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christopher-bangnaldoskzz · 4 months ago

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This is 1000% a rewrite of this series, I read through it recently to refresh my memory of the story and I actually died a little inside knowing this is how I wrote 3 years ago 😅 I deeply apologise so please this is my redemption post.

Soft Dom Bangchan x Female Reader Sub!

Genre: Dark Romance

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: No warnings yet, however, I am going to say this is strictly 18+ MDNI fan fiction.

Summary: In a world where submissives crave dominance and dominants seek out their submissives, a thrilling tension brews when deep emotions start to intertwine with binding contracts. What happens when the lines blur between desire and duty? Can a contract stay just a contract when the flames of passion ignite? As love weaves its way into the dynamic, are they prepared to face the tumultuous journey of balancing hearts and agreements? The stakes have never been higher—will they surrender to love, or will they fight to keep it in check?

A/N: would also like to dedicate this story to @daceydeath, thank you for always putting up with my deluluness, also thank you for putting up with my drama fill life honestly. I wouldn’t be still writing if it wasn’t for you encouraging me.

Chapter One

"Are you out of your mind, Grace?" you respond, a mix of disbelief and amusement in your voice. Surely, this can’t be serious—she must be joking, right?

"Absolutely, I mean it." She was your sole ally in this vast world, and there was something undeniably captivating about her dominant nature.

“What!.noooo, please, I’m not looking for one at the moment,” you replied, trying to sound convincing, although deep down, you knew it was a lie. The truth was you did desire a Dom to share laughs, experiences, and quiet moments with. However, the thought of finding a random guy on the internet made you feel uneasy.

Grace was aware of your past experiences and the fears that lingered from them. Your last relationship had left a sour taste in your mouth; he had been a bit too rough, disregarding the boundaries you tried to set. You often replayed those uncomfortable moments in your mind, unsure if you were ready to open yourself up to someone new. The idea of stepping back into the BDSM world felt daunting, and the online scene was even more intimidating. You longed for a genuine connection, but the anxiety of navigating it all made you hesitate.

"I have found a guy I think you will like...he classifies himself as a soft Dom, “As she spoke, her fingers quickly navigated her phone's screen until she found the image she was looking for. With a proud smile, she turned the device towards you, revealing a clear picture of the guy. His features were sharp and striking, framed by tousled hair that suggested a carefree spirit, and his expression was one of warm confidence. You could see the way his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, instantly drawing you in as she eagerly awaited your reaction.

You look closely at the profile photos. He catches your eye. "Grace, please tell me you haven't messaged him?" You watch her mouth curl into a mischievous grin.

"He's here right now." She was such an asshole for doing this to you. "Okay, behave,” she warns, her teeth clenched tightly. With a mix of tension and determination, the young man strides toward the table, his expression revealing a blend of nervousness and curiosity.

"Umm, hi," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a hint of nervousness in his voice. You glance up from your spot, and there, standing before you, a man of about 5 feet 7 inches tall. His brown hair is slightly tousled, falling just above his expressive brow. But it’s his eyes that truly captivate you—rich, warm brown, like molten chocolate, drawing you in with an intensity you didn’t expect. As he awkwardly chuckles, a shy smile breaks across his face, revealing a deep dimple in his left cheek, and he shifts his weight before sitting down beside you. The air feels charged with an unspoken connection, and you can’t help but feel your heart flutter at this unexpected encounter.

"Hello, I'm Chan," he said, extending his hand with a warm smile that momentarily lit up the elegant room. But as he leaned in closer to introduce himself the glass of red wine that grace, had ordered from the bar tipped over, spilling its contents across his Fendi black suit.

"Oh no, not again," he exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise as he quickly lifted the glass, but it was too late. The dark crimson liquid soaked into the fabric, threatening to leave a permanent stain.

Almost instantly, a waiter in a crisp white shirt and black bow tie appeared by your side, looking flustered. "I'm so sorry, sir," he said, his face flushed with embarrassment as he bent down to help with the clean-up. He hurriedly grabbed a stack of napkins and began to dab at the fabric, his movements quick but careful.

"We will get you another glass," the waiter added, waving his hand to signal the bartender to come over and replace the drink.

Chan shook his head, a hint of amusement in his eyes despite the situation. "No, no, it's quite alright, truly. This was all my fault. I really don’t need another glass, thank you," he replied, waving dismissively.

His gaze shifted back to you, and he hesitated for a moment before continuing. "But perhaps, miss—" He glanced at you with an inquisitive expression, silently asking for your last name to complete his introduction.

"Y/L/N," you replied with a playful smile, confidently shaking your head. "But no, thank you—I don't drink," you said, watching as the waiter redirected his attention to the bartender.

A soft "good girl" slipped from Chan's lips just as he attempted to wipe the wine stain off his jacket.

"Wait, don’t rub it! Dab… let me handle that," you said, leaning in closer, the thrill of the moment pulsating in the air. He met your gaze, his eyes lingering on you, drawn in by the tantalising view.

He carefully extended the jacket towards you, his fingers brushing against the fabric as he offered it. "Thank you, but you really don’t have to go through all this trouble," you replied, though your hands had already instinctively reached for the coat. With a napkin soaked in water from your glass, you began gently dabbing at the dark stain that marred the material.

He watched you intently, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "It’s important to act quickly; it stops the mark from spreading," you explained, your voice calm yet serious.

Just then, Grace, with a resigned sigh, pulled the clasp of her handbag shut with a decisive snap. "Well, this is off to a swimming start… I think I shall be heading out now," she announced, her tone laced with Amusement. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she made her way toward the restaurant door, her exit as swift as the unfolding drama around you.

"I'm really sorry she had you come all the way out here just to meet me," you said, brushing your hair back to clear your view.

He glanced at you, a hint of surprise in his wide eyes. "Honestly, I'm not," he replied, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

You caught his gaze and offered the jacket, carefully passing it back to him. "Just remember to use some stain remover when you get home. Let it sit for about 20 minutes, then give it a soak."

He grinned, taking the jacket, placing it behind him. "Stain remover, let it sit, then soak—got it! Thanks for the tip!"

"So, have you visited this place before?" he asked, a nervous itch at his shoulder blades giving away how he was feeling.

Leaning in closer, you locked eyes with him, feeling the weight of the moment. "I'm going to cut to the chase," you said, your voice low and confident. "I know Grace mentioned that I’m looking for a dom, but honestly, after our conversation, I don’t think your quite suited for that role."

Chan raised an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief curling his lips into a smirk. "Oh really? … What makes you think that?" His sudden loss of composure intrigued you, a thrill running down your spine as you recognised the shift in his demeanour.

With a playful giggle, you tilted your head slightly. "Well, for starters, you seem to be struggling to keep it all together," you teased, enjoying the way his confidence wavered under your gaze.

He chuckled, a charming smile spreading across his face as he glanced back down at his menu, the playful banter intensifying the electric tension between you. "Well… you might just have to be the one to keep it together for both of us," he replied, a glint of mischief lighting his eyes.

Curiosity bubbled up inside you as you contemplated where to go from here. With a gracious smile, you leaned back slightly, wanting to gauge his reaction. "Should we hit the reset button on this conversation?" you asked, your voice infused with intrigue. It was clear he was not one to back down easily; the playful challenge hung in the air, inviting exploration.

"I'm Y/N," you said with a warm smile as you extended your hand, ready for a handshake.

"Chan… or you can call me Chris for now," he responded, his eyes locking onto yours as he firmly grasped your hand. There was something reassuring in his grip, a blend of confidence and approachability. "So, tell me, Y/N… what do you like to eat? It's on me, obviously," he added, a playful smirk spreading across his face as if relishing the chance to treat you.

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in your eyes. "Hmmm, if you're paying… I think I might just go for the lobster." A grin broke across your face, the thought of indulging in a luxurious meal making your stomach flutter with anticipation. He chuckled softly, seemingly unfazed by your choice, his gaze wandering back to the menu as he scanned the options with a thoughtful expression.

Suddenly, the same waiter who had attended to you earlier approached your table, a notepad in hand and a charming smile on his face. "Are you ready to order?" he asked, his tone professional yet friendly, clearly accustomed to the rhythm of the restaurant. The atmosphere was filled with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of dishes.

“I’ll have the eye fillet” Chan said, flashing a warm smile as he looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"And Y/N will have the lobster, right?" he added, confidently placing the order for you. The thought of him being willing to pay for your $100 lobster meal sent a thrill through you, a mix of excitement and disbelief.

"Oh yes, please!" you replied, returning his smile with one of your own, sweet, and grateful as you addressed the waiter. He nodded politely, jotted down your orders, and then disappeared into the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant, leaving you and Chan in a cosy bubble.

"You honestly didn't have to order me lobster... I could have picked something else," you admitted, leaning in closer to him, the intimacy of the moment warming your cheeks.

Chan leaned in too, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lowered his voice slightly, creating an air of secrecy between you. "The truth is… I'm secretly hoping you don't eat it all so I can have some." The playful confession made your heart flutter; you loved how he relaxed in your company, the tension that once lingered starting to fade away.

"Maybe Grace was right about you," you teased, taking a sip of your water, savouring the cool refreshment as you tried to read the expression on his face, delighting in the rapport that seemed to blossom effortlessly between you two.

"Oh, you think so... hmmm, interesting," he said, leaning back in his chair, his fingers interlaced thoughtfully. “So why did you leave your last dom?” His gaze was steady, encouraging you to share more.

“He uhhhh... he was a sadist,” you began, you voice trailing off as memories flooded back. “I left him because he burnt me pretty bad." The weight of your confession hung in the air, a heavy reminder of a past that felt both distant and achingly close. As you recalled those terrifying times, it felt as though it all happened just yesterday; the emotional scars still fresh in your mind, a painful reminder of a relationship that had spiralled out of control.

"How severe is it?" His voice carried an undertone of concern, mixed with a curious edge that hinted he was trying to grasp just how serious the situation really was. The furrow in his brow and the intensity in his gaze suggested he braced himself for an answer that could change everything.

"Let's just say my back tells a story, “You replied, your tone deliberately flat. The scars weren't merely physical; they were haunting reminders of a past you rarely revealed. You wondered if he would probe deeper or gracefully allow this moment to linger in silence.

"So, fire is definitely a hard boundary for you, then?" His voice softened, now cautious as he delicately navigated a sensitive topic. It was evident he wanted to understand your limits without pushing you into uncomfortable territory.

"Yes, absolutely," you replied, a slow smile breaking through as you started to warm to the idea of Chris as your master.

"Noted," he said, folding his arms thoughtfully. "Did he ever mention anything about being into sadism?"

"No, not at all. He started off charming and sweet. I never would have agreed to play if I’d known. But over time, as our relationship deepened, his obsession with sadism began to surface."

"I'm truly sorry he treated you that way," Chris said softly, his voice filled with empathy as he reached across the table to take your hand in his. His gaze was intense, penetrating your eyes as if searching for a connection. "But if you decide to be with me…I promise I will never put you in a position like that." There was sincerity in his tone that made your heart flutter.

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you. "But it's your turn now," you said, eager to learn more about him. "Why did you leave your last partner?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed his face. "She left me... There were just certain expectations I couldn't fulfil, things she wanted from me that I couldn't overcome," he explained, his voice tinged with regret. "We came to the conclusion that it was best for her to move on." The admission stirred some unease within you, prompting you to dig deeper. "So, it sounds like… you weren't firm enough for her?"

A nervous tension sparked in the air as he pulled his hand away, his expression shifting as if he were retreating into himself. Just then, the waiter approached with the meals, momentarily breaking the atmosphere.

"Excuse me, sir… would you mind placing both meals in the centre of the table?" you asked, giving the waiter a warm, inviting smile. He nodded in agreement, carefully setting down the beautifully plated steak and lobster in front of you.

"Thank you so much. I truly appreciate it," you said, watching the waiter depart with satisfaction. As you turned back to Chris, you noticed a flicker of admiration in his eyes.

"Here, allow me," you offered, excitedly reaching for a lobster tail. With deft movements, you placed it beside the generous steak. You then sliced the steak in half, transferring one piece onto the lobster plate. After artfully arranging lobster tails atop the steak, you drizzled luscious lobster sauce over the entire presentation.

Once you had skilfully crafted the dish, you presented it to Chris, who looked genuinely captivated, his eyes wide in disbelief.

As he snapped out of his daze, a soft chuckle escaped your lips. "I believe they call this surf and turf."

His smile faltered, replaced with a thoughtful expression. "Thank you. I must be honest with you… I would like to discuss the possibility of a contract."

Chan POV

"Chan, come on, you really have to move on from Vanessa," Changbin asserted as he dramatically dropped onto the well-worn studio couch, the cushions sinking under his weight.

"I’ve moved on, seriously," I scoffed, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

"Then what’s the big deal about going on this date?" Changbin asked, tilting his head slightly and shifting to the edge of the couch, his curiosity evident in his expression.

"I don’t know, man... I’m just nervous," I admitted, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "What if she doesn’t like me? What if it all goes wrong? She doesn’t even know it’s supposed to be a date," I continued, my voice trailing off as I felt the weight of uncertainty settle in my chest. As I spoke, Changbin began packing up his headphones, clearly trying to focus on my dilemma.

Changbin was staring at me, his brow slightly furrowed and his eyes wide with confusion, as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle that didn’t quite fit.

"It's someone that Grace arranged for me to go on a date with," I explained, trying to keep the details vague. I didn't want to delve into the specifics of how the matchmaking had come about or share my mixed feelings about it.

"Oh, your hot friend Grace," he said with a smile. If only he knew what she was like, she would eat him alive. "When are you planning to hook me up with her?" he continued.

"I'm not… you're not her type" I mean, I wasn't lying. She liked women.

"You just want her all to yourself," he said, his voice laced with a hint of jealousy as he fixed his gaze on the ground, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Anyway," I replied, meeting his eyes with a light smile, trying to shift the conversation away from the tension. "What do you think I should wear? We’re going to a really fancy restaurant, and I want to look the part."

He paused for a moment, considering my question, before finally saying, "Your black suit is stylish. It always fits you perfectly."

……

This brings me to the point where I find myself saying, "I would really like to offer you a contract," and I can't help but wonder, Chan, why do you always act this way? She barely knows you, and here you are, making a complete spectacle of yourself. I couldn't help but notice the advice about the stained shirt—I mean, it was a bold move on her part to share that with me. And the way she offered me half of her food was so generous. I realise that if I don't seize this opportunity now, I might never encounter another submissive like her again.

She smiled politely, a hint of amusement in her eyes, and replied, "I'm flattered…but don't you think you should get to know me a bit better first?" As she said this, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her gesture both casual and intimate, making me realise just how much I wanted to learn more about her.

"I'll be right back," I promised, glancing at her as a smile spread across her face. I knew that Vannesa always kept a stash of hair ties in my car, a little quirk of hers that I had come to appreciate. With a quick stride, I made my way to the parking lot, the cool evening air brushing against my skin.

Once I reached my car, I opened the glove compartment with a soft click. Inside, neatly tucked away among a few scattered receipts and an old parking ticket, were the hair ties — a colorful assortment that Vanessa loved. I picked out a bright pink one, its elastic still strong and ready for action.

"Perfect," I murmured to myself as I closed the compartment and locked my car's door. I turned and made my way back to the restaurant, my heart a little lighter with each step.

As I re-entered the warm, inviting space filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, I spotted Y/N sitting at our table, her hair slightly tousled. "Here," I said, extending the pink hair tie toward her. "Please… take this."

Her eyes sparkled with delight as she reached for it, the tension in her features easing with a grateful smile. In that moment, I could see how the small gesture meant the world to her.

A faint blush crept across her cheeks as she glanced down, an awkward smile breaking through her initial embarrassment. "Oh wow, thank you… I, umm, totally forgot to bring mine," she admitted, her voice light yet laced with a hint of self-consciousness.

I chuckled softly, remembering my own past. "You know, my ex used to always keep spare hair ties in the glove compartment of the car. I completely forgot they were even there until I saw you struggling with your hair," As I spoke, I took a decisive cut into the perfectly cooked steak on my plate, savouring the moment while trying to ease her discomfort.

"Well, thank you," she replied, returning my gaze with a warm smile.

As she tied her hair up, I couldn't help but notice how the sleek strands came together in a polished ponytail, accentuating the graceful curve of her neck. There was something undeniably captivating about her look, and I found myself drawn to the way the lighting caught her hair, making it shimmer. "I really like you with your hair up," I remarked, feeling a rush of warmth spread across my cheeks as her eyes lit up with my compliment. Her smile widened, and in that moment, the world around us seemed to fade away.

……

As I glanced down at my watch, the glowing numbers caught my eye, and a sense of urgency washed over me. The night had slipped away faster than I had anticipated.

"Well, Chris…" she said softly, a hint of reluctance in her voice as she reached across the small table to grasp my hand. Her touch was warm and grounding, making it difficult for me to let go of the moment.

"I'll walk you to the car," I replied, hoping to prolong our time together just a little longer. After settling the bill, I led the way out of the cosy restaurant, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the sidewalk.

As we walked beside each other, the cool evening air wrapped around us, filled with the faint sounds of laughter and clinking glasses from nearby establishments. We made our way around the corner, where her car was parked under a lamppost, the light casting a gentle glow over its sleek silhouette. I couldn't help but steal glances at her as we walked, cherishing each second of this fleeting encounter.

"Thank you for tonight," she said with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with the soft glow of the overhead lights. "I assume Grace gave you, my number?" She laughed lightly, the sound as familiar as a favourite song. She and Grace had a long-standing friendship, a connection that made me feel a little more at ease.

"Yeah, she texted it to me during dinner," I replied, chuckling in return.

"Well… call me, please," she continued, her voice shifting from casual to something more serious yet undeniably inviting. There was a warmth in her tone that caught me off guard. "I'd love to discuss your proposal." Did I really hear that correctly? Did she just express genuine interest in talking about the contract? My heart raced at the thought, the prospect electrifying.

In that fleeting moment, I felt a powerful surge of desire to convey just how much she intrigued me. I could almost visualise those soft, inviting lips of hers brushing against mine, the warmth of our kiss igniting something deep within. Yet, amidst that longing, a voice of caution echoed in my mind, reminding me that rushing into anything too quickly could scare her off. I took a deep, steadying breath, trying to find the right balance between my yearning and the need to nurture a genuine connection.

"You can kiss me, Chris," she said with a playful smile, her hand resting lightly on my chest, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I gently tilted her chin upward, ensuring our eyes locked in a moment that felt suspended in time. With a soft, steadying breath, I leaned in, my lips hovering tantalizingly close to hers. "I will, but only when you sign that contract, missy," I teased, a playful smile breaking on my lips as I held her gaze, savouring the tension that crackled between us.

Y/N POV

You couldn't believe it, but Grace was right about him. As he strolled away towards his car, a warm smile spread across your face, a blend of excitement and disbelief. Everything about him seemed to resonate with you, from the way he carried himself to the charming glint in his eyes that sparked a quiet hope for what might unfold.

Just as you were lost in your thoughts, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you back to reality.

**Ting Ting**

An unknown number flashed on the screen, and with a curious frown, you opened the message. It read:

"Meet me at my office on Monday at 9 a.m. (address included). We will discuss the contract terms then - Master."

Y/N

"Yes, sir, I look forward to it."

………

Sunday morning dawns, and you are jolted awake by an insistent pounding on your door. Groggily rubbing your eyes, you mutter, "Jesus Christ," to yourself as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and shuffle toward the door.

Swinging it open, you find Grace standing there, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Oh good, you’re up!" she exclaims, brushing past you into the apartment without a second thought. "So, how did the date turn out with Chris? Isn’t he just delicious?"

Sitting down on the couch with a resigned sigh, you can't help but smile at her excitement. "He’s nice," you reply, playing with the hem of your shirt. "But... he’s an absolute mess." You lean back against the cushions, recalling the chaos of the evening you just survived. Grace plops down next to you, eager for the full story.

"Look, I know Chan pretty well," she said, settling onto the couch with a decisive thud. "He was a bit nervous earlier, which is unusual for him. You must understand, he’s a very sought-after dom in our community. He doesn't just take on any submissive; he’s quite selective. If he's offering you a contract, trust me, you should seriously consider it."

Curiosity piqued, I leaned in and asked, "What makes him so special?"

She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by my question. "Excuse me? He is the perfect dom…. If you're looking for a soft pleasure dom, he's one of the absolute best out there."

