leaning down to give you a kiss on the forehead. he put his arm around your waist and guided you towards the gym, still speaking loud enough so washio could hear. “find a good seat, i wanna hear you cheer for me.”

“of course!” you giggled, snuggling into him. washio scoffed, walking past the two of you before heading over to the side of the gym with fukurodani’s players.

you immediately pulled away from the man. he looked down at you with a playful smirk.

“i’m so sorry, thank you so much-“ you began.

“it’s no problem.” he grinned, “go sit down. i’m already late and my captain can be a real ass.”

“oh, i don’t have-“

“you’re not gonna stay and cheer for me?” he gave you a fake pout and you laughed, nodding along to his request.

“sorry, of course i will. it’s the least i could do.”

“cool! the guys are gonna be really jealous.” he grabbed your hand and walked into the gym with you. all eyes were immediately on the two of you, washio whispering to his teammates and aoba johsai’s team staring in disbelief.

“alright, i gotta go.” he gave you a thumbs up.

“okay- wait, who am i even cheering for?” you looked lost as the only time you were ever in the gymnasium was for p.e.

“matsukawa.” he smirked, leaning in closer to you, “but if you wanna make it real believable, you can cheer for issei.”

“oh, okay then.” you smiled. he nodded towards the bleachers on the aoba johsai side of the gym.

“see ya!” he waved as he jogged towards his team.

“…bye?” you said to yourself. his teammates flooded around him in a huddle, some of them looking up at you and you were suddenly aware of how you were the center of attention. might as well get a good seat.

———♡———

walking up the bleachers on their side felt like you were at a different school. their fans and colleagues completely filled the stands. even more than your own school, and they were having the game at fukurodani.

you sat down in one of the only empty spots and pulled out your phone. it was 6pm. you were tired, and to be honest, had absolutely no idea how long volleyball games even were.

“hey, can i ask you something?” a blonde girl sitting on the bench behind you poked you on the shoulder.

“yeah, sure.” you looked back at her curiously.

she leaned in, looking back and forth before speaking quietly to you.

“are you dating matsukawa?”

who? …oh!

you let out a nervous laugh, waving your hand dismissively. “oh i wouldn’t call it that! i-“

“oh my god, look how red you are!” she squealed, pulling on the sleeve of the girl next to her. “they’re totally dating!”

“no way!” the other girl shrieked. “well, i’m sure we’ll hang out soon since i’m with oikawa.”

“he can’t be your boyfriend if he never officially asked you out.” the first girl muttered, turning to you. “i’m yuki, by the way.”

“well he is, okay! he’s just… shy.” she pouted and looked back at you. “i’m sakura.”

you introduced yourself to them, pausing before asking “which one’s oikawa?” a bit too loudly.

“what?” they both looked at you in disbelief.

“only, like, the most popular guy in school.” sakura blinked. “number 1. the captain, setter for their team. has matsukawa not introduced you to him? they’re, like, best friends.”

“oh, uh- not yet-“

“shh! it’s starting. we can’t interrupt his serves!”

the game began and you found yourself enjoying it as the night continued. you quickly leaned seijoh’s cheers, joining in with them to cheer for each of the players when the time came.

you made sure to cheer extra loud for matsukawa, who noticed and gave you a thumbs up.

when the game ended, aoba johsai had won. you noticed your school’s team looking visibly defeated. bokuto, who was the only one you knew by name other than washio, looked like he wanted to cry.

they shook hands and parted ways.

“come on!” sakura grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the stairs. “let’s go see the guys!”

“oh, we really don’t have-“

“come on, we can congratulate them on their win.” yuki smiled. you nervously went along with them, unsure of how to act once you got down there.

“congratulations on your win, boys!” the two girls called in unison near the locker room doors. you nervously stood there with your arms crossed as 4 of the players looked over to you.

“aw, is your girlfriend shy, mattsun?” oikawa sauntered over to you, tilting your head up by your chin and smiling at you. you were taken back for a minute, silently wondering if he was secretly an idol or an actor. his movie star looks were unexpected.

sakura immediately glared at the two of you. you nervously stepped back, only to feel his arm around your waist. “i don’t believe for a second that he pulled someone as pretty as you.” he whispered.

“get off of her, you freak.” a brute looking guy approached the two of you. he grabbed on to the back of oikawa’s jersey, pulling him off and away from you completely.

“aw, iwa-chan, always so noble.” oikawa teased.

“uh huh.” he muttered, turning to look at you. “nice to meet you. i’m hajime iwaizumi.”

“hi!” you smiled. you genuinely had no idea what was happening. this was going to be awkward to explain later.

“shouldn’t you be talking to someone who’s actually interested in you?” matsukawa cooed, walking up to you and putting an arm around your shoulder. he was the tallest player and his height was almost intimidating.

“what’s the fun if there’s no chase?” oikawa smirked. yuki whispered something to sakura and she finally spoke up.

“hi, toru.” she smiled.

“hm?” oikawa hadn’t even noticed the girls standing next to you. sakura looked up at him with bright eyes full of hope and was immediately shut down.

“oh, hi.” he gave a fake smile, “thanks for coming to the game. see ya later!” he waved them off and headed into the locker room, pulling iwaizumi by the wrist and muttering something in his ear as they walked side by side.

yuki and sakura said their goodbyes, clearly wanting to vacate as soon as possible. this left you and matsukawa standing alone at the gym entrance.

“so, wanna get something to eat?” he suggested.

“oh, uh, you don’t have to do that.” you smiled, “you’ve done enough. really.”

he took his arm off of your shoulder and leaned back against the wall. “i’m not asking because i feel obligated. i think you’re cool and i want to get to know you.”

your heart fluttered at his words. the way he spoke was both dominant and respectful. the latter being a trait you had yet to experience with a man.

“on second thought, sure.” you nodded. why not? you had nothing to lose at this point.

“sweet.” he grinned, “do you have a curfew?”

“not anymore. now that i’m over 18 my parents kind of just want me to fend for myself at this point.” you laughed.

“all right then. let me take a quick shower and change and we can go. do you mind waiting?” he swung his backpack over his shoulder. “i’ll be, like, 10 minutes tops.”

“oh, yeah, go for it. i have some stuff to put in my locker so i’ll meet you back here?”

“sounds good!” matsukawa excitedly jogged off to the locker room and you stood there unable to really process your evening. in a good way, though. you were excited.

for the first time in a really long time.

———♡———

“where are we going, anyway?” you asked, leaning back in the passenger seat of his car. you’d been driving for almost 45 minutes now, mindlessly chatting about yourselves and singing along to the music playing through the speakers.

“it’s kinda like a diner. lots of food choices. good milkshakes.” he leaned his left arm on the driver door with one hand on the steering wheel and you couldn’t help but admire this man who was only a stranger to you a few short hours ago.

matsukawa glanced over at you as you spaced out, letting out a small chuckle. “is that cool?”

“yeah, yeah, that sounds great.” you nodded, feeling your face get hot, “sorry, i was just thinking about something.”

“let’s be honest,” matsukawa smirked, “you were checking out these guns, weren’t you?” he winked and flexed his bicep at you and you immediately turned away.

“no! i-“

“i’m just kidding,” he snorted, “i don’t think i’d be able to live with myself if i said something like that seriously.” he leaned over, patting your knee reassuringly and placed his hand back on the steering wheel.

“by the way, if you get uncomfortable or wanna bail, i totally get it. just let me know and i’ll take you home. or even pay for a taxi to get you back.” his tone was light but you could tell he meant his words, “i’m sure it’s not a common occurrence for you to hang out with some random guy from another town so i don’t want to do anything to make you feel unsafe.”

“i’m fine, matsukawa, really.” you smiled, “where is this coming from?”

“i have a little sister and have seen how shitty and weird other guys can be. not to mention the way some of my friends act.” he rolled his eyes, “i just don’t want to be that guy.”

“i get it. i appreciate your thoughtfulness.” you noticed him pulling into a small parking lot with a cute little diner, just like he’d said.

“we’re here. don’t get out yet, okay?” he shut his car off and quickly got out. you looked around, unsure of why he wanted you to wait.

your door opened and matsukawa offered his hand to you to help you out. you graciously accepted, already feeling like you were falling prematurely out of pure appreciation for his manners.

“let’s go eat!” he said happily, putting his arm around your shoulder and leaning down to talk quietly your ear. “by the way… you can call me issei.”

———♡———

“that was good, right? did you like it?” matsukawa paid for your dinners (he insisted on paying for both), and the two of you walked back out to his car.

“it was. thank you so much.” you couldn’t lose the massive smile on your face. it felt too good to be true. he was sweet, cute, funny, and a total gentleman.

“my pleasure. i hope we can do that again.” his smile was as big as yours and you weren’t ready for the night to end yet.

“me too, i’d love to-“

you were interrupted by his phone ringing, he checked who it was, and apologetically told you it’d only be a second.

“hello? yeah, uh, i’m kinda busy tonight, really? shit, you have to go in? in 10 minutes?” he sighed, “it’d be nice if you let me know ahead of time. i’m with a friend. i can’t just bring her over… wait, i can? i- yes it’s a girl! jeez. have a good night at work.” he hung up and groaned.

“i have to go home, my mom’s gotta go into work and my sister is gonna be home alone.” he ran his hand through his hair, “i’m so sorry, that’s so lame of me. you’re totally welcome to come over, but i understand if not and i can pay for a taxi-“

“i’d love to come over.” you said as you leaned back in the front seat. he turned towards you with wide eyes.

“no way? really?” he couldn’t hide his excitement.

“sure, why not? it’s a weekend and i’m having a lot of fun. only if you’re comfortable with me coming over, though.”

“oh, yeah! of course!” he started his car, letting out a sigh of relief. “to be honest, i’m having a great time and wasn’t ready for the night to end yet. i was hoping you’d want to come over. we can watch a movie or something?” issei was very animated when he talked, and as he was speaking he subconsciously rested his hand on your knee while he drove.

“sure that sounds great.” you placed your hand on top of his and relaxed in your chair. “i was feeling the same way.”

matsukawa looked at you and made a satisfied hum, resisting the urge to do a double take at the beautiful girl who’d been taking his breath away since he laid eyes on her.

———♡———

matsukawa had made sure his sister was sleeping and the two of you went into his bedroom to watch a movie. his bedroom was big, it was the master bedroom of the house with an ensuite and everything.

he’d made an entire blanket fort on his bedroom floor. comfy pillows all over and even made popcorn.

“my mom will be home at like 3 or 4 am,” he yawned, laying down on his stomach next to you. he groaned as he stretched his body out before continuing, “so i can take you home after if you want.”

“i’m not in a rush. are you sore?” you glanced over and he nodded.

“always get really sore after a good game. we played well but man it takes its toll.” he sighed, “i guess that’s the price to pay.”

“you just need a good massage.” you smiled, feeling a bit daring. the late night and building feelings were making you feel… impulsive.

“want me to give you one?”

he turned back to look at you. “one what? a massage? hell yeah! i mean, if you want.” he tried to tone down his excitement.

you giggled at his reaction and straddled his lower back, sitting down on him.

“okay, just relax.”

you started at his neck and worked your way down his shoulders, you rubbed into his muscles carefully and he made small noises to let you know how good it felt.

“you were so tense.” you murmured, leaning in close to him.

“mmh- well, i’m definitely not anymore.” he let out a weak laugh, sighing and resting his head on the pillow. “feels so good.”

“glad i could help.” you said quietly, moving your hands under his shirt to rub his back directly on his skin. his skin was warm, very soft and you could tell how toned his back was just from touching it.

you finished giving him a massage and he’d pretty much turned into a puddle of bliss. the stress on his body gone in just a few minutes and it was such a relief.

“thank you,” he smiled. you laid down on your stomach next to him, the two of you turning your heads to face each other.

“my pleasure.” you smiled back.

matsukawa let out a happy hum, studying your face carefully before resting his palm on your cheek.

“i just wanted to thank you for choosing me.” he said softly, “you could’ve picked any of the idiots on my team to save you from that dude and somehow ended up with me. and now here we are after spending the entire evening together.”

you nodded into his palm, resting your hand on top of his.

“i’m happy it was you who happened to be there. the right person, in the right place, at the right time.”

“maybe we should just date for real.” he said casually. your eyes widened at his boldness. you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t hoped he’d say something like that, but it was still something that made your heart race hearing it out loud.

you softened your gaze and smiled at the man in front of you. the kind, respectful man that you just wanted to spend more time with.

“i’d be cool with that.” you replied quietly.

“yeah?” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “let’s do it, then.”

you gazed into each other’s eyes and you leaned in closer to him.

“a gentleman isn’t supposed to kiss on the first date.” he whispered playfully, his lips barely an inch away from yours.

you looked into his eyes with an equally playful smirk. “that’s too bad. i’ve been hoping you would all night.”

“hmm,” issei pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours. his hand travelled down your side and pulled you against his chest. “i suppose i can make an exception.”

you giggled against his lips, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair. “well aren’t i lucky, then?”

“hah,” matsukawa pulled away for a second, silently appreciating your beauty once again. he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours before giving you another soft kiss. “and here i was thinking that same thing… ever since i laid eyes on you.”

[rocorambles]

Mending the Cracks

Pairing: Daishou x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Choking, Spitting, DDLG, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation

Summary: Daishuo prides himself on his cool and collected facade, his ability to not let anyone see past his polite and put together appearances unless he wishes them to. But Kuroo has always had a special talent for getting under his skin and now it’s your turn to help mend the cracks the messy haired captain has accidentally created.  

OR

Roco once again turns a request that should have been just a rough jealous angry spicy PWP fic into a whole angst/fluff/comfort fic WITH rough jealous angry spice~

Your heart sinks as the referee blows the whistle signifying the end of the game, pride and disappointment swirling in a confusing mixture inside of you as you rush to your feet, already making your way out of the stands and towards the locker rooms. It had been a good game, a great game, one Nohebi should be proud of regardless of the end result, that Daishou should be proud of. Yet, you know that’s the farthest thing from what any of the boys are thinking of as they dejectedly shake hands with Nekoma, another chance of Nationals taken right from underneath their noses, Daishou’s last chance of Nationals gone, just like that. 

You should be paying more attention to your surroundings, especially in such a crowded building with masses of spectators and athletes, but you’re too focused on rushing to your boyfriend as fast as you can, barely dodging the crowds and receiving more than a few dirty looks from people you accidentally bump into in your haste. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is comforting your lover, being there for him and reminding him that he’s still the most amazing person you know regardless of how one game went. And determinedly you quickly hook around the corner of the hall, only to yelp when you crash into something firm, the impact making you stagger back. 

Mortification rushes through you once your body steadies itself and you fumble for words, stuttering out apologies when you realize what, or more specifically who, you’ve run into, practically diving to pick up the knee pads the other has dropped because of your carelessness. You can barely bring yourself to look up at the other person’s face, already cringing at the look of irritation you know you’ll receive (and frankly, deserve). But it’s the polite thing to do and your eyes slowly travel up and up a long, lean frame, only to blink in surprise when you see the amused smile on a handsome cat-like face as he plucks his knee pads from your hands. 

He looks...familiar and you take a second to appraise him, eyes widening in shock when you recognize the Nekoma uniform and, emboldened by his lack of annoyance, you shyly smile, politely congratulate him on his team’s win and earning their ticket to Nationals. 

You’re secretly glad your boyfriend is nowhere in sight, already knowing how childishly competitive he can get, especially where Nekoma is concerned. And you know he’d throw a fit if he saw you “consorting with the enemy”. But it’s the least you can do after running the poor guy over. Plus, Daishou really only has an issue with one person on the team and what are the chances that this athlete is…

“Oya? It’s not everyday someone decides to literally run me over. Nice to meet you. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.” 

Crap. 

You pray to anyone who’s listening that Daishou doesn’t walk in on this scene, can only imagine how bad it would look to be caught chatting with Kuroo Tetsurou of all people only minutes after Nekoma had swiped Nohebi’s chances of Nationals away from them, even before you’ve talked to your own boyfriend. 

But when it rains it pours and unknown to you, narrowed eyes scowl at the both of you from down the hallway. 

If Daishou’s honest, the outcome of the match isn’t surprising. Nekoma has always been a stronger team than Nohebi, as aggravating as it is to admit. But it doesn’t make the loss any easier and he knows he’s just looking for a reason to pick a fight when annoyance curls inside of him at how quietly and respectfully Kuroo shakes his hand, not a hint of the other’s usual provoking or teasing after the match is over. He knows it’s out of sportsmanship, but he can’t help but believe he sees his own self-pity reflected in those feline eyes. And he storms out before he accidentally makes a scene, mustering every last bit of his snake-like charm to plaster a smile on his face and force out some pleasantries and kind words to his team, all the while wanting nothing more than to rush into your arms and lock himself away as he comes to terms with his dreams being dashed. 

So imagine the stomach sinking shock he feels as he rounds the corner in his search of you, only to stare in disbelief as you smile up at literally the only person in this entire building who he’d rather you not ever meet, the person who led the team that had just crushed his team’s hopes, seemingly in no hurry to excuse yourself. 

Shock makes way for hot fiery fury fueled by jealousy and insecurity and before he can fully register what he’s doing, he’s storming towards you, startling both of you when he suddenly cuts in between, rigid and stiff with hostility and anger as he shoves his face mere inches away from Kuroo’s surprised one. 

It’s startling to say the least to have his view of you suddenly replaced by a larger figure and Kuroo instinctively steps back, uncertainty filling him when he sees heavy shadows of pure unadulterated ill-intent in Daishou’s eyes.

Interactions with the Nohebi captain are always playful, even if the stinging words aren’t always exactly lighthearted and Kuroo enjoys their bantering and rivalry underscored by respect for each other that both captains would die before admitting to. But this...this is different and Kuroo can’t help but think that somehow they’ve accidentally crossed the line to a point of no return, that something terrible is on the verge of happening, jaw instinctively tightening and fists clenching in self-defense.  

“Winning wasn’t enough for you, so now you’re trying to rub more salt in my wounds by hitting on my girl?” 

Oh. OH. 

Kuroo KNEW you looked familiar, unsure where to place you, but it all makes sense as his brain quickly puts the pieces together, frantically working under pressure as the snake in front of him rattles his tail and hisses. You’re the new girlfriend he’s seen in all of Daishou’s social media posts recently. And suddenly it’s his turn to fumble over words as he tries to calm the furious athlete in front of him, desperately trying to find a way to de escalate the situation without having to resort to anything physical, trying to reassure the other captain that it’s not what it looks like, wincing at how cliche that phrase sounds. 

You’re frozen as you watch the taller man continue stammering explanations, stunned by the feral aura radiating from your boyfriend, unsure what’s the best way to approach the situation without exacerbating the issue. But when you see Daishou take a step forward, your hands fly to the back of his jersey, harshly tugging at the fabric in a bid to drag him away from Kuroo, to keep him from doing something stupid that he’d regret. 

You wonder if you did the right thing as you cower when he whirls around to face you, pinning you down with a practically murderous gaze. But then you see it, underneath the blazing fires of his eyes, the vulnerable insecurities he keeps so deeply hidden within him, that he’d shared about to you in full confidence, raring back to life and tearing him up inside. 

Am I not good enough?

The question is unspoken, but you hear it clear as day and you want to scream at him, touch him, anything to wipe away the torment in his gaze. No, you're more than good enough. So much more. And despite the way you feel like a tiny mouse about to be swallowed whole, you easily let him drag you away, mindlessly following him and lacing your fingers with his bone crushing grip. 

It's silent as you scramble to keep up with his determined pace, clutching at his arm and pressing against his side in quiet obedient comfort, a reminder that you're with him every step of the way, out of your own desire and love for him. And although his countenance remains stony, your heart swells when he instinctively leans into your touch, the dark fog around him lightening just a bit. 

Not a word is said even as he locks his bedroom door behind the two of you, even as he pulls you onto his bed, wrapping his body tightly around you not unlike the creature he's nicknamed after. 

And you let him, ignoring the discomfort you feel as he constricts your body too tightly to be comforting, murmuring how amazing he was on the court, what a respected captain he is, how you know there's still so many opportunities for him in life, volleyball, anything he wants even if Nationals wasn't his fate. 

But when he remains silent, you nervously take a deep breath, knowing it's time to address the elephant in the room. 

"Suguru, you know I love you, right? I only have eyes for you and no one else. Kuroo-"

You squeal in surprise when you're suddenly pinned to the bed by a toned body, gasping when a hand wraps around your throat rendering you silent, whimpering at the venomous look staring down at you. 

"Don't say his fucking name, especially when you're in bed with me." 

But you need to explain! Need to clear the air! And you desperately claw at his hand digging into your neck, struggling to force words out, only to moan when lips crash down on yours, a tongue slithering inside of your mouth and ravishing you, fangs harshly nipping at your lips in a warning to remain silent and pliant. 

You pant for breath when he finally pulls away, trying to reach up and cradle his face in your hands, keep him still as you explain everything to him. But your efforts are futile and you moan when he promptly spits in your mouth the second you try to open your mouth to speak, body instinctively grinding against his when the hand on your throat tightens once again, mind busy trying to obediently keep his saliva in your mouth while simultaneously breathing through your constricted airway. 

"Not a single word from you unless it's about me and how good I'm making you feel, understood? Swallow." 

Daishou trained you well and you're quick to gulp down the pooled liquid in your mouth, baring your neck in submission as his lips and teeth possessively mark the expanse of your neck, sucking and biting marks you know you'll be proudly wearing for days afterwards, traveling down and down as your clothes are pulled off and haphazardly thrown away. 

The room fills with breathy moans and sighs as you let him have you, let him mark every inch of you, relishing in the slight twinges of pain you feel when teeth sink in too deep, when lips suck too hard all over your collarbones, the valley between your breasts, your rib cage. But you wail when he deems you sufficiently marked, a hot wet mouth wrapping around one of your nipples, fingers harshly twisting and pulling the other. 

"DADDY!"

Pride soars inside of Daishou at the nickname, a name he knows only he’s lucky enough to hear from your lips, and he pulls away from your aroused bud just long enough to spit out a few choice words. 

“That’s right, baby girl. I’m your daddy. I’m the one who takes care of you. I’m the one who makes you feel good. So why the fuck did daddy find his precious girl chatting it up with some other man like a dirty little slut? Daddy not good enough for you anymore?”

Your head swirls from the degrading words, thighs clenching at hearing his endearing terms for you, but tears pricking at your eyes when you hear the trickle of doubt that seeps into his last question. Shame floods through you as you frantically shake your head, salty droplets leaking from your eyes as you begin to sob, desperately clutching Daishou’s sides and trying to pull him closer to you. 

“No, Daddy! Never! Only you! You’re my only daddy. I love you. I’m sorry! I’m your good girl. Please let me show you that I’m your good girl?” 

Daishou chuckles, warm fondness beginning to take off the frostiest edges of his insecurities as he watches you flail and fight against his hold in your pursuit of making him feel good, your greedy fingers trying to drag him closer to you, your hips grinding and humping his hardening cock like a bitch in heat as you babble and beg to ride him, suck him off, help him cum. 

It’s heartwarming in the most depraved way how loyal and dedicated you are to him, how easily you’ll let yourself fall into debauchery just to please him. And in his heart of hearts, he knows deep down that you’d never betray him, that you love him just as much as he loves you. But the heart and the mind aren’t always on the same page and he can’t help the way his eyes narrow and his stomach twists uncomfortably when he replays the scene of Kuroo and you in the hall, even though he knows the chance of you being swept away so easily by someone else is close to null, even though he knows Kuroo is a decent enough man to back off once he knows you’re a taken woman. 

