#let's just say the last professional interaction i had with this person they cornered me (no exaggeration) in a public stairwell

[atelier-dayz]

Had an exit meeting yesterday and got told some gossip 👀

A certain someone retiring in two years, and they're the main reason I didn't want to come back here to work. 👀

[yogurtkags]

❝ HUSH ❞ — sakusa kiyoomi

cw. f!reader, fluff, olympics au, athletic trainer!reader, timeskip characters, established relationship, secret marriage, language (omi swears like once), not beta read (sorry!) word count. ~ 1.6k

“japan’s outside hitter sakusa kiyoomi and newly revealed wife, athletic trainer y/n l/n, steals the spotlight in the city of love!”

@tetzoro's summer olympics collab

your eyes glance in his direction, letting it linger on his figure as the team settles down into their corner. he’s a little tense, understandably so– it’s his first time at the olympics, and with the pressure of the finals sitting on his shoulders, the nerves are showing, though carefully hidden behind his standard resting face that you can see through so well. the lights hanging along the ceilings of the south paris arena cast a tasteful warm glow along the contours of his face. despite the subconscious clenched jaw and slightly downturned lips that make you want to kiss the frown off so badly, there’s a shine in his eyes like no other.

the last few days have been pretty rough, of stiff beds, subpar food and sleeping without kiyoomi. you know he feels the same if the progressively increasing frequency of late night calls and texts are any indication. with the boys sharing rooms in twos amongst themselves and the rest of the team’s staff being housed in a separate wing of the building, falling asleep in his arms was a faraway thought since you arrived at the olympic village.

loml ♡ : miya snores so fuckin’ loudly i can’t handle this me : well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve dealt with it baby loml ♡ : i still think we should’ve fought harder for us sharing a room

he drifts off into slumber easily after washing up and getting his fill of talking to you (never enough), the mental and physical fatigue of matches and practices in between taking a toll on his body, but for you, being wrapped in his warm embrace was the perfect recipe and vital to a good night's sleep. it’s safe to say that you haven’t been sleeping well for the past week.

it didn’t help that being sworn to secrecy about your relationship also meant that any interactions you had with him outside being the team’s athletic trainer was like treading on eggshells. it feels like you’re in high school again, sitting next to him in the dining hall during meal times with your clasped hands hidden under the table from watchful eyes, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the back of your hand or squeezing ever so often, as if to affirm his presence and silently reassure that i’m here.

it seems to be a trend lately for athletes to be active on their social media platforms, be it their team’s or just a personal account, recounting stories or even taking avid viewers through “a day in the life of an olympic athlete” — without looking too far, even miya jumped on the bandwagon, often seeing suna running around filming short clips of their shenanigans in free pockets of time during the day. you and kiyoomi talked about it before the season began, keeping any non-professional interactions to a minimum. there’s eyes everywhere and it’s better to be safe than sorry.

both of you are very private people, it was only natural that you preferred to keep your personal life and matters to yourselves behind closed doors. this ended up being a double-edged sword, because everyone wants to be all up in your business, especially kiyoomi who finds himself in the spotlight more often, being apart of the “young handsome eligible bachelors” of the MSBY 4 and now one of the most sought-after new additions to japan’s national team.

you on the other hand, were better known by twitter as “the pretty trainer” from the shweiden adlers and now the national team, standing next to another fan-favourite, iwaizumi hajime. thankfully your role is kept more so behind the scenes, checking on the players during games and making sure they remain in tip-top shape on and off the court.

being the quiet and brooding one amongst outgoing chatterboxes meant that the media would try to dig any information out of kiyoomi, but prying interviewers and prodding questions towards him and his love life were smoothly deflected and brushed aside, the boys even coming to his defense if anyone got too pushy with it, which you were beyond thankful for. not that they needed to most of the time, he’s known to be curt with his responses and quick to bring the topic back to the game, and no one likes a snappy sakusa anyway, many have learned this the hard way.

just months prior to the both of you getting called in to begin training for the olympics and before schedules start to pick up, you had a small private wedding in your hometown with just close friends and family, the ceremony kept under lock and key and tucked away from the public eye. it made it all the more intimate, more like a quiet gathering to celebrate your union than a grand spectacle, which suited you perfectly. the honeymoon hasn’t happened yet with the timing of everything, you’re saving it for post-season when you both can finally take a break and relax for a little while.