My mind raced as I processed that. "Wait, he’s a pleasure dom?" It felt like an incredible revelation. Pleasure doms are rare gems in this community, and to hear about one of his calibres was intriguing. It's no wonder he had such high demand—his reputation preceded him.

"Absolutely, big time," she affirmed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "He hasn’t had a submissive for over eight months now, which is practically an eternity for him. I’ve never seen him so anxious about meeting someone before. He must really like you—there's no other explanation for his nerves! So, when does he want you to sit down and discuss the details of the contract?"

"Tomorrow," you said, turning towards her. Suddenly you feel nervous. What if you can't please him like he wants.

“Shit, he’s moving fast,” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief. She shook her head, her brow furrowing as thoughts raced through her mind. “Look, nobody knows Chan like I do… There’s no way he’d just turn around and ask a girl he met to sign a contract like that.”

Her tone shifted, urgency seeping into her words. “So, what should I do, Grace?” you asked, anxiety creeping into your voice.

“Listen to me… You need to hear him out, alright?” She leaned in closer, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your gaze unwavering as you searched her eyes for assurance.

“Good girl,” she said, a sultry undertone lacing her words, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, as if she knew she had you right where she wanted you.

��……

**Monday**

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you took a deep breath, your fingers carefully wrapping a curling wand around a lock of hair. “Why am I so nervous?” you muttered, forcing yourself to focus on your reflection. The soft morning light streamed through the window, highlighting the mix of excitement and anxiety etched across your features.

“Okay, Y/N… You’ve done this before,” you reassured yourself, smoothing down the front of your blouse. “Just strike out what you’re not comfortable with.” You ran through your mental checklist, contemplating the plans for the evening, and mentally discarding any doubts that surfaced.

Finally, satisfied with your appearance, you grabbed your handbag—a sleek black purse that felt just right in your hand—and headed for the door, taking one last glance back at your apartment. With a quick exhale, you stepped outside into the crisp air, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach.

As you approached the curb, your heart raced a little faster. There, parked majestically in front of your building, was a black Range Rover. Standing beside it was Chris, an easy smile lighting up his face as he spotted you. “Oh good… I was afraid you wouldn't show up,” he chuckled, his warm demeanour instantly easing some of the tension you felt. The sound of his voice made you grin.

"So, you actually came to pick me up?" you inquired, your voice laced with curiosity as you approached him.

Chris stepped aside with a flourish, swinging open the door of his sleek black car. "After you," he replied, a hint of mischief in his eyes. You couldn’t help but wonder what had prompted this unexpected gesture. Wasn’t he supposed to have his own driver? The thought lingered as you climbed into the plush leather seat, the scent of fresh upholstery filling your senses.

Inside the car, an uncomfortable silence settled between you, heavy with unspoken words. You caught glimpses of the city lights reflecting in the windows, your mind racing as you tried to make sense of the situation. Just as the tension began to feel unbearable, Chris reached over, his hand enveloping yours with a warmth that both surprised and calmed you. He threaded his fingers through yours, creating an unbreakable connection. "You don't have to be a nervous baby girl," he said, his tone both gentle and commanding.

You let out a nervous chuckle, shaking your legs to release the anxious energy coursing through you. "I can't help it," you admitted, feeling the flutter of excitement and anxiety battling within.

"Spot that," he said, his voice taking on a stern edge as he fixed his gaze on the road ahead. There was a seriousness in his tone that made your heart race, but a part of you felt comforted, knowing he was there.

You sit perfectly still in the passenger seat, fixing your gaze straight ahead, your heart racing as you decide to remain silent for the remainder of the drive to his office. The moment you arrive, the name "JYP Entertainment" slips from your lips, your tone laced with surprise and intrigue.

With a playful chuckle, Chris swings open the car door and steps out, the sound of the vehicle’s door closing echoing in the quiet lot.

“Here, allow me to help,” he offers, extending his hand toward you with a warm, inviting smile. You can feel a slight flutter in your stomach as he firmly locks his fingers around yours.

He leads you through the entrance of the building, its sleek, modern design taking your breath away. "I've booked a meeting room for us," he states, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. You can’t help but notice the briefcase he holds, its professional elegance hinting at the serious nature of the meeting ahead.

"This way," he continues, his voice bright with enthusiasm, as he guides you toward the elevator. The polished metal doors slide open, and you step inside, both of you sharing a moment of anticipation as the elevator begins its ascent.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, you stepped inside alongside him, feeling the heat of his presence nearby. His hand trailed along your lower back, a gentle yet possessive gesture that sent a shiver down your spine.

The soft hum of the building faded away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble once again. You settled into a chair, the plush fabric contrasting the excitement that swirled in your stomach, while he turned to pour you a cup of water from a sleek glass pitcher on the table.

“have some water,” he commanded, his voice firm but not unkind, echoing authority that sent your heart racing.

With a playful glimmer in your eyes, you shot back, “You’re not my dom yet, Chris… I don’t have to listen to you.” Your tone carried a cheeky defiance, a challenge laced with a hint of flirtation.

In response, he leaned closer, closing the distance between you until he was mere inches from your face. His breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “Do you want to repeat that?” The thrill of his proximity made your pulse quicken, mixing a touch of mischief with a growing sense of exhilaration that hung heavily in the air.

You take a gentle sip of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat as you try to quell the anticipation bubbling within you. He leans closer, his presence both comforting and electrifying. "That's my good girl," he murmurs, pressing a soft, tender kiss just below your ear. The warmth of his lips against your skin sends an involuntary shiver cascading down your body, igniting a thrill that dances through you.

"Alright… shall we get started?" he asks, shifting into a more businesslike demeanour as he settles down next to you. With deft movements, he opens his briefcase, revealing a neatly organised array of documents inside.

He pulls out two contracts, the crisp paper brimming with promises and stipulations. "Let's begin with the limits," he states, his voice steady as he hands one of the contracts to you. With a flick of his wrist, he opens his copy, revealing a series of terms and agreements laid out before him. "I took the liberty of striking out fire," he says, glancing at you to gauge your reaction.

You nod appreciatively, feeling a sense of control in the negotiation. "Okay, also animal and age play… those need to go as well," you respond assertively, catching his eye momentarily. There's a moment of understanding between you two—a silent assurance that both of you are on the same page. "And you should add… I will not refer to you as anything other than Chan, Chris, Master, or Sir."

He smiles as he acknowledges your added stipulation, a glint of approval in his eyes. "Okay, yeah, that works for me," he replies, his tone lightening with the shift in energy. Then, with a teasing lilt, he leans slightly closer and raises an eyebrow at you, asking without words if you have any further limitations in mind. "Sooooo noooo..." His playful inflection hangs in the air, inviting a deeper exploration of the intricate boundaries you’re both establishing.

“No use of the word 'Daddy,'” you say with a slight frown, your eyes narrowing playfully.

“Okay, okay, that’s fine with me,” he replies, raising both hands in mock surrender, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Curiosity piqued; you lean in closer to examine the document spread out on the table. “What is this down here… am I meant to move in with you?” The words hang in the air, and you can’t help but feel your pulse quicken at the thought.

“Uh, well… only if you want to,” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. He reaches for a pen, ready to strike that line out, but you swiftly grab his hand, squeezing it gently to stop him.

“How about we start with just weekends, okay? Besides,” you add with a teasing grin, “I have to work during the week.”

Chris's expression brightens at your decision. The tension eases, replaced by a shared excitement as he nods, clearly pleased with the compromise.

……

As the hours ticked by and you delved deeper into the intricacies of the contract, a sense of comfort began to wash over you. Chris had truly anticipated every detail, which was both reassuring and exciting. Eager to break the silence, you turned to him and asked, “How long have you been a master?”

A warm smile spread across his face, and he met your gaze with a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “I’ve been a master for five years now," he replied, his tone light yet filled with a hint of nostalgia. He looked away for a moment, as if lost in a memory, before continuing, “Before that, I was a sub.”

“Oh, really?” you interjected, genuinely intrigued. “What made you decide to make that transition?”

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he leaned back slightly, his demeanour becoming more relaxed as he reminisced. “It was my dom… She inspired me in ways I never expected. She was incredibly smart and stunningly beautiful, but she had this fierce temper that kept everyone on their toes,” he admitted, the warmth of his memories evident in his voice.

You leaned in a little closer, your heart racing with anticipation. “So, is that what I can expect from you?” you challenged playfully, feeling a flush of excitement as you pressed your legs together tightly. The prospect of uncovering more about Chris and what it meant to be under his guidance stirred a rush within you.

"I make it my priority to be fair in all situations," he states, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "But I must warn you upfront—I only provide one chance when it comes to behaviour. If you test the limits, punishment will follow, and trust me, I don't take chatting back lightly." He observes you closely, noticing the hint of mischief in your eyes that suggests a bratty side lurking beneath the surface.

"Oh really? Hmmmm... that sounds intriguing. Have you ever successfully tamed a brat before?" you reply, your voice laced with seductive curiosity, a challenge glimmering in your eyes.

"I have," he replies, his tone firm yet teasing. "Just remember, even though I have a softer approach as a dominant, I won’t tolerate bad attitudes for long." He continues flicking through the contract, his focus partially on the words, but mostly on you.

"I wouldn't dream of testing you, sir," you say, a slight smirk playing on your lips. Chris's expression shifts at your use of "sir," a flicker of interest igniting in his eyes.

"I'd love to see your house before I sign the contract," you add, your tone growing more enticing.

"Absolutely," he replies, gripping the paper tightly, his curiosity piqued. "Do you have time to check it out right now?" He leans forward, eager to show you more than just the words on the page.

"I actually need to go to work", you smiled. Very convenient timing.

“Perfect, I’ll drop you off,” he said with a tone that caught you off guard. You felt a rush of heat spread through you; after all, you worked at a sex shop, and the last thing you wanted was for him to discover that little secret in such an unexpected manner.

With a gentle smile, he led you down the path to the car, his presence both reassuring and slightly intimidating. As he opened the passenger door, you hesitated for just a moment before sliding into the plush seat. The driver, who had been waiting patiently, turned to you expectantly as you recited the address.

As you spoke, you glanced over to find Chris looking increasingly astonished. “You mean the sex shop on the corner?” he asked, his eyes widening in disbelief.

A light laugh escaped your lips, barely able to conceal the amusement bubbling within you. “Yeah, is that a problem?” You tried to keep your tone light and playful, enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

He shook his head, attempting to maintain an air of nonchalance, though you noticed the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Nope… not at all,” he replied, though the way he fidgeted with his hands and avoided your gaze gave away his intrigue. You could tell he was trying to play it cool, but it was hard to miss the excitement fluttering beneath the surface.

Your workplace is about twenty minutes away, nestled in a bustling part of town. As you pull up outside the shop, Chris undoes his seatbelt with a determined look on his face.

"What are you doing?" you exclaim, a wave of panic rising in your chest. The thought of him entering the shop sends your mind racing.

"I’m coming in…. I want to look around… and I might pick up some toys for later when I come to get you," he replies, his voice casual but his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Don't you dare," you retort, giving him a warning look. His expression shifts, and he shoots you a challenging stare, the kind that reminds you how stubborn he can be. Realising you’ve lost this battle, you slump back into your seat, resigned but still slightly irked.

"Let’s go," he says with a playful grin as he steps out of the car, extending his hand toward you.

You take a deep breath, roll your eyes, and push the door open, hopping out reluctantly. "Fine," you mutter, but there's a hint of amusement in your voice. As you take his hand, you can’t help but feel a mix of exasperation and affection for his spontaneous nature. Together, you walk toward the entrance of the shop, the bell above the door jingling as you step inside.

Chan POV

"Did she really just roll her eyes at me?" I thought, feeling a mix of irritation and intrigue. "Be careful, Channie... she's not yours just yet," I reminded myself as I walked beside her, the anticipation of the moment hanging heavily in the air. Though the urge to discipline her for her blatant disrespect bubbled beneath the surface, I knew I'd have to bide my time.

As we approached the store, I reached out and intertwined my fingers with hers, the warmth of her hand sending a jolt through me. She paused momentarily, her surprise flickering in her eyes, before she confidently led me inside. "Good morning, Noah," she greeted cheerfully as we entered, her voice brightening the room. I cast a glance toward Noah, who stood behind the counter—a striking young man with long, flowing blond hair that framed his chiseled features, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to capture the attention of everyone around him.

"Morning, Y/N... Who's this?" he asked, extending his hand toward me with a mixture of curiosity and charm.

I grasped his hand firmly, my grip slightly stronger than normal, as if to assert my presence. "This is my friend Chris," she said, her smile a beacon of warmth as she looked up at me, the friendly tone in her voice stinging a little. Just a friend? A surge of possessiveness surged within me; I yearned to show her just what kind of "friend" I could be.

Y/N then walked behind the counter, placing her bag with a practiced ease that suggested familiarity, while I observed her every move. There was an effortless grace to the way she navigated her surroundings. Once she returned to my side, a playful smirk danced on her lips. "Okay, you can leave now," she playfully dismissed me.

Taking the moment, I gently lifted her chin with my index finger, a gesture that was both tender and commanding. Drawn in by the magnetism that crackled between us, I leaned closer and pressed my lips against hers. The softness of her plump lips sent a rush of warmth through me, and I couldn't help but smile as I pulled back, feeling victorious.

I turned to Noah, whose expression of shock illuminated the space between us—clearly, he hadn’t seen that coming. With a sense of satisfaction swelling within me, I stepped out of the store and headed back to the car, a grin plastered on my face. "That'll show him... she's all mine," I muttered under my breath as I settled into the driver's seat. Opening my phone, I glanced at the time and said, "Okay, can we go back to the company?" My mind was already racing ahead, planning the next moves in this intricate game.

A:n thank you again to all that have read my rewrite for master

Taglist: @daceydeath @bakedlilgoonie @armystay89 @krishastumblernow @cakeracha

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wandasboy · 5 months ago

Text

For Her Attention

Pairing: Profiler!JJ x gn!reader

Word count: 2,200

Warnings: Top!JJ, bottom!reader, dom/sub dynamics, gn!reader, afab!reader, smut, daddy kink, degradation, strap-ons, fingering, spanking, possessive behavior | 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: You made a mistake in testing your girlfriend, but she is all too happy to teach you a lesson.

A/N: This is my first time writing smut so I'm sorry if it sucks. Proofread by cthulhus-curse

JJ was sitting at her desk, frustrated with the amount of files spread about and paperwork piling up. She was at the Bureau late in the night, which wasn't uncommon for her. If anything, she liked to get all her work done before coming home as a means to relax without thinking about what lied ahead tomorrow.

Multiple texts had been sent to you throughout the day, but your responses stopped two hours ago. This was adding to her frustration considerably. She had clear rules about communication, especially if you were going out. As it was a Friday night, she knew you would likely be at a club or bar-hopping, something she was fine with as long as you kept your location on. However, the little dot signifying your presence still said you were at one of the clubs you frequent, the position unmoving. She felt herself grow hot at the thought of you in possible danger and her not being able to help.