“Settle down, little one. I know you’re a desperate slut for daddy, but today you’re going to behave, okay? You’re going to lay there, let daddy thoroughly remind you who you belong to, and thank me for it, understand?” 

It’s a rhetorical question and you barely have time to nod your head before Daishou’s blunt cock head is pressing against your already drenched entrance. You claw at the bedsheets when he suddenly slams in balls deep inside of you, your sopping wet folds easily making way for his cock, and your toes curl at the abrupt stretch, eyes already shamelessly rolling to the back of your head from the sensation of finally being stuffed full. 

“Daddy, so good, daddy, daddy, daddy” becomes your mantra, barely discernible amidst your wanton moans as he hardly gives you time to adjust before he’s starting up a brutal pace, hips slamming into yours, balls slapping your ass with every thrust. It’s embarrassing how close to the edge you already are, how you nearly came just from his cock stretching you full, but you can’t help it when Daishou knows your body even better than you, when your pussy is practically molded just for him, trained to be his perfect cock sleeve and you wail as you fall to pieces around his cock, body convulsing and mind shattering from the overwhelming pleasure. 

But he doesn’t let up, continuing his relentless onslaught, smirking down at how broken you already look, drool and tears staining your wrecked face, incoherent babbling and wails slipping past your lips as overstimulation begins to wash over you, body now shaking uncontrollably as pain and pleasure swirl inside of you. 

“That’s it, baby girl. You’re doing so well. Keep on taking it. Fucking take my cock! This is what you were made for. Being daddy’s cock slave that he fucks silly. Going to use you until you can’t even think about anyone or anything else other than daddy’s cock.” 

There’s nowhere else he’d rather be than in between your legs and he swears he could die happy like this, cock buried deep within your tight pussy, would happily live the rest of his life bottomed out inside of you if he had the chance. But he’s only human after all and he can feel his end approaching, balls tightening and pace becoming wild and erratic when he hungrily devours the sight of your lewd state as you dopily smile, brokenly chanting “I’m daddy’s cock slave”, slurring thank yous over and over again. His hand reaches down to furiously rub your clit and all it takes is your second fall from grace, the sensation of your tight walls clamping and clenching around his cock, milking him of all his cum, to empty his balls inside of you. 

It’s silent again save for both your shaky breaths as you come down from your respective highs and Daishou carefully slumps down to the side of you, pulling you to also lay on your side, wrapping you in his arms as your lower bodies remain connected, hooking his chin on top of your head and letting you burrow into his neck and cuddle up beside him. 

But despite all his earlier bravado, you can feel his scales shift and skin shed as he reveals his softer, more vulnerable side, can feel him slump and his defenses crumble in the way he clings onto you, and you wriggle out of your comfortable position, ignoring the throbbing between your legs and all over you body as you determinedly reposition yourself until the two of you are face to face, forehead and noses pressed against each other. 

“Suguru, I love you. I love you so much. You’ll always be more than enough for me.”

You smile at the love and hope you see reciprocated back at you in your lover’s eyes, giggling when it’s quickly replaced by panic and embarrassment as he holds you at arms length, staring in dismay at all the punishing marks he had left all over your body before frantically nearly crushing you as he pulls you tightly back towards him, apologies spilling from his mouth for being so rough, a stupid stereotypically jealous boyfriend. And you roll your eyes as he suddenly starts raving and ranting about how this is somehow all Kuroo’s fault, shutting him up with a forceful kiss of your own, a playful smirk sitting on your face. 

“You told me not to mention his name and yet here you are, going on and on about him right after we’ve had sex. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re a little more interested in him than two rival captains should be. Should I be the jealous one?”

You bite back a laugh at the look of pure disgust on Daishou’s face as he stares agape at you, jaw slack and open wide in disbelief at your blasphemous lies, using whatever latent talent you have as an actor to tap a finger to your lips in a parody of an inquisitive thoughtful gesture. 

“I’m pretty open minded, Suguru. We can invite him for a threesome if you want. Ooh! Who do you think would top? Kuroo? You’d look so pretty on bottom for once, don’t you think? Or would you prefer to shut him up-”

You squeal in laughter and surprise when you’re suddenly being suffocated and crushed by a heavy weight on top of you, Daishou flipping the two of you over and laying his whole weight on top of you, shoving your face into his chest and grunting at you to shut up as he nuzzles his face into the top of your head and closes his eyes to rest, dragging you to an exhausted slumber with him as his breathing even outs and lulls your own heavy eyelids into shutting. 

Somewhere else in Tokyo Kuroo sneezes out of the blue, curiously wondering if someone is talking about him.

[bubblegumbeech]

Stumbling in your Sleep

Phic Phight prompt fill for @the-only-wife

It was the ticking sound that woke him.

Danny yawned, blinking sleep out of his eyes and stretching out his sore muscles. Looking around only served to confuse him though. He wasn’t in his room anymore, and he wasn’t downstairs either (which sometimes happened with his body’s penchant to fall through not only his bed, but the floor). He was in a large, heavily shadowed room that was on the edge of familiar, and it was taking him a moment to place it in his sleep fogged mind.

“It’s not healthy to fixate on what could have been,” came a deep, familiar voice from behind him.

Startled, Danny spun around to see Clockwork floating a few feet away. He was in his eldest form, long knitted beard and all, and was gazing past Danny towards something further in the room.

Following that gaze, Danny saw what exactly Clockwork had been talking about and flinched, flying quickly away from it and over towards the Ancient.  

It was a Thermos, horridly familiar and just- sitting there on a pillow as if for display.

“How did I get here?” Danny asked, putting Clockwork between himself and that thing .

Clockwork hummed, stroking his beard a moment before slowly answering, “I suppose, the likely answer is that you were having a nightmare.” He lowered a hand to Danny’s shoulder and led him out of the room and back into a more familiar part of the clock tower. “Let’s get you some tea before I send you home, it might calm your nerves.”

Danny followed, eager for distance, before asking, “the likely answer? Does that mean you don’t know?”

“Despite what you and certain others seem to think, I am neither omniscient nor a mind reader, I cannot see into your dreams,” Clockwork said and Danny chuckled softly. “Besides, Nocturn would likely be unappreciative if I was interfering in his domain.”

“You know Nocturn?” Danny asked stopping and tugging lightly on Clockwork’s cloak so that he’d stop as well.

He did, lifting one of his eyebrows and answering with a dry tone, “of course I do, I know everyone.”

Because of course he did. It wasn’t like he didn’t just tell Danny that he wasn’t omniscient, that was clearly a different skill set to someone as determined to be mysterious as Clockwork. Danny found himself wondering if the intrigue surrounding the older ghost was not mostly of his own creation, an attempt at seeming aloof and beyond comprehension while simultaneously laughing behind everyone else’s backs.

A wash of amusement filtered through the ambient ectoplasm of Clockwork’s lair and Danny scowled up at him, “I thought you weren’t a mind reader?”

Clockwork tried to hide his smile, unsuccessfully, and nodded, “I do not need to be, to hear the accusations you make towards me,” he guided Danny to the main room of the tower where the screens were kept along with the relatively recent addition of a couch and coffee table. There was warm tea, purple and slightly glowing, already waiting for them.

“So I’m right then? You are just messing with us all the time?” Danny grabbed his own cup, dubious, Clockwork wouldn’t poison him right? He would know whether a half ghost could drink something if anyone did.

If Danny was expecting an answer, he’d be dissapointed, but when a ghost spent enough time with the mysterious Ancient it became increasingly clear that straight answers were not something they would get  in large supply. So instead he rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea, Clockwork could be as obnoxious as he wanted after saving Danny’s family like he did.

The least Danny could do in return, was accept his eccentricities.

“Do you remember your dream?” Clockwork asked and Danny shook his head. There were bits and pieces, sure. Certain emotions and feelings that flashed to the surface when he closed his eyes or tried to think about it. He’d never been good at trying to recall something once he was awake, and despite Jazz once offering to buy him a dream journal to ‘help him decode his inner turmoils’ he’d never felt the need to try and change that.

He sighed into his tea, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I know you’re busy.” There was no way he was going to get a decent amount of sleep now, especially since he’d have to fly all the way home first and he didn’t even know how late it already was.

Clockwork’s lips twitched slightly upwards, “Daniel you’ve never once cared before how busy I am when you’ve come to visit,” Danny flinched, well he wasn’t wrong , “and besides, I quite enjoy your company. It’s no trouble at all.”

“Ah,” Danny didn’t know how to react to that, he was pretty sure he was nothing but trouble, especially with a certain future of his locked up in that other part of the clock tower they’d been in, “thanks?”

His host sighed, taking the time to sip his own eerily glowing tea. The silence stretched, but not uncomfortably and Danny found himself starting to drift towards sleep again, the struggle to try and keep his eyes pried open quickly becoming a losing one.

That was probably his cue to leave, as nice as it was to just sit here and not worry about things like classes and ghost attacks, he was probably already pushing it close to the first bell at school. He stood up and Clockwork’s eyes followed, “I have to head out, thanks for the tea Clockwork. I’ll try to be more considerate the next time I drop by.”

There was a small pinch between Clockwork’s brows, something he wasn’t saying or that Danny wasn’t hearing. “I’d rather you didn’t,” he assured and Danny let out a chuckle. He’d probably respond with something equally sarcastic, if not quite as dry, if he wasn’t so tired.

Clockwork seemed to be of the same mind, “Daniel, when was the last time you slept through the night?” He asked it as a question, as if he didn’t already know. Then again, maybe Danny was giving himself too much credit, it was entirely possible Clockwork didn’t waste his incredible power watching to see if Danny bothered to sleep at night.

“Yesterday,” Danny lied, a yawn built behind his jaw as if to discredit him but Danny held it back stubbornly. It didn’t seem to work though, as Clockwork’s lips tightened. He looked over at his screens, eyes flicking quickly over each one while his fingers tapped a steady rhythm against his staff. That, combined with the gentle ticking of clocks and general comforting atmosphere of the other ghost’s lair was making it more and more difficult for Danny to keep his eyes open.

He flinched awake fully as a hand shook his shoulder, shit, did he fall asleep standing up?  

“Daniel,” Clockwork’s hand was still on his shoulder, practically holding him up at this point, “you can always sleep here.”

Danny shook his head, “I don’t have time-”

“Daniel,” Clockwork interrupted, his expression flat.

Oh right.

“I don’t want to…” he tried, “It’s just, you already help me all the time, you’ve fixed so many of my stupid mistakes and-” and Danny was tired of being a burden. He was tired in general, but ancients was he tired of that specifically.

He was tired of seeing his friends lose sleep to help him as back up, he was tired of constantly having to go behind his parents backs and lie to their faces he was tired of watching as Jazz’s once perfect grades started slipping just enough because of all the time she spent helping Danny with his and he was especially tired of knowing that he wasn’t worth the effort in the first place.

Not if he could turn into that .

But Clockwork didn’t let go of his shoulder, in fact, he pulled him closer into a hug, a real, full hug like the ones he used to get from his parents before they started wearing their weapons and he was scared to get near them. “I’d rather you slept here than wandered around the realms half asleep. Who knows where you’d end up,” he said, speaking gently into Danny’s hair.

“You would,” Danny said before losing the battle against another yawn and relaxing fully into Clockwork’s arms. “You know everything. Can I really sleep here?”

“Of course,” Clockwork released him, leaving one hand on Danny’s back to guide him to a staircase he hadn’t ever noticed before. Just how big was this clock tower anyways?

The room Clockwork took him to was a little bigger than the one he had at home and nothing like what Danny had expected. Most of the tower was colored with dark purples and muted greens, with the occasional brush of silver or brass from the multitude of gears and cogs that littered the floors and walls. This room however, was full of dark blues and greys, a swirling galaxy floating above a single full sized bed that Danny easily sunk into when Clockwork led him to it.

He blinked up at the stars, they were perfectly accurate to the night sky above Amity Park if it didn’t have the light pollution and had to stop himself from counting every constellation rendered there in perfect detail or he’d fall asleep just like that without even bothering to thank Clockwork for offering to stop time for him.

“You made me a room.” It should have been obvious, of course, but Danny hadn’t fully processed what the room and it’s decorations meant until he’d said it out loud and Clockwork didn’t even try to deny it.

Clockwork fazed the blankets through Danny in order to pull them over him properly, tucking him in. Danny was almost tempted to ask for a bedtime story, just to see how he’d react. “Yes, I made you a room.”

Danny frowned, he didn’t understand, “why?”

“I suppose it’s a bit of an excuse to have you visit more often,” Clockwork said, ruffling his hair before sitting at the foot of the bed, “and an offer for you to get some proper sleep before you sleepwalk into someone else’s lair and I have to fight for custody.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danny mumbled into the pillow, his eyes drifting shut.

The last thing he heard before he drifted off was a soft chuckle and a gentle reassurance that he needn’t worry about anything like that just yet. Maybe, if someone like Clockwork could see the absolute worst of Danny, the monster he could become, and still care enough to make him a room and be sure he slept, then maybe Danny couldn’t be as terrible a burden as he thought. Surely Clockwork, who could see all the futures stretched out below him like a parade, wouldn’t waste his efforts if he didn’t think Danny was worth the time.

He dreamed of stars and ticking clocks and didn’t worry for once about how soon he’d have to wake up.

[mc-critical]

I've been thinking about Gulnihal and i know somebody already said this (i think it was you?) but its very telling how mc hurrem's first immoral action was against her and not mahi,ibrahim,etc. People really dont talk about it much. I also feel gulnihal was wasted she had much opportunity but then i kinda understand why because that would be an entire new can of worms. I saw a post say they should have made raziye mahi's daughter but also she could been made gulnihal's daughter it would have given hurrem a new maybe temporary antagonist instead of the isabella plot.

Hürrem's first immoral action being towards Gülnihal was said by Joanna in this awesome and detailed post. And it's totally true: in a parallel to Mahidevran beating/poisoning Hürrem, she herself did a very similar thing because her supposed best friend dared to go to SS's chamber. Okay, it's understandable why this is widely considered as a personal betrayal for Hürrem, even if we count the fact that she couldn't simply refuse to go there if she were called, but again, was burning her face truly necessary? Wasn't this a tad too far for a person you were friends with before then? Did this girl deserve such harsh "punishment"? Maybe ignore her, not trust her again even, but this? There is no way I can justify it. Besides, Gülnihal has the right to have an ambition for a higher place in the harem, just like Hürrem and all the other girls there. It is what's expected of everyone in this environment and Gülnihal doesn't deserve to be derided for it, especially not when that is her "biggest sin".

This action of Hürrem's certainly sets one thing straight - she's willing to commit to her life-long goal, no matter who or what stands in her way. She isn't against having friends or making alliances in the harem, and at one point she tries hard to earn everyone's trust, following Nigar's advice, but she wants these friends and alliances to commit as well, to be next to her at every step of the way. But when they do the littlest suspicious action, the tiniest mistake, she gets as cautious as ever towards them. I feel the motto of Hürrem's character is: "Pressure made me who I am." Her experiences in the harem have led to paranoia and constant fear that something bad would happen to her, so she's willing to do anything to lower them. If she considers that one friend of hers poses a threat of sorts, she would go against them. In short words, she went through trauma, but she learned almost effortlessly to inflict that exact same trauma on others.

I agree that Gülnihal deserved better from the show. She is so nice and sweet and after that arc of hers ended she became relegated to a more background role than a full-on supporting character. I would've loved to see more done with her and more conflict between her and Hürrem, more doubt on Gülnihal's part. I know that her being supportive and loyal to her friend is the point of her characterization and perhaps the writers didn't want to break the status-quo in that regard, but say, her not willing to forgive and deciding to leave on her own terms and have that explored and shown to us in its finest detail would be much more satisfying to me.

And that said, the way she actually got out of the show is my biggest problem with her writing that unfortunately, goes beyond her, too. Her ultimate fate is perfectly serviceable in isolation - she got married to a guy and ultimately got out of the toxic harem, a much better ending than nearly the whole main cast! I don't even mind all that much that it happened off-screen during a time-skip and we learned about it in the simplest way possible only after it IN THEORY: but it fails so much IN PRACTICE because of the writers' lacking attempt to set it up beforehand with Gülşah's attempt on Gülnihal's life. Episode 23, as a whole, is filled with drama that is intended as a big deal, but solely turns out to be retroactively unnecessary: I would get it if Gülnihal's stabbing triggered them to marry her off, but it truly didn't when you think about it, because, in the context of the narrative, they could've done this particular exit with Gülnihal anyway! They could've freely pulled it off without that whole drama, since the time-skip is in the next season and is in no way tied up to the events of E23. And in the season finale she seemed to be recovering with absolutely no hints given that she would go somewhere else, let alone marry. This sounds like a nitpick, I know, but what empowers this problem even further is that all of Gülşah's doings in E23 themselves are brushed off almost entirely later. E23 is the climax of Mahidevran's mini-arc in S01 about her constant claims that she isn't a killer and refusal to take away Hurrem's life, which make her object Gülşah's desire to end everything for good. This particular thing has been built-up from as early as E16 and it would be normal for it to reach its culmination. And yet, when Gülşah goes fully against Mahidevran's orders and Mahidevran beats her to death, all of which seems to affect the whole castle and Mahidevran breaks down in denial of what she did, it's as if all this is forgotten, not 3-4 episodes later. Two scenes aside, Mahidevran still trusts her unreservedly and there're no long term consequences for the whole thing, which makes it all pointless filler as a result and I feel that extends to Gülnihal, as well. It's almost like the writers drew themselves into a corner about this situation and the following aftermath of Leo's death and since they couldn't focus on every important thing at once, there was no time for Gülnihal left and simply threw the easiest, most convenient solution they could. It still baffles me to this day.

Gülnihal being a temporary antagonist to Hürrem's isn't a bad idea at all and I would love to see that in the remainder of S01B, but honestly not during the episodes of the Isabella arc. {I would also discard this arc entirely, if I were writing the show (because it's just such a tonal mess), but I would instead focus on Hürrem finding more allies like Gül Aga in the harem and delve deeper into her traumatic reactions to Leo's death and spend more time building up what should've been built-up all that time we wasted on Isabella: Mahidevran falling out of love with Süleiman. That's one of my core problems with E55, because despite of the events before her going in Edirne, the only thing it did is make this whole thing a plot-twist (that, by the way, could render Mahidevran hypocritical in the context of the episode) when it really wasn't, but that's a post for another day and excuse me for the ranting.} I personally would also like Raziye to be Mahidevran's daughter, because of her "false second pregnancy" Gülşah spread the rumor of in S01, but then again, her relationship with Mustafa could lose a little of its screentime then and that screentime is precious, because they really had such a well-written and human relationship. And I'm judging this as an alternative we have from what ended up really happening with Raziye, which was the weakest link of S04 to me and honestly, anything would be better than that. I wouldn't mind if Gülnihal had a daughter and if that daughter were Raziye. Then we would see her dynamic with Hürrem in a new and interesting light and it would've spiced up the narrative a little for sure. Temporary rivalry between them and especially, one after what Hürrem did to her, would've been amazing, I won't lie.

[electrictoes]

Maybe We Could Be

For @dailysvu's Amanda Rollins Week

Day 3: Friends to Lovers Characters: Amanda Rollins, Sonny Carisi, Minor OCs Relationship: Amanda Rollins / Sonny Carisi Warnings: None

Read on AO3

Amanda had a problem - it was a small, solvable problem, and she even had a plan for how to deal with it. Step one, though, was convincing Sonny to go along with it. Four years ago, she thinks, he would’ve jumped at opportunity, but now he was frowning at her across the room. “You want me to lie to your cousin?”

She crossed the short distance from the door to sit in the chair opposite him. “It’s not actually lying, you know,” she said.

“I think it technically is,” Carisi countered, looking over at her from behind his desk.

Amanda leaned forward on the desk, all but fluttering her eyelashes him, “Think of it as going undercover.”

“I’m not a cop anymore,” Sonny told her, leaning back in his chair. 

“What, so you’ve forgotten how to do it, is that what you’re saying?” She grinned at him like it was a challenge, but he didn’t take the bait.

“No, but this isn’t going undercover.”

“Sure it is - you’re undercover as my boyfriend.” Amanda caught the way his expression changed - almost minutely, his eyes widening slightly, his mouth dropping open for a microsecond before he closed it. “Come on, Dominick, please?”

He sighed, sitting upright. “I’m not sayin' no, I’m just sayin' it’s lying and I don’t know why you want to pretend to be somebody that you’re not,” his expression was serious, and she knew he meant what he was saying, “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your life - you’ve got a lot going for you.”

That stung a little - the accusation that she was ashamed - but she knew that he wasn’t exactly wrong about that - people who were content with their lives don’t ask their friends to be fake dates to dinner with their family members. “I didn’t say I was ashamed; I said, my cousin is coming to town and she will go back home with stories about how little Amanda still doesn’t have her shit together, and I’ll be getting phone calls, my mom and everyone… it’s just easier if Katie can go back to Georgia tellin’ everyone I’m happily shacked up with a nice guy.”

Sonny’s voice was low, concerned. “I thought you didn’t care what they thought?”

“I don’t…or at least, I try not to,” Amanda insisted, then reached over, laying her hand atop his where it rested idly on the desk. “But c'mon, it’ll be fun - you and me, playing romantic for the night.” 

He frowned, but he didn’t move away. “I don’t know.”

“What?” She asked playfully, “The idea of playing my boyfriend so horrifying to you?”

“Not the boyfriend part,” he shrugged, “The playing part.”

Amanda’s own mouth dropped open then, the humour from the moment gone as she looked at him. “Dominick-”  

He shook his head, “Look, I’ll do it… of course I’ll do it, you knew that before you walked in here. But I’m not - for the record - I’m not totally on board with pretendin’.”

 Despite his reservations, Sonny was definitely playing the part - he met her at her apartment, stopping by early enough say goodnight to the girls before they left; he was dressed to impress in a dark blue suit she hadn’t seen on him before - Katie’s fiance was an architect and they had chosen a fancier restaurant than Amanda would’ve expected, although admittedly she hadn’t seen Katie in person for almost ten years.

When she answered the door he didn’t react quite quickly enough to school his expression - she saw his eyes roam over her, and she found she didn’t mind - she returned the favour as he stepped into the apartment to say a quick hello to the girls while she grabbed her coat and bag.

She kissed both of the girls goodbye, and thanked Sienna before they left, ignoring the grins on both Jesse and Sienna’s faces as she followed Sonny out of the apartment. 

He reached for her arm once the door had closed behind them, resting his fingers just below her elbow as she turned to look at him, “Hey… you uh, you look- that’s,” he took a quick breath, “You look beautiful.”

Amanda was surprised to find herself feeling shy about the compliment, endeared by the awkward way he had stumbled over his words, the blush creeping across his cheeks. His fingers slipped from her arm, catching her own before he drew his hand back, her heart thudding in her chest at just that small amount of contact.