you won’t deny that there are some days where you wished that things were different, and that you could openly express your love for each other without scrutiny and attention being on you, but alas, that is to be expected as someone exposed to the public eye.

the olympics is your first public appearance as married individuals, not that anyone particularly cares about your status, their eyes instead zeroing in on kiyoomi and the chain around his neck carrying a shiny new silver band. it's safe to say that judging by the scowl on his face and the chatter buzzing around the front rows of stands as the team settles into their side of the court, his “mystery wife" is the new talk of the town.

when he comes over to you during timeout, his eyes meet yours bashfully as you hand him a bottle, fingers brushing against yours in an unspoken apology. you just smile and lightly pat his back as he turns to join the team huddle. there’s nothing to be sorry for, silly.

these little moments mean everything to you, even though it looks like nothing in the grand scheme of things. just being there with him and coming together with a shared passion even if it's in different fields of the broader spectrum of sport, fills you with a sense of happiness and content. watching him in his element and being able to support him on the sidelines through it all, you'd never trade that for the world.

and as you’re sitting at the edge of your seat with your bum hanging on for dear life, you lean forward with your hands pressed together, the top of your index fingers resting against the tip of your nose like a pseudo prayer. match point.

it feels like you’re watching the longest rally of your life and like a bad habit, your knee begins bouncing up and down in your nervousness and anticipation. iwaizumi too, is so engrossed in the play at hand that he doesn’t notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough in this moment to stop you with his usual slap to your thigh and a chiding comment, “stop it, even my grandma back in sendai can feel the tremours from your goddamn knees.”

with bated breath, you watch kageyama tosses one beautiful arc of a set to kiyoomi as he leaps into the air and makes contact with the ball.

with a powerful spike, he is a force to be reckoned with, sending the ball home as the opponents dive to save it, their arms hands and fingers stretching out in a last ditch attempt to connect and rescue the point, but to no avail. the ball lands with a harsh thud and as he stands tall above their groveling, the whistle blows and the crowds roar.

your arms instinctively raise in a cheer, and in the next moment they’re closed over your mouth, tears pricking your eyes as you stumble over your feet and scramble to get up. as the team rushes towards him with shouts of celebration, his eyes immediately dart in your direction, softening as he sees you dashing over. with knowing smirks and crescent moons for eyes, the boys follow his line of sight and give him firm slaps on the back, parting the hoard for you and giving just enough room for him to uncharacteristically swoop you up in his arms and crash his lips into yours, all caution thrown to the wind.

all the noise halts and time stands still, everything fades away and nothing else in the world matters in the moment, not the people, not the cameras, just the overwhelming rush of joy and pride, and love, oh love, swelling from the depths of your chest and your heart bursting at its seams.

your senses flood with everything kiyoomi, from the way the sweaty strands of his hair at the back of his neck feel on your fingertips, his cheeks dampening from your tears, the nudge of his nose against yours, and the press of his smile on your locked lips. he breathes out and you breathe him in, letting all of his being rest in the room in your heart saved specially for him, seeping into every corner of your soul.

when you inevitably pull apart for air, the current predicament doesn't exactly click in your mind just yet until he grabs your hand and pulls you into his side, shielding you from the onslaught of reporters and press looking to get a fresh scoop on the hottest piece of news. with blown out eyes, you look at him in a daze and disbelief, did that really just happen?

the smug smirk on his face says it all.

the matching silver bands on your finger and hanging around his neck, it was always there. for the longest time it was your little secret, and now a declaration of love and devotion — not even a shiny new gold medal could compare.

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[monstrousproductions]

PSST.

You wanna know a secret?

Neurotypical people use scripts too.

I'm neurodivergent and I struggle a lot with meeting new people. The only thing that helps me is scripting - planning the conversation beforehand, practicing the questions I'm going to ask, the anecdotes I can tell, all that jazz.

But what really helped me turn a corner was realising that neurotypicals are scripting too. Everyone in the supermarket is expecting the conversation with the cashier to go a certain way. I don't have to worry about being funny or interesting - I just have to play my part, and they'll play theirs, and we'll both go away from the interaction content!

And I know this is the Anti Small Talk website I knowwwwww. But small talk serves a vital social function! You can't just jump straight from Stranger to Friend - you need to do the intermediary steps first, or at least get introduced! Besides, it helps make brief, transactional interactions - like being served in a shop, for example - feel a bit more friendly, which, why wouldn't you want to make things more friendly??