After shooting a quick text off to Emily, JJ refreshed your social media feeds for what felt like the hundredth time, hoping you'd have posted something indicating where you were. Although she was worried, she was also angry, already thinking of your punishment for being so careless and not adhering to her rules.

~~~

You had already had a few drinks, going back and forth from your booth to the dance floor. Your friends had been begging you to do another shot with them, but you refused, saying you'd had enough. When the shots came around, you noticed there was one extra, to which one of your friends exclaimed it was 'meant to be.' You rolled your eyes, telling them you couldn't come home belligerent again – your girlfriend would be pissed. They shrugged you off, continuing to enjoy the loud music and flashing lights.

Although you had been enjoying yourself, upon speaking of your girlfriend, you immediately felt a twist in your stomach. After the first club you went to, you had decided to leave your phone in the car, as you didn't want to hold it, and had no pockets. A stupid idea on your part, as you knew the clear guidelines she had about you going out. She wanted updates on how you were, where you were, and who you were with. You had given her none of that, as your phone was currently sitting in your friends' car, four blocks away. Knowing you'd already be in for it upon getting home, you chose to stay. After all, she had been working late all week, coming home once you were already asleep, then leaving early in the morning before you woke. Sometimes acting out was the only way to get her attention, so you did just that. Walking back over to the booth where your group was, you took a breath, grabbing the last shot, proclaiming you were ready for the shot now.

As you danced, you felt the guilt slowly slip away, your head feeling light and buzzed from the alcohol. You laughed and bumped against both friends and strangers in the packed club. Feeling a breath on your neck, you heard your friend tell you, you had an admirer. Turning, you giggled, not believing him, until he nodded his head towards a woman leaning against the adjacent wall.

Upon catching her eye, your smile immediately faltered, heart dropping to your stomach. You saw her grin and raise her eyebrows before she started walking towards you. Her dark hair swaying as she walked. You curse yourself, holding your breath as she got to you. She reached out, brushing a stray hair away from your face.

"Someone's in lots of trouble." She said, looking down at you.

You opened your mouth, but no words formed.

She grabbed your wrist tightly. "Time to go."

You turned to your friend you drove with, who watched the whole interaction. "I'll get it to you tomorrow." You smiled at them, grateful for their understanding.

The brunette pulled you out of the club, as you struggled not to trip over your own feet. She opened her passenger door for you, shoving you in. The drive was quiet, doing nothing to ease the anxiety in your chest. Turning a corner, you frowned, seeing she was not heading to your home. As you pulled into Quantico, you finally understood.

She pulled you through the entrance, in the elevator, and to JJ's office, holding your arm the whole way. Without knocking, she opened the door to the office, making your girlfriend look up.

"Look who I found." The brunette pulled you into the room.

You bowed your head, avoiding eye contact.

"Thank you, Emily." She said, not taking her eyes off of you.

Emily leaned into you, whispering, "Good luck," before leaving, closing the door behind her.

You felt the blonde's intense stare, your legs shaking from standing perfectly still.

"Look at me." Her sudden shift in tone made you jump, her voice commanding and harsh.

You sheepishly looked up at her, "JJ, I—."

"I don't want to hear it. Come here. Now."

You quickly made your way around her desk, next to her, not wanting to anger her more.

"Look at you, all dressed up in that skimpy outfit. Were you hoping to get someone's attention? Went out to whore yourself out?"

"No! I—"

She grabbed you by your hair, throwing you down on her desk, your stomach pressed firmly against the cool wood. She stood, pulling your body back against her by your hair. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling something hard press against your ass. You wondered if she had been packing all day, or put it on when she knew Emily had found you.

"Is there a reason you disobeyed me? Stopped responding to me, turned your location off? What were you hiding hmm?"

You groaned as she ground into you, your hips digging into the desk. You felt her hot breath on your neck as she whispered in your ear.

"Such a filthy brat, you wanted to be punished didn't you?"

You whined as she rolled her hips into you.

"Answer me," she growled.

"Yes, daddy. I wanted your attention. I'm sorry. Please." You mewled, bucking back into her, seeking any form of stimulation.

She took hold of your hip with her free hand, stilling you. "Ah ah, brats don't get what they want, do they?"

"No, daddy."

Removing her hand from your hair, she dropped you, your front now flush against her desk. She moved her hand under your skirt, ghosting along your inner thigh. Your core tightened around nothing as she moved the pads of her fingers against your clothed clit. She continued to move her fingers, feeling how drenched you were.

"So wet. Did someone at the club make you like this, hmm?"

"No daddy, just you!" You squeezed your thighs together.

She hummed at your response. Stepping back, she pulled your underwear down, which you automatically stepped out of. You heard her belt buckle, realizing she was undoing her pants. Waiting for the feel of silicone on you, you flinched when instead, you felt leather.

"You didn't think I was going to reward you for bad behavior did you? Bad pets don't get treats. You're going to take your punishment like a good little slut, right baby?"

You whined, the sensation of the leather brushing against your skin too much to handle. "Yes daddy, please."

JJ sat down in her chair, in direct eyesight with your perfect ass and dripping cunt. She slowly glided her belt over the soft skin of your thighs, touching your mound, then back up to your cheeks. "You're going to get twenty. Count each one or I will start over."

You found yourself missing the feel of the leather, as it's pulled away. The seconds appeared longer as she made you wait before whipping her belt against your backside. You yelped, starting the count.

"Tell me why you're being punished." Another hit.

You bucked your hips, "Two! I didn't follow the rules ." Another.

"And how did you break them?" She landed three slaps in quick concession, making you yell out, rapidly continuing counting so as not to miss any.

"I didn't tell you where I was going, I left my phone in the car— seven!" You tried to catch your breath as the strength behind her hits became harsher. "Eight, nine," your hands gripped her desk, squeezing your legs together, trying to relieve the throbbing.

"What else?"

"I stopped communicating, didn't tell you who I was with, I was bad, I'm sorry daddy, please." You cried out as you near twelve. The skin on your ass sore and angry, the sting of her belt ever present.

"You think you deserve your punishment?"

"Fifteen! Yes, daddy. I was bad, I'm so sorry, I'll never do it again, I promise."

"I hope so baby, you know how daddy doesn't like punishing you." She smiled, blatantly lying. She loved hearing you whimper and scream for her, seeing the red marks painted across your skin, proving her claim on you.

Tears fell down your cheeks, dripping down your chin as she delivered the last few blows.

She stood and scratched her fingers along your scalp after you scream, finally making it to twenty. "You did so good baby, took your punishment so well for daddy." JJ sighed, watching your body go limp, chest heaving and tear drops on the smooth wood of her desk. She rubbed her palms slowly over your ass, soothing the pain, then pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

Feeling you relax into her, she sneaked her hand around your front, sliding her fingertips through your slick folds. "Aw, did someone enjoy getting spanked? Such a naughty toy."

You moaned, desperate for relief. "Please," you quietly pleaded.

"Shh, daddy's gonna make it all better baby."

JJ circled your clit with her thumb, before pinching, eliciting a sob from you. She continued her ministrations, easing two fingers into you. She slowly pumped her fingers, stretching you. With each thrust, you started to feel that tight coil build up, wanting to break loose. She groaned, your inner walls clenching around her fingers. "So tight for me."

She turned your head to the side, kissing along your jaw, delighting in how you squirmed beneath her. JJ kept a steady pressure on your clit as she fucked you, massaging the sensitive spot deep inside you. "Gonna get you all ready to take daddy's cock, okay sweetheart?" She sped up, scissoring her fingers inside you, reducing you to a breathless and whiny, pathetic mess just for her. She watched as your knees buckled, which enticed her to harshly bite into the unblemished skin between your neck and shoulder.

She licked the spot she bit, soothing the pain as she removed her fingers, causing you to whine and shift your hips, seeking more of her touch. JJ unbuttoned her pants, pulling out her dark blue strap. "You ready for me baby?"

You pushed your hips back into her, "Yes daddy, please! Need your cock in me."

She brushed her strap through your heat, painting her cock with your arousal. With one swift move, she plunged into you, bottoming out.

A scream echoed in her quiet office. You thanked god nobody else was in the bullpen or surrounding offices. Although you had taken her strap many times before, you were never quite prepared for the stretch and sheer size of her. She grunted as she set a brutal pace, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. You loved when she left bruises and marks, it made you feel owned and wanted. You cried out with each thrust, as her hips slapped at the sensitive flesh of your ass.

"That's it baby, you take me so well, so good for daddy."

She reached around again to play with your swollen bud, never slowing her movements. You began to match her thrusts, relishing in the sensation of being stretched and used. She miraculously hit that spongy spot each time, building you up. Too focused on how your body felt on fire, you barely registered her lifting one of your legs up to pound into you harder. Lost in your fuzzy headspace, the only words tumbling out of your mouth were broken pleas and fragments of her name.

"Daddy, so close," you barely made out between gasps.

"Yeah? Baby needs to come? Go ahead, cum on daddy's cock. Let me see how pretty you are."

JJ's words were all it took for you to finally let go, coating her strap, the evidence of your climax dripping down your thighs and soaking the front of her pants. She eased you down from your high, before pulling out. She held you as your legs gave out beneath you.

Spinning you around in her arms, she planted kisses on your cheeks, forehead, and finally your lips. You felt yourself surrounded in her comforting floral haze, moaning into her kiss. When she finally pulled away from your lips, she moved to your neck, sucking a deep mark, sure to leave a bruise.

"Mine."

#jennifer jareau #jennifer jj jareau #jennifer jareau smut #jennifer jareau x reader #criminal minds #cm #jennifer jareau x gn!reader #criminal minds evolution #carter writes

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cece693 · 4 months ago

Text

What Can I Say? I'm A Man Pt. 2

pairing: will graham x male reader tags: beverly being the best wing woman, will trying to be good but failing, bad seduction skills, attempt at humor

For a few sweet, blissful months after you and Will Graham finally got together, life seemed almost perfect. The two of you enjoyed flirty banter in the FBI corridors, discreetly held hands under conference tables, and frequently snuck off for “coffee runs” that somehow always ended with will unsuccessfully hiding a hickey on his neck. Beverly Katz, having practically orchestrated your union, basked in the smug satisfaction of a successful matchmaker.

But behind Will’s gentle smiles, darkness loomed. His work—profiling some of the most depraved killers in existence—took an ever-growing toll. His nightmares escalated into vivid hallucinations. He’d jolt awake in cold sweats, and sometimes he’d see flickers of horror even in broad daylight. The pressure in his mind built until something had to give.

Try as you did to be his anchor, Will—stubborn, self-sacrificing Will—decided to end things. It happened one evening, on the porch of his Wolf Trap house, where he quietly insisted you deserved better than a man haunted by killers and ghosts. You argued, nearly in tears, but he only murmured apologies and asked you to leave, shutting you out of his life.

One moment, you were adoring him—and, let’s be real, especially that marvelous butt—the next, you were left with a gaping hole in your heart. Your bed felt emptier without Will’s presence, and your office mornings far less exciting without sneaking peeks at his backside in those perfectly fitted slacks.

Despite the ache in your chest, you knew you had to keep functioning. Enter Daniel, a friendly data analyst with a razor-sharp sense of humor. The two of you bonded over complaining about the FBI’s ancient coffee machine and the subpar quality of the break room muffins. It was refreshing to hang out with someone whose biggest drama was a broken keyboard, and not, say, nightmarish hallucinations. Of course, your office lunches with Daniel were just friendship, nothing more. But Will—holed up in his self-imposed isolation—heard whispers of “Oh, look at [Y/N] and Daniel, they’re so tight,” and promptly jumped to the worst conclusions.

Beverly Katz, noticing how you walked around with a perpetual cloud over your head, tried her best to cheer you up. Whether it was slipping you candy bars or dropping off ridiculous memes about office romance, she kept the spark of hope alive. She also kept a keen eye on Will, who moped around like a tragic Victorian ghost whenever you were in the room.

One day, she caught Will glaring down the hallway as you and Daniel joked about something, Daniel gently nudging your shoulder. She dragged Will into the nearest conference room, slamming the door behind them.

“Okay, Graham, enough is enough,” Beverly growled, arms folded.

“What are you doing?” Will asked, startled.

“I should ask you that question! You’re letting the best thing that ever happened to you”—she jabbed a thumb toward the door—“slip away. Because, what, you’re mopey and think you’re protecting him?” Will opened his mouth to protest, but Beverly cut him off.

“He’s miserable, you’re miserable. If you don’t do something soon, I’ll confiscate your fishing rods, your dogs, and—and—heck, I’ll even make sure your flannels go mysteriously missing.” At the mention of his beloved flannels, Will blanched.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Watch me,” she retorted, narrowing her eyes.

Finally, Will sighed in defeat. “I can’t stand seeing him with that Daniel guy…”

Beverly’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my God, you idiot. They’re friends. You think [Y/N] would replace you that fast? Did you forget how he all but worships your butt?”

Will turned crimson. “I… that’s… irrelevant.”

Beverly snorted. “It’s very relevant. You think Daniel’s walking around in jeans that fit that well? C’mon, Graham, you’ve got the upper hand if you’d just use it.” She slammed a scrap of paper on the table—her so-called “Winning [Y/N] Back Strategy,” complete with bullet points like “Wear something that shows off your assets” and “Stop being a stubborn idiot.” Will gulped as he read it.

Spurred on by Beverly’s ultimatum, Will devised a (very shaky) plan to win you back. He recalled how you used to watch him whenever he walked across the bullpen, gaze shamelessly trailing his backside. In fact, he remembered once catching you drooling. A small flame of confidence flickered in him—maybe that was the key. He rummaged through his closet, searching for an outfit he’d normally never dare to wear. Eventually, he settled on a snug, dark sweater that emphasized his chest and arms, plus a pair of jeans that left very little to the imagination. He stood before the mirror, tugging at the denim awkwardly.

“Beverly said I should show off my figure,” he muttered, cheeks burning. “But do I look like I’m trying too hard?” His reflection did not respond, but the jeans did confirm they were practically painted on. It would have to do.

Though Beverly had suggested a polite, straightforward approach—like calling you or knocking on your door—Will decided he needed something “dramatic.” It had worked once before, in a chaotic, heart-thumping sort of way. So he drove to your apartment late at night, using the spare key he still had from your happier days. Maybe if you saw him in this outfit, you’d realize once and for all that it was him you wanted, not Daniel.

Of course, Will’s hands shook from nerves, so when he tried to insert the key, he nearly dropped it. The door swung open rather forcefully, banging against the wall and causing you—half-asleep on your sofa—to leap up. “What the—?!” you yelped, fumbling for a nearby object (your TV remote) like it was a weapon. “Who’s there?”

When you saw Will step in—face flushed, hair in disarray, wearing the tightest outfit known to mankind—your jaw dropped. The moment felt bizarrely familiar, reminiscent of a previous break-in, except this time Will seemed more anxious than apologetic.

“I—I wanted to see you,” Will stammered. “I’m sorry I barged in, but I couldn’t wait.”

Your heart pounded, torn between confusion, excitement, and a flicker of anger. After all, he had been the one to break things off. And yet, boy, did he look good. “Will?” you breathed. “What are you—how did you—why do you look like that?”

Will cleared his throat, trying to regain composure. “Look, I know I messed up. I pushed you away because I was afraid my hallucinations, these nightmares, would drag you down. But I can’t handle the thought of you with someone else.” He paused, glancing away. “That Daniel guy…Beverly says it’s not romantic, but I kept imagining the worst. I just—I need to know if...if it’s over for good. Or if there’s a chance.”

You stared at him, mind reeling. Part of you wanted to scoff, “You left me, remember?” But the other part—okay, most of you—was helplessly drawn to the sight of Will Graham, eyes glimmering with longing, chest heaving in a form-fitting sweater, and those incredible jeans hugging his hips. Your gaze fell involuntarily south, and Will caught it. His cheeks flared red, but a tiny hopeful flicker danced in his eyes.

“I, um…tried to wear something you might appreciate,” he admitted softly. “I’m not exactly smooth at this whole seduction thing. Beverly said I should show off…my ‘best assets.’”

Your heart squeezed in both amusement and affection. “She actually said that?”

Will nodded, cringing. “I’m pretty sure she threatened to take my dogs if I didn’t step up my game.” Despite the swirl of emotions, a laugh bubbled out of you. Leave it to Beverly to strong-arm Will into a skin-tight outfit. You set the TV remote aside, stepping forward, carefully closing the door behind him.

“Will, I’m not with Daniel,” you said plainly, staring him down. “We’re coworkers—friends, at most." Silence fell, tension palpable. Then your eyes flicked over him again, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help the smirk tugging at your lips. “Those jeans look uncomfortable,” you murmured, voice low.

Will’s ears turned scarlet. “Beverly said they’d, uh, ‘accentuate the glutes.’ Her words, not mine.”

You tried—tried very hard—not to laugh. “I see. And to think I once believed you picked them out.”

He gave a rueful chuckle. “My seduction skills are minimal, at best.”

Taking a small step closer, you let your fingers brush the hem of his snug sweater. “I appreciate the effort, though,” you said softly. “And, for the record, I am very fond of your glutes.”

Will swallowed hard, heart pounding. “I know. You made that pretty clear when we first started seeing each other.”

Your chest constricted with a mix of love and exasperation. “I can’t believe you, Will Graham. You break my heart, vanish, then come back wearing these”—you gestured at the jeans—“like you’re in a rom-com with a midnight booty call.”

He gave an awkward shrug. “I was desperate.”

Despite everything, a tender warmth spread through you. You reached up, cupping his face, feeling the tremble in his cheeks. You leaned in, about to seal the moment with a kiss. Then your phone—sitting on the coffee table—began buzzing like an angry wasp. You glanced over and saw Beverly’s name. Will groaned.

“Of course,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “She probably wants to make sure I didn’t chicken out.” You answered on speakerphone, still keeping one hand splayed over Will’s (very tense) abs.

“Hello?”

Beverly’s voice crackled through. “Hey, [Y/N], just checking in. My spidey senses say Graham might be there, parading around in unforgivably tight pants. Am I right?”

Will flushed, pressing a hand to his face. You stifled a laugh. “Wow, your intuition is spot on. Should I be concerned about privacy?”

Beverly snorted. “Please, I’m the FBI’s top meddler. Your privacy died the moment you two started eye-banging each other. Anyway, are we getting a happy ending tonight, or do I need to stage another intervention?”

Will leaned over, speaking into the phone, voice tight with embarrassment. “We’re fine, Beverly. Go away.”

Her laughter peeled through the speaker. “Take that as a yes. Good luck, lovebirds.” She hung up before either of you could protest.

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you set the phone aside, turning back to Will. “Seems like she’s invested in our outcome.”

He exhaled slowly. “She means well. Even if she forced me into these jeans.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips. “Then maybe I should thank her, because you look—” you gestured up and down, “—incredible.”

Will’s gaze flickered with relief, anxiety, and a growing hunger. Carefully, you slid your arms around his waist, resting your hands on the snug denim across his hips. He sucked in a breath at the contact, but didn’t pull away.

“I’ve missed this,” you admitted, giving a playful squeeze. “And by this, I mean everything—but especially your…”You trailed off, letting your hands speak for you by gently brushing over that firm curve.

A shaky laugh escaped him. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“Never claimed otherwise,” you teased, leaning in to brush your lips against his. This time, there was no interruption—just the slow, sweet press of mouths rediscovering each other. The heat was immediate, tangled with relief and longing. It reminded you of all the reasons you fell for Will in the first place—his warmth, his vulnerability, and yes, the glorious behind you now shamelessly palmed.

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xinfinityl0ve17 · 3 months ago

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Klaha [MALICE MIZER]

●Klaha

“I'm not as delicate as everyone thinks. I've got pretty thick nerves.”

PROFILE

(From left): yu~ki (B), Mana (G), Klaha (Vo), Közi (G)

The band name, MALICE MIZER, holds the meaning of “malice and tragedy.” Their concept driven songs soaked in a medieval gothic atmosphere, and their live performances transcending mere “shows” are truly worth experiencing

“I've been influenced by the other members in a lot of ways.”

- Klaha who joined MALICE MIZER as their vocalist last summer had already known the members for some time before officially joining the band. But what led him to make the decision?

“I’ve never really been interested in the band scene. What I’ve always cared more about is simply wanting to sing. But I felt like, if it’s MALICE MIZER, they could help elevate my singing and that my singing might also deepen their musical expression. To me MALICE MIZER is a solitary presence radiating a unique, lonely aura that you can’t find anywhere else.”

- For Klaha joining the band didn’t just affect him musically it also had a major impact on his fashion sense.

“We actually go shopping together sometimes (laughs). Before that, I always wore all black like, even in summer I’d be wearing long sleeves, sometimes even a coat. But after joining that started to change thanks to the other members. These days I’m into more natural styles. Since MALICE MIZER delves into such a fantastical world, I think it's more interesting to keep things natural in daily life. The contrast feels really refreshing.”

- Klaha is currently exploring a fashion style he’d never embraced before. Naturally, that comes with some missteps…

“When I only wore black i could tell what suited me without even trying it on. But now, even when I’m sure something looks good I’ll try it on at home and the collar will look weird or something. I mess up a lot now (laughs).”

- What about his hair styling habits?

“Well i put some styling lotion in and wrap the ends of my hair around my fingers to give it a wavy look, like natural curls. But if I zone out, I end up curling it the wrong way inward instead of outward. When that happens, I just spray more lotion, run my fingers through it and mess it up like, ‘Whatever, good enough!’ Honestly, I can’t even draw a decent circle, I’m that clumsy. So if it’s not working out, I just give up and move on (laughs).”

- A great cook and athletic too. But a bit of an airhead!? Tall, slender and quiet, he might come across as delicate and highly sensitive. But Klaha’s real personality is surprisingly relaxed and easygoing.

“People assume I’m terrible at sports, but actually I’ve got pretty good reflexes. If there were a sports festival for visual kei bands, I’d totally want to join (laughs).”

- One of his talents is cooking—he says he can make almost anything without even looking at a recipe.

“I haven’t cooked for the other members or staff yet, so they’re all kind of skeptical about it. But what really gets to me is when people say I’m an airhead. They say the way I talk is kind of offbeat, but I’m like. What exactly about it is off? As far as I’m concerned, I’m explaining things logically. It all makes perfect sense to me totally perfect, actually (laughs).”