Step two of Amanda’s plan was simple - convince Katie she was madly in love with Sonny, which wasn’t going to be hard to do, and make sure she went back to Georgia with stories about how happy Amanda was. When Katie had called to say she coming up to New York for a long weekend with her fiance Amanda couldn’t find an excuse to decline the invitation - and she liked Katie; they’d never been close - Katie was ten years younger than her, and Amanda’s trips back to Loganville were few and far between once she moved to Atlanta; Katie had been just a kid at the time- but they got along fine. Amanda’s reluctance came less from not wanting to see Katie, and more from wanting to avoid yet more judgement - her mother, her aunts, cousins… everyone had an opinion on Amanda’s life and the choices they felt she’d made. Being a single mom with kids from two different fathers had rendered Amanda the topic of family gossip, and she was tired of it. She wished she didn’t care what they said about her, but no matter how far she ran and how much she tried to remold her life, there would always be a part of her that was the same angry seventeen year old kid who was trying to outrun a reputation she didn’t want anymore. 

Sonny held out a hand for her as they got out of the cab, and she took it gratefully, gripping a little tighter than she probably should’ve, trying to ground herself; if it bothered him, he didn’t show it. He led the way towards the restaurant and she tugged on his arm before he went in, stopping them where they stood. “Hey, Sonny.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she said, voice low, “For this, and for, uh, for always having my back.”

He nodded, smiling down at her, “I know you already know what I think about this, and I’m gonna go along with whatever you want, but you don’t need to pretend to be anything you’re not, okay?”

“I know. I know, can we just… can you just be my boyfriend tonight? Be my partner, like you’ve always been?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but they were interrupted by a familiar voice, “Oh, Amanda!” Katie said as she approached them, and Amanda released Sonny’s hand to return the hug Katie gave her. 

When they pulled apart she saw Sonny was shaking hands with a tall, dark-haired man who Amanda presumed was Katie’s fiance. “I’m so excited to see you!” Katie enthused, “And who’s this?” she gestured towards Sonny - Amanda had told Katie she’d be bringing a date but hadn’t given any more information than that - and she was sure Katie’s mother and sisters would’ve had their own suggestions as to who Amanda’s date could be.

Sonny, prepared as ever, extended his hand to Katie, “Dominick Carisi,” he said with a smile, “I’m Amanda’s boyfriend.”

“Is that so?” Katie said as she shook his hand; she turned to Amanda and gave a wink so unsubtle Jesse could do better.  “This is my fiance, John,” she said, gesturing to the man with her.

“I figured,” Amanda said, shaking the hand he offered. “Nice to meet you.”

“Shall we?” Sonny gestured towards the door and Amanda took the opportunity to slide her hand back into his; nerves creeping up now that Katie was here and she was faced with keeping up a charade. Maybe Sonny had been right - maybe it was lying, but as he slipped his fingers into the gaps between hers, she wasn’t so sure that pretending they were together was an outright lie.

As they sat down to dinner, Amanda tried to keep the conversation light, tried to steer back to questions about Katie and John’s upcoming wedding, about their trip to New York, about family members back home. She didn’t know if Katie was genuinely curious or if she’d been instructed to find out as much as possible about Amanda’s life, but she was full of questions for Amanda herself.

She asked about the girls - how they were getting on, what they were interested in; it was all lighthearted and easy, until she turned towards Sonny, “And have you met the girls yet, Dominick?” she asked - Amanda could practically hear her Aunt Sarah in the question, and she frowned. Sonny, of course, wasn’t fazed.

“Yeah, I’ve known them their whole lives,” he said honestly. “They’re amazing kids.”

“Sonny is actually their godfather,” Amanda explained, “We, uh, we were friends for a long time before we got together… it just took us a while to admit to our feelings.”

“Oh right,” Katie said, “That’s great. It’s good to be friends first - John and I were friends in college.”

Amanda took the opportunity to ask Katie more about the two of them - and they made it partway through their main courses before the conversation drifted back to Amanda again. 

“How’s the detective thing going, Amanda? I still can’t believe you’re a cop, the stories Kim and Allie used to tell me when I was a kid!” 

“Um,” Amanda glanced sideways at Sonny, apprehensive about the stories Katie could tell; third-hand or not, they weren’t likely to portray her in the best light, "It's good."

Sonny reached over, putting his right hand on top of her left, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin, “Amanda actually got promoted last year,” he said, proudly. 

Amanda shrugged, “It was a long time coming, but yeah. Things are going really well at work,” she shared a small smile with Sonny, “Even if I still miss having this guy at my side.”

John turned towards Sonny, “You a cop too?” 

“Not anymore. I used to be - that’s how we met, but, uh, I’m a prosecutor now.”

“A lawyer?” Katie looked impressed - she gave Amanda yet another unsubtle look. That was a fact that would definitely be going back to Georgia with her.

“He’s a damn good ADA,” Amanda said; she turned her hand over beneath Sonny’s, lacing their fingers together. Her turn to be proud.

The rest of the meal was uneventful; whatever agenda Katie had been given by their family, it seemed to fade away as time went on - Sonny charmed Katie with ease and the conversation remained casual all the way through dessert. Sonny’s hand kept finding its way back to hers, and she was hyper-aware of his proximity, but she was enjoying it; that thought back in her head, that maybe this didn’t have to be a lie.

When they left the restaurant, they were headed in different directions, and Amanda broke away from Sonny to say goodbye to Katie - a lingering hug before Katie pulled back, smiling at her. “It’s so good to see you,” she said, “You’ll come to the wedding, right? You and the girls?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“And bring him,” she nodded towards Sonny. 

“It might be a bit too soon for that,” Amanda deflected, not sure Sonny would agree to keep up the fake boyfriend ruse for the length of a trip to Atlanta.

Katie shook her head. “The way he’s looking at you? You might be engaged by then.”

Amanda turned her head, following Katie’s gaze towards Sonny - he was watching her, but his eyes dropped away when he saw he’d been caught out.

“Send me the invite, and I’ll RSVP once I know,” Amanda said, not wanting to explore Katie’s idea further. “It was great to see you,” she said, and she meant it - despite the third degree Katie had given them early on, she’d enjoyed their company, and she was glad that she’d accepted the invitation - and even more glad that Sonny had agreed to come along. 

As they bid goodnight to Katie and John, Sonny’s arm came around Amanda’s shoulders, and he didn’t remove it once they were out of sight. Amanda leaned into him, twisting to hug him properly - she’d meant it as a thank you hug, but he drew her in close enough that she caught the scent of his cologne, and she wound her arms up and around his neck. They were standing far too close now for pretence - and there was no excuse now either, no way she could convince herself this was part of their little undercover operation. 

Neither of them made a move to take things further, but they held each other close for a full minute before she broke away.

When she got into bed that night it was with a smile on her face and butterflies in her stomach - she felt like a kid again; fifteen years old and home from a first date with a boy who’d just about gotten up the courage to hold her hand. Hopes and possibilities swirling through her head, and she was too wrapped up in the memory of his arms around her to even chastise herself for the giddy, lovestruck somersaults her heart was doing.

When she stopped by his office the next day, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it as she had done earlier in the week; him watching her from his desk; a smile hiding behind the suspicion on his face. “What do you want me to do now?” he asked - the look on his face said he knew something was coming and he was resigned to the fact that he’d agree to whatever it was, so long as it would make her happy.

She was ready to throw him out of his groove, though.

“You were wrong,” she said, simply.

He leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “And how do you work that one out?”

“It wasn’t lying. Last night, at dinner with Katie.”

He frowned, leaning forward again, and much as she’d done the last time they’d talked about this, she took the seat opposite him, a defiant look on her face. 

“It wasn’t lying because I wasn’t pretending. And I don’t think you were either.”

He took a second to respond, studying her face for a moment, uncertainty in his expression, “You wanna loop me in on what’s happenin’ here?”

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true the whole night - everything I said about how we met, how our relationship changed over time, none of that was a lie.”

In another echo of their earlier conversation, there was a brief second where his eyes widened; the disbelief on his face lingered longer this time, though. His voice was low when he responded, gesturing between them with his right hand, “I told her I was your boyfriend.”

“Maybe that wasn’t a lie,” she said, reaching across the desk and taking the hand he had in the air into her own, “Maybe it was just… a little early.”

“Amanda?”

“I wasn’t pretending to have feelings for you, Dominick,” she brought his hand down to the desk, their fingers still intertwined. 

“You, uh, you weren’t?” He asked, his eyes moving between her face and their joined hands.

“You said your problem with the whole thing was the pretence,” she said, struggling now to remember the words she’d rehearsed in her head on the way over here. “But I think we just haven’t, uh, admitted the truth to each other - about how we both feel, about how… how if we’re not together, we- we should be.”

Sonny smiled - at first, a small, giddy little smile, then a grin that was equal parts joy and mischief, “I’m pretty sure that still qualifies as lying,” he said, looking pleased with himself. 

“Don’t go all lawyer on me,” Amanda said, “Lose the argument for once; it might be worth it.”

 Four months later they flew down to Atlanta for Katie’s wedding. 

No undercover operation required. 

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: the sims 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: settsu banri/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 2.1k words

𝐚𝐧: banri and reader? using the Sims as an excuse to flirt? more likely than you think. been playing Sims 4, and I got a surge of inspiration at like 1 am. also, friends to lovers is one of my faves, goes hand in hand w/ many tropes (fake dating cough cough)

A laptop with no mouse, you’re such a pro-gamer.” Banri teases you, lifting the blankets slightly to let you settle in beside him. Fixing your position on the bed, you let out a laugh as he yelped from the skin contact.

“Your feet are fucking cold!”

You stick your tongue out at him, before turning on your laptop. “Then don’t make fun of my set-up, e-boy! You’re the one who wanted to game in bed.”

“I was expecting gacha-“

“I have event burnout,” you whine in protest, “I need a break from my eternal suffering, so we’re playing the Sims 4.”

Shuffling closer to you, his thighs now beside yours, he watches you load up an unfinished sim from your gallery. He snickers as he looks at the avatar closely.

“Oh, so we’re making each other then?” Banri asks, noting the various clothes that looked incredibly similar to stuff he actually owns. Clearly, you already got a head start. “My face looks kind of fucked though.”

Giggling, you turn to face him. “Obviously it’s hard to do your gorgeous, one of a kind face justice, have pity on my average sim-making skills.” You joked, observing Banri’s expression for a comeback. Whatever he throws at you, you’ll be prepared to throw back.

“Then I’ll let you look at my face as a reference, for as long as you want,” he replies, the quirk of his lips letting you know he had more to say. “Just like how you’re looking at me right now,” he continues, a little softer this time.

Caught off-guard, you force yourself to turn back to the bright blue screen as Banri’s sim lets out various sounds of Simlish non-sense. Did joining theatre make him even more smooth or something?

And here you thought you could avoid the feelings continuously sprouting in your chest. You supposed inviting the object of your affections over to your place didn’t help your case; with your friend spending more and more time as an actor, you secretly longed for and cherished the time you spent together.

Still, with how he grew and bloomed as a person it was hard not to catch feelings.

With a boyish grin set on his face, he found himself revelling in your cute embarrassment. “Made ya speechless?”

“Something like that,” you said half-heartedly.

You always found him attractive, bowl-cut, dumb animal print and all. Of course, as if you would ever tell him seriously lest his ego gets bigger. Yet when you were looking at a picture of him for reference, your thoughts weren’t ‘yeah my friend is attractive, what a good reference for this sim’.

Instead, it was more along the lines of, ‘I’d like to punch his mouth, with my mouth.’

Slightly concerned by your lacklustre response, Banri looks at your face for a sign of discomfort or anger. Lips slightly pouted, eyebrows somewhat furrowed, and eyes completely focused on the screen.

Wait, what were you doing?

“Yo what are you doing to my face! Stop stretching it out!” You were smiling again, so he wasn’t all that bothered by your petty retaliation really, plus it was nice to know he hadn’t said anything that was out of line with you.

“Fine, fine. I wanna get Banny’s face right.” You say.

Banri opens his mouth, then closes it, then lets out a huff of laughter. “You have a nickname for the sim now?” He was about to say more until one of your hands takes hold of his face.

Settsu Banri was not easily flustered, nor did his face turn red from small, insignificant touches. The tingling feeling rendered within him as your fingers brush against his skin, however, was present no matter how much he denied it.

This weird silence wasn’t really his thing, but if he spoke up now or teased you back, there was a chance you would stop. Why didn’t he want you to stop?

Your index finger traces his jawline, the pad briefly meeting his cheek before sliding upwards to the bridge of his nose. He didn’t close his eyes, but with your intense stare piercing through him, his gaze shifts towards somewhere, anywhere else.

The wall was a nice place to set his eyes on. Not so plain that his thoughts would wander but not so cluttered that he wouldn’t know where to start. There was a time when your room was littered with posters from different shows, games, bands- he could remember it pretty well, having made fun of you for it.

At the present a choice few posters still there, but now there was also the addition of photos of you and other people on the wall. Some were polaroids, others were pictures you printed out yourself and taped on.

From afar, he spots several photos with him in it- when you went thrift shopping together, the cultural festivals you dragged him to and the music festivals he visited with you. A part of him is pleased, smug even, to know that he’s important enough to you have his pictures up there.

He hadn’t really thought about it before, but when did the two of you get so close to hang out all the time? You had always been chill with him even when he was a delinquent, but after joining Mankai the two of you had grown closer.

“Oi, Banri. Look at this!”

Huh, when did you stop touching his face?

When Banri looked at the screen appraisingly, his sim version- Banny, you called him, looked a lot more like him. You even dressed him in clothes he would’ve chosen for himself.

“Like the animal print? Downloaded a bunch for you.”

He whistled, looking at the different outfits you chose. “You did pretty good, I guess. Could probably do better though.”

You scoff, looking a little doubtful. Sure, Banri excelled in many things, but making a good sim look-a-like isn’t a common talent, especially without any practice.

“Have you even played the Sims 4 before?”

Shrugging, Banri pulled the device onto his lap from yours. “2 and 3. Never touched 4, should be easy enough.”

He plays around with the options for a bit. After entering your name and gender, he looks through the possible aspirations and traits he could give your sim, which was easy enough. He briefly wondered if you would protest being given a mismatched trait, but when he hovers the cursor over one you don’t react at all. 

Calling out your name, he eyes you from his peripheral. This wasn’t the first time you spaced out today. One arm went in front of you as he waved his hand to catch your attention.

“You can… also,” you paused, chewing on your lip for a few seconds, “for reference. If you wanted.”

He whips his head to face you completely, looking a little shell-shocked.

‘If I wanted?’

He paused, figuring out how to phrase his response. Honestly, he probably didn’t need to- he already has your face mapped out and memorised in his brain at this point, but there was no way he was admitting that.

Besides, if you offered it wouldn’t be wrong wanting to accept.

“Not that I need it, but I’m just making sure, ya hear?” His voice was the same as always, not a sign of wavering to hint at his anticipation or nervousness. “Bet you just want my hands all over ya or something.” He said, doing his best to manage a playful tone but not quite making the cut.

If someone else had said it you would have felt called out, or at worst offended, but you knew he was merely slipping into the language he most felt comfortable using.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Your voice came out a little shaky at the start, but thankfully he doesn’t out you for it. “Just don’t be weird about it.” There was no doubt in your mind that your cheeks were hotter than the sun, but you were curious about how it felt.

“No pressure,” Banri said, hoping his face is still the picture of nonchalance despite the erratic thumping of his heart in his chest defying it. “You can back out anytime.”

You don’t answer, steadily avoiding his gaze by observing the hand hovering near your face. It twitched.

The blanket shifts as Banri sits in a way where he could look at you properly, putting the laptop aside.

As soon as you felt his fingers come in contact with your face you immediately shut your eyes, unable to bear the embarrassment. A multitude of questions ran through your head, unable to concentrate on a single one.

Why did you offer? Why did he accept? You did the same, so why was it such a big deal if he touched your face? Why did you touch his face in the first place? Why were you so touch-starved? Why did he it feel so nice?

You hoped closing your eyes hid the self-consciousness and pleasure you felt at this moment, enjoying his knuckles glide against your skin.

Banri narrows his eyes, stomach twisting at how overwhelmingly adorable you looked and how soft you were. Hell, you were turning him all soft and sappy and disgusting but that was the least of his worries right now. At least your eyes were closed, he doesn’t have to put on a facade— that this was just a friendly thing, because if he was reading the signs right you were both venturing somewhere beyond that.

His thumbs press against your cheekbones, so featherlight the sensation might as well be from a ghost. You stay still, unable— or perhaps unwilling— to move, and as much as you try to hold it in your breaths grow more and more uneven the longer Banri’s hand lingers on your skin.

You wonder if this is as intimate for him as it was for you.

Your skin is warm and soft, he’s a little conscious if the callousness of his fingertips feels uncomfortable to you.

Even with the slight roughness, his fingers felt infinitely tender as they swept through your cheeks.

Following your cheekbone, he moves to your jaw, to your chin, and with his fingers up again to his forehead, learning the planes of your face. He’s had you memorised visually, but it wouldn’t hurt to familiarise himself with the feeling of you. Banri stretches out his fingers before fully cupping your face with his palms, swallowing when you lean your head into one of them.

“Do you know,” Banri hesitates, “what you’re doing to me?”

His courage wanes, he wants to say more but it’s so difficult sorting out the emotions overflowing within. His head hurts a bit from figuring out what to focus on, the anxiety and panic or the joy and euphoria. The only constant right now was you.

One hand falls to your arm, slowly sliding up and down while leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other continues to rest on the side of your face, thumb inching closer and closer. As the pad brushes against the corner of your lip, your eyes open wide and gaze directly at the familiar pools of blue.

The first thought that flies through your mind is that he’s close enough now to kiss you. Everything about him, the air around them, feels warm and humming with an energy you’ve never felt from anyone before— other than Banri.

“This isn’t easy for me,” Banri lets out a breath, both of you doing your best to not disturb the feeling in the room. His hair falling loose but his eyes never leave yours for a second. “I’ve never… Look, I like being around you. You matter to me. A lot.”

You can’t help the smile that makes its way on your face, the utter adoration, and fondness and love you had for him escaping all at once. With what little space you had between, you pressed your forehead against his.

“You matter to me too. A lot.” You muttered, repeating his confession, closing your eyes again before ever so gently pushing your lips to his.

You’ve imagined how it would be like to kiss Banri before, rough and a little harsh, but as you felt his hand through the baby hairs at the bottom of your head you were more than content at his gentle kissing.

Banri continues kissing you slowly, unsure if the sun had already set, but all that mattered was this moment.

want to order again?

[sweetestlamb]

Make Me Crescendo

Summary: Song-ah ponders if there is truly any space left in Joon Young's life for her. Joon Young shows her exactly where her place is.

Author's Note: I didn't expect to enjoy this show as much as I do honestly, I love the dynamic and chemistry between the leads. Most of the other characters could choke for all I care, but I love Song-ah and Joonie, they are goals and they deserve to just run away and be happy. Anyway, I was inspired so this happened. (Please don't leave comments asking about when I'll write more, I'll do it when I can and when I'm inspired for all of my stories. If you are going to leave a comment, you can tell me what you liked or what I could do better, appreciate that more!) Happy reading, please ignore all my lame music puns! 😂😈 

Music filters through the doors as she watches on her heart thumping erratically, a metronome expelling the staccatos of her fear. The gaggle of female students outside the door white noise in the background, their coos and awes stabbing her paper thin heart that is wavering in her chest.

They sound so good together!

Omg, don't they look perfect?

I think they would be a much better couple!

Taking a step back her violin bangs into the wall suddenly alerting them to her presence, her eyes dart wildly like a cornered animal as they look at her with pity and sneering apologetic eyes as if saying: you brought this on yourself, how could you ever think you could have him?

With a wet gasp, she scurries off avoiding their looks clutching her hands tightly as she bursts through the doors. The cool Spring air whips her hair around her face temporarily blocking her face from onlookers, the moisture on her cheeks causes strands to stick before she pushes them back.

Seeing them play in such perfect harmony has only cemented the doubts that already fill her mind, how can see ever measure how to Jung-kyung? A woman that he has not only loved for years but who also plays her instrument far better than she ever will? If she is meant to be a replacement, she stands no chance; they are worlds apart maybe it's time she accepted that.

I'll cherish our moments today, it was an honor.

She knows what she has to do, her heart whines but she blinks away her tears. He deserves better.

His missed calls and messages taunt her as she peers down despondently at her phone, she hasn't been able to bring herself to sever their bond. Every time she starts to type out a message to set him free, his smile flashes in her mind and she's rendered comatose. Instead flinging the cursed object far away and punishing her fingers as shrill notes screech from her violin.

Avoiding him isn't as simple as she'd hoped with everyone knowing about their ill-fated relationship and constantly inquiring about his whereabouts, it becomes sickening obvious that most "friends" who approach her with their shrieking calls of "unnie" could care less about her and are instead hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

As soon as they realized he was absent and had no plans of suddenly materializing, they bombarded her with excuses of why they needed to take their leave, immediately. She vaguely wondered if they cared at all about how little they made her feel, their treatment further emphasizing how insignificant others viewed her.

She was always disposable to others. She didn't even have a best friend to turn to for advice, someone else who has decided that she simply wasn't worth the trouble of staying and fighting.

Nobody had ever deigned her worthy of fighting for.

With a forlorn sigh, she grips her purse tighter better climbing the stairs to the school entrance. She only has one class to get through today, before she could escape to her room and ruminate on how to inform Joon-young that she couldn't do this anymore.

Arriving a few minutes early to class, she takes her seat closer to her front away from the gossiping girls who had been waving her over. She had no desire to listen to their backhanded comments on her lack of talent or unbelievable relationship, their words only added fuel to the vicious thoughts already cycling in her brain.

Pretending not to hear them beckoning her over, she looks at the professor with more focus than she's currently capable of, turning a blind eye to her surroundings.

Time crawls by like molasses poured from a jar, before the professor dismisses the class causing students to bolt from their seats, she being one of the first. He typically waits for her after this class and she has very little time to flee without him catching her, ignoring the calls of her name once more she takes her leave, violin thumping a dull pain on her back.

Cracking the door open she peeks outside, a sliver of her head breaching the opening, a sigh of relief falling from her lips when she meets a vacant spot. Stepping out further she glances around, but he is nowhere to be seen, the hallways empty besides students trekking to their next classes.

Her chest aches traitorously but she internally berates herself, this is good I don't want to see him, her heart ripples at the lie, refusing to engage in this façade that she's forcing. Clutching at her chest she takes one trembling step, then another before finding her resolve and racing to the door.

So close, almost there, come on.

Hand reaching for the handle, she twists it pushing it open seconds away from freedom.

"Song-ah!" Her skin prickles from his deep baritone, his tone wrapping her in a honeyed cocoon. She hesitates, fingers twitching on the cold smooth metal.

"Song-ah, wait!" The desperation in his voice halts her escape, unable to abandon him when his voice reveals so much about how he's feeling. She loathes the mere concept of being someone who hurts him.

Reinforcing her now wavering resolve she slowly spins around, their eyes meeting in a clash, his own shining brightly as he peers into her soul. Her breath hitches as she watches him step closer to her, suddenly there isn't enough oxygen in the room, her lungs wheeze at the atmospheric change.

His beautiful hands gradually elevate, millimeters from her skin, as he begs for permission with his smoldering dark eyes.

She almost accepts defeat, before Jung-kyung's smug sour face flashes in her mind. Dousing her with icy cold realization, they just aren't meant to be.

She draws away from his searching fingers, stepping just out of his reach.

Hurt blazes across his handsome face, hardening in his eyes.

"Why have you been ignoring my calls and messages?"

He goes straight for the jugular, not pussyfooting around the elephant in the room.

"I've been busy practicing." She responds weakly, recoiling under his hard glint.