It also - and let us simply speak in hypotheticals here - it also means that, for example, if you are an innocent podcaster who found themselves at a wedding a few weeks ago where you knew very few people, and, through various circumstances, ended up being sat at a table on the other side of the room to the people you actually did know, you wouldn't have had to spend the entire meal sitting in awkward silence because nobody else at your table knew how to make conversation with strangers. Hypothetically. For example. 🙃

And look. I get it. Meeting people can be awkward and uncomfortable, especially if you're neurodivergent. But there are things you can learn that can help minimise that awkwardness, or at least help you come across as 'harmlessly odd and doing their best' (my personal favourite social niche).

Society likes to pretend these skills are inherent. But babies aren't born knowing how to do any of this! We have to learn. As a neurodivergent person, I had to learn that skill very consciously, and rather later than some of my neurotypical peers - but they had to learn it too!!

And like every other skill, the only way you can improve is practice. You gotta put the time in. But that time pays off. I'm in my 30s, and by now, I have scripts on scripts, with variations for all sorts of different contexts. It's like a database I access, filtering through it for Middle Aged Woman In Professional Setting or Chatty Toddler On Bus or Millennial Programmer at Casual Social Event.

At this point, I feel pretty fluent in most social situations. It's not foolproof - I got so nervous at the pharmacists last week, I stammered too much for the clerk to understand me and had to start the whole interaction over 😶 But it makes life much easier, and - just as important - helps me to make stressful situations easier for other people, too.

So, please, if you struggle with small talk, can you do me a favour? Can you think of three questions you could ask a stranger? You want to keep them open-ended (no yes/no answers), friendly but not intrusive, and avoid anything that makes an assumption about the other person.

For example, I tend to go for, "What kind of thing do you like to do for fun?" instead of asking about work, because lots of people don't have jobs for all sorts of reasons they might not want to tell me, a random person at their friend's birthday party.

I'm also a huge fan of asking why people like something they said they like, or how they got into it. People like to talk about things they enjoy, and I like to hear about it!

Once you've got a set of questions to ask, you can have a think about your own responses. If someone asks you how you know the friend you have in common, what can you say that will keep the conversation going?

If they mention the weather, what could you say in response? It's been warm in Belfast recently after a cold snap, and I'm a bit annoyed because I was excited to wear all my woolly jumpers again. I've expressed that exact sentiment to four cashiers and three taxi drivers this month alone - and I'll do it again!!

Finally, above all, pay attention. Keep your head up, and try and see who's talking and who isn't. If you notice someone might not be getting chance to join in the conversation, you can bring them in by moving your attention to address them while you're answering someone else. Then, address your next question to them more directly.

The thing is, like I said, neurotypicals are scripting too. They'll be expecting this kind of chat. They'll be prepared. They're expecting to be asked this kind of thing, and to say the same kind of thing in return. There's no trick to it - they just learnt the script earlier than us, and without having to be told explicitly that it existed 😂

It's hard. I know it's hard. But you can learn, and it is worth learning - for your own sake, but also for the sake of your fellow wedding guests/birthday party attendees/newbies at the book club 😅

[mediumtires]

It's two days into the summer break and I'm already going through vroom vroom withdrawals, so I re-read Seven Years then decided to nitpick season 5 of DTS. Seven Years is so stuck in my head (especially with last weekend's ass grab) that I started to wonder how Christian and Toto's relationship would affect DTS. Would there be a full episode about their relationship? Would they be more included in each other's episodes? Would Netflix try to get footage of the two acting like a couple? The only guarantee is that Tumblr would be analysis every interaction between the two because we already do that.

Also, I use Microsoft Edge over google so I thought you might find this funny.

The first thing they list is that he is a racing driver, not a successful team principal, a racing driver. :p

ohhh this is such an interesting take!

personally i didn’t make dts a thing in seven years because i just didn’t want to deal with the mess of it. it adds a whole other layer of emotional clusterfucks of being exposed to the wider public (outside of the f1 bubble even), even more cameras following them around the paddock, mic-ed up 24/7. there is a snippet i started writing after the whole “change your fucking car” business that i couldn’t even finish because the whole thing was so messy and i could not come up with a proper way to solve this because i was so embarrassed for them lmao.