#mana sama #malice mizer #kami malice mizer #malice mizer közi #magazine #malice mizer mana #yu~ki malice mizer #celebrity interviews #malice mizer gackt #malicemizerinterview #klahamalicemizer #klaha #malice mizer klaha

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iwoulddieforher · 6 months ago

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Rigid | Casey Novak × Alex Cabot

Author's Note: This got super out of hand with the length- I think this is the longest fanfiction I've ever written. Hope you enjoy it, though <3 ~16k+ words

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. I like the idea of Alex being neurodivergent in some way, even if she doesn't know it herself, so some of her self-descriptions will come off that way.

Summary: Alex wants desperately to be able to relax like she sees her colleagues doing, and a night watching a coworker she has her eye on- Casey Novak- might present itself as the opportunity to get what she wants.

Porcelain dolls strung up by small transparent strings were significantly less rigid than Alex Cabot currently felt. How she usually felt, even.

High-class family, posh preparatory school, strategically made connections rather than real relationships were all she grew up knowing. Everything had a meaning, a purpose, a reason for why it was so, and that also applied to every detail of her appearance and demeanor must similarly be intentional. She grew up internalizing that, and thus, as an adult she utterly lacked the ability to let her spine curve into a natural slump, to lay in bed without wondering what it would look like to a non-existent observer, to kiss someone in a way that focused on the intimacy rather than the shifted facade that she displayed in order to appear desirable.

It felt inhuman. She really hated it. The feeling she coped with daily made her skin crawl as if it was begging to be torn off to reveal a real person behind it instead of the ever-complicating mask.

It was especially noticeable to her on days like these, where a high-profile case had just been absolutely devoured by her colleague, Casey Novak, so the squad room was positively thrumming with excitement and a collective sense of triumph. Olivia, the one Alex had made a habit of perching herself by, was currently at the corner store to pick up a bottle of something to share, so the attorney was standing almost aimlessly against the brunette detective's desk. Across the desk was Stabler, in his respective chair, looking up at Casey who had chosen to place herself on the edge of his desk. Munch was in his rolly-chair, with Tutuola leaning over the back of it, Cragen standing stiffly but not uncomfortably near the commotion like a proud father.

"And that absolutely little weasel of a man-" Casey chirps, as much as a voice as low as hers could sound like a chirp, interrupted by a bark of laughter from Stabler, "Sorry, that boot-licking short ass bottom-feeding rodent-"

"Casey!" Stabler admonished, although his eyes were shining with amusement, and the faux blonde woman laughed and swatted at him half-heartedly.

"Yes, okay, I'll mind my manners. The defense counselor, before the trial, told me that because I'm pretty if I want after the duration of court he'll give me some tips on improving- and now I won, and when he was walking out, I managed to shoot him a smile and say 'if you want any tips, just call Novak at the DA's office'- I thought he was going to deck me right there-"

Casey's storytelling is rewarded with a roar of laughter from the men, her face shining with victory and the aftereffects of a battle well fought, and Alex can't help but find her beautiful. Casey Novak was anything but rigid, and Alex wished she was more like that- even if Casey's temper did get her in trouble more frequently than one would wish.

"Okay, well, don't let your victory get you all haughty, I'm still going to kick your ass tonight." Stabler snorts, after the laughter had died down, which sends Casey into a refreshed cascade of giggles.

"You? Kick my ass? Oh, you wish."

"Wait," Alex cuts in, everyone's eyes flickering to her as if they were slightly off guard that she was still following the conversation, "what's this about kicking each other's asses?"

"I'm going to hand Stabler his balls on the softball field tonight-" Casey starts before Stabler swings at her playfully and she gets distracted by shooting him a playful warning look. Alex forgot how much they acted like siblings sometimes, but the way they seemed to bounce off each other and banter so smoothly made them seem like twins. She could very easily imagine them in early teens kicking each other under a dining room table.

"Recently we've all started getting together to play softball together," Stabler interjects, granting Alex a serious response, "after big cases on the weekends we get together with some other cops and some other lawyers at night. Good way to blow off steam if justice isn't served or good way to celebrate if we do."

“It used to be a big thing, there were inter-department tournaments at the DA’s office or whatever, but now us who liked it so much just play for the hell of it, and also against the cops.” Casey nods, finally done with Stabler after managing to flick him in the middle of the forehead with her finger, which he glares at her for.

"And us who don't play softball get drunk while watching 'em." Munch says, leaning back in his swivel, with Tutuola adding a nod from just above him.

Alex bit her tongue, blinking in mild surprise. Back before she had 'died', they had gone to bars together to celebrate such things, and she didn't know any of them had really had any penchant for sports outside of Stabler occasionally mentioning his daughter's soccer or basketball results. She certainly had no clue Casey was apparently formidable enough on a softball field to hold on against a built detective such as Stabler.

"Speaking of drunk, I'm back." Olivia announces, strolling into the precinct once more, finding her way to stand beside Alex while cradling two bottles of some discounted wine, holding one up as evidence.

"Oh I got the worst fucking hangover from that shit-" Fin fires off immediately, who then gets silenced by a snort from Olivia, and the warm atmosphere is immediately resumed, Novak and Stabler beginning to chatter about proper swinging technique and which one of them was doing it wrong while Munch, Benson, and Tutuola start arguing over alcohol. Alex felt rather out of place.

Tone switching over to something light and banter-y was usually a bit difficult for her after grueling caseloads, and today especially she was just done. She didn't want to leave, though, she didn't want to be alone or god forbid find company with other stiff-necked attorneys to chat with hollow words about unnecessary topics, but involving herself in this easy exchange- especially since she wasn't entirely sure if she was invited- was hard.

"Oh, how about you join us, Alex?" Olivia suddenly exits her own argument to turn towards the blonde, her face soft the way it usually was when it came to her. "I know it's not your type of thing, probably, but it would be nice to have you there."

Her voice is earnest, and Alex had been wishing someone would invite her to accompany the drinkers, so although she entertained the puppy-eyes Benson made at her for a few seconds longer than necessary she did ultimately accept.

"Does this mean we can put bottles of something more worth drinking on Cabot's platinum card?" Munch mutters, pushing his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose, and Alex snorts.

"Tough luck, but if we go to a bar after I'll carry a round."

Olivia's head whips around and stares pointedly at Casey, firing off a quick, "No tequila," to which Casey makes the most indignant face Alex could possibly imagine on the copper-headed woman.

"Hey, that was not my fault- and also only once-" Casey defends, and Stabler starts laughing, slapping his fist on the table.

"Do you remember the whole thing with that-"

"Yes," Casey snaps, "I'm sure mostly everyone does, and if they don't then-"

"Casey, Alex wouldn't know." Olivia says lightly, elbowing the mentioned blonde, "Come on, Alex, aren't you curious? We should retell this for your sake, right?"

Alex's icy blue eyes met Casey's dense green ones, and she was momentarily indecisive. She wasn't friends with Novak, and she wasn't going to pretend that she was, as much as she enjoyed watching the copper-headed attorney play with the coworkers she was genuinely close to. She wanted to know, but as soon as she saw the guard up in Casey's posture, the way that Alex's rigid demeanor was mirrored immediately by the younger woman, she faltered.

Alex was stiff. Her spine was held to an excessively intentional angle. Even though to everyone else she seemed almost as natural as the rest of them, learned iron in her veins commanded her to be a degree of rigidness that came close to robotic. And Casey was the farthest thing from imperceptive.

In the courtroom, it was necessary to shoot the same metaphorical bullet as the one that had been fired at you, and Casey did nothing short, her vertebrae stacking above one another as she readjusted herself, jaw growing more firm, her eyes flickering to become hard and sharp in a way that would almost seem predatory had it not been for Alex's recognition that this was entirely procedural for the younger attorney. Alex knew in her head too that if she was interacting with someone else like this, she'd have done the same thing.

Lawyers had a way of exchanging thoughts without verbalization, and Casey and Alex were currently having an odd back-and-forth that happened within a fraction of a second completely unbeknownst to the rest of the room. Casey registered the swirl of thoughts in Alex's mind and her inability to formulate a response in time to seem natural, and with the ball in her court, decided to give the blonde attorney an out.

"Okay, fine," she huffed, as though she was actually unwilling to share, despite the fact she was fully aware Alex would not have moved to force her to and she could easily tamp down or distract the eager detectives, "long story short, Olivia and I started fighting, and she made a jab about me no longer being white collar's youth prodigy, so I tried.. to prove how youthful I still was- er, still am."

Alex wrinkled the tip of her nose, pursing her lips to stop from laughing at that, and Casey twitched an eyebrow jokingly before shaking her head.

As soon as her head turned, the copper-headed attorney decided to release the inelastic facade she had just momentarily constructed, leaning backward once more. To the eye of the others, nothing that demanded the level of thought that had just been executed had come close to occurring.

The older attorney wasn't entirely sure how to reward Casey for her kindness in that exchange, but she felt like she should. She made a mental note that she owed Casey something- perhaps if the copper-headed woman snarked at her sometime in the future, she'd let it go without question, or some similar social grace. Her uncle has drilled in the 'advice' that one never forgets what they owe another, lest suddenly be surprised when the other expects to collect.

"She ended up kissing this random blonde woman who was going through a divorce." Munch supplied helpfully, who earned a glare from Casey in return, and the seconds returned to passing at a more natural rate rather than the slowed pace Alex had just felt like they moved in. The conversation was resumed.

"No, the bad part wasn't even that she made out with her, but the fact her flirting consisted entirely of legal jargon-" Olivia filled in, and Alex snorted softly as Casey's head whipped in the other direction to glare at her instead.

"Okay, okay, listen- first of all, she was not a random woman, her name was Jane and we did keep in contact for the duration of her vacation here-" Casey raised a finger, cutting Liv off, "and if you understood any sort of vocabulary past fifth grade, it would have made perfect sense to you."

Alex paused, deciding this was probably a point at which a response was required to reestablish her presence so she could stop relying on Olivia to make her involved, "Well, it does seem like a- ... youthful thing to do?"

Casey's jaw fell slightly agape, and then she closed it with a huff. "Okay, well. Olivia's just pissed because I can actually involve myself with women."

"I'm not gay!" The brunette protested indignantly, to which Casey and Elliot exchanged a look that read as what-is-she-on.

Olivia was silenced for a moment, bristling, before extending her arm to rest on Alex's. "Alex, help me out, us straight girls need to stick together with all this-"

"Straight?" Alex questioned, an uncomfortable chuckle in her throat, "Olivia, you didn't know I'm-?"

"What?!" Olivia cried, straightening immediately, not affronted but apparently incredibly surprised, which Alex internally sighed at, only to be distracted by a low whistle from Casey that she decided not to respond to.

Internally, Alex was grappling with the new information that Casey was sapphic. She was too, although she understood why Liv hadn't known, she wasn't super forthright with her identity- but Casey?

After a moment's contemplation, she realized that this actually made a lot of sense and she felt mildly stupid for not having realized on her own.

"Yeah," Stabler says after a pause, "I think this is our cue to get going to the softball diamond before Liv has her whole am-i-gay breakdown right here in the squad room."

The rag-tag group collectively nods, shuffling for possessions, with Olivia still apparently on edge and lost in an internal conversation with herself about the possibility of homosexuality. After a few more moments of collecting items or putting things into respective places, and after Casey pats Olivia sympathetically on the shoulder, they begin to head out to the parking lot.

Alex clicked the key to her Cadillac, briefly pausing to obtain the address of the sports place as well as a time, since a few people wanted to drop by home to discard professional belongings or change, and because a few members of the DA's teams were still in session, before studying the exits of her colleagues.

Tutuola and Munch separate to respective vehicles, with Olivia being given a ride by Stabler as usual, and Casey splitting off from the group entirely to unlock her bike. Cragen excuses himself with the explanation that he's not going to meet up with the rest of them, he doesn't play softball nor does he drink so he's spending a nice night in instead.

Everyone's method of transportation seemed in some way reflective of themselves. Munch's windows were so tinted Alex was vaguely concerned about the potential illegality of it and Fin's car is beat up in a way that shows he doesn't abide by the physics of curbs. Olivia and Elliot's carpooling constantly served as a testament to their bond as detectives, and Casey...

"I still can't believe you actually bike here every morning. While wearing the suit? Jesus." Stabler bantered, leaning on the hood of his own car while watching Casey fumble with the lock on her bike.

"Well," she replied in a curt rasp, straightening, "that's why my legs are toned and yours would snap under water pressure-" she stopped to point at him almost accusingly, "and don't get me started on cardiovascular health."

Olivia drags Elliot into his car before the two start bickering again, and that leaves Alex watching Casey out of the corner of her eye as the attorney fixes her bike locks to the luggage rack before swinging one leg over the seat and taking off, her chin nestled in her scarf, her mid-length hair swirling behind her.

For a second too long, she lingers, but then Alex climbs into her cold car, groaning slightly at the feeling of the stiff leather on her back, before driving without picking out a destination. She didn't have anything she felt uncomfortable leaving in her car, nor did she have anything to pick up, so going to her penthouse was somewhat pointless. However, with about an hour until the designated time, staring out the window at the city streets far below seemed more interesting than staring at said streets on the ground level while seated aimlessly in her car, so she went home.

The elevator opened directly into her apartment, so she needed to use her key in the elevator pad itself, and when she did and the doors opened she dropped her briefcase right next to the door- it fell exactly the same way it would've if she had intentionally placed it, which makes her mildly irritated.

She didn't bother to kick off her shoes, placing herself on the couch in her apartment, and staring blankly at the wall. Her spine was straight, her legs angled to the side in the way her mother had taught her to make them look longer, her hands folded in her lap. Her apartment felt desolate. Her skin crawled.

She tried to focus on something- anything, really, in her apartment- but all she was met with was cold, smooth marble that her eyes slid off of. Plaquettes held her accomplishments that suddenly felt utterly pointless, framed pictures of her family or college friends that seemed impersonal. She couldn't keep a plant alive and she had never actually gone decor shopping herself, so the place was devoid of color, only shades of grey.

Alex groaned and placed her hands over her eyes under her glasses, tilting her spine backward until it hit the back of the sofa. It felt wrong, everything felt wrong, and her skin felt like it was crawling, her bones turning and burning inside her like she imagined cement would feel. It was uncomfortable in a way that wasn't painful- but that didn't stop her from fixating on the discomfort immensely.

The attorney rolled to the side, swinging her heels up onto the couch, one hand cradling her head and the other reaching to tug off her glasses. Strangely, in the dim blue lighting of the sun setting behind heavy clouds, her mind shifted to the opposite of said cold color- it landed on the shade of Casey's hair.

In the DA's office or in court when they crossed paths, Casey was stiff in the way every lawyer Alex had ever encountered was. The degree of rigidness that was learned by years of constant practice of saying and acting exclusively in intentional ways. Still, though, her eyes were always warm, in a way lawyer's eyes seldom were. But when she relaxed, which she was able to do, unlike Alex, she was simultaneously the same and also a completely different person.

She'd be lying to say she didn't know Casey was athletic- despite her unaware that she played softball, or was to any degree interested in her own physique the way her exchanges with Stabler today suggested- Alex had let her eyes linger on the other woman's arms on occasion in warmer environments when the redhead rolled her sleeves up. Her mind constructed the image of running her finger along the toned curve of her forearm, up her arm, and towards the delicate curve of her neck. In her imagination, Casey's skin was warm, and it only warmed further at Alex's motion. When she met Casey's olive-colored eyes, she was already looking back at her, eyes only half-lidded.

She felt her own cheek flush in her palm, and she sat up, shaking off the thought, but the sensation of warmth in her cheeks and the imagined feeling in the pad of her fingertip was enough to pull her off the couch, to the bathroom, where she took off the makeup she had done for court, tugging her suit jacket off, fumbling off her belt.

She wanted out of the porcelain, out of her skin for a night. She had seen the way Casey's guard had flickered up when she had faced her in the squad room, holding a mirror to the rigid body across from her, and she wanted out. The solution to that was to try to force the stiffness out of her soul so Casey wouldn't have any such thing to mirror. She had a reputation to uphold with the rest of the squad, with Liv and with Stabler, but Casey was more perceptive than Liv was- at least when it came to her- and she felt as though she knew enough to play it safe while still getting what she wanted. It would be an issue if Liv or Stabler or any of the other detectives or such lost respect for her professional standing. She was diligent, and hardworking, and she valued that about herself immensely, and she was not about to make the mistake of letting that persona fumble for a night’s activity. But still, she wanted a night where her skin felt like it belonged to her. If Casey's eyes didn't harden when she looked at her, maybe that would be close enough.

Her formal attire was replaced quickly, boot cut jeans instead of her slacks and although she didn't remove her white blouse she layered it with a loose sweater. She ran her fingers through her hair, intentionally messing with it, before nodding with satisfaction at her now slightly more casual appearance. The collar of her blouse sticking up through the neckline of her sweater was enough to not shift the persona the detectives identified with her, but she decided it was enough. It was enough that her uncle would click his tongue at her for wearing jeans while around a colleague.

She then proceeded to sit almost aimlessly on her couch again, drumming her fingers on her lap while waiting for the time to elapse so she could go to the softball field without being the first one there. In her mind, she debated writing up some notes or preparing for a case in the coming week, but she knew if she went back into lawyer mode it would just be worse trying to shake it off again. Unfortunately for her, as a kid all her hobbies were dictated- fencing, equestrian, ballroom dance and such, and since she never really grew attached to any of them and then failed to procure a hobby or pastime in her adult life, she didn't have much else to do.

Her phone chimed and she picked it up, assuming it would be something idle or law-related, only to find a text from a number she recognized, her heart thrumming insistently when it realized whose message she was currently reading.

Casey Novak→ Hello Alex, this is Casey (Novak, the one you work with, in case you know another)

Casey Novak→ Apologies for jumping this on you, but any chance we could carpool tonight? My bike is having a technical issue I can't be bothered with fixing it currently.

She waited a couple seconds before answering with,

← Seems doable. Send me your address?

Casey responded to that within a minute and Alex exhaled, mentally registering where that was, before standing up. With the detour of picking up Casey as well as the fact it doesn't really matter if she's early now because she's accompanying a player, she feels soothed to leave soon.

← Would you find it alright if I came in about a half hour?

Casey Novak→ More than alright, you have my thanks

← I'm more than happy to help.

After a pause, the message goes on read, and Alex doesn't really know what she had expected as a response. Mildly discontented, she put her phone down.

If she wasn't about to be driving, she would drink a glass of wine, but alas that was quite literally the point so she could not indulge herself. She pondered briefly the logistics of getting drunk when she was at the softball diamond, but worst comes to worst she’d just have to taxi. And, she supposed, would have to take Casey also in said taxi.

She felt her jaw grow a bit firmer at the constant resurfacing of Casey Novak in the back of her mind. Alright, sure, now they actually had plans and she was picking her up, so it made sense. But still. It wasn't exactly unlike her to develop random infatuations, desires to knock people she admired and simultaneously was irritated by down a peg, god knows the mistake with Jim Steele- but… Casey seemed… different.

Her heart muttered that Casey seemed warm and alive and her skin seemed soft and she was entirely unlike anyone Alex had ever grown attached to, Casey was not a power play, Casey was not a mind game. Casey was Casey. Alex didn't really understand what that meant.

She clicked her tongue to herself and then decided that no, she would not pursue anything with Casey. She had been toying with the idea of making that dream of tracing up Casey’s forearms with her fingertips a reality, perhaps as a flirty joke she could pass off as drunken boldness. But now her heart started to fumble in her chest at the thought, and not only in a good way. She wasn't exactly sure why her mind was suddenly reeled in the polar opposite direction of what she had been fantasizing about only a couple of minutes ago, but now she felt mildly stressed. Her skin crept little patterns on her nerves like ants blacking out a lamp, eating through power cords.

Maybe the fact she didn't really understand Casey is what sent little alarm bells ringing in her mind. To pursue meant to trust and to trust meant she had to know it all. She felt like she knew essentially nothing.

Sometimes Alex really wished she was less self-aware. She analyzed every thought or feeling she had like it was someone else’s, and therefore frequently felt as though she was drowning in someone else’s brain when in reality she was still sitting on her couch in her apartment in her clothes in her- supposedly her- skin.

It was time to leave now, anyway, so she cut herself off from her own train of thoughts to stand, and collect some items in one of her more used purses in case alcohol was split, it got snatched, or some other random misfortune that may occur to a handbag. Once she was pleased with her level of preparation she double-checked the contents one last time- car keys, one of her more mildly used wallets, phone, power bank, medical emergency kit, a notepad, a block of sticky notes, her pager, and a pen. She pulled a scarf on as an afterthought, not entirely sure if the temperature would drop as it got dark out but decided not to take that risk.

With that, she left her penthouse, standing stiffly in the elevator on the way down, staring at herself in the reflective wall the metal box had. Hmm.

Within twenty minutes, and exactly on time to the thirty minutes she had offered Casey earlier, she was parked on the street outside Casey’s address, looking up at a rather elegant brownstone. Sometimes she mused to herself that the modern aesthetic of her apartment complex far outranked the sort of shabby, oftentimes falling apart older buildings, but this seemed.. it seemed vaguely Elysian. She approved of it.

← I’m outside