He steps forward once more, instinctively she retreats, the demure mouse to his assertive cat.

He sighs, stepping back his shoulder sagging in disappointment.

"What's wrong? Why won't you even let me come close to you? Why are you ignoring me?"

This is the moment, the one she's been yearning and waiting for, the perfect opportunity to put this sham to an end. Her mouth opens and closes as she pushes herself to be courageous for once, do the right thing and put both of them out of their misery.

You look better with her. I don't deserve you. I'm not good enough. Not strong enough. Leave. Leave me.

Please.

But, she can't. Can't get her mouth to say any of those truths. Fear and heartbreak render her immobile and cowardice takes center stage instead, ready for its solo.

"I...I...." He looks at her with warm eyes, pleading with her to finish her sentence, hope settled in the lines of his skin.

"I have to go."

"Song-ah!"

Her breath doesn't return until she's shaking on her seat at the bus stop. He hadn't chased her. Maybe he had just learned that she wasn't worthy the trouble.

Her days lapse by as she moves through life resembling a zombie, obsessively looking at her phone only to feel her heart fracture each time no notifications await her hungry eyes.

She goes to class as normal, no longer having to avoid her classmates as they have moved on to something more entertaining than her relationship. Their piteous looks make her skin crawl, her fight with Joon-young the talk of the town. Now they can freely gossip about her and how they knew it would never last, the pure glee on their faces is grotesque.

She sees him in passing in the hallway but he keeps his distance, never maintaining eye contact for too long. She's getting exactly what she wanted. Yet she feels sick to her stomach, her skin clammy and cool.

The irony isn't lost on her, how appropriate that this would be the one thing she's able to do successfully. Ruin her own life and sabotage her own happiness.

There are nights when her control falters and she stares at the illuminated screen of her phone, writing a message only to erase it with a sigh before crashing into her mattress. Her limps are heavy and uncoordinated as she flails upon the surface.

"Why does this have to be so hard?" Her question goes unanswered in the stillness of the night, as she ultimately falls into a fitful slumber.

Finally pulling herself together after days of quiet anguish, she goes back to her mission to find an accompanist.

She closes her phone as she says her final good byes to the team leader, thanking her for allowing her to use the rehearsal room in the Kyungoo building.

The winds blows the wispy ends of her skirt, dragging the material across the smooth skin of her knee. Subconsciously she tugs at the material, its a bit shorter than her usual ensemble she'd ordered it online not expecting it to hit inches above her knee. It seemed longer in the photos. 

A voice shouting her name drags her from her self-conscious inklings, as she spins around to see her potential accompanist.

A welcoming smile tugs her lips up, dimples sinking into her skin with familiarity.

Raising her hand in a small wave, bowing while calling out, "Hello! Nice to meet you, I'm Chae Song-ah, chae not choi, like the vegetable." Explaining before the inevitable questioning and confusion can sour their interaction with awkwardness. 

The sheepish grin informs her that she did the right thing, a hand is extended into her space and she grasps it in her own.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Park Min-jae." His warm smiles immediately puts her at ease. Together they enter the building amicable conversation flowing easily.

Hours pass as the music ricochets around the room, her bow light in her hands as she drags it across the strings, flabbergasted as harmonious sounds permeate the air. His fingers move in a flurry across black and white keys, shoulders bouncing in rhythmically as the song nears it end. Their last notes swirling around each other in a perfect crescendo.

"Wow, that was fun! You did great!" He breaks the silence, and his words leave her breathless.

She's been prepared for insults and sharpened words, his praise disorient her.

His wide grin leaves little room for argument so she merely nods, not quite believing him.

He starts to gather his belongings before turning to her, "I have to head out but I mean it, I think we sounded pretty good together. What do you think? Was I good enough for you?"

His innocent question plummets her into a sea of memories, his face at the forefront of her thoughts.

Shaking herself free she quietly replies, "Yes, it was good. You were good."

He lifts an eyebrow but says nothing else at her words.

"Okay, I'm free this weekend. Give me a call if you want to practice some more."

She nods finally collecting her own belongings, then turning off the lights and exiting the room.

The air is charged as the walk side by side and it's doesn't make sense until she turns the corner. Park Min-jae's excited voice never falters as she stands still, eyes locked on the new arrival.

Joon-young stands before her, eyes scouring her face before darting to the unknown man standing beside her. She watches his Adam's apple bob distractedly, as his eyes darken minutely.

"And I think we should..." Park Min-jae's voice peters off as he notices her unmoving figure before noticing that there is someone new. 

All three of them stand there wordlessly before park Min-jae cracks the uncomfortable silence.

"Hi, I'm Park Min-jae. A friend of Song-ah, nice to meet you." The and you are? lingers in the air.

Her brain stutters at the possibilities and she rushes to provide an answer.

"Oh! This is Joon-young, he's just a fri-"

"Her boyfriend." He extends a hand but his eyes never leave her face, she feels as if she's being challenged and she doesn't know how to respond.

"Nice to meet you! I didn't know you had a boyfriend, you should have let me know before flashing those pretty dimples at me." Park Min-jae's teasing smile unsettles her causing her to shift under his gaze, unbeknownst to her Joon-young's grip tightens ever so slightly in their handshake.

Suddenly her potential accompanist winces and jumps, apologetic look on his face before he retracts his hand to put them up in acquiesce.

"Sorry."

Joon-young looks at him, the seconds dragging before he nods looking away from again. Eyes for her only.

"Um..so I'll talk to you later? It was nice to meet you." Park Min-jae bows once more, glancing between them both before shaking his head and all but running away.

She feels pinned under his look and rubs her own arm simply to have something else to focus on. Feigning distraction, she looks at the ground; heart clattering frantically at his sudden appearance.

Mumbling under her breathe she finally speaks, "What are you doing here?"

She's completely unprepared for his hands to slide into hers with ease, her fingers curling around his before her brain can register what is occurring.

"Come with me." The please is unsaid but loud as a high C and she nods, helplessly following his lead as he drags her back into the rehearsal room.

The click of the door closing is harsh in the quiet of the room, as he stops in the center of the room. Large hand still wrapped around her own, his warmth drift into her brittle bones.

"Who was that?"

Glancing up at him from under dark lashes she swallows, "Park Min-jae, a pianist. I wanted to see if we could play together. My teacher recommended him."

Humming in response he stares her dead in her eyes, it takes every fiber of her being to maintain the contact.

"Why were you going to tell him I was just a friend?"

Sputtering, she chokes on nothing pulling her hand away to cover her mouth as small coughs escape.

Concern flashes on his face before it's driven away with anger.

She quivers under his hard stare, "I thought....I didn't know...we haven't spoken in days."

Pressing forward he invades her space, jaw tight.

"Do you think it's that easy?"

Mouth falling open in a perfect o, she looks at him in confusion. Lost at his meaning and wondering what is going through his mind, it's difficult to read his body language.

"What?"

"Do you think our relationship is that... trivial? Do you think a few days without conversing is all it takes to end it?"

Anger and hurt color the words as they fall from his lips and land like daggers in her stomach.

But he's not finished, not by a long shot.

"You can't just push me away and replace me with someone else!"

His cry echoes around the room and she stands in shock, contemplating picking her jaw up off the ground. When he says nothing more, simply pushes out harsh breaths and squeezes his fists by his side she finds her voice.

"What are you talking about? I'm not doing...that."

"Then what are you doing? You don't answer my calls or call me for days and now you're here with someone else, who flirts with you right in my face." She collapses guiltily. "How can you not have time for me? I'm your boyfriend, why can't you make space for me?"

Is there any room for me?

Like a wave, all her emotions and pain and insecurities and fears come surging out, his question the blow that broke the dam.

"You're the one who has no space for me. I saw you two that day, you looked like you fit. Two musical prodigies, it made sense. More sense than you and I. I can't do it, I can't pretend that I don't see everyone looking at us. Nobody understands why you'd want me. You should be with someone like her, she's from a good family and she plays the violin better than I'll ever--"

His hands latch onto her shaking shoulders, pushing her backwards until her violin collides with a click into the piano.

She whimpers as he gazes down at her, frustration streaming off him in waves.

"You don't understand how I could want you? I'll explain it, in detail. Listen closely because I don’t want to ever need to this again"

She gulps.

He swaggers closer, arms reaching over her shoulders to rest on the smooth surface of the piano. Brushing against her shoulder before gently gripping the straps of her violin, he removes them before placing the instrument carefully on the ground. Taking the weight from her shoulders.

His warm breath caresses her skin before he cups her face, hands tender on her hot cheeks. Air catches in her throat as she shyly looks up at him.

Almost instantly he smiles in return, dimples greeting her as his smile warms her to her core.

"I like how you make me smile, whenever I see you my heart feels at ease and I feel like everything will be okay. I like how you smile at me, you look prettiest when smiling at me."

Her cheeks flush from his compliments and she turns away embarrassed only to feel his sure fingers on the point of her chin, dragging her back into the penetrating line of his eyes; refusing to let her push him away again.

"I like how hard you work to be better, I like how you never stoop to others level you're kind to everyone despite how they treat you. I like your dimples, I always want to touch then. I like how you listen to me and want to hear about my life. I like that you don't treat me like I'm breakable and you tell me when you don't like something."

Then the air crackles as his hands smooth down her skin before settling on her neck, tugging her closer, she reaches out to grab his waist for balance.

"I like kissing you, I like how your lips feel on mine. I like how you open up for me. I like the little sounds you make."

Like a manifestation, a small shocked gasps tumbles from her lips and his eyes meander down to look at them in response. His own cheeks are scorching, red and flushed too but he doesn't seem like he has any intentions of stopping. Fearlessly pushing past his comfort zones.

Pulling her against his body now, his fingers twisted in the dark material of his button down shirt, he gazes at her adoration pouring from his eyes.

"I like you Song-ah. I like you so much. I don't want anyone else, there's space for you. In my heart there's so much space just for you."

He brushes her hair out of her face, his face open and vulnerable.

"Do you want it?"

Do you want me?

She looks at him as he awaits her answer and wonders what she ever did to deserve this? It seems too good to be true, she has never won anything in her life coming in last at everything that has counted. So how can this be true, how can she possibly deserve something has precious and valuable as his heart?

Smiling in defeat she nods at him, "I want you."

His joy is contagious as he grabs her, strong arms wrapping her in a warm embrace. She returns the hug, face smashed into the soft cotton of his shirt.

Slowly they draw away from each other, smiles not fading and then she catches his incessant gaze on her lips.

"Can I?"

Blushing she bites her lip nervously, tingling under his close appraisal. At the merest nod of her head he's on her, his lips crashing into her own as his hands tighten on their new location on her hips.

Tilting onto the tips of her toes she presses back, moaning as his tongue teases the seams of her closed mouth, her arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

His taste explodes on her buds as his slick muscle swipes around her moist cavern, he delicately sucks on her tongue enticing her to join him in his explorations. She trips as she attempts to press even closer to him, breaking their deep embrace.

Embarrassed at her lack of grace and coordination she opens her mouth, apology on the tip of her tongue. Before his next move steals her breath.

Easy as pie, he grips tightens on her waist as he hoists her up until she's sitting on the edge of the grand piano.

Her blush is now painful as it rages on her exhausted cheeks.

He smiles at her, disarming her before he steps forward her new position bringing their lips in perfect proximity.

"You looks pretty when you blush too." He teases and she slaps his chest in reprimand but he catches the appendages, trapping them between their body as he descends on her mouth again.

Kisses deeper and slower this time, largo as their tongues roll and plunder. His hands stroke her hair, his fingers traipsing across the soft skin of neck. He suddenly grabs her hips dragging her across the smooth surface until their groins collide and she gasps loudly at the hardness that jabs into her.

They both bolt back, frenzied eyes meeting as they take in this moment.

She's never gone this far before, never even kissed anyone. He is the owner of so many of her first, it's terrifying.

Looking down she sees his straining erection, a long line tenting the satin smoothness of his dress paints. Blushing she forces her eyes from the tempting sight, to look at his face. Momentarily frozen under his look, first time seeing them set ablaze with desire. All for her. 

"Are you okay?" His voice rumbles making her skin pebble with anticipation.

Is she okay? She can't quite answer such a big question, her head spinning from everything that has happened. She feels like her skin is going to burst apart and he's the only thing keeping her together, both her destruction and her resurrection.

Wrapping her legs around his waist she boldly yanks him back into her orbit, kissing the question off his mouth. He stills for a moment before responding, devouring her mouth as she opens up for him, slick noises loud to her ears.

Her lips are raw and tender as they kiss making up for all their time apart, then she feels her world tilting as he presses her back onto the piano, lips still swallowing her own until her back meets the cool material and their lips disengage.

He looks at her, her body spread across the instrument like an offering. She feels naked under his gaze.

Then his eyes shift to her skirt, high on her thigh from her sprawled position and she starts to sit up but he's faster to react, catching the edge of her skirt and fingering the material that trails across her thigh.

After thick moments of silence, he gazes up at her slowly drawing her skirt up her thighs, the cool air rushes across her hot skin and she gasps and squirms under his steady hands.

He stops at her movement glancing at her, she bites her lip, opening her legs ever so slightly and that's all the answer that he needs. Tugging the material slowly, slowly, adagio up her skin pushing it over her hips and his groan causes wetness to pool between her legs, she looks away in shame.

He fingers at her stark white panties, she jumps at his first touch on the skin above her undergarment. Peering down to watch his eyes locked on her in awe, his long fingers running across her skin before he stops to tug at the cute little bow on the top of her underwear.

Eyes never leaving hers, he drags the thin material down pausing to give her a chance to stop him, one word from her and this will all come to an end she has no doubts.

Tacet.

He pulls the material down, down before dragging it off her feet and folding it neatly in a square before placing it on a chair to the side.

"Beautiful."

His eyes are smoldering on her skin as she eagerly awaiting his next move, equal parts excitement and anxiety.

Clutching her eyes shut she grips futilely for purchase, before he knocks the breath from her lungs with his first slow drag on her opening, his tongue swiping through the moisture dripping from her. A gasp is punched from her chest, as he licks at her again, deeper the second time almost slurping at her and she cries out from the foreign sensation, pleasure ravaging her body.

"Ah! Joon-young ah!"

He surges at her cry and subsequent proclamation of his name, nimble fingers soon joining his tongue and pushing knuckle deep into her wet bud playing her as expertly as his beloved piano, her whines and whimpers serving as music to his ears.

Using two fingers he pries her lips open, exposing her further to his hungry eyes and mouth. His tongue stiffen into a point he jabs into her drenched hole, collecting her sweet nectar as he swipes across her walls.

She pants loudly, grabbing his hair in warning as she feels a ball tightening in the pits of her stomach, another first as he thrusts into her over and over, her skin puckering up in anticipation.

"Please, I, I...."

As her body nears its crescendo, release blinding her as pleasure flashes blinding white, suddenly he pulls away, she whines from the emptiness crying out for him.

When she opens her eyes in a weak glare, she finds him bent over the piano his bangs sweaty as they stick to his forehead. Gathering herself she sits up, eyes widening in surprise and arousal when she sees his erection jutting from his own fly and his fist wrapped around the rigid ruddy flesh.

He'd been touching himself while tasting her. That had been enough to hurl him dangerously close to the edge. Something like pride bubbles in her chest.

Clamoring off the piano, her heels clicks when she lands on the floor and that catches his attention.

He looks up at her with dazed eyes, looking younger with his bangs skewed and messy, his lips shiny with her condensation.

Taking the lead she grasps his hands tugging him until he snaps out of his stupor, within two steps they reach the piano bench and he looks at it and then her, puzzled before she gently presses his shoulders and seats him on the bench.

It's his turn to gasp as she climbs into his lap, her face scarlet red as his erection brushes against her sacred flower.

"Are you sure?" He asks, using every last bit of control to keep his hips still even as his body aches to plunge into her wet hole, mere inches away the heat wafting off all too tempting.

"Yes." She watches as he grips himself by the base, rubbing the head through her juices and her head falls back from the sensation and then his tip is at her entrance and she holds her breath.

He reaches up to hold her face, forcing her to meet his eye, "Breathe." He commands and as she inhales he slides into her, breaching her tight opening with one long smooth thrust upwards.

Her arms tighten around the wide stretch of his shoulders as gravity drags her further down his impressive length, pain and pleasure warring for dominance.

"Just a minute." She pleads and instantly he stops, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she loosens around him. When she can breathe again, she lifts herself up before sliding back down pleasure knocking pain back on its ass.

Immediately she needs more, lifting up again before slamming down onto his hard cock, wet sounds echoing off the walls and at first he is motionless, simply letting himself be used by her. But then he grips her tight cheeks, using them as leverage as he plants his feet and viciously pistons into her, her shriek deafening in this room made for acoustics.

They crash into each other, as they chase their release, his fingers easily unbuttoning her shirt and pushing it off her skin before catching her pebbled nipples through the thin lace of her bra. Her soft breasts jiggle as she bounces in his lap, his hard length driving into her, over and over and over.

At a particularly brutal thrust of his hips, she loses her precarious balance and falls back, instantly he grips her waist slowing her descent and lessening the blow, her back crashes into the piano keys and jarring dissonance filling the air.

They both glance at each other before smiling, recalling their last mishap with the piano after their first kiss.

Her sprawled position on the piano opens her wider and without pause he thrusts up into her again, tugging her back to meet his movement.

Light flashes behind her eyelids as he fucks into her, the piano crying out underneath their onslaught. She's too close to care and his frenzied thrusts make it clear he's not far behind.

He pries her eyes open once more, before kissing her. The gentle press of his lips in complete opposition to the hard hits of his hips. 

"Please, come." He whispers, begging her and simultaneously informing her of his plans.

She feels every molecule in her body burst apart as she vibrates on the piano, walls tightening around his length as he struggles to thrust through the vicelike grip she has on him before a hot stream fills her up, sticky and leaking, and he melts under her his head falling onto her belly.

It feels..... weird. Not nearly as sexy as it's depicted in videos. But a piece of her is giddy to be so full of him, her blush permanently stained on her cheek at this point.

Gently he drags himself out of her, she shudders as she feels his release leaking out without him there to keep it in. When she glances down pearly white substance is smeared across the keys of the piano.

She immediately feels filthy, complete disbelief at what exactly they'd done and where they'd done it. She covers her face in shame.

Something brushes against her sensitive skin and her eyes pop openly only to shriek as she watches in horror as Joon-young, cleans up the mess between her legs and the piano keys with a handkerchief.

Her handkerchief to be exact.

Grinning bashfully at her he shrugs, shoulders now light as his hair flops on his face.

"I'll wash it later."

Too embarrassed to answer she merely stands up, small smile tugging at her lips as she picks up her neatly folder panty before stepping back into it.

"Do you see now?" Do you see how much I want you? How much space there is, just for you?"

She's fighting losing battle. The irony isn't lost on her, the one time she loses it's the best thing that's ever happened to her.

In the hallway Jung-kyung pounds her fist into the wall, arriving minutes ago to practice with Joon-young for her recital only to hear the loud crashes of a piano keys. She'd been worried about him, was he angry because she was late? Missing her terribly?

She'd rushed to open the door only to stop frozen as she heard moans following the clash of the piano, soft feminine moans followed by a voice she knew all too well. Jealous and rage consumed her at the thought of that...nobody touching her Joon-young.

Taking as deep breath she turns around walking away, she will not give up on him but staying right now is impossible she can't bear the thought of seeing him glowing from being with someone else. This was probably how he felt watching her all these years.

She will be patient and wait for him.

They are destined and his time with Song-ah is fleeting, she knows he wants her. There isn't space for anyone else.

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes rather possessive over Spencer when she learns he’s been been with someone else since they hooked up four months ago. Category: SMUT (18+) Content Warnings: Language, mutual masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hand-on-neck (no choking), praise, degradation kink, possession kink, dirty talk Word Count: 7.1k (I didn’t mean for it to get this long I swear aldjfsdlfksk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 

MASTERLIST

NOTE: HERE IT IS!!! 🥰 Thank you all for showing so much love to Part 1, I seriously wasn’t expecting all the requests for more of the story, so it was fun coming up with ideas! I’m still not sure if I want to do 3 or 4 parts yet, but I’ll let you know soon! In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy reading this second installment! ❤

***

He's been a ghost in my head for four months.

Everywhere I went I could hear his voice, hear the way he whimpered out my name and how cries got higher and higher as I clenched around him. I felt the rough grip he held on my hips as I rode him, the pads of his fingertips leaving behind faint bruises that I currently wished I still had.

And more prominently, I saw his face. It was always in the back of my mind, burning into me with lust-drunk eyes and a pouty mouth in the shape of an O. It sizzled into my brain, the sound definitely sounding more like raindrops than fire, but I was more than okay with that.

Though, every time it rained, I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same— if he stood outside or watched from the safety of wherever he was and replayed that moment over and over again until he was aching to be in my presence once more.

I also had to wonder if he knew about the ring I'd left in his front seat.

Did he leave it in his car, perhaps in the glovebox or on a string that he tied around his mirror? Or did it fall somewhere between the seats? Maybe he found it and did what I never could, pawning it off for some happily-accepted cash while he laughed at how careless I was to take a stranger's virginity and then leave my expensive diamond ring behind like a fool.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the means to find out.

It's not like I could have wandered up to the FBI building and ask to meet with a Dr. Spencer Reid... Right? Because that as absurd. I'd only met the guy once, and he'd probably think I was crazy for trying to track him down.

It was a whole ordeal that I'd mulled over again and again, and I ultimately decided that it was ridiculous.

If anything I was happy to be rid of the ring. I could move on with my life, and maybe Spencer sold it for money or he's held on to it as a souvenir for a special night.

Win-win.

It didn't dull the small ache I felt for him, though. Every once in a while I found myself remembering how great that night was... I hadn't felt that way—sexy, confident, fun—in a long time, and as much as it sucked that he was getting picked on by some drunk idiots at a bar, I was glad it led me to him.

Some nights, when I was missing him significantly more than usual, I even went back to Waterson's in the event that I'd run into him again, hopefully under better circumstances.

Tonight was one of those nights.

This time I didn't have a ring to keep most of the men from hitting on me, but now that I was well and truly over my ex-husband, I was glad I didn't use that as an excuse to keep the ring around anymore. As annoying and painful as the drunken flirting was, I was way better equipped to handle it and truthfully somewhat relieved that I could get back to normal.

You know, save for the fact that I was only at Waterson's in the first place to maybe see some guy I hooked up with four months ago and still haven't stopped thinking about...

Because that was totally a normal thing to do.

I was on my second beer of the night when I felt a presence behind me. And even though I was pretty sure than I'd be able to tell if it was really Spencer, a part of me still buzzed thinking of the prospect of seeing him here again.

I turned around though, and was met with an entirely different person. I tried not to look disappointed, but it must have shown because the man who'd caught my attention gave a small laugh.

"I'm sorry, are you expecting someone?"

I liked to think that I had a good read on most people, especially when it came to men in bars. This man was someone I looked at for a few seconds and immediately knew that he wasn't looking to make me uncomfortable. He had come over to flirt with me, no doubt, but the difference here was that where most men would have gone straight into it, this man genuinely looked like he was willing to haul ass if I really was waiting for someone and didn't want his company.

That alone made me willing to entertain him a little, even if I was disappointed that he wasn't who I desperately wanted him to be. But it certainly helped that he was attractive.