but let’s walk for a second. let’s say their involuntary outing happens and dts are around for it all, i do think netflix would be a perfect vessel to promote lgbtq+ visibility and rights in motorsports and both pr teams would jump at the chance. obviously an outing like this is a huge fuck up marketing wise, nothing was planned, no one was prepared for it so they’d need to act quick and with netflix around, they’d have the perfect opportunity to angle the narrative any way they want. plus for netflix it would obviously mean Millions. everyone and their mother would watch the new season.

not sure they’d have a full episode. don’t think christian or toto would agree to this during some of the worst moments of their lives lol and in seven years i tried my best to not glorify or romanticise a shitty situation like being outed by someone else against your will. but i do think they’d both still want to be on dts, they enjoy the spotlight and the attention too much. in my mind they’d both show up to their netflix interviews smirking, a little ala “look at you and your lil cameras, i had a secret you couldn’t even imagine being true, you only know the things i choose to tell you, i’m in charge here”. to me that’s kind of a power move. i also think certain questions would simply be blacklisted so all we’d get would be ambiguous layered eye-twinkling comments about the rival team principal while touching their wedding rings. “oh toto slammed that desk *eye roll* yeah he’s so emotional *smirk*” or “christian has a big mouth, don’t believe everything he says, i don’t” or “singapore last year? yeah i think…. i think we won. did we? can’t remember, i was a little busy” but they don’t ever talk about singapore directly.

post outing i don’t think we’d get much husband material on dts. i tried very hard to write them as being private about their relationship and i still think that rings true, even post outing. there were instances where i thought it’d be significant and meaningful to them as a couple to show their support for each other a little more publicly (or maybe just a little less secretively) but those moments were about them more so than an act for the public or the cameras. in my mind they wouldn’t walk hand in hand through the paddock just because they can, not mid season on a thursday morning anyway. they’re professionals and they’re at work. but it’s a different thing when a netflix camera zooms in on them through a window and they’re having a quiet lunch tucked away in some corner of rb hospitality, or a brush of hands or a discreet smile when they pass each other somewhere and a camera is around to pick up on it.

so that’s my take! the most interesting angle to me though is how the public perception suddenly changes from seeing them as individuals to seeing them as a unit. it rewires your brain from “oh these two are fun, they hate each other” to “oh these two….. don’t hate each other. in actuality they…. they seem to love each other enough to be…. husbands. huh”

[countlessrealities]

🔥 { thoughts on anything shipping related ! }

Unpopular opinions || No longer Accepting !

I'm gonna use this ask to delve into a specific aspect of what I mentioned in the previous ask, because I think that this is something you need to know when interacting with me. Bullies or bullying supporters are NOT welcome in my space.

CRITICALLY exploring & enjoying "problematic" SHIPS doesn't make you a bad person / psycho / pervert / whatev they wanna call it.

Almost anyone who's had a fandom experience, no matter how brief, has run into this topic. The whole big war "antis vs pro-shippers"...even if personally I'd call it the endless "in this episode of how antis start another witch hunt against people who just want to stay in their corner and do their thing..." series.

Btw, to be precise, "pro-shipper" doesn't mean only what everyone seems to think. At the very start, the term was used for people who apply the very healthy, very mature philosophy of the "Ship and let ship", variation of that "live and let live" so many people (even antis, and damn, hello, hypocrisy) loves to throw out to justify their not so popular behaviour.

So, "pro-shipper" isn't a bad word. Actually, it means that you're acting like the adult you're supposed to be. And this means that if you follow what I wrote up there, then technically, you are a pro-shipper.

Gonna leave that there, for pondering purposes. For the rest of the ask, I'm gonna use the term with the most common meaning that's used online nowadays. Back on track.

Are these ships "problematic"? According to our social standards, yes. That's undeniable and no one denies it, not even the shippers (mind, I'm talking about people who critically consume this kind of content, the actual pervs are NOT considered here). They know and have the common sense to explore their ship never losing sight of the fact that 1. it's fiction and 2. this doesn't equal supporting those things IRL. Because yeah, I'll say it (unpopular opinion inside the unpopular opinion):

Fiction does NOT equal reality.

Being intellectually curious about something doesn't equal doing it or even just wanting to do it. Most people fantasise about killing one or more people during their life (and this is a scientifical fact, there are studies on this shit), and this fantasies are pretty enjoyable too for most of them. Would you call them murders? Just because they have explored a scenario without having intention of reproducing it in reality?

I don't think so.