Casey Novak → I’m sorry, I’m running a little late. Would you like to come up? I’ll buzz you in.

← I can wait in my car, I don't want to intrude.

Casey Novak → I’ll feel better if you just come on in. I’m inviting you. Please.

Alex blinked at that message, slowly typing out,

← Okay, then. If you're sure.

She exited her car with a furrow in her brow, locking the vehicle, and then continuing the steps up to the doorbell placard, where she found Novak’s name printed in a thin, flat font. She pressed the small silver button next to it, making a mental note of the floor and roughly which door it should be based on doorbell placement. A startling buzzing sound went off that Alex was thankfully prepared for, and she pushed open the frankly unnecessary large wood door. She traveled up the steps, to the third floor, deciding that she should start exercising more often if going up only three floors already had her inhaling a bit sharper, and she didn't need to wander reading the names next to the ringers because Casey’s door was open ajar and she was peeking her eye through the crack.

Alex caught a glimpse of Casey’s smile through the small opening, before the copper-headed woman disappeared in a flash, waving Alex in. She did as instructed, closing the door behind her tentatively. Immediately, she could not see Casey in her own apartment.

“Sorry,” the woman called, “I decided I wanted to shower beforehand so I need to straighten my hair again. That's why it's taking me a minute. Just sit down wherever you like, I’ll be done in just a second.”

“You straighten your hair?” Alex asked curiously, standing awkwardly in the foyer. Although Casey had instructed her to sit, she couldn't imagine pulling a chair out anywhere or settling herself on the younger attorney’s couch.

Inhaling deeply, she resigned to studying Casey's apartment interior with interest.

The interior walls were a smooth ivory, the floorboards a dark wood that matched the accents- the window and door frames, the stairs. Casey’s apartment was a lot more vertical than her own- where Alex had half of a floor, so her apartment was wide horizontally as well as deep, the walls were only a couple of feet on each side in the entry hallway and Alex couldn't imagine the rooms being, well, anywhere as large as her’s. But somehow, the comparison did not change the charm of the apartment.

Perhaps that had something to do with the atmosphere. It smelled like sandalwood and caramel, and the walls were lined with memorabilia- which Alex considered briefly was strange, because Casey's desk and office were almost barren considering some of the other workstations she had seen. She skimmed over smiling faces, Casey with dozens of people she’d see in this photo and never again. Casey with a little girl propped up on her hip, holding a little boy by the hand on a beach, all three smiling at the camera, but in a way that made it seem like it was almost unintentional, like someone had captured a moment in a camera which usually only existed in fond memory. Casey kissing a man with short brown hair, her arms, which seemed slightly thinner in the photo than Alex had grown to know them, (although the woman was always slim,) wrapping around his shoulders. She looked younger, happy, smiling into the kiss, and he did too. Probably during college, Alex mused. Casey’s finger, resting lovingly on his shoulder, was adorned with a silver band. Alex blinked.

She chided herself to move on with her inspection. Whoever this person was, it didn't seem like they were still in her life, unless Casey had been cheating on him with ‘Jane’. Stabler didn't take well to cheaters, so Alex really doubted that. She wasn't sure what the thrum of her heart was meant for- so she just exhaled. She couldn't drag her eyes away from it, though.

When she inhaled again, she was greeted with the scent of whatever hair products Casey was currently employing. It dragged her out of her thoughts, and it made her twinge with guilt at the thought of analyzing Casey’s history through her personal pictures. Casey was kind enough to be undeserving of an inspection.

There was no door between the foyer and the kitchen, so Alex turned to focus on that instead, her blue eyes skimming over what appeared to be a sourdough starter. Music played quietly out of some surround sound speaker, somewhere, something idle, and indie.

The dark brown of the floor was complimented well by the constant appearance of plants- not flowers, but succulents or similar. Apparently, Casey was in the middle of repotting one, because the table had a large tray with items that would suggest that.

“Oh, sorry about that-” Casey mused, appearing suddenly next to her, “I was trying to swap out pots for that one- roots were getting too big, you know, but then I got buzzed for a warrant this morning and dropped it.”

She smelled really good, and Alex wasn't happy that that was the first thing she noticed, but she did. Casey’s perfume, which Alex had noted a couple of times in the DA’s office, had just been freshly reapplied, and her hair was perfect in a way that only lasted a couple of moments after styling it. She looked in a way that Alex could only describe as warm.

Casey was dressed in a blue softball jersey that had ‘Sex Crimes’ bolded on the front in a lacy font and tracksuit pants. The usual frustration carried in her eyes and eyebrows was gone entirely, replaced with lights of excitement that showed in the way she held her hands and smiled. She wasn't wearing any makeup, only a dark lip balm that Alex now wanted to know the brand of.

“And yes,” Casey said, replying to Alex’s comment from a moment ago, despite it having felt like an eternity since then to Alex, “I do have to straighten my hair. Not all of us can be blessed with locks like yours, Miss Cabot.”

Ignoring the teasing nature of her voice as she said Alex’s more formal name, the blonde still lifted her eyebrows as if pained and shot her a look. “Please never call me ‘Miss Cabot' again- It’s just Alex to you.”

“Alright, ‘just Alex’-” Casey said, with an amused huff, before turning and waving at her abode, “verdict? You seemed interested.”

“I-” Alex pursed her lips. Casey was not stupid. If she hadn't been interested, she would've sat down like Casey had initially instructed or been on her phone, or been staring off into space. “I like it. You have a very lovely apartment. It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Casey smiles, pleased, before glancing back down at the houseplant activity. “It would feel better if I had gotten to finish this, though. My mom insists I keep them all.”

“Why?”

“You know how in law school, you’d stay shut in all the time, sleep at horrible hours, and keep the blinds drawn? She bought me a million plants and kept making me show her they were still alive to make sure I was airing my dorm and letting sunlight in. And that I was looking up from my laptop at least for a minute a day.” Casey snorts, but she seems fond of my memory. “I guess she doesn't really insist I keep them anymore. She hasn't checked, anyway. But I got used to it. I swapped out her delicate plants for succulents, though, because I forget to water them sometimes. I’m not here very much.”

“Your mother seems like an attentive woman,” Alex comments, watching as Casey’s eyes grow momentarily heavy, staring still at the plant, before she blinked it off.

“I’ve been blessed,” she answers smoothly instead, “with a wonderful family.”

There's an awkward beat of hesitation, where neither knows what to say, before Casey exhales and forces a smile. “Have you eaten anything? If you're going to drink with Tutuola, you probably need something to eat. And I need to grab my gear and such. If we leave now, we’d still be significantly early.”

“I had breakfast-” Alex starts, before seeing Casey raise an eyebrow at her, “but it was a large one, Casey, I’m not trying to tear up your kitchen.”

“Sweet or savory?” Was the other woman’s only response as she strolled into her kitchen, opening cabinets and ruffling through items.

“I don't have the time to make you something properly right now, but God help it if I let you leave here without eating something.”

Alex stood uncomfortably in the doorway to the kitchen, a small unsure frown on her face, so Casey shot her a pointed look, walked over, grabbed her arm, lightly guided and then shoved her into a chair, and then went back to trying to find something to offer her.

“You seem,” Casey looked at her as if studying her brain through her skull, “as though you’d have a sweet tooth.”

“Why do you say that?” Alex looked at her, slightly indignant. Outside of being used as a method of intimidation, it was normally rude to brazenly note observations as such in the world she was used to. It was far more polite to make it sound as though it was a question.

But Casey just laughed softly, pulling a box out of the fridge and popping the lid. She fumbled with the contents for a few seconds. In the chair Casey had set her down in, Alex could not see what it was until Casey approached, holding a dessert fork in one hand with her other carrying a plate with a generous portion of red velvet cake.

“Fancy ass cake for a fancy ass lady. I made this yesterday, so I think it's still fine to serve you, even if the frosting set a bit more than I prefer. You don't have to eat it all, but I hope you at least try it.”

With that, and not even waiting for a thank you, Casey brushed past, going to collect her sports gear. Alex felt like her head was spinning slightly with the lack of normal procedure. She was being left alone to eat cake in Casey’s apartment? Wasn't the redhead worried she would- well, Casey had commented on the fact she knew Alex was borderline snooping, but to leave her alone after that? How trusting was she? Unless this was some sort of test.

Alex decided to proceed as if it were. What would Casey be testing? How much Alex trusted her? Maybe she thought Alex wouldn't eat food a stranger gave her, well- not entirely stranger, but still. But she couldn't fault her for that, could she? Regardless, Alex wasn't like that anyway. Maybe she was testing if Alex was too prudish to eat what she had provided. That sent a small jolt down her spine- she really didn't want Casey to think she was a snob- so she lifted the fork and in small, precise movements separated a small piece from the slice.

As soon as she felt it on her tongue, she immediately broke off a much larger portion to follow it with. Fuck. It was delicious.

Soft vanilla cream coated somehow equally soft red velvet generously, but not overwhelmingly, and once Alex separated off the middle she could see it was triple layered. The flavor was delicate, but in a way that made every taste bud in her mouth moan.

If she had to go celibate for the rest of her life to eat something like this again, she just might have to consider that. This was better than sex.

“Grandmother’s recipe,” Casey purred, reappearing with a large duffel slung over her shoulder, leaning in the doorway. “Well, not really, but it was one of the first things she made after she got access to the Internet and all the baking blogs one can find on there.”

Alex was physically startled, too engrossed in her eating to have realized Casey’s presence had reappeared. Casey easily could have murdered her while she was eating cake, and she wouldn't have looked up once.

She pushed the plate as if making to stand up, holding a hand in front of her mouth as her mother had taught her- it was impolite to see people see one chew, after all- but Casey shook her head quickly and took a seat next to her, leaning back, the duffel hitting the floor with a soft thud while Casey stretched out her arms, arched her spine languidly. Alex tried not to let her eyes linger on the soft amount of muscle coating her.

“By all means, I don't mean to interrupt your indulgence.”

Alex sheepishly turned back, pausing only for a fraction of a second before returning to shoveling the cake into her mouth as gracefully as she could. Casey looked very pleased, so that settled her nerves by a fraction. She couldn't and also wouldn't complain about Casey's bemused grin.

“It's- it’s just been a while since I’ve eaten anything this good.” Alex said after a swallow, straightening in her chair a little bit, looking at the remaining bites on her plate as if they were whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“You look good like this,” Casey said, which Alex’s eyes widened at, blinking up from the cake to Casey, who strangely looked equally delicious, “you're normally so tense. Glad my baking can fix that.”

“I- uhm,”

Casey chuckled at Alex’s fluster, resting her head in her hand. “Just teasing you. But really, I am glad you're enjoying it.”

“How did you learn to bake like this?” Alex murmured, decided to switch tracks since she wasn't very sure what was happening.

The copper-headed woman only shrugged. “You learn in a family as large as mine. I mean, if both of my parents were busy, I’m not about to let all the younger ones go hungry because the older one decided to order something only for herself. And now all my nieces and nephews demand I make them sugary shit when I’m over, so my pastries are decent enough.”

In the back of her mind, Alex was now a bit upset that she couldn't cook. Casey’s reasoning that it was due to her family made sense, but it also twinged Alex’s mind that if her parents were busy and she had nothing to eat, they'd just call for the private chef to come up and make her something nutritious enough. When she was in college, on her allowance, she had just kept ordering delivery. Casey and her seemed to contrast each other notably in that way.

“How many siblings, if I may ask?”

“Four. I have an older sister, and then there was me, and then two twin brothers and my baby sister. Not that she’s much of a baby anymore- she graduated college last year- but still. She'll always be little to me.” Casey exhaled, evidently very fond, before glancing back up. “And you, Alex?”

“I’m- I’m an only child.” Alex said, after a second, and before she could stop herself, “they needed an heir.”

Casey paused, looking up at her thoughtfully, before nodding. “I wished I was an only child a lot growing up. It's different now that I have my own life and everything, but… mm. Families are complicated.”

Alex nodded sagely at that, finally finishing her cake, and then after a small pause asked, “Did you want your own?”

The second she said it, she felt like it was wrong. It was an intrusion, and she was already in Casey’s apartment in Casey’s chair eating Casey's food with Casey's utensils. She was overstepping everything, and she was asking something from Casey she could not possibly believe she was entitled to knowing, without giving her an out.

Casey froze, her eyes icing over. She stared at Alex for a long moment, who now was sure she had done something horribly wrong, but then Casey’s eyes shifted from blank shock to mildly upset.

“Sorry- yes, I did. It didn't work out that way.”

Alex swallowed, and realized this was a decisive moment. She had relaxed, and she had slipped up, and now Casey was rigid, and if she bounced back off of Casey and tensed, she’d never get what she wanted.

So then, biting back her nature and what she was taught to say in such situations, she said softly, “It didn't for me, either.”

The atmosphere shifted entirely, so much it seemed like the colors had changed spectrum. Alex was now used to how fast her colleague could run through emotions and facades, and although that familiarity was from the courtroom, Casey’s demeanor now changing into something almost like solidarity reminded her a lot of it. Casey dropped her momentary coldness as fast as Alex could put down her form, but unlike when Alex changed the face she wore in order to elicit the response she wanted, Casey seemed like she genuinely just had a change of emotion.

“You're still young, Casey,” Alex continued, encouraged by the attorney’s return to warmth, “it’ll happen.”

“Oh, please. Alex. You’re what- two years older than me?” Casey chided, her voice light. “And you're hot as hell, so I’m sure you have suitors.”

“Casey, have you looked in a mirror recently? If I have suitors, you must have a line from here to the DA’s office.”

“Oh, you charmer.” Casey scoffed, but Alex meant it. She slid her hand underneath the now empty plate, bringing it to the kitchen, before picking up her duffel once more. “And now you get to be my driver.”

“I’m honored,” Alex smoothly joked back, collecting her purse and standing up.

She glanced around Casey’s kitchen, then glanced around the foyer, one last time before she followed the redhead out of her apartment. She noted the shift of atmosphere the second she stepped over the doorstep, and internally found herself hoping it wasn’t the last time she was there.

A more sensible part of her brain reminded her just now that she had decided against pursuing Casey, so such thoughts were not worth lingering on. Another part of her brain indignantly riled that she could enter someone’s apartment without any sort of connotation. A third part of her brain wanted to reexamine the circumstances of the decision to blacklist Casey from the possible companion category, while a third sighed loudly and wished they would all shut up. A fourth part snarled that she was not going to allow herself to be vulnerable with this enigma- yes, despite her niceness and her willingness to provide her with cake she still didn't have any grasp on Casey's psyche, so that's what she was- until she had enough to cover her ass if something went wrong. A fifth part just wanted to see Casey smile at her in the kitchen like that again. The fifth part managed to distract most of the others with daydreams.

Casey understood that Alex was in thoughts, so she did nothing to compel a response, although Alex was sure she thought she was musing about family or law or such.

Nothing was said until they reached the front door of the building, which Casey opened and offered, and then resigned to follow Alex to where she had parked. She gave a low appreciative whistle when she climbed into the front passenger seat tugging her duffel down and into the legroom.

“Fuck. I knew from the outside you had a nice car, but… jesus christ, Alex.”

“What? Oh.” Alex glanced behind her as if only just now registering that. It was a nice car. Her Cadillac had been a birthday present from her uncle, especially because her Bentley was sold off after her death. “I- thank you. Well, only the best for you, right? Now that I’m your cabbie.”

She was rather pleased with the hints of a surprised blush forming on Casey's cheekbones. If Casey kept throwing out random compliments at her, she should return that, right?

“It's just because of my bike-…”

“Please. You’re so quick to dish out the teases until I do so?” Alex hummed, amused, and Casey only huffed in response, pointedly looking forward.

Alex set the softball arena as her navigation’s destination, and allows Casey on aux, the same melodious background sound filling the car speakers as they begin on their way. Being the driver is good. If she was the passenger, she’d be darting her eyes too constantly to look at Casey. Casey apparently does not have this struggle.

“So tell me, honestly,” Alex starts, to fill the silence with a topic she knows Casey will yap over, “between you and Stabler, who has the better swing?”

“Me,” Casey says, with absolutely no question in her voice. “Elliot is good- but he’s too used to his job. In softball, most of the swing is supposed to come from the rotation of the shoulders, not the movement of the arm. Elliot relies so much on the idea of punching he doesn't really get that. He tries to push his palms forward and pushes one shoulder down. Besides, I’ve been playing softball for a much longer time than him.”

“How long?” Alex asked, glancing over at her in the passenger seat. Casey was so forthcoming with information- well, yes, Alex had asked, but…

“Since my sophomore year of high school,” Casey answered, “There was this fight involving one of my little brothers and I- well, that's beside the point. Regardless, the coach took me aside the next day, said he’d never seen someone swing like that, and asked me to try out. I did, and that was that.”

Alex let out an exhale that felt like a soft laugh, so Casey quipped in response, “Have you ever played any sports?”

“Fencing,” Alex offered, “and equestrian, for a little.”

“Equestrian?” Casey perked up, “Wow, that's amazing. I’ve always wanted to try riding a horse.”

“I didn't really enjoy it much-” Alex looked over again, and she realized that was a mistake, because Casey was looking at her with such interest in her eyes that Alex felt as though she needed to run for the hills. “I- I… it just wasn't for me.”

“Why not? If I can ask.”

“My instructors had to scold me constantly for being too stiff,” Alex murmured, trying to make it sound lighthearted despite to some degree admitting the biggest self-struggle she had, “when you're on a horse, the horse has to be an extension of you, the same way when you hold a bat- actually, I’m not entirely sure of that, I’ve never played a ball-sport, but- when the muscles of the horse move, you need to adapt and move with it. Otherwise, the horse becomes vexed.”

“So young Alexandra was just being a vex to horses?” Casey chuckled, and Alex tilted her head at the jest.

“But if you tell anyone, they’d never believe you.”

“Oh trust me,” Casey snorted, “I’m not about to let other people know about baby Alex being a thorn in some training horse’s side. That’s something only I get to know.”

“Hey. You just used the adjective ‘young’, and now ‘baby’- am I regressing? And I was more a pain in their back rather than side, unless I very immensely misunderstood where you're supposed to ride horses.”

In reality, the small thrum in her heart that she now associated with the younger attorney was very pleased with the information Casey apparently felt territorial on information regarding her. She couldn't describe to herself why that made her happy, but it did.

“Sigh. ADAs and their technicalities,” Casey shook her head, “and no, I could never accuse you of regression. You only ascend.”

“Good. Quick study, Casey.” Alex purred, the words a bit too soft and a bit too smooth, although she hadn't really thought about it that way until she saw Casey shift and decided she was very pleased she had said it.

It was Casey’s turn to fall into a blushed silence, her eyes fixing suddenly very straight on the road, as if she had never seen New York City before. Alex felt victorious, and she basked in that feeling.

They arrived at the softball field shortly, and as soon as they pulled over in the dirt parking lot and Casey stepped out of the vehicle with her duffel she was essentially jumped by a collection of random people Alex believed she probably had seen previously in the DA’s office- other ADAs, a couple interns. They surrounded Casey eagerly, spouting game talk- apparently feeding Alex cake had delayed her arrival, and she was the last one, so they had been waiting for it. The copper-headed woman gave her an apologetic wave over the shoulder as she was yanked off, and Alex felt uncomfortable. She tried not to feel as though she had just been shunned. If she had spent less time in her intern years sucking up and networking with her uncle and her uncle’s friends, perhaps she would know some of them. Her career was jump-started, she did not have the bond the others seemed to share of watching each other pull themselves up the ladder- despite knowing logically some of them must have also come from nepotism, at least to some degree.

The softball field was fenced in by wired mesh, and ‘softball field’ was really the only way she could describe it, because it was nothing else. There were a couple of bleachers that reminded her of a cheap high school movie- her school had definitely never had anything like that- but otherwise, it was just a meshed-in square in the middle of a flat field, with a large brick box-like building on the side. She spotted Munch already seated on said bleacher, though, and although she didn't know him as well as she knew Olivia, who her mind had been looking for initially, she wandered over.

“Hey,” he greeted her on arrival, motioning to the place next to him, which she tentatively sat down on after her eyes skimmed it to ensure there wasn't a layer of filth (there was, but she ignored it) “Liv's trying to hype up Elliot. He really wants to get Casey back for the last match.”

“What happened in the last match?” Alex muttered, not especially interested but aware she was required to continue the conversation, inspecting the floor of the bleachers for a place to put her purse. She decided directly beneath her was probably the cleanest.

“She- well, nothing exactly. She’s just ridiculously good. Not many of the DA team have her skill, but so long as she’s there she continuously wipes the floor with ‘em. MVP, easy.”

Munch turns to her, almost accusingly. “Oh, you're rooting for that team, aren't you?”

Alex considered that for a moment, then, “I’m rooting for Casey.”

“But, team-wise, you're on our side?”

“I’m just rooting for Casey.”

Well, we had the whole gay talk in the squad room earlier, so-”

“Careful,” Alex chided, cutting him off with a harsh look in her marble blue eyes, “your boyfriend is here.”

Munch looked over with confusion, then saw Tutuola walking towards them, and shot Alex back a glare through his dark glasses. As if on cue, Olivia materialized and plopped herself down next to Alex, handing her a flask and wiping her mouth with the back of her palm indicative of the fact she had just taken a swallow. “El has been given the best pep talk I physically know how to give. If he doesn't win, I’m done showing up to these.”

“Alex is rooting for the enemy while drinking our alcohol,” John fired, but Alex turned to him and, apparently intimidated, he visibly backed off. Olivia just laughed.

Alex took a swig from Olivia’s flask, grimacing at the feeling of vodka burning down her throat, but she took a second swig almost immediately. She already felt uncomfortable, skin prickling and writhing, and being drunk would make it better.

The game began with little issue, and Casey had meant it when she said it wasn't a real tournament so much so as a large group of very competitive friends being cheered on by a large group of friendly drinkers.

She was bored until Casey took the batter’s stand. Alex had absolutely no clue how softball was played, but Casey looked perfect.