The first word that came to mind was smooth. Even as I laughed back at the man and answered him, my eyes did some wandering of his figure and admired what I saw. A crisp, tight grey tee shirt that hugged some rather nice muscles, and brown skin that was just a few shades lighter than his eyes, which were kind and a little playful. His smile was stunning, sharing that same playfulness that his eyes held as he practically sparkled to life at my answer.

"Oh, no, I'm not... But I certainly wasn't expecting you..."

I made sure to smile at him, a little smirk that complimented the admiring eyes I was offering him and a little laugh that never failed to get me what I wanted.

He gently leaned into the bar, one of his hands coming to rest of the cool wooden surface. "I'm Derek."

"Y/N."

"Pretty name."

I don't know what made me so bold, but I nodded and shot him a wink. "Not as pretty as you."

We shared another laugh, and then I took a swig of my beer, finishing the last of it and then sliding towards him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"We just met and you're already stealing from me... That's my line."

"What can I say, I'm quick... Hey, Carla! Can I get two more for me and my friend here?"

The bartender—and my longtime friend—laughed a little, taking my empty bottle. "Sure thing."

The look she gave me right before turning away practically yelled, I thought your type was helpless skinny white guys who can barely look you in the eye without creaming themselves...

Yeah, well, you worked with what you were given. And besides, my type was practically anyone with just a shred of decency.

Real high bar, huh?

But after Patrick, I couldn't complain. Derek seemed like the type of guy who would flirt with you at any given chance, but respected your boundaries all the same. Unfortunately that was hard to find nowadays, especially in bars like Waterson's.

So, yeah, he wasn't the man I was naively wishing to see here tonight, but he was into me, he was decent from what I could tell, and he was hot.

So we had a drink and spent a good twenty minutes chatting it up. Since it was my third beer of the night, I was accumulating a pretty steady buzz, and the longer I talked with Derek the more I opened up a little. I found myself leaning into him and finding excuses to lightly touch his arm, but I kept noticing that he was glancing down at his watch occasionally.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked, playfully.

"Right, uh... Yeah, I was supposed to be meeting a friend here. He's usually early, but I think we got our times mixed up again..."

"Again, huh? You two aren't very good coordinators?"

Derek laughed, the sound making me feel all warm. "Well, for FBI agents you'd think we'd be better at it."

"O—Oh," I said, my heart stopping for a beat. Had I heard that right? Was I more tipsy than I thought? "FBI?"

"You seem stunned," he said with another laugh. "What, you're not a criminal, are you? Do I have to take you in?"

I laughed, albeit nervously, but decided that this all had to be pure coincidence. If I didn't, I would have gone insane. Even still, it was difficult for me to sit here and openly flirt with this man when I knew he just confessed to having the same profession as the literal man of my dreams— and as of late that also included daydreams.

In fact, I was positive that's what it was when I saw Spencer approach us— a daydream.

Derek was calling my name, I knew that much, but I couldn't do anything but look over his shoulder where Spencer's ghost practically froze in place when he spotted me.

"Y/N?"

That wasn't Derek's voice. Spencer's mouth moved in time with the calling of my name, and it even sounded like him. I blinked rapidly, hoping that I could snap out of it and excuse myself for the rest of the night, so I could go home and sleep it off.

But even when I finished blinking, expecting Spencer's figure to be gone, he was still there.

At this point Derek had turned around, and what he said next snapped me out of it pretty damn good.

"Reid? You know her?"

"You're real," I said, speaking for the first time in a while. My throat felt dry, and my heart came alive at the sight of him.

Spencer stared at me, his eyes softening after I spoke to him. I saw his lips twitch into a shy smile before his hand came up in an equally shy wave. "Y—Yeah, I'm real." What followed was a huffed laugh that cemented his nervousness at seeing me again for the first time in four months, and it was the most refreshing thing I'd heard in a while.

"Oh my God," I said, a smile of my own starting to creep up.

I'd completely forgotten about Derek being there until he spoke up, snapping us out of our reunion, his voice conveying every range of confusion.

"What the hell is this?"

***

I knew there was always a minor chance that I'd run into her again, but it still rendered me utterly still and practically useless when I spotted her across the bar with Derek.

She was just... there. After months of debating whether or not I should send her a letter with the ring mailed back or stopping by to see her, or even using Garcia's help to find where she might have been so I could 'surprise' running into her... It happened to chance that I didn't need any of that at all. Because she was really there.

And she was flirting with Derek.

I'd have been lying if I said that didn't really bother me, but truthfully I'd always felt a bit insecure around him, mostly when it came to being surrounded by women who were most likely fawning over him instead of me.

Not that I particularly wanted or even needed them to fawn over me in the first place... It was just... Telling.

And it's not like I knew or thought I wasn't at least somewhat attractive. But seeing the one and only woman who'd ever made me feel very good about all of that for probably the first time in my whole life openly flirting with my best friend? It stung. It felt like now that she'd seen me and him in the same place, she'd decide that she'd made a mistake before and that she'd be better off with someone else— someone who was stronger and more skilled and probably easier to look at.

Even when the three of us sat at a booth and Y/N decided to sit next to me, her proximity dizzying after all this time apart, the first thought that came to my mind was, She doesn't want to see me. She'd much rather sit across from Derek so she can look at him instead.

I was starting to think maybe I should have stuck to mailing her a letter...

"So... Are you gonna tell me how you two know each other?" Derek asked, leaning back and easily amused.

Y/N seemed to be amused by all of this, too, because she answered immediately, a tone in her voice that I'd only dreamed about for four months and nine days straight.

"Oh, we were engaged."

If I didn't know any better, I would have thought Derek's eyebrows were going to fly straight off his head. "Engaged? Like... Engaged?"

"I—It's not what you think," I jumped in, suddenly a little embarrassed. "Not really engaged, but... Y/N pretended to be my fiancée once... There were, um... There were these guys who wouldn't leave me alone and she came over and told them off."

I hoped he wouldn't piece it together, but it was inevitable, and the look of realization that crossed his features made me feel extra warm with embarrassment.

"Oh... Is she the reason why you actually said yes to that date last month?"

Y/N turned to me, an eyebrow raised. "A date? Because of me? I don't... I don't follow..."

I was going to explain, but Derek beat me to it.

"I've always tried to set Pretty Boy here up for a date, but he's always said no, and then out of the blue I ask him and he agrees. Which was a shock in its own. I knew something was up, something had to have given him the confidence to go on the date... And all along its been you, hasn't it?"

"Well, I... I don't know, I guess so?"

They both looked at me then, and I stared down at my hands, unwilling to look either of them in the eye. "Y—Yeah... I don't know, I guess Y/N just... helped me see something in myself I hadn't seen before."

I half expected them to think it was silly, but Y/N's hand dropped down onto my knee and I stared at it for a moment before flitting my eyes up to meet her gaze. It was soft, and a small smile grazed her pretty features.

"Oh, Spencer, I'm so glad I could do that for you... How was the date?"

"O—Oh, it... It was fine. Not... I'm not seeing her anymore, but it wasn't bad... Just, um... There wasn't much of a connection, that's all."

In simpler words, She wasn't you.

But I couldn't tell her that, not when she was staring at me again with those sparkling eyes and her hand burning a hole through my pants with her electrifying touch, and most certainly not with Derek sitting right in front of us.

"Hey, whether it worked out or not, whatever you did to get him out there, it must have been one hell of a job," he said as if he'd been reading my thoughts.

Y/N gave me a knowing look, though, and suddenly I was transported to my car, feeling her hand explore my body as she showered me with filthy words and names that set me alight and cemented something about myself that I'd never known. Since then I had dreams about her, telling me how much of a 'good little whore' I was for her, and I always woke up from those dreams clutching her ring around my finger.

"Well, like I said, I'm glad I could help. Your boy here is one in a million."

It was awkward. This was all very extremely awkward. And even though I knew that, I still couldn't bring myself to stop it. I couldn't bring myself to stop staring at Y/N, soaking her all up like she was going to leave again at any given second. I couldn't stop thinking about her, our predicament, what we did and what I discovered about myself back then...

God, I was talking like we hadn't seen each other in years. It was only four months and yet I was acting like she'd left me alone after years of being together. This was ridiculous, right?

Thankfully Derek's phone rang, snapping us all out of the bubble of silence we'd been in for what seemed like forever.

"Uh, I'm gonna... get this. Be back in a few."

I expected Y/N to drop whatever act it was she had going on with me after he left the table, but her hand remained firmly on my knee. And then she moved a little closer, turning to me completely and tilting her head with a smile that only meant mischief.

"So... Looks like we have some catching up to do..."

***

I was practically giddy when Derek excused himself for a "Garcia Emergency". Though, I was concerned until he assured us that it wasn't anything bad, and by the look on his face as he quickly talked things over With Spencer, I got the feeling he was expecting his friend to 'have some fun' tonight. And that's what truly made me giddy.

We sat close to each other again, a few drinks between us and only a few booths away from the one we sat in the first time we met. If it weren't for the rock missing from my finger, I would have been convinced we'd actually transported back to that exact moment.

"You getting Deja vu, Doctor?" I asked with a smile, watching as he swallowed.

"Y—Yeah, kinda. It's great seeing you again, I... I really didn't think I would."

I laughed. "You know where I live, and you're an FBI agent... I'm pretty sure you could have saw me again if you wanted to."

"Well... Yeah, but I didn't want to be creepy or anything..."

"Trust me... If you randomly showed up at my door, I'd be anything but creeped out. I missed you..."

Spencer looked up at me for a moment, his eyes shifting before he seemed to relax. "You... did?"

"Of course... I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met. And I hope that's not creepy," I added in a laugh.

"No, not at all," he reassured with a nervous laugh of his own. "Actually, um... I've been thinking about you a lot, too..."

"Even on your date?"

I'd only meant it as a little joke, maybe another conversation starter, but at the mention he seemed... embarrassed.

"Oh, no, that was... That wasn't really... I—I only really did it to get Derek off my back, it—"

I rested a hand on his arm and smiled gently. "Hey, it's alright... I didn't really mean anything by that, I'm just... I meant it before, I'm really glad you did it. I know you said it didn't really work out, but did you have some fun at least?"

He laughed again, but this time there was hardly any humor in it. "Well, she wasn't you..."

I smiled a bit, but immediately following his words was a wide-eyed terror and instant regret. "Oh, I didn't... I'm sorry, I—"

"So, you did think about me on your date, huh?"

He froze then, presumably at the low, seductive drawl I blanketed over my words. His mouth slightly hung open, tongue flittering behind teeth as he tried to find the right words.

I smiled at him, and then he settled on, "Yeah. I did."

"It's not very polite to think of other girls while you're on a date, you know..." I made sure to let him know I was only teasing, and that I just wanted to know what his reaction would be.

Still, he surprised me when he said, "It's not my fault you're impossible to forget..."

He flashed me a smile then, and my stomach twisted deliciously at the little dash of confidence he'd grown in the past minute.

Maybe I could bring more out of him...

"Okay, fair... But it is your fault that you didn't come find me."

"Also fair... But... You're here now..."

Spencer inched closer to me, and I smiled, taking my bottom lip gently between my teeth before leaning in, too. "How about that..."

Our lips brushed for a second, so gentle it was like being tickled by a feather, and then he spoke again, his breath hot on my mouth. "I've... dreamt about seeing you again for so long now... Kissing you..."

"Me, too," I responded, bringing a hand down to graze the inside of his thigh. "Guess it's a good thing I'm a firm believer that dreams come true."

"Yeah," is all he said before he finally took the initiative to finally kiss me.

I sighed, melting into his touch and tightening the grip I had on his leg. Meanwhile his hands rested at my forearms, fingers dancing experimentally over my skin and making me tingle in their wake. And once I parted my lips, he took his shot and gently brought his tongue out to meet mine in a collision that quite frankly made me throb.

He'd been a decent kisser before, but... It's obvious he's had a little practice since then. Not that I'd have minded either way, but damn if this newfound experience didn't give me the most sinful idea.

I felt him whine as I pulled away, and that made everything even better.

"You wanna get out of here?" I said in the cheesiest way possible. But he didn't seem to mind.

In fact, he nodded rapidly and took a quick drink of his beer before following me out of the booth and towards the door.

***

Leading Spencer up and through the doorway of my house was probably the most electrifying 'date' experience I've had... well, ever. I'd been excited to sleep with people, sure, but with Spencer I found something greater. I wasn't entirely sure what that was, yet, but it was definitely good.

He reiterated that thought nicely once the door was closed and his hands were on my face, bringing my mouth to his again while I dropped by keys and haphazardly threw my phone and wallet on the side-table next to us in favor of gripping his shirt.

Just through his kisses I could tell how much he'd longed for this moment. I know he told me, and I'd certainly understood the feeling, but when it came down to actually acting it out in the flesh, I was much more in favor of that method of communication.

I gladly accepted his wordless confessions, through every groan and gentle graze of his tongue that he offered to me. And in return I gave him sharp tugs of his shirt and hair, conveying my urgency and the need to be closer to him.

When my legs started moving, his did, too, and we reluctantly pulled apart in favor of not tripping up the hard wooden staircase on the way to my bedroom. Though, I was thankful he was in just as much of a rush as I was, because otherwise I probably would have gotten embarrassed.

And that didn't happen easily.

I fumbled for the light switch once the door shut and our mouths connected once again, and I could have sworn it was like something out of a trashy TV show. The thought almost made me laugh, but I held it in in favor of moaning when Spencer lowered his hands to my ass and squeezed, pulling us closer together. I finally hit the light switch and then flow both of my arms to wrap around his neck and draw him even closer.

He was everywhere all at once, and it fueled me. I'd come to miss physical human interaction, but I hadn't realized how badly I craved it until he was right there, taking up all of my personal space and aiding me in creating this perfect recipe of frantic, glorious electricity.

It was going to kill me, and I would have gladly let it.

I experimentally rolled my hips forward and felt him gasp into me, and it wasn't long before he started growing hard.

Good... Now I could set the plan in motion.

"Remember what you told me?" I asked breathlessly before our heads switched sides and leaned in for more kisses.

In between them, he returned, "When?"

"The first time we met..." I trailed my lips down the column of his throat as I continued. "When you said you edged yourself..."

"O—Oh... Yeah, I remember."

"Mmm," I hummed, sucking a mark into his neck for the time being. As I did it, the grip he held on my ass tightened a bit, and I laughed lightly over his skin, slowly licking my way up to his ear. "I wanna see..."

The trembling he provided under my influence was a good sign. And then another came when he whispered. "Y—You want to see... me? Touching myself?"

"Mhmm..." I planted kisses all along his jaw before pulling back to look him in the eye, making sure he knew I was serious when I told him, "But only if that's okay with you."

He didn't even take a second to think, nodding rapidly once more and giving me a flash of a smile. "It's okay."

I hummed happily, leaning forward to give him one huge kiss, long and hard, before pulling away from him completely and nodding towards the bed. "Clothes off..."

Our hands got to work as soon as the words left my mouth.

And it wasn't until my shirt was on the ground and Spencer's eyes remained glued to my chest with trembling hands that I realized, even though we'd slept together before, our clothes had never actually come off. Tonight we were completely baring ourselves to each other, and that was somehow more intimate than the idea of taking his virginity was.

I reached out and grabbed his shirt, gently assisting him in removing it, and it must have snapped him out of wherever he'd gotten trapped because he shook his head and let out a nervous laugh, averting his eyes from me and staring at the ground.

"S–Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for," I reassured, throwing his shirt to the ground next to mine and bringing his hands to rest on my bare stomach, slowly sliding them up. "I like when you look at me..."

His eyes reached mine once again, breath hitching as I guided his hands to cup my breasts over the bra. "Well, I... I like looking at you."

I kissed him again, hoping to bring forth some familiarity to our current routine, and it worked like a charm. Our movements were slow and steady, each article of clothing joining the floor one by one until we were down to nothing but my underwear.

I led him to the bed then, breaking us apart and making him sit. Now that I was taller than him, I gripped his chin in my hand and tilted his head up to look at me.

"Lay back for me?"

He scooted further along the bed until finally he leaned back, his head resting nicely on my pillows. I climbed up after him, kneeling at his feet and bringing a hand down trace lines along the inside of his thigh. Meanwhile I looked him up and down, finally getting a decent look at his full, bare form.

"Ohh, so pretty... And I bet you're even prettier when you're touching yourself... You wanna start?"

He reached out for his dick in answer, wrapping a delicate hand around it and slowly stroking up and down as he looked up at me with the stars in his eyes. "Like this?"

"However you normally do it, baby. Just relax. Make yourself feel good..."

After a slight nod, his hand picked up a little speed. He swiped his thumb over the tip to gather some precum for lubrication, but as hot as that was, I had a better idea.

"Here, let me help," I offered with a smile, leaning down and bracing my hands on his knees. I let spit gather on the end of my tongue before allowing it to drip down and land right on the tip of his cock. The sound he let out, broken and dripping with want, sent a jolt of electricity through my blood, only amplified by how wet he sounded once he started moving his hand again.

I let my eyes roam all over, taking in every heave of his chest, the veins in his arm and hand as he worked himself, the soft fluttering of his eyes as he lost himself in the moment... At the risk of sounding absolutely cheesy, it truly was a magical sight. I felt entirely lucky that I got to see him again at all, and now like this, bare and vulnerable and exuding lust while I was left to my own devices.

All that to say, I hadn't realized I was touching myself as well, until a whimper came from my mouth, my clit gently throbbing with stimulation at the hands of... well, my hand.

Upon seeing me, Spencer let out a whine of his own, picking up speed with his hand and throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"Y/N..."

He wasn't addressing me, wasn't asking me anything at all... My name on his lips was more of a declaration, like some type of chant, a string of letters and syllables formed specifically to bring him closer to the edge he knew he'd have to resist falling from.

"You getting there, baby?"

"U—Uh huh..."

"You better hold it," I drawled lowly, bringing myself into the more strict persona I wanted to bring out tonight, given that's still something he was into. "Just like you promised."

After a few more hard strokes of his hand, Spencer leg to quickly, bringing his hand to rest on his chest as his mouth let out the most delicious whines and grunts of determination to keep it all in. Without the stimulation, I noticed his dick slightly twitching over his stomach, glistening and  hard...

Fuck, if it wasn't the hottest fucking thing I'd ever experienced with my own eyes and ears...

I pulled my hand out of my underwear, too, still a little shocked that I hadn't realized before that I was doing it to myself and a little turned on at the fact that it had that big of an effect on him.

"I—I would have been able to go longer, but... But you were there, and you were... And I only ever have you in my head, not right in front of me..."

It was obvious that he was probably afraid he'd let me down somehow, and that was definitely not the case. So I leaned down and dragged my hands over his lower stomach, feeling inch of skin while my mouth came down to press featherlight kisses to the base of his dick. "Spence, that was hot as fuck... You really think of me when you do that?"

"Mhm," is all he offered, currently reveling in the way my tongue darted out to explore the lines of his cock.

"I think of you, too," I admitted, pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his tip. "When I touch myself... I think about how pretty you were the first time I called you a slut... Tell me, baby, you still like that?"

"God, Y/N, yes..."

I sucked gently on his tip now, watching as he watched me, his bottom lip occupied between his teeth and his eyes on the brink of closing.

He was getting close again. So I stopped, pulling off of him with a soft pop and smiling as I crawled up his body and planted a kiss to his cheek. My legs straddled his hips, and I got close to his ear.

"Tell me, what about this... other girl you went on a date with... Did you sleep with her?"

"Um... Y—yes..."

"I'm willing to bet she didn't make you feel half as good as I do..."

"She didn't..."

I smiled against his jaw, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair. "Was she mean to you? Did she make you her dirty little whore?"

I could feel him let out a trembling breath as he answered, "No."

"That's right," I said softly, right before switching gears and tugging on his hair, pulling back to look in his eyes. "Because you're my dirty little whore."

His cock twitched along my ass at my words, and it made me smile. But before I could speak again, he did it first.

"I'm all yours, Y/N... No one else's..."

I couldn't help it then. His words, our position, the needy look in his eyes as he confessed this to me... All of it was enough to make me snap.

So I leaned in and kissed him, hard. My hands tangled in his hair while his flew to my waist, sliding down to play with the hem of my underwear as his tongue slipped into my mouth and against my own with ease. I swallowed each whine with the greatest pleasure, my hips involuntarily grinding down and spreading the evidence of my arousal along the fabric of my panties. I wondered then if he could feel how wet I was, how much I wanted him.

I didn't have to wonder for long though, because he slipped one of his hands around front and dipped into said fabric, finding how wet I was and groaning into my mouth at the feel of it.

"You've been dying to get another try at this pussy, haven't you?" I whispered into his mouth.

Unsurprisingly, I was met with a whine in return. "Uh huh... I missed you so much..."

I ground down into his hand, nipping at his lips a little before giving my next demand.

"Then prove it."

Rather than fingering me like I expected him to, Spencer rolled over and straddled my legs, tearing my panties down and leaving me with a smile.

"I love the confidence you've grown, baby boy... Proves how dedicated you are... to being the best little slut you can be."

"Yes, Y/N," he responded, leaning down and kissing the inside of my thigh. "I wanna be good for you... Let me show you, please..."

"Show me..."

His tongue came in contact with my pussy, and it immediately sent my head flying back into the pillows, a low whine escaping my throat. He flicked it over my clit expertly a few times before going down and licking a broad strip up the entire area. Vibrations flittered along his path through his groans, and just hearing how much he enjoyed it had me clenching the sheets for stability.

"Ohh, what a good boy," I praised, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair back. "Who's my good little whore?"

He grumbled into me, but I tugged at his hair.

"Say it."

He pulled away briefly then, still in contact with my pussy as he breathed out, "I'm your good little whore..." And then he promptly got back to work, devouring me with a hungry precision that made me laugh.

"Needy, too, I see... So desperate for that cunt..."

"Yes, " I heard him mumble into me. He repeated it a few more times, chanting it as his tongue flicked through me and tasted every last drop of my impending orgasm.

I sat up a little and held his head to me, his tongue moving at a quicker, more relentless pace. My stomach started to twist and my legs clenched, holding Spencer firmly between my legs as my hips rolled forward and met his every movement. Moans fell sweetly off my lips with every second, getting higher and higher until I finally held myself still and let the high take over. His tongue drew out one of the sharpest orgasms I'd ever had, the fervor he delivered making me see stars for a solid twenty to thirty seconds before it finally subsided and my muscles started to relax.

"Fuck," I breathed, almost whining when he removed his mouth from me and just kneeled there, studying my form as I tried to catch my breath. "Get up here," I asked more than demanded, though it might have been hard to tell what with my head spinning.

Spencer climbed over my body and I pulled his face down into a warm, wet kiss that had me tasting myself and growing wet again at the taste. I pulled away then, looking into his eyes and playing with his hair.

"I can't believe you didn't come see me sooner... Depriving me of that pretty fucking mouth..."

He kissed me again briefly, whining into my mouth before I continued. "But no... You were busy going on dates..."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said, kissing my cheek softly, over and over as his lips made their way down to my neck. "I'm so sorry, I... I wanted to see you, I just..."

"I know, I know," I cooed, closing my eyes and relishing in the feel of his lips on my skin. "But tonight you're gonna make up for lost time, got it?"

"Yes... Yes, I'll do whatever you want..."

I hummed, bringing his head back up to meet his gaze, and my thumb stroked over his bottom lip. "I want you to put that pretty cock to good use and fuck me like the desperate little slut I know you are..."