It was probably the alcohol talking. Between her and Olivia, they had made quick work of the flask, Liv because she had started to become anxious on Stabler’s behalf, and Alex because she was double-thinking her decision to show up. But if she hadn't shown up, she never would've gone to Casey’s, she never would've gotten that cake and she never would've seen the younger woman's reaction to being told she was good.

And God, Casey was good. Alex watched her sprint, the way she swung so relaxed but so intentionally, completely in her element. It was dark other than the stadium lights, which definitely were not up to standard, but when Alex caught a glimpse of Casey's eyes she could see very clearly the glint of fierce determination.

John Munch had been very correct that the DA’s team- Casey’s teammates, were not comparable to the copper-blonde’s skill. But to that matter, neither were most of the detectives. Alex noted the reality in the way that Stabler swung as if he was trying to hook something instead of swinging a bat- Casey was right- but he still did fairly well.

Not well enough to keep up with Casey.

Every time she hit the ball with a heavy ‘thwack’ that reverberated in Alex’s spine, every time she started darting, long legs stretching out to slide the last meter, the furrow in her brow, the light reflecting off her hair. Alex felt positively dizzy. That last part could very well be from Olivia’s vodka- or so she reminded herself.

She had tied her hair into a bun- Alex mused to herself it was unnecessary for her to have straightened it, then- but it bounced as she walked up to take- no, own the stand. Her lips were pressed into that thin line she made when she was concentrating in the courtroom and was similarly undeniably attractive here, except the corners of her mouth tugged up in a fierce smile. Her movements were fluid and Alex decided that if she would've done well in equestrian, with the way she moved- her intensity was elegant, her movements as refined as a swimmer’s. Alex felt her chest tighten and her heart pounding as she watched, feeling almost greedy for more sight of Casey.

Other than her, she was displeased with essentially everything else. The people next to her were becoming progressively more drunk and more rowdy, cheering and applauding and calling out encouragement or jests to active players, who would yell incoherently back at them. The bleachers had grit stuck in the groves in the aluminum and she mused to herself she’d need to get the pants she was wearing cleaned.

The game simultaneously lasted fucking forever and was much faster than Alex thought it would be. Casey's team won, so Alex had to deal with Olivia huffing and chastising the DA’s team next to her and John giving her a very pointed look, competitive in the way of the observer, that she returned coldly.

Casey didn't come around until the detectives were almost ready to go. Stabler had returned, clenching his jaw after trying to convince a couple people to do some more practice runs with him, and Olivia bolted to her feet to sympathetically pat him on the shoulder. Alex, after a fraction of a second, rose too, and followed. “I don't get how she does that,” He kept grumbling, and Alex had to agree- but her opinion of that was different.

Alex watched out of the corner of her eye as Casey bounced around- literally bounced around, some of the younger interns were literally jumping with the adrenaline and Casey was mimicking it for their benefit- and they hugged each other tight around the shoulders, fluid motions and hearty laughs, until their noses and cheeks were tinted pink with breathlessness. Casey was here celebrating a win- a double win, now- but apparently, some other girl on the team had just lost a major suit according to someone Alex had overheard on the bleachers and the DA’s team was clearly playing on the enthusiasm and adrenaline to cheer her up. Alex watched as Casey grabbed the other lawyer in a tight hug, then pressed a kiss to her cheek, and her stomach fluttered and she looked away very quickly. She hoped no one noticed.

She looked back in time, though, to see Casey shaking the woman off her arm, and that settled the unease in her bones quickly. The other woman held her hand for as long as possible, looking at her with eyes akin to a lost puppy, but Casey only flashed her a bright smile and kept walking, letting her arm fall loosely over to her side as she walked away. She quickened her pace of exit when she saw Alex looking in her direction, jogging over.

“So, Alex?”

“So yourself. You were fantastic.” Alex chimed, and even though Casey was sweaty and was coated in dirt from the floor of the field she extended an arm to give her a half-hug and Casey took it, resting her head on Alex’s shoulder for a moment before letting go.

The others in the group shared similar observations, albeit half-heartedly, while Casey just grinned apologetically at Stabler who stood staring at her blankly. After a moment, the two exchanged a very informal fist bump, and tension eased from Elliot’s broad shoulders.

They chatter about the game for a while, recounting moments of note or teammates that were new or actions that were game-changing, until it was randomly noticed they were the last ones outside, the other legal system workers apparently having moved on to their own after-party that Alex noted Casey apparently had turned down and the other detectives had sullenly collected belongings and dipped.

“So, McMullen’s?” Stabler muttered, “I could use a beer after all this.”

“That's the one all the way near the precinct,” Munch argued, but Alex interjected with, “Let's do it.” That place was familiar- she had grown accustomed to it, and selfishly it was also very close to her apartment. John was left alone in his argument and they all nodded, separating towards cars with the knowledge they’d meet up shortly.

“You may have to drive,” Alex murmured, “I’m above the legal limit. That okay?”

“I get to drive your fancy-ass car? Hell yeah!” Casey cheered, “That's a reward on its own. Come with me, though, I have to grab my things.”

There was a small building off to the side, big enough to serve its only purpose as being a locker room. There were two doors and no windows, effectively a brick block that had no aesthetical component at all, and the lights flickered on as Casey went into one of the doors and hit the light. It kept flickering, though.

Alex stood in the doorway for a second, wrinkling her nose at the smell of very heavy spray deodorant and sweat, but Casey was talking to her, so it felt rude to let the door close separating the two, and after a second Alex stepped in behind her and tugged the metal door closed behind her.

“Did you mean it, though? That in the fourth inning I-”

“Yes, Casey,” Alex interrupted her, “you played very well. I don't say things I don't genuinely stand behind.”

It was rather endearing that Casey wanted her verbal approval, despite the fact Alex was completely aware Casey knew she had played well. She had been getting a stream of compliments and attention from her peers. It made Alex salivate that Casey had chosen to ditch the girl who had reminded her of a dog to talk to her instead. Maybe that was the alcohol talking. Maybe she should keep reminding herself that it was the alcohol talking.

“Hold on- look away, I’m going to change really quickly, and then we can get going.”

Alex felt her cheeks grow warm but she obediently turned on her heel to face the metal door, hearing the tug of a zipper as Casey stripped off her pants, then the rustling of fabric as her shirt came off, and Alex ground her teeth against each other trying not to imagine what was directly behind her. Casey sighed deeply, and Alex bit into her cheek.

She stayed like that, staring bolts of lightning into the door, until she felt Casey tap her shoulder, relinquishing her of the obligation. “Alright. Car keys, counselor?”

Alex pawed them over from her pocket wordlessly and Casey offered her a confused smile but did not press the issue, letting herself out of the locker room and heading towards the car.

She had changed into a white polo shirt, the top two buttons missing to dip and show her distinct collarbones, the cut of the sleeves emphasizing the subtle but firm muscles of her forearms. Beneath it, she carried dark jeans with a leather belt. She hadn't removed her hair from the bun, even though several strands of hair had fallen out near the front, and Alex tried to fixate on the shape of said bun on the back of her head while following her towards her own car.

Her internal monologue was failing to come up with reasons why she shouldn't be allowed to touch Casey's shoulders just a little bit. She could see the groves of muscle through the polo shirt- a little bit, right? Just a little bit?

Alex turned the music up in the car when Casey put it back on so she wouldn't need to make shaky conversation, and Casey seemed content enough with that. The duffel bag had been discarded in the back, Alex now in the passenger with Casey in the driver.

“You seem happy,” Casey commented finally during a lapse in the music- a long outro, or a long intro- and Alex just smiled slyly back at her. She was.

The bar was wonderfully familiar. Alex followed Casey to the booth in the back, the one their group always frequented, and the others were already there, looking up from menus no one really needed because they'd been there so many times everyone already had a signature.

Alex ended in between Olivia and Casey, the brunette on her left towards the wall, and Casey in the gap between her and the end of the couch. Casey struggled slightly- the booth wasn't large enough to accommodate a group of six people, but Alex was more than happy that it forced Casey to try to curve into her side. She didn't move over, didn't try to shove herself against Olivia to make more room for the redhead. With one leg crossed over the other and her shoulder firmly on Alex's, though, Casey made due.

They chirp orders to a bartender who wanders over, Alex graciously agreeing to carry this first round as she had earlier mentioned. Stabler ordered a beer more expensive than the type he normally drank, and Casey shot him a pointed look. He looked mildly apologetic, and Casey rolled her eyes.

John and Fin quickly began chattering about things below Alex’s pay grade, so she turned her attention towards Olivia and Elliot, who were discussing an upcoming event at Stabler’s children’s high school- a fundraiser, or some other such thing- and Casey listened eagerly. Alex stayed mostly quiet, unaware of how to participate in a conversation about public schools and children.

Besides, she had a much larger problem to attend to.

Casey's arm had snuck around her waist and was currently resting on the slight ridge of her hip.

Logically, she could reason that it was because she was intentionally making it more difficult for Casey to sit comfortably, the younger attorney still awkwardly very close to the edge of the faux-leather booth, but still. Her thumb was resting directly on the iliac crest, and if Alex paid close attention it was almost as if Casey was moving it, the rest of her fingers snaking just below it, grasping at the fabric of Alex’s pants. Maybe this was her punishment for enjoying forcing Casey to wriggle and balance on the very end of the seat.

She opened her mouth to join the conversation, but Casey, as though experimenting, ran her thumb in a line across the jut of her hip bone and Alex stiffened on impulse. As soon as Casey felt her spine tense like that, she hastily let go. Alex wished she could ask her to leave her hand there, though.

Why are you thinking like that, she internally chastised herself, Alex, you don't- you said you wouldn't try to do anything with… but she’s pursuing you, now, isn't she?

“Yes, Alex?” Olivia asked with a note of confusion, and she realized she had made to speak and then lost herself in thought. She didn't really remember what she was going to say, though. Her jaw was still open, but she just snapped it shut and shook her head quickly with a ‘never mind’.

Casey's hand did not return for the rest of the hour or so spent chatting at the bar, despite Alex’s struggling attempts at manifesting. She was uncomfortable, now, not because of Casey, but because of Casey's absence. She was pressed so close to her side but somehow it felt as though Alex had messed up, prematurely rejected her, and that something would shift in the dynamic now. The itch and ache behind her skin got progressively worse as she tried to mask her anxiety behind the mask, when really all she wanted to do was talk to Casey. The copper-headed woman’s conversations always included either Olivia or Stabler or Munch, though, and there was never a moment in which Alex could separate her off to start a banter or a hushed conversation between the two of them alone. So, mostly, Alex just sat there, watching her coworkers indulge in the moment while feeling isolated and cold. Her spine was not able to relax after Casey’s hand had left.

She started to feel sick with the rigidness of her body. She wanted to peel it off.

“You seem distracted,” Casey murmured lightly, her breath warm over the side of Alex’s face, her mouth precariously close as she leaned her face towards the side of Alex’s jaw, speaking into her ear. Alex hadn't even realized she had moved.

She steeled her eyes and turned to stare at Casey coldly, almost as if trying to scare her off, a habit she regretted the second she realized what she was doing- I won't let you get this close, I'm warning you- it said, but Casey simultaneously picked up on it, picked up on her regret, and simply grinned at her. She seemed pleased, even, that she was eliciting a response. Alex fumed inside of her mind at the amount of control the redhead had attained over her in the span of a night that wasn't even over yet.

“I’m fine.” Alex said in a hushed whisper, “Just- just drunk.”

Casey provided a low hum in the back of her throat, placing her jaw on Alex’s shoulder, blinking up at her through slightly narrowed eyes.

“Aren't you, Casey?”

“I assumed I’d be driving. I had a beer, but that was around an hour ago, now.”

“Oh.” Alex shifted, her face heating up slightly, “You're taking me home?”

“Do you not want me to do that?”

“I- but, how would you get home from mine? I don't- I can't really give you my car-”

“I can walk from yours,” Casey responded easily, to which Alex shook her head quickly.

“God, Casey, I’m not letting you walk home alone in the middle of the night, just-”

“Are you two planning on leaving soon?” Olivia interrupted loudly, who had drunk a bit more than both of them and seemed irritated in the way drunk people were. “I cannot wait to get away from this guy here,” the brunette sighed, jabbing a thumb at Stabler, who stared at her incredulously. Like Casey, he had also refrained from drinking so he could drop Olivia and John off.

“Olivia, I’m driving you home, and I stand by what I said.”

“But that doesn't even make sense!” She scolded him, “Why is the plural of mouse mice and the plural of goose geese and the plural form of moose still moose? Who the hell has ever said ‘Oh yes, what a lovely pack of moose there in the distance’-”

“Liv, I didn't say it didn't make sense, I just said it wasn't relevant-”

“Excuse you. This is very relevant to my day-to-day life.”

They blinked at each other for a long, slow moment, and Alex decided she did in fact need to get away from them. But, as she reached for her purse to drop what she owed, shame bloomed suddenly in her heart. Fuck.

She groaned quietly, her index extending automatically to rub the base of her glabella, tilting her head backward and squeezing her eyes shut with frustration and also an unwillingness to share what she definitely needed to.

Her discontent at her mistake triggered something else in her stomach, and she felt the familiar sensation of everything inside of her moving uncomfortably, skin aching and turning. She felt like she was about to be scolded by her father- or worse, her uncle- for lacking composure, for forgetting to keep track of every minor detail and interaction held.

It was important to be on top of everything constantly- no, it was necessary. She needed to. It was drilled into her as much as her skin was part of her anatomy, and regardless of how stressed it made her, she needed it compulsively.

She wanted to be someone else, and now she'd have to pay the price for it.

“Alex?” Casey’s voice sounded mildly concerned, and Alex tried her best to hide the embarrassment in her voice when she turned to the redhead and conspiratorially muttered, “I forgot my purse.”

She knew exactly where it was- well, unless it had been stolen since then, but she knew where she had left it. Putting it directly beneath her on the aluminum bleachers of the softball field had not been a wise choice given the principle of ‘out of sight, out of mind' and her lusting after Casey and Casey’s ridiculously attractive shoulders had not helped to remind her to grab it before they left.

Luckily she always kept three hundred dollar bills in her phone case in case of an emergency, so she popped it open and removed one to cover the table, waving off the others who tried to offer her change and similarly dismissing people offering to cover her drinks the next time the group joined at a bar.

“Well, we’ll just go back for it, then.” Casey replied smoothly, and Alex thanked the heavens Casey had not taken this as an opportunity to try to tease her, because Alex genuinely would've gotten mad if she had.

“But that's- that's half an hour each way,” Alex sighed, “and I’ve had too much to drive, but I don't want to ask you too-”

“Extra time with you? I can't complain. Come, now.” Casey grinned, swiping at her shoulder gently the way she had with Elliot earlier, and Alex couldn't help but crack a weak smile and follow her and she made her way out of the bar, waving goodbyes to the others.

“I meant it, though,” Casey starts once they're outside of the building, “you did seem distant back there. Is everything… alright?”

“I-” Alex started without meaning to, clamping her jaw shut and watching Casey unlock her car so they could both climb in, Casey placing the duffel in the back again as prior.

She watched the younger attorney raise an eyebrow inquisitively, which she responded to with a loose sigh.

“Nothing.” She said blankly, and listened as Casey echoed her sigh.

Alex could see the gears churning in Casey's head as they both clambered into Alex’s Cadillac, Casey’s eyes roving over the interior with awe once more. The copper-headed woman wasn't verbally pushing her to explain her issue but Alex wasn't stupid enough to think Casey would let it drop. She briefly worried that Casey thought it was her fault, but if she did, maybe she wouldn't provoke an explanation, and Alex was okay with that. She didn't feel like she wanted to verbalize this discomfort with Casey.

This car drive was again quiet, but not because Alex was in a state of drunken content, but rather because Alex was fighting personal demons and Casey was trying very hard to run through every possible list of what could've upset the older attorney.

“It was just one of my mulberry set, so it doesn't matter that much if it's actually missing or if someone stole it.” Alex said finally, to fill the void of silence.

Casey squinted at her, trying to figure out if that was sarcasm, but it didn't seem to be.

“I’m not going to grant that a response,” she said finally. “You rich kids are something else.”

Alex thinned her lips into a straight line but didn't respond. Casey was right, of course, they had very different upbringings. That's why Casey's skin suited her body, and Alex’s was constantly irritating her.

Neither attorney tried to fill the void of silence after that, not even with music, Alex staring blankly out of the side window while Casey focused on the dark road in front of her. Alex had moved on from her demons to anxiously smoothing her thumb in little patterns on her wrist, very uncomfortable without a distinct reason. This wasn't really about the purse, to put it plainly.

After what felt like an eternity, Casey pulled over, and Alex stumbled out of the car. The place was utterly devoid of people, although the lights were still on for some reason, and it wasn't hard to spot the dot of her bag in the distance even with her glasses. There was a light behind the bleachers that illuminated the spaces between plates of metal and she could make out a shape that blocked out the light exactly where she had been sitting. Without checking to see if Casey was following, she set out, wincing at the feeling of gravel and damp dirt beneath her shoes.

She had picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder before she registered Casey’s presence again, behind her, and the attorney's voice was soft as she spoke.

“Put it back down, Alex, play ball with me.”

Alex froze.

“What?”

“Play ball with me,” Casey echoed, and when Alex turned around the copperhead was simply tossing the softball up and down in one hand without even looking at it. Casey’s eyes were instead fixated intently on her.

Alex shrugged her purse strap tighter to her side as if it were a life raft of sorts. “I don't play sports, Casey-” she tried, but Casey just shook her head slightly, the bun that had slowly been coming out over the duration of the evening bouncing along with the rotation of her head.

“Just catch it,” Casey soothed, “and if you really hate it we’ll go back to the car. Put your purse down- come off the bleachers, come over here.”

It was hard to disobey when Casey sounded so direct, so after a moment of hesitation and a minor internal thrashing Alex set her bag down once more and stepped off the bleachers, onto the grass where Casey was. She knew her face must be exerting a twisted, concerned expression, but although Casey’s eyes were soft they were also immensely firm. Determined.

“I don't know… how to catch a ball.” Alex said lamely, holding her hands out stiffly in front of her. She was rewarded for her confession with Casey’s chuckle.

“Don't think about it,” Casey said, “just focus on me. You’ll catch it.”

The redhead paused her casual toss-catch rhythm, cupping the ball in her palm and letting her arm hang down by her side. She smiled reassuringly at Alex, who hadn't felt nervous like this since grade school.

“You've been doing fine focusing on me tonight,” Casey teased, after Alex hadn't answered, and Alex flushed, “so- should be doable. Ready?”

Alex wanted to curl into a ball and hide, honestly, so no, she wasn't ready. Straight spine, stiff shoulders, her head feeling like it was propped up on a pedestal rather than a neck. Her hands still were held loosely in front of her, as though someone was passing her a wine glass to nurse rather than a ball to catch, and her feet were right beside each other in the ‘natural’ resting position for her- which had been very unnaturally taught, and then forced, until young Alex did not automatically stand any other way. Casey’s brow quirked as if this was amusing to her.

The blonde’s brow furrowed in anxious concentration, and she took a quick breath, trying to focus on Casey as the redhead had so advised. And despite her teasing tone, she had been right, it was easy for Alex to focus on her.

It was really dark out, now, so Alex could only see the parts of Casey that were illuminated by the overhead beam, but it was angled in a way that she could still see most of her. Casey’s eyes were teasing but attentive, and her posture was entirely relaxed. She didn't look like she had when she was actually playing, which relieved Alex immensely.

When Casey had been playing, she had seemed athletic and agile, with muscles that rippled under her skin the way that a leopard’s might as it pounced. Now, more similarly to her courtroom appearances, her arms had relaxed back into how they normally appeared- although they always looked wonderfully lean- only slightly more built than the average woman’s. Her fingers were lithe as they wrapped around the softball she held, a degree of comfort interacting with the object that read easily as years of experience. Alex tried not to note the details of how the white polo shirt clung and accentuated her bust, or the curve of her waist. Casey’s stance- leaning slightly, more weight on one leg than the other casually, did not help Alex scrape her eyes off of her figure. She felt herself relax, slightly, drawn in by the details of the other woman’s form. She supposed it was easy to stop paying so much attention to herself and everything that was right or wrong in herself and her posture when she was given permission to study someone as- well, frankly, hot- as Casey.

“I’m ready,” Alex said after a long pause, running her tongue over her dry bottom lip to ease the nerves. She wasn't sure what prompted her to say it.

Casey eased her arm in a low arc, passing it once, then twice, the arc getting larger each time, before curling her fingers around the ball as she let it go in a firm underhand toss. Trained as she was, it flew in a bow formation, slow and controlled as it made its way directly towards Alex, who caught it instinctively, trapping it between her two palms.

She looked up at Casey with eyes as concerned as if she was carrying a grenade, and Casey laughed, her hands on her knees, evidently pleased.

“Good! Go on, throw it back to me.”

Alex’s nose scrunched up with focus as she tried to recreate the same motion Casey had done, her limbs feeling weird and disjointed, stiff and loose, unlike the fluid motion Casey had produced. But regardless, she threw it.

Casey catching it was entirely due to the redhead’s own ability, because unlike when Alex had caught it due to Casey’s precise aim, Alex had no clue how to direct the ball properly, and it fell short by about a meter, which was anticipated the second the ball left her hand by Casey who scrambled to get it, achieving the fear with only a mild degree of difficulty.

“You did it!” She cheered, bouncing with excitement the way she had when she had won the softball match hours prior, and Alex couldn't help but acknowledge her enthusiasm as very infectious. A small, genuine yet shy smile played on her lips and Casey darted backward again, taking her stance to throw it once more, which Alex did not move to protest.

Unlike last time, when Alex had caught it very close to her chest, the blonde with some degree of determination reached her arms slightly higher, managing to catch it while it was still in the air above her. She still used both hands, but it was a stark degree of progress.

Alex's face split open into a grin of genuine emotion, now, a smile that awkwardly expressed the strange pride she felt at managing the relatively very simple task, and without hesitation she threw it back to Casey, using enough force this time- correcting her precious mistake- so the ball was easily once again resting in Casey's hand.

“Look at you go,” Casey beamed, the corners of her eyes angling with the intensity of the smile she flashed Alex with, “now, this one’s harder, okay?”

This time, Casey threw it overhead, albeit still much gentler than she normally would. Her previous throws were meant to land directly at Alex’s stand, but this one aimed for a foot or so behind her. The blonde, however, had seemingly gained enough understanding of the ball’s arch to realize, hastily taking a few steps backward to once again encase it.

Alex mused to herself that she felt as though she was getting the hang of this, so she returned the ball once more, still using underhand, watching as Casey bounced backward twice to give them more distance. She threw it, and Alex realized it was flying too far to the side, and she scrambled in that direction, bending down strangely but managing to catch the softball before it hit the floor.

She looked up with a very sheepish expression, but was rewarded with the sight of Casey smiling as if it were Christmas morning, and she relaxed, standing up. Casey had apparently taken a few more long strides backwards, away from her.

“I can't throw that far, come closer.” She called, but Casey shook her head.

“You can make it to me- try out throwing overhead.” Casey urged, “And if it falls short, I’ll run and get it anyway.”

Alex stood, awkwardly still for a long second, staring at Casey, who just kept her bright smile. After a second, she glanced at the ball in her hand, and, mimicking Casey’s movement once again, extended one arm behind her slightly, rotating her torso, and then shot it forward, leaning forward into her swing.

Although she stumbled, looking up prematurely to see if the throw would arc the way she had wanted it to, it did fly almost all the way to the other attorney, who easily lifted a singular hand to catch it in her palm.

This time, Casey did not wait for Alex to recompose before swinging- and she did it differently, this time, lifting a leg to fire the ball at her the way she had during softball except with a bit less force. Enough force, though, that although Alex again scrambled for it, the softball flew too far to the side and the blonde woman ended up on her knees in the shortly clipped grass. She turned her head to stare indignantly at her companion, who just poked the tip of her tongue out of her mouth nonchalantly and motioned for Alex to go fetch.

She would never do anything so.. unpretentious. However, with Casey patiently grinning at her, Alex sighed, standing, brushing off her knees quickly, and then briskly pacing to retrieve the ball, which had landed only a few meters to her side.

“Are we done, counselor?” Novak called from her place a ways away, and Alex raised her eyebrow at the other woman incredulously.

“After that?” She scoffed, and threw the ball again more forcefully, purposely not really aiming at Casey who thus had to hasten towards it, reading its path but still needing to scurry multiple meters, catching it but only just barely. Alex refused to note how elegant the motion was, despite how awkward it really should've seemed.

Alex did not have the time to further study Casey’s elegance because the redhead was already firing back at her, one leg raised high at the knee as prior, and that only really made her understand how attractive Casey’s legs were- her undivided attention to the attorney’s arms had made her miss out on something else equally appealing.

This time Casey was gracious enough to aim at her once more, and Alex caught it, each grab easier than the previous.

They repeated this exchange, Casey’s throws were much smoother and intentional, except she kept occasionally throwing slightly higher or lower or to either side to force Alex to move herself. Alex occasionally missed her grab or not being able to close the distance in time, which only fueled her play intensity when she returned the ball. Alex’s throws were mostly loose, but for the most part, they went far enough, and Casey was more than happy to scramble for them, ending up on her knees multiple times but never failing to catch it firmly.

Casey had started laughing, at some point, delighted to be playing no matter how bad her play partner was, and Alex hadn't even realized when her grin became permanent and her exhales started to sound like breathless giggles.

Eventually, Alex’s breathing started coming faster, and there was a thrum in her heart unrelated to Casey, and said woman realized the blonde was starting to get tired. She stopped the back and forth once the ball returned to her palm, choosing instead to jog over.

“Let's try something- hold this.” She murmured, tossing the ball into the air, which Alex now easily and casually managed to snag.

She reached over and adjusted Alex’s position, smooth hands gliding to shape the rotation of the older woman’s shoulders, lightly pressing to move her hips, gliding across her arms to rearrange the assortment of limbs.

She then turned to stand beside her, mirroring the posture she had just moved Alex into, looking at her with a sly grin. “Now, when you throw, I want you to curve like this-” she demonstrated, her motions causing the fabric to ruffle, her shirt rising up slightly at the hem to tease Alex with a thin strip of the woman’s abdomen, “and raise your leg like this, and then,-” she made a hushed whooshing sound, a cartoonist version of a ball being thrown.

Alex nodded obediently, starting to prepare herself before Casey shook her head quickly. “Give me a headstart- I go on two, and you go on zero. Okay?”

The blonde was now mildly confused on what Casey was attempting, but regardless nodded, frozen in the position Casey had sculpted.

“Five, four, three..” Casey counted down, slowly creeping her body down into a low lunge, “two-!” she bolted forward, and then Alex understood, mentally counting down the last two numbers before flinging the ball as hard as she physically was able to.

She was then content to straighten out, catching her breath, while watching Casey sprint after it. Her strides were so long and so light Alex wasn't sure she was even really touching the ground. With the movement, her ever-loosening bun snapped open, and auburn hair flowed as if cascading behind her, and Alex's breath caught still in her lungs.

Even though the ball did manage to outfly her sprint, she was damn near close when she dove for it, sliding on one knee to retrieve it, skidding to a halt a little ways away from where she had initially landed. She jumped up, shook herself off, and then jogged back, a breathless grin on her face.

“I thought I had it,” she panted, “I’ve always wanted to try doing that.”

The copper-headed woman proceeded to flop down on the grass, rolling so she was lying on her back looking up at Alex who was still breathing with a little more labor than she’d like to admit from their previous shenanigans. After a second, Alex carefully sat down next to her, near but not close enough to be on her loose hair by accident.

“You were very close,” Alex agreed, eyes never leaving Casey’s enthusiastic ones. “I didn't know people could be that fast.”

After a brief second, she reached out and rested her hand on the front of Casey’s shoulder, who blinked up at her. It was a reassurance that Alex’s earlier silence wasn't her fault, Alex tried to convey, that Casey had done nothing wrong and everything right.

Casey sat up to look at Alex more directly, but she raised a hand to keep Alex’s fingers resting on the flat of her chest and an inch below her collarbone. Her face was close to Alex’s leaning forward so boldly Alex almost thought to lean back.

“You look good like this,” She cooed so lightly it was almost smug, almost victorious, “you’re normally so rigid, so overtly mannered.”

It was then that Alex realized she had not registered anything of herself outside of trying to figure out how to position her arm to throw better for the past while.

Nothing had seemed to exist outside of Casey laughing gleefully across the field, bouncing from one foot to the other while waiting for her to launch her softball back to her- as much as Alex could launch it- and as soon as the ball had left her hands, the only thing she thought of was the sight of Casey running to snatch it midair, her hand itching to feel the leather again so she could try again, see if she could throw it farther, and more forcefully.

See if she could make Casey laugh harder, the giddy sound almost echoing in the night, filling the void and almost creepy vacant softball field with audio so genuine it made Alex’s heart flutter. See if she could elicit another called praise, or another witty comment from the woman she had been eyeing so intently.

Her limbs and joints felt loose but connected, blood racing through her veins happily as if finally allowed to dart around her body, resurfacing energy and releasing dopamine in a way she hadn't felt in what must now be years. Her bones felt as light as a bird’s, and her skin was so enthusiastic at the play it nestled onto her body like a puzzle piece that finally clicked into place, and even now that she was finished, it felt like her own. For once, Alex had earned the right to feel comfortable in her own skin.

She hadn't cared to ponder what she must look like, in a blouse layered by a sweater in a field with her glasses, tripping over herself to try to play ball with a woman who could pass as a semi-professional athlete. Her chest must be heaving in an effort to catch her breath, her lungs entirely unused to anything more strenuous than stairs, her legs long but her ability to use them only equivalent to a fawn’s. But whenever she had caught Casey's playful eyes, they looked at her like her stumbling self was a million bucks, and that was enough for her.

This was enough for her. Her goal for the night had been realized in full.

“What are you thinking about, counselor?” Casey breathed, and Alex realized she had leaned even closer, dark green eyes searching her’s as if she could read words in Alex’s pupils.

Alex almost thought she was assuming something until she caught the microaction of Casey’s eyes darting to her lips, before glancing up a fraction of a second later with a hint of shyness in her expression- something Alex had never seen, but certainly wasn't complaining about- and Alex was more than happy to indulge her, seeing as how Casey had spent the last hour trying to ensure Alex could ease some of the rigidness from her soul.

She left the hand Casey had touched on her collar, but brought her other hand up to cradle the back of the redhead’s skull, closing the small gap between their faces, and pressing her lips gently against the other woman’s.

Casey let out a small, whimpered sound, and Alex tried to let her go, only to be tugged back with ferocious intensity.

The younger woman pushed her into a more structured sitting position, one leg swinging over Alex’s lap to straddle her hips, Casey’s hands cupping the sides of Alex’s neck, one thumb on her jaw. Her lips were so soft, but so exhilarating, Alex felt as though she could melt, Casey pulling them apart every couple seconds just to come back closer a second later. Due to the nature of their position, Alex had to crane her neck to angle her face up at her, the column of her throat exposed, and Casey was clearly thrilled, her hands exploring her jaw and below it, soft touches that felt rather greedy.

Alex was finally able to take what she had been fantasizing about- when Casey pulled them apart for a second, panting for breath much harsher than she ever had while exercising, she untangled her hand from the auburn locks she had grasped and ran her hand instead down Casey’s shoulder blade, reveling in the feeling of the soft muscles and the small noise Casey made when she did so, catching the woman’s mouth once more to swallow the sounds she made as her hands both moved to smooth over Casey’s biceps, her triceps, her forearms, and then back up again.

“Alex,” Casey breathed into her mouth, before Alex shifted, pressing her back into her lips, to which Casey had no protest. The copper-headed woman’s hands stopped so much exploring as they did holding for support, and Alex mused to herself- the first coherent thought to break through the haze of bliss she had found herself in- that Casey must have thought she’d be the one to have the other squirming. The thought amused her, and only compelled her to continue feeling her up.

“Alex-,” Casey was whining now, Alex’s hand slipping behind her lithe figure to her shoulder blades again, running her fingers down savoringly before turning her attention to her ribs, using her thumbs to brush against her breast only slightly before moving down her to waist, utterly enraptured.

Alex bucked her hips, startling Casey as the blonde pushed her off entirely, and then kept pushing, rolling them over until Casey was flat on her back, and Alex was over her, her knees buried hard into the dirt to keep her above in a way that would've made her quite upset at the grass stains they’d be sporting later had she not been so enchanted by the feeling of Casey moving, Casey’s muscles bunching and twitching as she moved against her.

“Oh,” Casey gasped, and Alex paused, raising her hands to either side of Casey’s head so she could smile down at the woman whose cheeks were so red they almost matched her hair.

Her blonde hair fell to frame Casey’s face, who breathlessly tried to push it out of the way so she could see the triumphant gleam in Alex’s eyes, and then Casey propped herself up on her elbows to land a soft kiss on Alex’s grinning lips.

The normally overtly composed woman broke into a giddy laugh, sitting up, before rolling to the side so she could lay next to Casey in the dark grass. Casey snorted lightly at the sound of it, rolling to the side so she could study Alex’s gorgeous side profile as the woman looked up to the dark night sky above them.

“I guess this solves the issue of us going to separate apartments with only one car,” Casey breathed, and that just made Alex laugh harder, lulling her head to the side to meet Casey’s eyes and see her quiet smile.

All of Alex’s strings had been cut. Right now, she felt anything but stiff. Anything but rigid.

#alex cabot #calex #casey novak #casey novak x alex cabot #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #svu #lesbian #olivia benson #elliot stabler #alexandra cabot

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estcaligo · 4 months ago

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I saw one interesting point on twttr but my tl refreshed 😢

Anyway, the line in Silver's official profile on twst website is

Which can be translated as:

"Malleus-sama, this is getting out of hand."

"Malleus-sama, this might be going too far..."

Or even

"Malleus-sama, that's quite enough of your games!"

Here we have the word asobi (遊び), which primarily means "to play" or "to have fun" etc. At first, we might think that Silver is saying Malleus is getting too distracted or carried away with his playfulness.

Something like "it's about time you stopped fooling around my Liege"

However, asobi can also be used in the context I mentioned above.

And now, knowing what we know, this line sounds like foreshadowing...

#on en website this is changed to some pointless line about training but the sound is still saying this line lol #twisted wonderland #twst #twst silver #silver vanrouge #diasomnia #book 7 twst

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svnarin · 11 months ago

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this is one of the parts from my scrapped suna fic :D (suna x fem!reader)

for context!

Suna is well aware that he is attractive—that many girls from Inarizaki University look on his way and fawn over him whenever he passes by, some whom he even remembers tried sliding into his dms. As one of the core members of the university’s volleyball team, along with his undoubtedly good-looking features and the enigmatic persona he conveys, there is no denying that he would end up as one of the popular guys at the university.

To Suna, getting a girlfriend would just be a piece of cake. There are already a lot of girls who are attracted to him—waiting for him to give them a chance. He could easily just pick one fish in the sea that he finds interest in and that would be it. Well, that is what he had initially thought, because who would have thought that he would get humbled so easily the day he met you?

part after he met you earlier that day (the only part i would be sharing)

Suna is immediately on his phone that night—acting like a detective trying to find your social media so that he can finally learn something about you. The only clue that he has is your name or rather the name you were called earlier. But even with only one clue, it didn’t really take him much time until he finally found your public Instagram profile.

Suna scrolled through your posts and immediately learned five things about you: one, you are a sophomore just like him; two, you are currently taking creative writing; three, you are a member of Inarizaki University’s journalism organization; four, you are single, which is a good thing for him; and five? Oh, this one surprised him the most that he even refreshed your profile multiple times, thinking he might have just been mistaken.

What is it about the fifth one that surprised him the most? Well, maybe it is the fact that you are not following his Instagram account despite following the Miyas, Aran, and the university’s official account for the volleyball team. He doubts that you don’t know him at all. He is always present in the Miyas’ comment section and tagged in posts by the university’s official account for the volleyball team, so why are you practically following everyone from his team but him?

From what he can view from your profile, you seem quite active enough on social media. Some posts could be seen on your profile—the most recent being posted just a week ago. You even have a story that was just posted hours ago, and Suna didn’t hesitate to view it only for him to see you just reposted the latest announcement from your organization.

Without any hesitations, Suna immediately sent you a follow. Maybe this time you would notice that he also has an Instagram account and give him a follow back, right? He rarely makes the first move, but since it seems like you already know his account exists, wouldn’t it be such a shame if you reject such an offer of becoming Instagram mutual with someone like him, right?

The following morning came by. Suna opened his phone to look at the time and scroll through TikTok. He had completely forgotten what he had just done the other night, but everything came rushing back into his memory when he suddenly received a follow notification from Instagram.

See? Easy. You’re easy. Suna immediately thought as he sat up from his bed to stretch his upper body. About time. He grinned to himself with pure satisfaction only to immediately turn into a deadpan when he read the Instagram notification to realize it was not you but just some other girl he would definitely just forget later on. Rolling his eyes, he drops his phone on the bed before heading to the bathroom, thinking that you are probably still asleep so that is why.

𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

#⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 : 𝐇𝐐 #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyu x reader

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vykodlak · 7 days ago

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how did you learn to render realistic light/volumes so well? your work looks real to my eyes in a way i cannot wrap my head around

I mention having studied as a sculptor for 4 yrs a lot when I get asked about my process but I really do think it was extremely helpful to my 2D art progression (more than anything else, really - I kinda sucked at sculpting).

It hardwired my brain to think of everything I make in 3D terms. Even when we were doing figure studies on paper, it was emphasised that we imagine the figure in three dimensional volumes, and pay attention to how the light and shadows wrapped 'round each individual form. Now, when I paint, I think of "sculpting" the painting out with my brush - when I add shadow to a cheekbone, I imagine I am smoothing the form away with my thumb in order to make the plane of the cheek curve more towards the darkness, and I imagine the different values within that shadow area as well. When I carve out a piece of the nose to form its shape, I think of how this new shape affects the shadows it is casting on the cheeks or mouth. Knowing exactly where your light source is from the start is very important for this.

And I know "think of everything in 3D and imagine the light/shadows wrapping around an object" is super common advice, but I don't think a lot of people mention that it's not just a mindset you can slip into immediately, it's something you have to train up just like any of your other art skills. You kinda have to brute force yourself to ignore that you're working on a flat canvas, and let go of all shorthands (instead of only visualising the nose as a flat image, as it exists in profile in the image you're referencing, imagine how it might look if suddenly the model turned their head towards you. Think of how the planes of the nose are curving away from you to create that rounded shape of the tip, think of what you can't see but you know exists on the other side, etc.)

But of course, it's hard to do this if you've never studied what a nose looks like at different angles. You need to build your mental library so you can enter that space easier. So 3D reference in general is still very important to me; I work better when I can spin something around and see how the light changes or curves because it helps me understand it, rather than just copying what I see in flat 2D ref. I rarely guess at anything I'm not sure of - whenever I need them, I either take references of myself or someone I know, and sometimes I use a simple head sculpt I made in blender ages ago when I'm lazy/need to figure out a more complicated lighting situation. I treat every drawing as a learning experience and try to solidify more of my existing knowledge through it. I even had a small head I'd sculpted in real clay for a while. When I'm in the mood for doing studies I'll sometimes set up a bunch of different lighting scenarios with the 3D head or a 3D-printed skull I have and do quick micropaintings, to refresh my memory. One of the other things I do, for example, is take a flat reference imagine whose lighting I like, re-create that lighting in 3D, then turn the 3D head around to see how it would look under that light source at different angles.

I'm also constantly observing things in the real world. Whenever I'm watching movies my eyes and brain are immediately drawn to the lighting and colors, how the shadows change whenever someone retreats from dark into light etc. I make notes of these or screenshot to do studies later. Whenever I'm hanging out with people and I notice an interesting lighting situation happening I ask them to let me take a picture so I can study it later, or add it to the reference vault. I love to people watch, I look at nature, I'm probably the spaciest person to hang out with but it's helped with the art lmao. Again, this is also something that you can consciously train yourself to do, it didn't come innately to me.

And uhh, honestly sometimes I think it helps that I use a lot of dramatic lighting in most of my portraits. It's easier to sort of "cheese" three dimensionality when you have such a defined separation between dark and light. The first thing I do is paint in the darkest shadow on any painting, then work outward from that. You can use things like the shadow's penumbra, the terminator shadow and ambient occlusion to push the three dimensionality further.

Anyway in relation to this I think of painting more in terms of value rather than color. I don't paint in b&w but over time I've come to learn the values of colors instinctively, though I sometimes apply a black and white filter on top and toggle it on whenever I wanna check if I'm on the right track. Then on top of that, apply colour theory such as different coloured bounce light and sub surface scattering, the colors in different zones of the face, etc.

To summarise, it mostly comes down to studying a lot, training yourself to visualise everything in a 3D space, being observant, making every drawing a learning experience, and training yourself to discard what you 'think' an eye or mouth looks like so you don't fall back on those shorthands whenever you're drawing something more realistic. Grab some clay and make a ball, do some studies of it.

Hopefully this helped shed light on my thinking process in some way; explaining things is usually when I remember english is my second language, I never know if I'm making any sense haha.

#text #as much as training myself to think like this has been helpful I also feel like it's been a bit detrimental #because I have a harder time making cartoonier more stylised art even when i want to.#also of course I am hugely inspired by artists who do a lot of realistic portraiture and I stare at their paintings a lot & save them #pinterest hates 2 see me coming

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lotties-ashwagandha · 8 months ago

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YELLOWJACKETS & HALLOWEEN (headcanons)

i did headcanons like this last year but i don’t know where they went so im making them again! this is for adult yellowjackets and is sfw. i did not take writing these seriously.

SHAUNA

horror movie queen. halloween is the one night of the year where she can let out her inner freak without getting judged for it and she takes full advantage

she wants to watch slasher movies. she wants to binge watch scream and halloween and also weird supernatural horror and then she wants to have in-depth discussions about what the two of you thought was good and bad and meaningful and not meaningful afterwards