I kissed him then, gasping out once he shifted his hips and entered me slowly— I knew he was going to get to it quickly, but I guess I'd underestimated his need to please me.

The sentiment had me curling with want, more of it coming when he bottomed out inside me and trembled. Really, I could feel him shaking as he started to pull out and then back in, setting a steady pace that would surely become more erratic once I started talking to him again.

"Shit..." Spencer cursed, shifting up on his arms for more leverage as he steadily drilled into me. "I m—missed this... Missed you..."

"I know, baby, I know... I missed you, too... And you know what else?"

I drifted one of my hands down in between us, spreading out my fingers so that his cock fit nicely between them as he fucked me. The added friction of my fingers had him whining out, dropping his head down so that his ear was right by my mouth.

I whispered. "So did my pussy... So you better fuck her good..."

The sudden brutal velocity in which he slammed his hips against mine felt like a strike of lightning, and the loud groan he let out against my neck was the thunder. Everything shifted then, Spencer lifting himself up and holding onto my legs as he drilled into me at full force, his body glistening with exertion and my own succumbing to his wind.

"Yeah, that's it," I cooed through a laugh of pure pride. "That's a good fucking whore... Giving me that cock like I own it..."

"Y—You... do," he stuttered through a broken whine. He was getting close again, and I knew just the thing to do the trick.

I reached my hand up to hold his neck, not applying any pressure, but just holding as I forced his eyes down to look at me. "That's right... That slutty cock is mine... Now give it to me..."

The end of my sentence was punctuated with a sharp cry out as another orgasm tore through me. I shouted Spencer's name into the abyss as He fucked me through it and started twitching inside me, signaling his end as well. And the added warmth from his cum as it coated my insides well and truly marked me as his, despite the words we'd just exchanged.

I belonged to him just as much as he did to me, and I wondered if he knew that. If he knew just how much he inhabited my every thought.

I wanted him to know that I was practically infatuated with him.

But that conversation could wait until after we were... settled down.

He was still inside me as he slumped forward, laying his head on my chest and rubbing lines into my forearm.

"You okay?" I asked gently, combing through his hair with my fingers.

"Most definitely... Just... tired."

I smiled, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You're welcome to stay here for the night..."

He was silent for a long while, almost so long that I thought he'd actually fallen asleep. But then he said, "Right here? With you?" and my heart soared.

"Of course."

Truthfully, I'd have let him stay forever.

But when I opened my eyes the next morning, the other side of the bed was cold, and his body was nowhere to be found.

***

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry for leaving you alone last week. I know you must be a little hurt and confused, but if you aren't, then just forget I ever said anything.

Nonetheless, I regretted leaving you behind last time without at the very least sending you a letter, so I hope this one finds you well. After all, you have shown me experiences I never could have imagined enjoying as much as I did, so I should thank you for that.

But that's not all that this letter is for.

I also want to invite you out to dinner some time. I know this might be a little unconventional, but given how we met and also how we reunited, I figured this would be a fun, romantic way to ask you out. I understand if you don't feel that way given that I've more or less abandoned you twice now, but I promise it was all for good reason.

If you'd like to talk more, about anything I've disclosed in this letter, I've attached my phone number below, otherwise I'd love to hear back from you. I know this sounds strange, but I've been dying to know what your handwriting looks like. I bet it's pretty, like you.

Once again, I am truly sorry for leaving you behind without a word, but I want a chance to make it up to you. Please say you'll reach out. Otherwise, I know where to find you if you'd rather I make some cheesy romantic comedy—esque gesture of affection that either makes you fall in love with me or hate me.

Yours, Spencer Reid

***

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[tiaragqueen]

Paroxysm

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Shinazugawa Sanemi x Maid! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,6k+

✂ Trigger Warning: Implied possessive behavior, death, violence, blood, injuries, yandere theme

[Edited]

***

I like his hairstyle and clothes, and I’d like it even more if he’s given a moment of happiness.

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“If life's standing still and your soul's confused, and you cannot find what road to choose. If you make mistakes, you can't let me down. I will still believe.” - At Your Side [The Corrs]

The war had long ended, and yet, the toll it left was still felt until today.

Being the daughter of the housekeeper who had been residing at Ubuyashiki estate since her early adulthood, you were already familiar with the existence of demon slayers and their stringent training, including the pillars themselves. Though, your knowledge of the latter was superficial at best. You only learned bits of their backgrounds, motives in joining the Corps – which, to your relief, were all noble unlike some slayers who only entered for the money – and combat styles. Your interaction was limited to some of the friendlier ones, such as Kyōjurō, Shinobu, Kanroji and, to some extent, Uzui.

Of course, you weren’t, by any means, despised the quieter ones. You occasionally had a lighthearted talk with Himejima and once shared a peaceful moment with Tokitō, whose death rattled you greatly for its macabre circumstances.

And yet, for some unknown reason, you ended up with Sanemi instead.

Perhaps, it was the pity that compelled you to work for him. After all, he had lost his remaining brother in the cataclysm of war against Muzan and his subordinates. Indeed, Sanemi might be the least amiable pillar, but he wasn’t a horrible person to be around. As long as you were mindful of his mood and not caused an unnecessary ruckus, Sanemi would treat you civilly.

Besides, he never really lashed out to you, anyway. Even when he was still in the Corps, and you happened to slip before his eyes, he would silently help you whilst muttering something about your clumsiness.

Overall, he was as aloof as he could be around females, and you delighted in that ‘mellow’ side of his.

Peeking through the doorway, you spied Sanemi in his usual spot on the porch and smiled slightly. It was relieving to see him become one with nature instead of wringing every last drop of stamina through incessant training. You slipped out and quietly kneeled beside him, respectful of the appropriate distance to avoid disturbing his restless equilibrium.

“Good afternoon, Shinazugawa-sama. Do you need something?” you asked cordially.

Sanemi merely stared forward as though he refused to acknowledge your presence, but you knew better. After the war, he had grown more sullen and distant to the point of ignoring the people around him, almost echoing Giyū himself. An inexplicable pang pervaded your body at the abject sight, and how it wouldn’t likely to change anytime soon.

It was a good thing you had experiences of housekeeping, otherwise, you might’ve incited his infamous ire with your callowness.

You shifted a little on your spot, dismissing his silence for rejection or dismissal. “Would you like a cup of tea? Or ohagi?” you pressed.

“… What’s your intention?”

Cocking your head, you hummed questioningly.

Sanemi slowly turned his head towards you, pale eyes attempting to discern your true motives.

“People don’t find me nice at all, and yet, you chose to work for me instead,” he explained, squinting slightly. Ah, so he did realize. “Are you pitying me?”

When you offered no response, he scoffed knowingly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think I can’t take care of myself? Why do you think I chose a small house for me?” he huffed. “I don’t need help from anyone.”

“But you accepted me.” you murmured.

Sanemi snapped his head in your direction. “What the hell was that?!” he growled.

You flinched. “I... I just want you to know that I understand your feelings.”

“You fucking know nothing!”

Cold fear throbbed your heart and rendered you motionless. Sanemi gradually recomposed and withdrew from the abrupt proximity of his face with yours, instead opting to direct his ferocious glare to the fence again.

Looking down to your lap, you slowly exhaled the anxiety.

“My father… He was killed, too. He was on the way to home after chopping some woods when he met a demon in the forest. I was a baby at that time, and we were very poor. It wasn’t until my mother met Ubuyashiki-sama did she finally have a stable job to feed us both.”

The recollection softened your gaze as you traced patterns on the floorboard.

“You’re right, Shinazugawa-sama. I know almost nothing about you aside from the general stuff, and I’ll never know the depth of your feelings. I don’t even know other pillars very well, and we often chat. But the grief, the sadness you’re feeling… I felt it too, and I still do sometimes.”

You took a deep breath and blinked away the tears that leaked through your lashes.

“Regardless of your opinion, Shinazugawa-sama, I’ll continue to support you. I can’t fight, and I don’t know how to wield a sword properly, but I hope my assistance can be of any comfort for you. We don’t even have to converse if that’s what you want. Just treat me like you usually do and I promise I won’t disturb your affairs.”

Sanemi was quiet through your story and retained a similar state when you bowed to him.

“I shall buy some red beans in the market. Please, excuse me.”

The market was animated as always. Children frolicked around while their mothers were preoccupied with bargaining and buying necessities. After fulfilling the task at hand, you decided to replenish your energy by strolling and observing the village. The advantages of working for Sanemi was the relative ease in maintaining the house than Ubuyashiki estate, and Sanemi himself wasn’t at all bothered to find you resting after completing your duty.

Some extra time for yourself was always a blessing, and you were glad to know that you’d picked the right choice.

“Why you look at that; a fair maiden walking alone in the forest.”

You blinked out of your trance and spotted a group of rugged men intercepted the beaten path. Assessing the looming danger, you mentally cursed yourself for getting distracted and warily retreated.

The tallest man, who you presumed to be the leader, hummed mockingly. “Where are you going, dear? The sun’s about to set, you know? The demons will come soon, so why don’t you join us? We’re on the way home.”

“I know that.” you snapped, keeping a cagey eye in case one of them decide to strike first. “And no, thank you for the offer. My master’s waiting for me, so I need to go now.”

A whiff of body odor clogged your nose as he began to advance, deliberately cornering you against a tree. “Aw… Surely they won’t mind me if I borrow you for a sec, right?” he cooed, clasping your chin in his rough fingers.

“… Like hell, I will.”

The neck that moved his revolting face closer to yours suddenly broke. Sanemi landed a few meters from you, his back facing the man who collapsed right before your very eyes. The sword you’d seen him holding and polishing regularly despite not being a slayer anymore trembled with barely restrained passion, the tip glinting under the fading sun.

He raised his head and smirked diabolically. “So, which one of your fuckers wants to move first?” he challenged.

When nobody dared to step forward upon sensing the egregious bloodlust practically radiating from his form, he grinned.

“No one? Well, that’s just too easy.”

His abrupt disappearance sparked dread within everyone’s chests, yours included. Your eyes frantically darted from one tree to another, hoping to catch a glance. Where was he? Was he leaving you? No, no, that was impossible. Why did he even bother to kill their leader if he would just leave you later? Besides, as bad as his attitude could be, Sanemi wasn’t the type to leave things half-assed.

So, where was he–?

A faint breeze hit the man furthest away from you. Your jaw slacked when Sanemi manifested behind him and swiftly sliced his head clean. The next person wasn’t able to react fast enough before Sanemi dropped to one knee and killed him. Granted, he was comparably leaner than the rest of his ‘companions’, but the sight of your master effortlessly slit his abdomen was just… appalling.

How hideous would it be if he were to face demons? You couldn’t even grasp the extent of his raw strength.

Sanemi rose to his feet in a single twirl and stabbed another man on the heart whilst kicking the last one unconscious. The deplorable man crumpled once Sanemi yanked the sword from his chest, and you would’ve joined him too had the tree wasn’t there to support you.

For a split second, you were glad that the leader tried to corner you earlier.

Under the setting sun, Sanemi merely stood among the bodies, chest heaving and sword bloody. You gazed at his back, reluctant to speak yet felt an uncontrollable need to state the obvious.

“You killed them.”

Gripping your kimono, you continued. “Y-you do know that they’re humans, right? Not demons…”

His silence skyrocketed your nerves. Finally, after a minute that dragged on for eternity, he opened his mouth.

“Anyone who hurts us is demons in my eyes.”

You withdrew against the bark as though it would hide you from his vacant yet penetrating look.

“Do you understand? Some humans aren’t all that different than demons. There's no point in pitying them.”

Sanemi sheathed his sword and nonchalantly walked past you, ignoring your stunned silence. “Wipe that pathetic look off of your face and let’s go home,” he demanded.

“B-but what about–?”

“The demons will eat them. Now, hurry up if you don't want to be their next meal.”

With a heavy heart, you averted your gaze from the massacre before you and nodded obediently.

“Yes, Shinazugawa-sama.”

Above, the moon gradually erased any trace of light from the view.

[lavalampelfchild]

Lava’s Art Masterpost

Hey, all!  Welcome to my art masterpost!  I have no idea if this is a thing that is done typically for art, but oh well, I like organizing things, so here we are!  What you’ll find here is mostly Dragon Age, with a few non-DA pieces in there, and there’s a range of styles I like to use, depending on my mood.  But a lot of what you’ll see will most likely combine lineart with some other form of coloring/shading.

Feel free to browse at your leisure, and I hope anyone who stumbles upon this enjoys what they find! :D And thank you to anyone who sees this and likes, or reblogs, or even just stops by to peruse a bit!  

All that said, away we go!

Digital Portraits:

1. Portrait of Nameless Woman, 2020 - This one is just an experiment with a watercolor brush that I did.  It’s not anatomically perfect, but I enjoyed playing around with shading.

2. Sketch of Aja Amell, 2020 - This one is basically sketch practice with my Amell~  Not really the most expressive pictures, but it’s a start toward drawing her more expressively.  Full disclosure: Aja is one of those OCs of mine that I have had trouble with deciding on a definitive appearance for several pictures, and I really want to work on upping my level of consistency when drawing her.

3. Long-Haired Fenris, 2020 - Exactly what it sounds like; this was for practice drawing Fenris’s features (I love how distinct they are), but with long hair because I am weak for it.  This one was a fun piece to shade, and mixing the stylized lineart that I normally use with a greyscale shading spectrum was really enjoyable.

4. Portrait of Ilorin Lavellan, 2016 - This is an oldie.  Basically practicing expressions, and it is technically a WIP, but I’m still very happy with how the shading turned out, especially because this is actually (aside from the unfinished hair) one of the more minimal pieces I’ve done in terms of lineart  It’s still there, and it still shapes the flow of the picture in some ways, but it also ends up flowing with the shading instead of standing out next to it, which I like.  (Both styles are good, though, and I love seeing other artists try both too.)

5. Old Portrait of Aja Amell, 2016 - Much older picture I did of Aja; she... honestly looks very little like the newer one, I think, and that consistency is something I’m still working on, but this one was the first picture of Aja with that particular hairstyle I drew.  What I like about this picture is how young she looks; it fits with her image as a fresh and sheltered Circle mage who’s only about 20 years old at the time of DAO.

6. Old Portrait of Trilyn, 2016 - They very first piece of art I posted to tumblr~ It’s not exactly how I envision Trilyn anymore, but it was still very fun to draw, and helped me get a feel for drawing him in the future. 

Dynamic Movement Pictures/”Moment’s in Time”:

1. Tabris in Arl’s Estate, 2020 - TW: blood.  I am super proud of this one.  My ultimate goal is to draw all of my Warden DAO OCs, and I could not believe I’ve never drawn my Tabris, and so here she is.  This was, in large part, practicing expressions because I absolutely love art that depicts characters in motion, or capturing some kind of expression.

2. Velyn in the Rain, 2017 - This one was actually based on some art that I saw in a Teen Wolf fic!  It was an experiment with a more expressive style (and one of the first pieces I did without lineart left in the finished version) and it was a huge step out of my comfort zone.  But overall, I am extremely happy with how it turned out.

3. Jem Nocking an Arrow, 2016 - And here is the lineart version.  This was entirely an excuse to draw my DAI baby, Jem, and to do a cool archer pose because archers are my fav, and I love characters in motion.

4. Solas Teaching Trilyn Fade Magic, 2016 - This one was a painterly picture that was also (like the Velyn picture) something which I tried to keep lineart out of.  Overall, I am proud of a lot of parts of the pic, but I think I would definitely go back over it and change a few things now if I had the patience.

5. Trilyn Closeup WIP, 2016 - TW: injury, blood, mention of abuse in the author’s note.  A lot of early pictures I have are of my OC, Trilyn, and this is one of my absolute favorites.  His entire upper body is technically in the picture, but I hadn’t finished rendering it yet, so this was what I posted.  And it was an experiment with a cross-hatching style with the pencil tool for some texture, with air brush shading and a blurring tool.  It’s a style I had fun playing around with!

6. Trilyn Blood Ritual, 2016 - TW: blood, injury (the slight cut used to supply the ritual with blood).  This one was definitely a sort of “captured moment” from a backstory I gave Trilyn, and I think what I was really going for was an atmospheric piece that could fit with any potential fic I wanted to write for Trilyn.  And then it ended up being practice for extreme lighting/shading techniques, and drawing the blood and the gross mass of demon ichor (or whatever the heck that is) turned out to be highlights of making the piece for me.

Art + Text:

1. Freedom and Control, 2020 - TW: scars, but very difficult to see.  This one was ambitious for me!  It started originally just as Solas and my Tal-Vashoth OC, Saara, facing each other, because I love the dynamic I’ve built for them in my head, but then it turned into an attempt at a tarot-esque background, and just sorta grew from there... Overall, I’m happy with how it turned out, especially with how Solas and Saara themselves turned out.  The version you can actually see a larger view is here.  

2. Marianna and Delia Codex and Art, Pt. 1, 2020 - I love writing my own codex entries, first off, and I love combining art with text to create a (hopefully) seamless work.  This work was an attempt to flesh out these OCs of mine with both art (because unique facial structures are hard for me to get down, but so important regardless) and text (because writing~).  I think it turned out well overall, but there are elements of the portraits that I might at some point touch up a bit.

3. Marianna and Delia Codex and Art, Pt. 2, 2020 - Part 2, with what I refer to as a “DAI Outfit Change” because I have always loved seeing fans show their own OCs as they look in DAO, DA2, and then finally DAI.  So I absolutely wanted to jump on that bandwagon myself.  The skin tones are a little off (and I’m sorry about that!) because I was playing with the watercolor brush at that point, and it dilutes the colors I use.  Still working to figure that out, but I was very happy with the overall lineart and structures of the faces.

4. Alistair/Aja Amell Picture with a Blurb, 2017 - Ooooold, old, old, old, OLD!  I still love the art, and I’m soooo happy with how the interaction between Alistair and Aja turned out (drawing kisses is extremely difficult for me; I always end up creating a distorted weird lip-creature, instead of realistically puckered lips...).  I’m not as happy with the blurb that went with it?  At that point, I was still very much figuring out my own DAO worldstate, and the characterization for everyone, so, eh.  Take it with a grain of salt!

Unfinished Costume Designs:

1. Ancient Elvhen Armor with Dwarven Influence, 2018 - People who do costume design work are amazing and mystical beings, and I wish I could do what they do.  This was an attempt at merging the Keeper robes from DAI with a more dwarven armor aesthetic, solely because I created an ancient elvhen character, Ceda, who was taken in by the Cad’halash dwarves mentioned in the Witch Hunt dlc, and I wanted this character to have a mix of the elven style of armor and the dwarven style.  I’m overall decently happy with it, but there’s still that persistent level of self-criticism present.

2. Herald of Andraste Outfit WIP, 2016 - This was a very old picture, not one I showed around a lot, but the idea for this was entirely born of my intense interest in how fashion and outfit designs could be used to create a symbolic image for the Herald of Andraste.  In general, I love the combination of ceremonial armor with long and flowing cloth, so that was what I went for here.  I’m still actually very proud of how this came out, and headcanon something similar for my Herald in my canon DAI worldstate.

Pencil Sketches:

1. Quick Saara Sketch, 2019 - TW: saarebas mouth scars.  Exactly what it says; very quick sketch of Saara I did in a small notebook I carry around with me.  This was basically a test for myself to see if I could manage to draw Saara with the features and facial structure I envisioned for her without needing to use a lot of references.

2. Mass Effect Character Sketch; Jesse, 2018 - Similar reason for drawing this one as the above Saara sketch!  With these characters, I love sometimes the way they can turn out with the specific character creator used for them, and when I draw them, I enjoy trying to create a definitive look for them using what I get from the CC, and my own knowledge of Hooman Faces.

3. Saara Sketch, 2017 - TW: saarebas mouth scars.  A more detailed sketch of Saara than the one above, and one I definitely put more time into overall.  It’s currently the profile picture I’m using for ao3, and is the definitive go-to reference picture I use whenever imagining Saara in a fic, or for other Saara pics I make.  I am extremely proud of this picture, and feel like I should work in graphite more often.  It’s such fun, and the texture is so nice to look at.

4. Sketch of Nameless Alamarri Woman, 2017 - This was a sketch I did of what I envisioned some Alamarri tribes to look like; I used artistic depictions of Gaul tribes and hairstyles for inspiration, and have used this as a go-to reference for my version of Alamarri tribes.  Nothing super notable about this one, but I really liked the way the shape of her face turned out.

Events and Gifts:

1. Another Scar, 2020 - TW: blood, injuries, gore.  The most recent piece of art on the list, and a gift for @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold; featuring sisterly love between Rica and fem!Brosca, which was her requested prompt.  This was a tough piece for me because of the difficulty with the lighting I dealt with.  For some reason, that one particular element of it gave me so much trouble.  Overall, I’m very happy with how it turned out, though, especially the skin tones of the sisters; Brosca I always sort of like as having this greyish, more gaunt look to her, while Rica I like seeing with a darker, richer, and warmer tone to her.  

2. A Very Cousland Christmas!, 2019 - This was for a holiday exchange for a server, and I drew a friend’s Cousland (Elissa, the girl on the left) with my Cousland (Gazza, the girl on the right).  I love kid-fic, and I love kid-art, and so I decided... baby Cousland art!  Drawing kid proportions was the toughest part, I recall, and I thiiiink it turned out well, and I’m still quite proud of it overall.  Elissa’s design came entirely from my friend, but I added the holly~

3. Exchange Gift with Dis Brosca and Mabari, 2018 - This was an exchange gift for @fanfoolishness, using her lovely Dis Brosca, and was my first real attempt at backgrounds... I struggled with the coherence of the foreground and background a bit, but I’m still very proud of how it turned out, especially with the colors I had to work with.  What I also really enjoyed working with was the lighting and the expression on Dis’s face.  Backlit subjects are always fun to play around with!

4. Inktober Picture, “Deep”, 2017 - TW: scars, injury, mentions of abuse in the author’s note/attached dialogue snippets.  This was for an Inktober prompt (the only one I’ve ever done, sadly... because I am bad with deadlines...), and again features Trilyn.  Trilyn’s backstory has him a former slave in Tevinter, and a lot of the early works I do for him are sort of deep-dives into his life there.  It’s all meant to be an exploration of the things he endures, and then those moments when he overcomes it all and takes back his own autonomy and self.  This art is definitely provocative, and I can understand if not everyone likes it, but to me, I just wanted to show just what he faces (without glorifying it) before showing the moment of his own triumph.

5. Christmas Holiday Picture with my Brosca and a Friend’s Amell, 2017 - This was a piece of art drawn first by a friend of mine, @nanahuatli~  She drew the Amell, the background, the mistletoe, etc.  All I did was add my Brosca to the mix to finish the image.  It was a lot of fun to do, 1) because it was fun trying to match her style so that the picture looked cohesive, 2) because I love doing collabs with friends, and 3) because it was just such a fun thing to imagine my surly short Brosca, looking at this weird plant/fungus/thing dangling over some puckering human!  It was an absolute joy to do this collab with her!  

6. OC Kiss Week Pic of Jem and Saara, 2017 - TW: saarebas mouth scars.  A spur-of-the-moment thing meant to demonstrate just what kind of dynamic my OC, Jem, has with my other OC, Saara (both of whom are members of Leliana’s network in DAI).  This was a very quick picture (deadlines...) and was mostly just to have fun drawing these two characters interacting, and to see if I could make them look like themselves.  I think I did a decent job with it overall, especially with Jem’s kissy-face!  (Again... drawing kisses are the bane of my existence, although hands and feet take a close second.)

[oikirstein]

𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙱𝚘𝚢 | 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

Synopsis: In a universe where the world is seen through a black and white lens until you make eye contact with your soulmate for the first time, Kiyoomi Sakusa’s life changes after he starts seeing in color subsequent to his match with Inarizaki.

Warnings: Major character death

Posted: 11/13/2020

Word count: 1,341

A/N: I decided to settle on somewhat of an uploading schedule so everything is nice and paced out, so most likely, I will post new chapters on Fridays at 7 PM/PST. Also, sorry if this chapter seems short. I’m running on 6 hours of sleep, and I felt like doing mostly dialogue.

After the week of training camp had come to an end, I finally found refuge in the silence of the cab I took home from the facility. As much as I loved the sport, I too needed a break sometimes from the echoes of the volleyballs that radiated throughout the gym, and I especially needed a break from hearing Atsumu’s voice. Which is why I groaned so loud after picking up the phone and hearing that loud-mouth blonde once again. It hadn’t even been an hour since we all parted ways from the gymnasium.

“Oh my god, Omi-kun, you answered!” I swear I could feel him smiling through the phone.

“How did you get my number?” It was at this moment, that I regretted not turning on silent for the rest of the duration home.

“I asked your buddy...uh...Komori was it?”

“He’s actually my cousin,” I didn't need to tell him that information about me. I don’t know why I did either, it slipped out of mouth so naturally that I didn’t notice until I already said it.

“Well then your cousin knows what’s up!” Atsumu laughed.

“Is there any reason you needed to call me? We have no reason to be in contact anymore. Camp is over,” I said through gritted teeth. It was a phrase rendered as a pain to be spoken, but I had to remember where I drew the line.

“So, Omi-Omi, I’ve been thinking about us—”

“Us?”

“Well, about the fact that we’re soulmates and shit, you know?”

“Mhm...” I didn’t like where this was going. The pit in my stomach was growing more and more intense as I awaited what he was going to say next.

“How about we go on a date?”

Huh?! My whole body went numb at his words as my fingers lost the strength to grasp onto my phone. It slipped out of my hands and wedged itself right in between the seat and door.

“Hello? Omi?” Muffled phrases such as these were all that could be heard from...wherever the phone was hiding. Digging around until finally finding it, I grabbed a bottle of spray hand sanitizer from my gym bag, and spritzed the screen clean before placing it back to my ear.

“Sorry, I dropped my phone. Can you repeat what you said?” Maybe I just heard him wrong.

“Me. You. Date.” 

Oh ho ho, it was loud and clear now. He just can’t take a hint, can he?

I said, “no,” almost immediately.

“Aw, Omi-kun, why not. Surely you must think I’m handsome enough to go out with.”

“Doubt it.”

“Ah ha! Doubt? You think I’m cute, don’t you?”

“No, ew, you're gross,” I imitated gagging noises through the phone and the cab driver looked at me through the rear view mirror with concerned eyes, “cooties.”

“Cooties? What are we in? Elementary school?”

“Might as well be in that mindset when I’m talking to you,” I chuckled. Oh so now I’m making jokes too.

All I could hear from the other side of the line was suspicious giggling.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just find it hilarious how this conversation has nothing to do with volleyball, and yet you still keep it going,” the cocky setter could no longer contain his laughter by the time he got to the end of his sentence.

“You know, I’m one button away from hanging up right now.”

“Omi-Omi wait! Don’t hang up!”

“Why not?”

“You haven’t answered my question yet, duh.”

“Which one.”

“Oh my gosh, Omi, it’s like you don’t even pay attention to anything I say.”

“I try not to,” I smirked behind my mask. The car ride was almost over.

“So mean, Omi-kun!” he paused and took a breath, “Anyway, will you go out with me?”

As he finished his statement, the cab pulled up right outside my house. While resting my phone in between my ear and shoulder to free up my other hand, I gave the cab driver the money, and thanked him as I exited the vehicle.

I exhaled, standing before my front door, bags in hand and phone still sitting between ear and shoulder, “no,” was my final answer before I hung up and walked inside.

“Hey Kiyo, how was the camp?” said my father, who was yelling out greetings from the kitchen.

So noisy. Why even bother with the formalities if he was about to go right out the door anyway?

“It was fine,” I replied back, already half way up the stairs.

I felt a buzzing in my pocket as I entered my room and set my bags down onto the floor. I checked who was calling, and of course, it was none other than Atsumu. Did the “A” in “Atsumu” stand for the “Annoying Miya twin?” I let the phone ring as I took my mask off and put my things away. When the vibrating finally ceased to buzz, I sent Atsumu a quick text.

“Gonna take a shower.”

It was no surprise that by the time I finished bathing, my notification wall was overflowing with spammed messages.

“Omi-kun, hurry up!”, “What kind of answer was that?!”, “Such a tease, Omi-Omi!”, and “Are you done with your shower yet?” were just a few of the texts he sent me. Sooner than later, he started calling once more.

“Finally! Omi, you take forever to respond,” is what he said in practically one breath, the second I answered the phone.

“I literally told you I was going to take a shower.”

“Nevermind that, give me your real answer. Go on a date with me, yeah?”

The smile I didn't know I was wearing slowly faded from my face.

“I’m serious about what I said at the training camp, Atsumu.”

“What? That you don’t believe in the whole soulmates thing?” it was completely audible that he too, had lost the laughter in his voice. The mood was becoming far too uncomfortable.

“I don’t believe you,” Atsumu half-chuckled, trying to rid the air of the tension that was slowly suffocating the two of them.

“What do you mean?”

“You said it yourself. I know you can see the colors too. I know you know all about that god awful tracksuit your school makes you wear—”

“Excuse me, Mr. Piss For Hair, it isn’t that bad,” I cut him off. I was right of course, because at least at the end of the day I could take my clothes off...his hair on the other hand...was not something that could be so easily replaced.

“P-Piss for hair?” he scoffed, “I’m hurt, Omi.”

“You’re the one that picked that color, didn’t you?”

“I’m going to ignore what you just said and continue.” I laid down on my bed while listening to him explain, “That’s like saying you don’t believe in the rain.”

“How so?”

“It happens right before your eyes, and you still don’t think it’s true. Unbelievable! Smells like trust issues to me,” a tender laugh escaped his lips, and I could almost hear him smirking on the other side of the line. I mean, he wasn’t wrong.

“I’m sorry, Atsumu, I just don’t think it’s possible for someone to be tied down because of...fate or whatever you want to call it,” I sighed, but then added, “Also, you have zero game,” as a last minute thought.

“Me?! I have no game?”

“Yeah. Even if I did buy into this whole destiny thing, I would not swoon by being asked out over the phone.”

“Just you wait, Omi-kun,” he broke out into a sing-song voice, which almost resonated as a melody in my ears, “I’ll show you just how good my game is.” Surprisingly, Atsumu giggled and then hung up the phone himself. 

His last words stayed encompassed in my mind. Did this really mean so much to him, that he was willing to put in the effort to win me over? Oh, how I wish it were that easy to give in to selfish desires, but at least one of us had to know where our boundaries lay.

Previously

Next

Masterlist

To be continued...

Taglist:

@hearteyesfortobio​

[thinkyoureholy]

Fragile Figures [5]

.

.

.

Pairing : Choi San / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Mafia! AU, Hired Assassin! AU

Words : 4k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

-San's P.O.V-

It had been a few weeks since I started staying here and...it's been one hell of an experience. The guys took awhile to warm up to the idea of me being here but within two days they had accepted it...all but Yunho. He hated having me here. I had an inkling as to why but I wasn't too sure yet.

"San get up here! I have a name for you!" 

My ears practically perked up at hearing her call out for me, my legs already carrying me up the stairs before she had a chance to finish. I knocked on her door before opening it, seeing her sitting at her desk, Yunho standing behind her as he looked over her shoulder at the papers sprawled over the surface of the desk. She looked up at the sound of the door opening, the smallest hint of a smile ghosting over her lips when she met my gaze. The sight of the smile, no matter how small had my heart racing. 

"Who is it this time?" I asked, acting as if my heart wasn't beating like someone who had just run a marathon.

"The mayor. He's trying to blackmail me to do his bidding in the upcoming elections." She said, looking back down at what I could now see was a blueprint laid out on her desk.

"Haven't you helped rig elections before?" 

"We have but only when we get paid for our time and resources...not when we're being forced into it." Yunho cut in, crossing his arms over his chest, an annoyed look in his eyes as he spoke.

Y/N leaned back in her seat, placing her feet up on the desk, a sly smile on her face, "That old man just dug himself his own grave. It seems he still doesn't know who he's dealing with."

The look in her eyes caused a shiver to travel down the length of my spine. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself under control but she was making it difficult. Fuck, if only Yunho wasn't here right now. Now that I think about it she never did bring up what we talked about that day, not that I expected much. But I was able to sense something different coming from her since then...she seems a lot more relaxed. I had always noticed that whenever I was around she would be tense but now, now she was as relaxed as ever. I guess I should take that as a good sign.

"Mr Choi!"

I snapped out of my thoughts, a frown forming on my face at the formal calling. I looked around the room in confusion, noticing Yunho was no longer in the room. She chuckled at the look on my face, a playfulness in her eyes that had the frown leave my face almost immediately.

"I told you not to call me that." I said, borderline pouting.

She grinned, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the desk, "If you wouldn't zone out like you have the tendency of doing I wouldn't have to call you that. Now, pay attention and come here. You need to know the layout of this building so you don't get yourself into trouble while you're there. I want you to come back in one piece."

A smug smile tugged at my lips at her words as I made my way over to her, planting my hands onto the desk and leaning forward ever so slightly, "Are you worried about me, darling?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she sat back, "As if. I'd say it'd be my lucky day if you never came back."

I smirked, not letting her words get to me. I know she didn't mean anything by them, "So what's the plan here?"

"They're holding a private banquet to celebrate his win in the upcoming elections."

I furrowed my brow, looking up at her in confusion, "But the election isn't for another few months…"

She nodded, leaning forward once more, our faces mere inches apart but she wasn't looking at me, she was staring down at the blueprint, "He's already getting ahead of himself with the elections. He knows if he gets my help it's next to impossible to lose. But I'm not about to help some bastard who dared to try and blackmail me."

She looked up, meeting my gaze. My breath hitched in my throat at the look in her eyes, my teeth biting down on my bottom lip subconsciously.

"So you want me to lure him out and work my magic?" I asked, my voice lower than I intended.

She gave me a mischievous smile, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly, "Nope. I want you to kill him right then and there. I want everyone attending that party to see the blood spill out of him as he takes his final breath."

Fuck. Why is this turning me on? Why does she seem even sexier when she has that dark look in her eyes? Why am I thinking about fucking her so good she forgets about everything else and the only things she remembers is my name? I'm falling down a dangerous hole here and she's not making it any easier for me. If she keeps this up I won't want to drag myself out now or ever.

"Don't you think I'd be at risk of being arrested? I'm sure that place is going to have heavy security…"

She shook her head, "I have faith in your ability to flee the scene. I mean you've been doing this for so long and you haven't been caught once...I'm sure you can get yourself out of a bind when you need to."

I poked my tongue out to lick my lips, a grin playing at my lips, "I don't know...it seems pretty risky to me."

"Are you not up for the challenge?"

I hummed in response as I bit down on my bottom lip once more, my eyes scanned over her face, lingering on her lips before meeting her gaze, "Ah, so it's a challenge? What's my prize then?"

She frowned, her bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly. I grit my teeth to control myself, swallowing the groan that wanted to crawl it's way out of my mouth.

"Prize? The money I'm going to give you is your prize…"

I shook my head, leaning forward, "I don't think money is enough for this job. In fact you can keep your money...I want something that's worth more than all the money you can offer me and then some."

"And what's that?"

I smirked almost cockily as I leaned in further, my lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. I watched her shiver at the feeling, a chuckle falling from my lips. It's good to know I'm affecting her just as much as she's affecting me.

"You."

……

I chuckled to myself, rubbing my chest. She had one hell of a good punch I'll give her that. Maybe I did go a bit overboard but the look on her face was well worth it, the blush that spread across her cheeks was a nice bonus. 

“And what are you laughing about?” Mingi asked from across the room.

“Nothing.”

He scoffed, sharing a look with Wooyoung. Wooyoung simply shook his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Are you done getting ready? It’s been twenty minutes already...we’re going to be late.” Wooyung muttered, sounding slightly annoyed as he leaned against the wall behind him.

“Patience fellas. One doesn’t look this good without putting in a little effort.”

I looked at myself in the mirror, adjusting my suit jacket. I ran my fingers through my hair, making sure it was perfect before turning to them with a grin. They only gave me a frown, a heavy sigh leaving Mingi’s lips as he rose to his feet.

“Let’s go. I want to get this done quickly so I can go to sleep...I haven’t slept in days…” Mingi said with a yawn, Wooyoung pushing himself off the wall to follow after him but they both stopped at the sound of my voice.

I had been meaning to ask but it had slipped my mind while I was getting ready. Now that we were heading out I was reminded, “Wait. This has been on my mind since she told you two to come with me. Why are you two allowed to go to this banquet and the others aren’t?”

“No one knows our faces yet. We’ve been with the others for around three years but in those three years we haven’t had much to do besides train so the people Y/N usually deals with don’t know who we are.” Mingi explained, looking over his shoulder as he opened the front door.

“So all you guys did for three years is train?” I questioned, my curiosity getting the better of me as I walked over to them.

Wooyoung turned his body slightly to face my properly but he didn’t stop walking, “Yeah. Y/N didn’t want us to get ourselves killed when we went out for missions so she had us hone our skills. I think she said something along the lines of ‘I’m responsible for you now and I’m not too keen on burying you two so quickly after having just recruited you’ or something like that.”

I stayed silent after that. She must really care about them, so much so she’ll have them watch on the sidelines if she thinks they’re not ready. Now I understand why she did what she did with Kanda. Before I was just coming up with excuses but now...I can see she truly sees them as family...one she needs to risk her life to protect. But if she’s protecting them...who’s protecting her?

-3 hours later-

I groaned as I sat down, blotting the blood off my face. Wooyoung and Mingi had just gone up to inform Y/n that we had returned. I had made my way into one of the rooms downstairs, knowing this is where they kept most of their medical supplies. I leaned back against the chair, loosening up my tie as I tilted my head from side to side. I sighed out heavily, looking down at the now bloody towel. I underestimated this job. Sure I made it out alive but just barely. I was lucky enough to walk out with just this scratch on my face and a few bruises on my body.

"San!"

I looked up at the sound of my name, my eyes widened in shock at the sight I was greeted with. Y/N stood in the doorway, breathing heavily as her eyes scanned my entire body. She wore a simple tank top and shorts, her hair a disheveled mess but she had never looked more beautiful than she did in that moment. I was rendered speechless as she walked over to me on quick legs, slamming the door behind her. My breath hitched in my throat when she reached over without a word, her index finger and thumb grabbing onto my chin gently. She frowned, her fingers ghosting over the skin around the cut on my cheek.

"If he wasn't dead already I'd gut the old man myself." She mumbled, her words making goosebumps form on my arms.

"It's just a scratch…" I let out under my breath, reaching up to wrap my fingers around her wrist.

Her frown deepened, her thumb skimming over the skin of my cheek, "Wooyoung said you almost-"

"But I didn't. Look, you told me to come back in one piece and I did. This isn't a big deal so don't worry about it alright." I cut her off, my tone coming off harsher than I intended.

I thought back to what happened, knowing it could've gone a lot worse.

-2 hours ago-

I looked around at the women eyeing me, shrinking away from them internally.

"Careful now, San. These women look like they're ready to eat you alive if you let down your guard." Mingi joked, slinging an arm around my shoulders.

"Y/N has some competition I see." Wooyoung chimed, joining in on the teasing.

I scoffed, unable to hide the look of disgust in my eyes, "These women are nothing compared to her. I'm insulted on her part that you even spoke those words."

Wooyoung chuckled, "Well before you try and fight me I'm going to go stand by the door, secure our way out."

"I'll be scanning the area. Look out for my signal for your opening." Mingi said, slapping my back with a heavy hand before leaving as well.

I winced, rolling my shoulders back before looking around. I was able to spot the mayor pretty quickly. He was surrounded by other politicians but he mostly had younger women hanging off his every word. I rolled my eyes at the sight, gold diggers. 

I kept an eye on him as I made my way over to the little bar they had, ordering a glass of whiskey on the rocks. In less than a minute I had my drink, giving the bartender a nice tip for being so quick. I offered him a small smile before turning around, leaning my back against the bar as I continued to watch the mayor.

About half an hour had passed and I was already starting to get bored. I had gone through at least three glasses of whiskey but not even the alcohol was helping my boredom. About five women had come up to me in the span of thirty minutes and each time I sent them back on their way. Some were a little more persistent but they eventually left me alone when I told them to piss off rather harshly. I just wanted to get this job over with and get back to the house. Every minute spent here was a minute I could've spent with Y/N. With that in mind I downed the last of my whiskey, setting it down as I stood upright, fixing my suit jacket. I pulled out my phone, calling Wooyoung and adding Mingi to the call.

"I'm getting bored. Let's get this job over with so we can leave."

"You and me both pal. Who would've thought a party with this many women could be such a bore…" Mingi muttered out in annoyance.

Wooyoung chuckled at our words before agreeing, "The exit is all clear so whenever you're ready San. Mingi get your ass back over here."

I hung up as soon as he finished talking, seeing Mingi's tall figure make its way over to where Wooyoung was. I ran my fingers through my hair, making my way over to where the mayor was now. I shoved my hand into my pocket, feeling the switchblade in my pocket. It wasn't my usual dagger but it'll have to do. I waited until they were distracted laughing at something before running the small distance towards him. 

They were all caught off guard, some gasping in surprise when they saw the blade in my hand. I was too quick for any of the guards the react, grabbing onto the collar of the mayor's shirt, bringing him in closer.

"You chose the wrong person to try and blackmail...Y/N sends her regards." I said lowly, slicing open his neck.

I heard the screams of the people around me as soon as they saw his blood. I closed my eyes for a moment, wincing at the loud screams. Pocketing the knife once more I made a run for it, hearing footsteps following after me. I cursed when the footsteps got too close for comfort, feeling them just an arm's length away.

"Stop!" 

I groaned when I was tackled to the ground, immediately fighting the man who tried to restrain me. I was able to keep him from restraining my arms, sucker punching him in the face and kicked him off of me. I scrambled to my feet, seeing Wooyoung and Mingi begin to make their way over to help. Shit, if they get caught or hurt in any way Y/N will kill me.

"No! Go, get out of here!" I yelled, dodging a punch from one of the other guards, giving him a right hook.

I looked around as they gathered around me, one talking on a walkie-talkie. I discarded my suit jacket, throwing it to the floor as I rolled up the sleeves of my white button down shirt. I rolled my shoulders, getting into a fighting stance.

"Alright...who's first?"

-Present Time-

I shook my head to rid myself of the fresh memory. Just thinking about it had the bruises on my body throbbing again.

"I'm fine Y/N, really. I'm more than thrilled that you're this worried for me but I'm honestly okay. It could've gone a lot worse but it didn't. So don't stress your pretty little self out by worrying." I said softly, my hand squeezing her wrist ever so slightly in reassurance.

She said nothing for a while, staring down into my eyes. She frowned at seeing the smile on my face, "I'm starting to think I shouldn't give you any more jobs...then I wouldn't have to worry about you so much…"

I beamed up at her, my heart skipping a beat, "So does this mean you care about me? You wouldn't worry so much if you didn't care about me...even just a little."

"What the hell are you so smiley for? It's not that big of a deal. You're one of us now… of course I care about you." She mumbled, looking away as she said that last part.

I stared up at her, my smile widened at the small blush that coated her cheeks. She's warming up to me, that's good. Now all I had to do was control myself until she made the first move. I couldn't steal a kiss from her or anything of the sort, not since the first one I stole. But...that didn't mean I couldn't give her a little push...right? With that in mind I tugged on her wrist. She fell forward at the sudden pull, her forearm resting on my shoulder as she held herself up on the chair with the other one. Our faces were so close I could feel her breath fanning my cheeks.

"San what are you-"

"Is that the only reason you care about me? Because I'm a part of your little group? Or...is there something else...something that makes you care about me a little differently than the others?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I stared up into her eyes.

My teeth sunk into my lower lip when I saw that she wasn't meeting my gaze, instead, her eyes seemed glued to my lips. I groaned low in my throat when she stuck out her tongue, swiping it across her lip quickly. I wanted nothing more than to ravage her with my lips but I held back, waiting for her to move.

"Y/N-"

My words were cut short by her lips. Fuck me, this was so much better sober. I leaned forward to deepen the kiss only for her to push back, her hands cupping the sides of my face gently. She swallowed the groan that left my mouth when she swiped her tongue across my bottom lip, asking for access and I gladly gave it to her. Our tongues fought for dominance but instead of actually pushing for it I let her have it. Having her like this was turning me on more than I could've ever imagined and I wasn't about to ruin her fun. I was taken by surprise when she sudden straddled my lap, her hands leaving my face to play with the buttons of my shirt before she began to undo them one by one. My own hands had a mind of their own as they groped her ass, pulling her closer as I jut my hips up into her clothed core. I felt my dick twitch in my pants when she moaned into my mouth, her fingers brushing over my now bare chest. 

"Mm...uh darling...if...if you don't stop now then-" I started when she trailed her lips down my jaw, her mouth sucking a mark onto the side of my neck.

"Then what? Huh? What's gonna happen if I don't stop?" She questioned seductively, grinding her core against my growing bulge.

I threw my head back, a loud groan falling from my lips at the feeling. Fuck, if it felt this good already...I wouldn't be able to control myself when I'm actually inside of her. Just the thought of it had my dick twitching in my pants.

"Shit...I'm gonna fuck you so good and hard you won't be able to walk out of this room on your own." I said in a low voice, watching as she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip.

She opened her mouth to say something but she never got a word out, Yunho's voice cutting her off.

"Y/N? Where are you? I need to talk to you, it's important." 

I could hear the urgency in his voice so I'm sure she heard it as well. She had begun to move to leave but I stopped her, holding her in place. She looked back at me with a confused look in her eyes, her fingers combing my hair out of my face.

"San, I have to go…"

I wanted to tell her to stay, beg her not to go to him...but I knew I shouldn't. So I kept my mouth shut, my arms loosening around her so she can leave like she wanted to but she stayed put. Without a word she leaned forward and recaptured my lips in a kiss. This kiss was different than the ones we had shared just moments before, this one held more passion. I leaned further into the kiss to deepen it but that's when she pulled away. She grabbed my face in her hands gently, planting a soft lingering kiss on my cheek. She pulled back, her eyes scanning over my face for a second before she finally got up, walking out of the room. I stared at the door as she closed it behind her, sighing heavily as I ran my fingers through my hair, painfully aware of the problem she left me with.

I couldn't help but chuckle as I looked down at my very obvious bulge, "So close…"

With another sigh I adjusted myself and pulled out what was left of my shirt from my pants. I left it how Y/N left it, unbuttoned. I stuffed one of my hands in my pockets and walked out of the room, heading to the kitchen. I paid Yunho and Y/N no mind as I grabbed a bottle of water. I leaned back against the counter as I took a sip of water, my eyes unable to stay away from her for too long. As I looked at her I could feel a pair of eyes glaring daggers at me. I looked away from her to see that it was Yunho. I stared back into his dark eyes, watching an emotion swirl around in there that I knew very well. I wasn't able to hide the smirk that tugged at my lips as his eyes darted from Y/N to me. His eyes visibly darkened when he finally connected the dots, seeing both our disheveled appearances. His jaw set, the anger and jealousy oozing out of him as he no longer paid any attention to what Y/N was saying. 