i think halloween for her was very different when callie was little though, she obviously couldn’t spend the night with a six year old having a scream marathon. i can see her really loving the halloween nights when she would take callie around trick or treating and handing out candy, it was something pure and fun to celebrate every year and it was refreshing to her.

now listen to me though. i feel like she would be anti pumpkin spice fight me on it but she would say it tastes like chemicals. she won't be going near it.

LOTTIE

“carving this pumpkin will heal my inner child spiritually” she says the day before halloween and then she cuts her hand, gets pissed, and her night is ruined

but listen. i know this woman pulls out all her orange, black, purple type caftans in the fall. she WILL be color coordinating with the seasons like pinterest’s number one freak

decorating for halloween with her would be such an intricate practice too, you obviously wouldn’t do it on halloween but going and getting some new decor for the house every year and discussing the aesthetics and what theme you want around the wellness center for fall and halloween would be so much fun

dare i say pumpkin spice latte queen? except she can’t handle leaving hippie wellness center so she learns to make everything at home and she builds a starbucks equivalent in your kitchen

in general I think she would try to stay away from horror films or anything like that on halloween, she's especially not watching any supernatural horror because it fucks with her now after all of the things she’s seen that were “supernatural” in the wilderness but she would love more stereotypical cute halloween movies like hocus pocus or even practical magic. you have themed movie dates and drinks and watch them together. 😋

TAISSA

she doesn't hand out candy she hands out dirt and sits in her favorite tree

just kidding i guess

i think she would love halloween though in general, especially celebrating it with her son. when he was really little she definitely had matching costumes or at least costumes that went together with sammy, like how families will dress up as the incredibles with their kids or as the addams family

she would do something with her political campaign when it comes to halloween, too. i don't know what it would be, maybe some weird costume contest online or idfk but she goes halloween crazy and every part of her life is going to be involved in it

she's also the queen of pumpkin carving because she would get so intense about it. no one can bother her during pumpkin carving or they're getting their ass lit up like a jack-o-lantern candle

like shauna, she is on the anti pumpkin spice team.

VAN

van thrives during halloween season. put her in front of the television with some old horror films and you wont hear from her for a month

she loves going to pumpkin patches and corn mazes too. she's probably who got taissa into carving pumpkins. she would love those giant pumpkin patches and farms where you can go apple picking and pet goats and shit. her profile picture on every social media platform is an awkward selfie of her feeding a goat

van is also an apple cider fiend in my opinion, and those funky apple cider and pumpkin donuts

like lottie she is on the pro pumpkin spice team, she loves it.

NATALIE

young natalie would have loved halloween, but i feel like adult timeline natalie would be relatively over it unless she had a partner that really loved halloween. if you can get her back into the vibe she'll be so into it, but she probably wouldn't do much if just living alone

if she's handing out candy she's going to try to scare as many children as possible. it becomes a mission that only the bravest children will leave with candy after trick or treating at her place. she'll jump out at them with masks or have some of those animatronic decorations that scream at people in the yard once the motion censors are triggered.

she has a bomb as fuck fall playlist too but it's not spooky scary skeletons and that shit it's old rock music

she's relatively neutral when it comes to pumpkin spice, not particularly passionate about it either way.

MISTY

if there is any holiday that screams misty quigley, it's halloween

oh she has so much fun

she will find a way to get a costume custom made for caligula each year and then she'll post pictures of him in all of the bird-related reddit communities she's in.

she hyperfixates on the history of halloween and will info dump to you about it

also loves scaring children but loves scaring adults even more

might try to break into your house at night as a halloween prank because she doesn't know how far is too far

pro pumpkin spice.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews x reader #shauna sadecki x reader #shauna shipman x reader #taissa turner x reader #van palmer x reader #misty quigley x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets headcanons #adult yellowjackets x reader

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el-bibi · 12 days ago

Text

Million-dollar date│Lando Norris

pairing: lando norris x ofc

word count: 3.7k

warnings: smut (MDNI), light cursing

A/N: this took such a long time to write but I'm happy with how it turned out. also, it's my first time writing smut that is this detailed so have mercy :) enjoy!!

Summer 2024, Monaco

"Alright, what's the matter with that phone? You've been scrolling for hours." Leonardo's voice filled Sofia's ears. She had been tanning on the upper deck of the yacht she had rented with her friends and got slightly distracted by her phone.

"None of your business," she smirked as her friend flopped down on the couch next to her, peeking over her phone, which she promptly hid.

"Did you seriously download it? It's just a waste of time." The man scoffed.

"Exactly, I have time to waste," she smirked. "Plus, it'd be good to have some action during this vacation."

The app they were talking about was Raya, a renomated dating app for either rich people or celebrities. Sofia was nowhere near to being a celebrity, but she was rather wealthy, so why not try it?

When Lando saw Sofia's profile, which was different compared to the other girls on the app, he swiped right, wanting to get to know the wealthy woman. When Sofia saw his profile, she took a brief look at it and swiped right, hoping in a match. Lando was surprised by the match and decided to send her a short text, trying not to look desperate but still showing his interest.

'Hey! I'm glad that we matched, I would love to get to know you better' he texted.

'That sounded like a default text lol' She texted back. She knew he was famous, but she wasn't going to be less cocky just for him.

Lando was surprised by her sassy response and a slight grin was on his face but he decided to play her game and respond to her cocky attitude.

'You're pretty mouthy, aren't you? I like that. And nope, it's not a default text. It's mine'

'I appreciate it, then' She was already smiling. Damn him, he had the looks and the personality.

'Glad to hear it' He texted back, his own smile growing more. 'Now that I got your attention, I have a question for you'

'Shoot'

'I'd love to get to know you better, that's a given. But one thing interests me... how would you feel about going on a date?'

Lando was glad that he could make this move on her. But in the back of his head... he already knew how this would probably end.

She wanted to play hard to get, she wasn't going to say yes immediately just because he was famous.

'I'd prefer if we waited a bit, just to get to know each other better, y'know?' She texted.

Lando was happy to read that. She was playing hard to get and it was refreshing for him. For once, he was the one chasing, not the one being chased.

'I like your games. I'm fine with waiting a bit but I gotta say you already have me hooked'

Sofia smirked and lowered her sunglasses, turning her phone off. This was going to be a fun summer.

After some more weeks texting and flirty jokes, Lando managed to meet up with Sofia. He invited her over to his place to have dinner since the last thing he wanted was to be followed around by nosy paps.

Dinner started off strong, he cooked decently enough not to burn the kitchen down or poison his guest. As the wine filled their bodies, they started talking more openly about their lives, the pressure they lived under and whatever they had in common.

"I didn't think you'd be like this. I thought you were some stuck up douchebag." She admitted, setting her empty wine glass down.

"I could say the same, missy. You were playing hard to get, I almost gave up."

"I take it you're used to getting laid without barely having to talk." She snorted.

"Sometimes," he smirked, earning a playful roll of her eyes. "You know this is purely casual, right?"

"I know, I just wanted to get to know the person behind the driver before we did anything else." She shrugged. "I know you travel often and the distance is hard to handle sometimes."

"So, no strings attached?" He looked at her from across the table with that usual grin of his.

"No strings attached."

The summer break came to an end and soon enough it was time to go back to racing. Zandvoort was imminent and Lando had a great feeling about it.

"Do you want to come to my race?" He had uttered one night in bed with her. It wasn't exactly what she was expecting as aftercare, but she couldn't really complain, could she?

"What about the media? They'll be all over you." As if they weren't already.

"I don't really care about that, they're going to talk anyway." He shrugged and buried his face in her neck, he knew how to be convincing. "C'mon, Martin is coming, too. You two will get along."

"I'll have to check my schedule." She smirked, earning a playful bite from the Brit laying on top of her.

"Your modelling agency is still on break." He muttered.

"You've done research, huh?"

"Can't let you miss my next win," he grinned.

"Alright, let's not get cocky." She chuckled and shoved him playfully.

"Wanna bet?"

"Lando—"

"If I win, you'll have to give me a 'Driver of the day' award, of your own liking."

"Don't threaten me with a good time." She teased, tugging playfully on his messy curls.

"I would never." He muttered before shutting her up with a kiss.

Call it luck, fate, destiny, whatever, but Lando won that race. Sofia's stomach fluttered when she saw Lando stand on the top step on the podium. He deserved that, god if he did deserve that. She felt a sense of pride for him, watching as he got sprayed damp with champagne. However, she felt something else, too, something she knew she shouldn't be feeling.

They burst into his hotel room, barely pausing to close the door. His lips were on hers, hard and hungry. She responded instantly, her body pressing against his. He tugged her shirt off, his hands roaming over her curves. She gasped as he cupped her breasts and squeezed them gently.

He walked her backwards until she hit the bed, not wasting any time and stripping her down to her lingerie. He ran his fingers over the lace of her bra, feeling her nipples harden. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust. "You’re fucking stunning," he growled, before his mouth closed over her nipple through the lace.

Sofia moaned, her head falling back as he sucked hard, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. She felt the heat pooling between her legs, her body aching for more. She reached down, gripping him through his pants and he groaned, grinding against her hand.

"Fuck, Sofia. I need to be inside you."

She bit her lip, watching him as he kissed down her stomach, his hands hooking into the waistband of her panties. He pulled them down slowly, his knuckles brushing against her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

He leaned in, his breath hot against her thigh, and he kissed the inside of it, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. She shuddered, her hips lifting slightly. She could feel his hot breath against her core, making her squirm with anticipation. He hooked her legs over his shoulders, his hands gripping her thighs tightly, and looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust. "I've been dreaming of tasting you all day," he murmured, before diving in.

His tongue licked up her slit, tasting her wetness, then it flicked against her clit. She cried out his name, her fingers tangling in his hair. He sucked her clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. She could feel the pleasure building and her body tensing. He slid two fingers inside her, pumping them in and out in rhythm with his tongue.

He looked up at her, his fingers and tongue never stopping. "Come for me, love," he demanded, his voice a low growl. She obeyed, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her. He lapped up her juices, his fingers slowing down as her body rode out her orgasm.

"You taste so good," he murmured, before kissing his way back up her body.

She reached for him, her hands tugging at his pants. "I need you inside me," she panted, her voice hoarse with lust. He kicked off his pants and she reached for him, her hand wrapping around him. He groaned, his hips jerking forward when she started stroking him, her thumb circling the head of his cock.

"Condom," he rasped, his voice strained. She reached over to the nightstand and grabbed one from the drawer. He took it from her, tearing it open with his teeth, and rolled it onto his cock, his eyes never leaving hers.

He positioned himself between her legs, brushing against her entrance. She could feel the heat of him, the pulsing of his desire. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him closer. He slid into her slowly, inch by inch, filling her completely. She gasped, her nails digging into his back, not caring about the scratches she may leave. He began to move, his hips thrusting against hers, sliding in and out of her wetness.

She met his thrusts, her body arching against his. Their breaths mingled, their hearts pounding in sync. The room was filled with the sounds of their passion, the slap of skin against skin, their moans, and their heavy breaths. He reached between them, his fingers easily finding her clit. He rubbed it in tight circles, quickening his pace more and more.

"I'm close," she panted, her eyes locked onto his.

"Come with me, baby," he demanded, his voice strained. She nodded, her body convulsing as her orgasm hit. She cried out his name as she clenched around him. He groaned, his body going rigid as he came, pulsing inside her.

He collapsed on top of her with his body slick with sweat. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at her, and leaned down, his lips capturing hers in a soft, tender kiss.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Better than okay," she murmured. He smiled back and rolled off her. He disposed of the condom, then pulled her into his arms, reaching out to pull the blanket over them, cocooning them in their own little world.

As they lay there, their bodies entwined. He listened to her soft breathing, feeling her relax into him. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his hands gently massaging her back. She looked up at him, her eyes soft and content. "Thank you," she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips.

"For what?" he asked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin.

She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "For making me feel so... alive," she murmured against his mouth. He smiled, his hands tightening around her. "Anytime, beautiful," he replied, before capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

As she laid her head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, she felt a weird feeling in her chest. One she hadn't felt in a long time, one she had been avoiding for a long time. SHe couldn't be falling for him, they were just friends with benefits, they had made it clear.

A few weeks later in Monaco

Sofia and Lando had been texting each other pretty much every day, stumbling into deep conversations every night. Although they pretty much knew each other's darkest secrets, they still kept it hidden from the public. Or at least they tried to.

"Damn, Lando Norris girl?" Leonardo raised his eyebrows as he saw her texting the Brit.

"Shut up." She snatched the phone away from him hastily, a slight blush creeping on her cheeks. "Don't give me that look. He's cute, okay?"

"Just cute?" He smirked.

"Okay, more than cute. He's hot. Like really hot."

"Thought so." He smirked and leaned back against the sunbed. "Are you still talking to that DJ guy, Garrix, for that event here?" He asked, knowing she'd been in contact with Martin Garrix for an event in Monaco since they were both DJs.

"Yes, we've been chatting quite a bit about the event. He's really nice and talented."

"Isn't he some kind of close friend of Lando's?" He raised an eyebrow. "I think they were partying together in the Netherlands a few months ago."

"Uhh, I think you're right."

"Then why don't you invite him to your event?" He smirked. "Lando used to be a DJ too, no?"

"You think he'd actually come?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"But what if he says no? I'd look like an idiot inviting Lando Norris to my event." She said, as if she hadn't been going out with him for months.

"It's not like you're unknown, Ang. You've already made a name for yourself." Leonardo said softly.

"I guess that's true." She admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes before her confident composure returned. "Alright. You know what? I'll do it. I'll invite him to the event."

"And he left me on read," she huffed, putting her phone down.

"C'mon, maybe he's just busy." Leonardo said, earning a glare from her. "Alright, do you want me to tell you he's ignoring you?"

"No, it's even worse." She chuckled sadly, leaning against his shoulder.

"I remember you saying you just wanted to have fun with him. Why are you all moody now?"

"I haven't caught feeling, Leo. I'm not dumb." Was she really?

The night of the event arrived quickly, and since Lando had pretty much ghosted her, she didn't know if he was even going to show up. Actually, he had shown up, she had just been too busy preparing her console to notice him walking in.

The club lights were casting a purple hue all over the dance floor. Even though there were more people than she had thought would show up, she was at ease. Leo and some other friends were around her, together with Martin. Jeez, had she really made it that far?

She was feeling the beat pound into her eardrums, all she could see was the console in front of her, her hands almost moving on their own as she remixed the songs. She looked up, glancing at the crowd, when she met a familiar pair of eyes. Hell no.

He was smirking, she wanted to rip that stupid grin off his face. He hadn't texted her for almost a week and now he showed up looking that handsome? She was going to get messy.

"The night's almost up

The night's almost done

But I see your eyes

You wanna go again

Girl, I'll go again"

The Weeknd's words resonated in her ears as Martin gave her a glance and took over the console. She saw Lando walking to the reserved outside balcony of the club and decided to follow him. It was a bad idea, right?

The cold night air nearly made her shiver as she stepped outside, or maybe it was just the man standing in front of her, grinning as if he had just won a jackpot.

"You showed up," she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to act indifferent.

"You asked me to." He smirked, making her want to turn back on her heels and walk away.

"You ghosted me."

"Oh, sorry, didn't know we were exclusive already."

He was right, of course he was. She couldn't expect him to be all over her. Why was she even feeling like that anyway? She wasn't supposed to care.

"Doesn't matter, if I wanted to wait days for an answer I'd have sent a pigeon."

"I'm a busy man—"

"Don't start with that, I can't believe you haven't got two minutes to answer a text."

Lando stood up straight and walked over to her, slowly, inconspicuously backing her up against the wall.

"What were you expecting? Flowers?" He scoffed. "We've agreed on this being just a hookup arrangement."

"That doesn't mean you have to act like you don't care." 'Cause he cared, right? Right…?

"You know what you were getting into when we started texting. I can't go out with just anyone." He said, his green eyes making her feel cold inside.

"Why did you even come here then?" She frowned.

"Martin asked me to—"

"Lando! There you are!" A blonde girl walked onto the balcony, making Sofia's jaw almost drop.

Lando pulled away and looked at the other girl, ignoring Sofia's glare. "I'll see you around."

September 2024, Singapore

The messages between Lando and Sofia had gotten fewer and fewer over the last few days. She had been missing him whilst he had been gone for Monza and Baku and that had made her feelings and doubts multiply.

Singapore would be the last race before a triple header on the other side of the world so Sofia decided to confess her worries to Lando. Doing that over the phone wasn't the best idea, but she was stuck in Monaco for work.

The roar of the McLaren engine usually filled Lando Norris with a singular focus, a laser-like concentration that drowned out everything else. But today, as he navigated the Singapore circuit during a practice run, Sofia's words echoed in his helmet, a disruptive hum in the symphony of speed.

"I need some space, Lando."

He'd been floored. Sofia, the woman who could make him laugh until his sides ached even after the most grueling race, the one who somehow understood the pressures of his life without him having to explain – she needed space. After admitting she had feelings for him. The irony wasn't lost on him.

He braked hard, the tires squealing in protest. He knew, logically, he should be focused on optimizing his line, on shaving milliseconds off his lap time. But all he could see was Sofia's slightly downcast expression as she'd delivered her bombshell, her usual bright eyes clouded with a vulnerability he rarely saw.

He pitted, the mechanics swarming around his car. He mechanically answered their questions, his mind still replaying their conversation from the night before. He’d been so caught off guard by her confession, the shy vulnerability that momentarily replaced her usual confident facade.

Now, sitting in the garage, the scent of burning rubber and high-octane fuel filling the air, Lando began to truly reflect.

He thought of the way she always managed to lighten the mood, cracking jokes and pulling silly faces until he forgot, at least for a little while, the immense pressure of being Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver.

He’d always enjoyed her company, valued her support. But he’d filed it away as friendship, a welcome respite from the intensity of his career. He’d told himself he was too busy, too focused, to entertain the idea of a relationship. He’d buried his own feelings under a mountain of excuses.

But now, with Sofia deliberately creating distance, a gaping hole had opened up in his life. The silence around him was deafening. The absence of her witty texts was palpable. He even missed her terrible attempts at teaching him TikTok dances. The truth, stark and undeniable, slammed into him with the force of a high-speed collision: he missed her. Terribly.

He was so used to her being a constant, vibrant presence in his life, that he hadn't realized the extent of her influence. He realized how much he relied on her calm reassurance, her unwavering belief in him, even when he doubted himself. He missed her infectious energy, her ability to make even the most mundane tasks feel like an adventure. And, god, he missed her smile.

Lando stared at his reflection in the tinted visor of his helmet. Had he been so blinded by the need to protect himself, to avoid the potential heartache of a relationship, that he’d almost lost something truly special? Had he been a fool to ignore the obvious signs, to dismiss the undeniable connection between them?

He finally admitted to himself, the truth crashing down around him: he was in love with Sofia. The realization sent a jolt of panic through him. He’d spent so long guarding his heart, building walls to protect himself from vulnerability, that the thought of opening himself up to someone was terrifying. But the thought of losing her was even more terrifying.

He knew he had to talk to her. He had to tell her how he felt, risk the potential rejection, and hope that he hadn't ruined everything.

After practice, he practically sprinted to his phone, his fingers trembling as he typed out a message. 'Can we talk? Seriously talk?'

The response was immediate. 'I'll call you in five.'

When his phone rang, he rushed to his driver's room and answered it. He took a deep breath and laid it all bare. He confessed his initial hesitation, his fear of commitment, his blind adherence to his self-imposed rules. He told her about the emptiness he felt in her absence, the realization that his life was infinitely brighter, richer, and more meaningful with her in it. He admitted, unequivocally, that he was in love with her. When he finished, the silence stretched, thick and heavy. He braced himself for the worst.

"Took you long enough," she said softly.

Relief washed over him, so potent it almost knocked him off his feet.

They decided to give a serious relationship a try, acknowledging the unique challenges that came with their demanding careers. There would be compromises, sacrifices, and a whole lot of logistical nightmares to navigate. But they were both willing to put in the effort.

They agreed to prioritize communication, to be honest and open about their needs and fears, to avoid the silent assumptions that had almost cost them everything. They promised to make time for each other, even amidst the whirlwind of Formula 1 races and modelling gigs.

It wouldn't be easy. Their lives were anything but ordinary. But as Lando looked at Sofia, standing under the podium of the Singapore GP he'd just won, he knew that with her by his side, he could face anything. He was no longer just Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver. He was Lando, in love with Sofia. And that, he realized, was the greatest victory of all.

The end.

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