Ah...it seems the suspicions I had over why he didn't want me around were correct. Well Jung Yunho…I'm sorry to have to be the one to break it to you...but I'm not going to let Y/N go anytime soon.

[regolithheart]

Love In The Time of Coronavirus: Chapter One

Summary: One pandemic, one lake house, and two people who loathe one another. Will they be able to survive the outbreak...and each other?

MASTER LIST

Read on AO3.

---------------

CHAPTER ONE:

Nesta Archeron tapped her pen against her notebook wondering how much longer her conference call was going to last.

“Okay, team. Sounds great. Hopefully this thing will end soon and our lives can get back to normal. We’re eager to break ground,” a voice crackled through the line. “Send us the package when you’re done.”

“Will do. Thanks everyone.” Nesta clicked off the call before anyone else had the chance to respond. She could see her friend and desk neighbor shaking her head. 

“You really have a way with words,” Amren said, playing with the heavy ruby earrings dangling from her earlobes. 

“I hate conference calls.” 

“And here I thought you were just eager to get on the road.” Amren’s smile was feline. 

“Don’t remind me. I’m thinking about calling Feyre and cancelling. I’d much rather stay in my own home, get my work done, and avoid having to talk to a single soul for two weeks.” Nesta began shoveling the contents of her desk into her work bag. “At least then something good will come out of this pandemic.”

“Don’t put me down as your emergency contact when they find your body a month later, half-eaten by feral cats.”

Nesta leveled her grey eyes at Amren. As if she’d ever put anyone down as her emergency contact. She was the type of person who didn’t believe in emergency contacts and was offended that Amren thought otherwise.

“Besides,” the tiny woman said, flipping her jet black hair. “You make it sound like you’re being shipped off to Siberia. I would kill to be quarantined in a house on Lake Velaris.” 

“You’re more than welcome to come. I’m sure there is plenty of room.”

Amren eyed her friend and smirked. “Tempting, but I need to go home and take care of Varian.” She held up her cell phone. “Some idiot assaulted him when he was trying to help an old lady at the grocery store.  Can you believe these people?”

Nesta knew exactly what people were capable of and the fact that everyone was running around with no reins on their stupidity in a time of panic did not come as a surprise to her. 

“Is he okay?”

A wicked smile spread on Amren’s face and her eyes gleamed silver. “Oh he’s okay. He’s just using this as an excuse to get me to dress up as a nurse.”

“Okay, goodbye!” Nesta shoved her laptop into her bag and heard Amren cackling behind her as she walked through their nearly empty office.

As she strode past the glass cube that was her principal’s office, she nodded her head to indicate she was leaving, but he waved her over. 

Devlon Cerny was still waving her over while he nodded his head into his phone, “Right, right, right.” 

Nesta suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She leaned against the door, another glass panel, waiting for his call to end.

“Well listen, we’ve been through this with our China and Southeast Asia offices months ago. I’d like to think we’re better prepared in this situation than most architecture firms.” Devlon nodded again. 

Nesta glanced at her phone, wondering how much longer he was going to make her wait.

“Yep, we’ll continue to coordinate with the consultants. Thanks, Tamlin.” He finally turned his eyes onto her. “How’d the Carver call go?”

“What, don’t you trust me?”

Devlon gave her a pointed look. “Of course, I do. I still want to know how it went. I’m in charge of ops for this office, aren’t I?” 

Nesta relented. “Business as usual. They signed off on the master planning package and we’re full steam ahead on block F. Whose available on the viz team for renderings?”

“VR?”

Nesta shook her head. “We’re focusing on the commercial tower right now. A couple of exterior shots and some lobby and amenities spaces.”

Devlon thought about it. “I’ll let you know.”

Typical.

“Anyone but Eris.”

Devlon snorted. “I’ll let you know.” She knew he hated when she gave him orders. “You headed out now?”

She nodded. “Unless you need me to stay.”

Devlon shooed her away with his hand. “Go see the sisters. And stay safe out there.”

Nesta made sure he saw her rolling her eyes this time. “Anyone but Eris,” she reminded him before turning around to leave. She heard him half-scoff and half-laugh as she retreated. 

She flipped her phone back and forth between her hands as she waited for the elevator to take her to the parking garage. It would be so easy to send a text to her sisters, telling them that she changed her mind—that she wouldn’t be joining them on their isolation at the lake. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to stand hearing the hurt and disappointment in their voices when they’d inevitably call her, demanding a reason. It didn’t matter that they’d be with their respective boyfriends and Nesta would be left to talk to Feyre’s boyfriend’s cousin who barely hid her disdain. Or one of the family friends, the one who barely said a single word, or the other one, who—

Ding!

The elevator doors slid open, distracting Nesta from her thoughts.

---------------

Nesta stood in front of her bed, trying to decide between the two sweaters in each hand while her sister, Elain, kept her company on the phone.

“How much clothes are you bringing?” 

Elain hummed, her voice on speaker. “Between the two of us, I think we have four suitcases.”

“Four?!” Nesta thought that was absurd. 

“Well… we don’t know how long this thing will last, do we?” 

Nesta could just imagine Elain crossing her arms defensively.

“I’m sure there will be a washing machine.” She folded the grey sweater and tucked it neatly into her suitcase. 

“Yes, but…you’ll need a couple of bathing suits and some nice dresses…”

“Elain, we’re going to be in quarantine, not throwing dinner parties. And who is swimming in the lake in March?”

“I think Feyre said there was a heated pool…or was it a jacuzzi? And you don’t have to be so…practical all the time. What’s wrong with wanting to dress up every now and then?”

Nesta snorted. There was no one she needed to dress up for in that particular group—not that she believed in dressing for anyone but herself. 

“And how many grey sweaters are you bringing?” 

Nesta looked down at her suitcase and threw a glare at her phone.

Elain’s voice was much more cheerful after Nesta’s silence. “Nes, promise me you’ll bring at least one bathing suit, one nice dress…oh! And some work-out clothes. Feyre says there is a gym. I need you to show me your arms routine.”

Nesta sighed, “Elain, you do realize that I’m going to be working most of the time, right? This is not going to be a vacation for me. Maybe I should just—“

“Don’t you dare think you can worm yourself out of this, Nesta. You’ve already promised Feyre and me and what do we say?”

“An Archeron never breaks her promise.”

“That’s right!”

Nesta sighed again. 

Feyre had come up with the brilliant idea three days prior. Her boyfriend, no, fiancé owned a house on Lake Velaris and with the pandemic racing it’s way across the globe and people beginning to self-quarantine, it was only a matter of time before it was a mandate and not a request. 

And Feyre, always making lemonade out of lemons, decided that if they were all going to be quarantined somewhere, it might as well be together and on a beautiful lake. The phone calls were made, plane tickets were booked, and arrangements were set.

Nesta had flat out refused when Feyre had called her sisters from France. 

“But we’ll be together,” Elain had said. 

“With five other strangers.”

“They’re not strangers.” Feyre had said through a sigh. “You’ve met them all, numerous times. I’m marrying Rhys! They’re going to be my family…and yours.”

Probably sensing Nesta’s anger building, Elain had pivoted the conversation. “Nes, Feyre’s flying home to be with us. We haven’t see her in three months.”

“She was the one who decided she wanted to live in France for a year.”

“For art school!” Feyre’s voice had gotten high-pitched.

Ever the diplomat, and referee between Nesta and Feyre, Elain spoke gently. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that we should be together.”

“Fine,” Nesta had finally relented. 

If she was going to be cooped up in a house with seven other people, it might as well be a big house where she could hide if need be, and knowing Rhys, the house was going to be huge.

“What time is Feyre’s flight?” Nesta asked as she dumped the contents of her suitcase out on her bed to reassess, given Elain’s new parameters. 

“Not for a couple of hours, I think.”

Nesta frowned. “Isn’t it a ten hour flight from Paris?”

“I think they’re taking some new jet that gets you there in half the time.” Elain’s voice grew soft, as if she were unsure of the facts.

That’s how it always was with Rhys. Nesta never knew if half of the things he said were true or not, mostly because they just seemed so unrealistic or unbelievable. It always irritated her when she was proven wrong. Still, it was easier to believe that he was a grifter lying about being rich than accept the fact that he was actually the sole heir of his father’s multi-million dollar real estate empire. 

“I hope they bring goodies. Would it be horrible to ask for a box of macracons from Laduree? I should text Feyre now!”

Nesta shook her head as she rearranged items back into her suitcase. Elain would be happy to know that she had room for two dresses and Nesta was also pleased she was able to squish another sweater in before zipping the whole thing up.

“How many books are you bringing?” Elain asked, knowing her sister too well.

Nesta eyed the tote bag crammed full of books sitting by the door. “Not that many.”

“Good! We’re going to have so much sisterly bonding time that you’re going to get sick of me by the end of this whole thing!”

“Never.” Nesta looked around her apartment longingly, but after hearing the excitement in Elain’s voice, she lifted the phone and suitcase off the bed, heading to the door. “Are you sure I can’t pick you up?”

“I’m sure. Graysen should be getting off soon and I know you hate my music choices.”

It was hard to argue with that one.

“If you don’t mind waiting, you could ride with us,” Elain suggested, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

The truth was that if Nesta and Graysen were to be locked in a confined space together for the whole ride, no one of them would not make it to Napa alive…and there was a very big possibility that Nesta would end up being charged for murder. They all knew this, but it still never stopped Elain from trying to force Graysen and Nesta to get along. 

“Thanks for the offer, but you know how I hate sitting in the back seat.”

“Okay. Call me if you need anything. I’ll see you soon.”

---------------

Six and a half hours later, Nesta pulled up the gravel drive of Rhys’ lake house. To call it big would have been an understatement. The house was actually a mini-mansion which stood two stories high, but also had a ground level cut into the sloping hill next to it and she had a feeling she was only seeing half of its actual size from her viewpoint.

The sun was beginning to sink below the edge of the lake, causing the windows to glitter with the reflecting light and Nesta had to admit to herself that it really was beautiful. 

She turned off her ignition and looked around. She had expected Feyre to bound down the porch stairs to usher her inside, but the house sat quiet. And with the sun fading, she thought it was odd that there wasn’t a single light on in the house. There were no other cars that she could see besides her own and a beat up truck with peeling paint on its tailgate.

Perhaps it was a maintenance man, or gardener. Even with the woods at its doorstep, the house still had a manicured lawn and enough of a garden that Elain would swoon over the roses and an hydrangeas swaying happily in the breeze. 

Nesta grabbed her phone to make sure she got the right address. She was certain that she had, but she was starting to get an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, and that was when she saw the missed call and texts from her sisters. 

She almost didn’t want to read them.

01:03 Feyre: The airport is packed. Gross.

01:03 Elain: Don’t touch anything! Wash your hands!

01:22 Feyre: Flight is delayed. Don’t worry, Rhys is trying to find us a charter.

01:24 Elain: Keep us posted.

Nesta shook her head in disbelief as she scrolled down to the bottom of the text window. 

04:58 Feyre: No one’s flying out of Paris and London’s due to cancel all their flights.

04:58 Elain: So you’re stuck in France?!?

04:59 Feyre: For now, yes.

Nesta’s knuckles were turning white from clutching her phone. She tapped the play button on Feyre’s voicemail, one that she clearly left without allowing Nesta to pick up.

“Nesta, don’t be mad. We’re doing everything we can to get home. Rhys is calling in all his favors. It’s going to be okay. You’ll be with Elain and you can call me at any time—we’re heading back to the apartment now. I’ll call you if anything changes. Stay safe.”

Nesta could feel the heat rising from her chest and crawling up her neck as she punched in Elain’s number.

“Nesta! Don’t be mad!”

She had to take a deep breath. “Where are you?”

The two seconds of silence immediately made Nesta want to bare her teeth.

“We…haven’t left yet.”

“Elain! I offered to give you a ride. I even left work early! And now Feyre…”

“I know! I know, Nesta. Don’t hate me, but Graysen had some things he needed to finish up at the office and it’s already so late. We’d be lucky if we got there before midnight. But don’t worry! We’re going to drive up first thing in the morning.” 

“Why didn’t you call me when you knew Feyre’s flight was cancelled?” 

“I knew you were driving and I didn’t want you to be upset. Are you there now?” Elain’s voice went small. 

“Yes. I’m sitting in the drive way with no way to get inside because both my sisters have abandoned me.” 

Elain sighed, “We didn’t abandon you.”

“No? How am I getting inside the house? I’m all alone.”

Nesta could hear Elain’s breathing on the other end of the line, it was quick, almost…nervous. She narrowed her eyes. 

“Elain?”

Elain’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Well… you’re not entirely alone…”

Nesta closed her eyes and breathed out of her nose, trying to calm herself. She had felt that sense of doom all day. She should have listened to it—should have turned around on the highway and headed back to Los Angeles all those times her body was telling her too. But she ignored those warning signs—didn’t know what the universe was trying to warn her about.

But she knew now. She knew even before looking, knew before Elain said the words out loud.

When she opened her eyes and looked out her window, standing there, with his arms folded across his broad chest and a shit-eating grin on his face, was the very last person on earth Nesta Archeron wanted to be stuck in quarantine with. 

And his hazel eyes gleamed with delight.

[petitprincess1]

Good Evening Ch10 (Let’s Kill Tonight)

AO3 Link Summary: Alastor goes to wreak some havoc at the warehouse on two unsuspecting guards. How fun :) Words: 2,155 Warning:Warning: Mild gore (at least I think it's mild), violence, blood, amputation (not detailed), death, gun use, burning, and implied cannibalism. ~~~ Alastor had used the backdoor to leave outside of the house, since he heard Charlie getting interrogated by her mother and knew that Lilith seemed to be a shrew lady. The last thing he needed to do was be caught by her, since he knew that she was much more aware than she appeared, especially if Lucifer was any indication. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if they were fully aware of all that he had done.

No matter, this was something that could be dealt with on a later date. Plus, he wasn’t dense. The creole left a note explaining that he had left something in a previous motel that he stayed in or possibly at the Happy Hotel. Whether or not, they’ll believe it is nothing that he had to worry about at the moment. 

Alastor went into his car and looked at his phone, seeing if Husk had responded to him. The man had been around Angelo the longest and may know his password, especially since he’s in charge of keeping track of the guests. Granted, he would be making grand assumptions about his Anthony, but...they were necessary at the moment.

A vibration on his phone caught his attention and Alastor checked the message.

Husker: Why the fuck do you want to know his password? Alastor: Ah! You do know it! Thank goodness that you remain one of my, if not the most, predictable of my friends, Husker. Also, that information is unnecessary. Husker: Any info from you is fucking necessary. Now, what the fuck do you want with it? Alastor: Nice to see your vocabulary remains as limited as usual. If you must know, the ethel had gotten attacked recently and I need to get into this phone. I need to know who hurt him.

As he pulled up into the hotel, Alastor didn’t receive another text from Husk. He assumed that it was going to take a bit more persuading, but he ended up seeing Husk walk up to the car. Al rolled his window down and was about to give a cheeky comment, but Husk tossed a torn piece of paper into the car. He huffed, “Shut the fuck up before I change my mind about you givin’ a shit about anyone. Just leave me out of this. I don’t need to be wrapped up in your shit again. Also, do what you gotta do now and give me the phone afterwards.”

Alastor pouted, “Awww, but what if I need more information?”

The older man rolled his eyes and said, “You won’t. You never were one to forget. ….I’m only doing this for Angelo, not for you. I figured he would be in some deep shit hearing about Val’s death. Just...give them hell.”

The creole grinned coldly up at Husk and chuckled as he typed in the password, “Oh...I plan to.”

Alastor parked his car into the forest nearby and saw an abandoned warehouse about a couple of feet away. Luckily, the plant life was so thick and unkempt that it kept himself fairly hidden. He moved as close as he could without causing too much rustling and saw that there seemed to be at least two people on guard. Seeing them speaking to each other, Al hummed as he moved closer to the miscreants to hear their conversation. The creole truly hated being left out of the loop.

Once he was close enough, he listened to the tanned one complain, “...I’m just saying, man. There ain’t no point. Why do you think it’s just us? No one wants to come to some damn forest. They’re all busy with their, like, ouija boards and...switches...and, I don’t know, jeweling. Stuff like that...look, I got kids, man. I don’t want to waste time with this shit.”

The one that was greying glanced at him and sighed, “You’re a fucking moron. Also, just because there hasn’t been anyone, doesn’t mean that no one will be here. Plus, you think Tony’s family is gonna let Vox off easy. Ya saw how he was when he left. Barely was able to walk. It was surprising watching him start driving-” That was more than enough to assure Alastor that he was making the right decision, not that he had any doubts.

He went back to his car and opened up his trunk. Luckily, he had brought his bag, but he only planned on using his knife for this occasion. No need to set up traps, much harder to clean up the mess. There’s always a stray drop of blood that you always miss. Not to mention that it’s absolute hell to clean in-between the teeth of a bear trap. Al closed his trunk- no, he slammed his trunk as loud as he could, instantly making him hear the two get alerted. Just to add extra flare, the brown-skinned man tossed rocks in two different directions to gain more attention.

Alastor listened to the two whisper to another and scarcely watched them walking toward the forest. Luckily, the woodland was already so dense that he barely needed to hide. These people were just making it so easy for him ~~~ The greying haired man was slowly walking around the woods with a hand on his pistol, ready to pull out his weapon whenever it was deemed necessary. Other than Vox and Val’s crew and a few other associates, no one knew about the location. Well, the forest was pretty well known, but hardly anyone in Eden would go near it. He assumed that it was probably a bunch of kids, thinking that they might be brave or searching for an urban legend or whatever.

Normally, they were told to shoot whoever trespassed, no matter the excuse. However, if they were just kids or teens, the man had no problem with just letting them go with a warning or even threatening to shoot. He was a part of the mafia, but he wasn’t a monster.

The grey haired man jumped at hearing rustling in a bush nearby. He took his gun out and didn’t take the safety off as a just in case. He called out, “Alright, come out slowly and you won’t get a bullet in tha…” He trailed off as a bunny came hopping out from the bush and its little nose twitched up at the guard. The man chuckled, leaned down to the bunny’s height, and whispered, “Hey, don’t worry, buddy. I ain’t Elmer Fudd. You’re safe with me.”

The grey haired man placed a finger to his lips and shushed the rabbit, causing the little guy to bounce away. He gave another laugh as he pocketed his gun and turned to go find the other guard, just to suddenly let out a gurgled, cut-off scream as a knife got embedded halfway into his throat. He trembled as blood slowly came out his mouth, while he choked, staring at a mixed man with a wide smile on his face.

The guard placed a hand weakly onto the well-dressed attacker’s wrist and was about to pull, but the attacker chided, “Ah-ah~! I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It’s actually far more damaging to pull the knife out, since it tends to cause even more damage. Not a lot of people know that~”

He then winked at the greying man and sliced further up his throat, until he got to the bottom of his chin. The man’s tongue flopped out from the large gash in his throat as blood poured down his neck. Alastor was quick to place his jacket on the forest floor to catch the blood that poured out of the victim’s throat. The guard uselessly tried to stop the bleeding by weakly covering his throat and forcing his hanging tongue back into his mouth.

Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, it did absolutely nothing and the man almost fell to the ground. Thankfully, Alastor was there to help settle the guard onto the ground and slowly placed him onto the jacket. He hummed as he grabbed the jacket and started to drag the man through the forest with one arm, looking at his knife with the other. Al gave a small lick to the blood and small bits of skin on the blade.

He muttered as he licked his lips, “Not bad. A little greasy, but that doesn’t mean it has to go to waste. Why, I bet your tongue would be great in an omelette. Using the right spices, you can easily make it taste like beef! What a wonderful treat to say “thank you”!” 

Al kept going on and on as he dragged the dead man back into the warehouse. ~~~ The other guard came walking back into the warehouse when he saw smoke coming from a window. He just assumed that the man put on the large furnace to stay warm. It was pretty cold, after all. He called out to the other man, “Artie, you here? I didn’t see anything! I’m guessing it was just a squirrel or…”

He trailed off and dropped his gun when he saw Artie lying on the ground on a jacket with his throat flayed open, exposing many ligaments, veins, and large chunks of meat. There also seemed to be Artie’s tongue inside of a container that had bloodied water inside of it. The guard covered his mouth and was about to turn to run, but he let out a loud scream as his achilles heel got sliced, rendering his foot useless and making him fall to the floor. He whimpered as he tried to quickly crawl away, ignoring the agonizing, searing pain on his heel and the sound of light, quick footsteps near him.

Alastor walked in front of the guard, causing the crawling man to look up at him. The guard whimpered, “P-Please, d-don’t kill m-me!”

Al crouched down and hummed with a large smile, “Well, you know, I would love to do that, but you hurt someone I really cared about. I-I mean, if you did this to send a message, then...message received” he took the knife out of his pocket and stabbed it through the man’s arm, causing him to scream in pain and tremble more on the ground. Tears ran down his face as his screams made his throat raw. 

The guard whined, “Pl-lease, I-I didn’t d-do anything! I-I-I didn’t e-even be-eat the fa- Gah!”

He cried as he got a punch to the face, which that pain paled in comparison to anything else. The creole’s smile grew wider to an almost insane degree as he practically growled, “Don’t...finish that word.”

Alastor looked up at the furnace and huffed as he grabbed the knife and yanked it out of the guard’s arm. The man bit his lip, trying not to cry out more. He gave shuddering whine and tried begging again, “P-Please, don’t kill m-me! I have k-kids, m-man, and a-a wife. I-I swear, I did n-nothing to th- ..An-nthony! Please!”

The creole ignored him as he stuffed the corpse into the flames of the large furnace, breathing in the smell of the quickly burning flesh. He was about to turn to the other man, but jumped as a loud bang happened behind him and felt something graze his cheek. Al blinked as he slowly turned to the man and saw him turning to cock the gun, struggling with his injured arm. He quickly walked over to the guard and stomped on his slashed ankle, snapping the bones and causing a loud wet tearing sound to reverberate throughout the warehouse.

Before the guard could do anything, Alastor grabbed the gun and tossed it away. He huffed, grabbing the man’s uninjured leg and began dragging him away, “I was thinking about letting you live, since I don’t particularly enjoy harming children or hearing their annoying cries. However...now, I need you dead for attempting to kill me! I mean, how rude.”

The guard pleaded as he dug, “No! PLEASE! DON’T! HEEELP! HE-” He got cut off as Al picked up the man and tossed him into the fire on top of the slowly burning corpse. His smile got smaller as it turned more into a relieved one, feeling a sense of catharsis at hearing the guard’s blood-curdling cries as he struggled to get out of the flames.

The creole closed the door to the furnace and left the door open to allow the wonderful aroma of burning cowards stretch throughout the place. He hummed along with the guard’s futile cries, took the tongue in the container, and any evidence that was around, he placed it into his bloodied jacket.

He could leave the tongue at the front entrance, but why leave any clues. Alastor wanted them all to never know what will happen next, just like how his dear Anthony went in unaware. He didn't get to kill the people he was looking for, but it certainly was a start. Al smiled, “Very entertaining, indeed~”