And the same goes for anyone who is interested in the theory and the psychology of "problematic" ships (and content in general). Toxic relationships, abusive relationships, underage, big age differences, incest, power imbalance...and there's more than I can't recall right now, but you got the gist. All this stuff is bad IRL, no one can argue with that (and if they do, then they need to get professional help or go to jail). But on a fantastical level, with fictional characters? It's not different from enjoying a horror movie or being fascinated by a fictional serial killer. Which doesn't mean wanting to become the next John Kramer (Saw) or Michael Myers (Halloween) or being an actual groupie.

So let's put things into the right context before starting to throw around real heavy words, shall we?

Then, on the other hand, as I've already said, we have the ones who bully real people, who accuse real people of being really disgusting thing, who tell real people to kill themselves. People who write on their fucking blog descriptions, for everyone to see, stuff like "pro-shippers killed on sight / if you ship X go hang yourself / if you like Y I hope you OD", etc. I'm not making these up, btw, I've actually seen this shit.

I won't add anything else about this last point because I have already stated what I think and, especially, it should be really fucking obvious. And if it's not to you...whelp, maybe you need to go out and touch some grass. Just saying.

You're allowed not to like this stuff. You're allowed to be uncomfortable about. You have all the rights not to want to see it. You're allowed to avoid / block the people who engage in it. This is all valid.

You're not allowed to be a fucking cowardly bully who uses the anonymity of the internet offers to be an asshole and a criminal. Because that's what you are when you tell someone to take his life, even more when it's about fiction and stuff that doesn't affect anyone's fucking existence. You're a bad person.

So, once again. If you're one of aforementioned people who think that acting this way is all right and cool and just, well...Kindly get the fuck off my blog. I don't want actual toxic people in my life. I hope karma gets to you -fingerguns-

[mypointisineffable]

Oh man...

This is such a good theory that I wish I hadn't read because it felt like a HUGE spoiler. I'm kind of mad, but also, excited and blown away, damn.

So, I'm not a professional writer, but I'm a Visual Communicator, so I caught many odd things throughout the season but I couldn't place why or what, and now they kind of fit well in this theory. These are some of them:

The many times I thought "why are Aziraphale and Crowley constantly in the wrong place?" They're so used to which side they have to be that it was very weird to see them switching like that, like if they didn't care anymore. And this could be easily explained with a Metatron hack. He wouldn't pay attention to that at all, that's not important to him.

I noticed the film. I paid attention to the credits because I know they kind of tell what happens throughout the season, as seen in S1. And the film was something, let's say, new, because presenting what the episode was going to be about didn't feel quite right to me. Especially because those were non animated bits, they were just actual stills of the episode. *EDIT: In the Extras, the creator of the opening credits explains that the different mediums of the animation is just exploration of other visual resources. Spider-Verse really uped the game for everyone, isn't it?

Speaking of the opening credits, what's with the swap again?? I know there's something there.

The whole demon scene combined with the ball felt so weird to me that I was exactly like Nina saying "what is happening?". When I saw the whole street under green fog, not a single human, the sudden elevators appearing as Umbrella Academy's Temps Commission sending messages to them out of nowhere, Maggie just walking up there and not being scared by the demons or even noticing them at all (even though we know the people can see them and interact with them) I was like "uh... How? Why? Is it like that time Crowley said that people really never notice anything?". So I quickly brushed it off, but now it makes sense. You know how this particular scene feels? Like when a person witnesses something so incredible that when they tell another what happened, they just tell the amazing parts. If this was Metatron, of course he would be proud of telling just what happened outside and inside the book shop.

I also noticed the alcohol rejection.

The disposition of the stores and how literally EVERYTHING happens in that corner. I'm not talking about when Azi goes away for his trip... But compared to season 1, it was very practical to suddenly have the pub, the coffee and the book shop in the same space. I actually wondered why they didn't plot their plans in their usual spaces. But maybe I read too much into this and it was just a budget/practical filming thing. *EDIT: Practical filming. GO has an studio now in case Season 3 is filmed.

The multiple times Aziraphale and Crowley touched. Compared to season 1, it was an amazing upgrade. They barely even touch like two or three times in the first one and in this season they even dance and everything. I mean, I'm not complaining AT ALL, I honestly love to see them closer, but I remember thinking that, visually, they made it very clear that they are physically closer. So, back to the theory, I don't know if this was Metatron adding too much of this or he forgot to erase those bits and that is for future Azi&Crow to remember.

The Ineffable Bureaucracy... I knew Beelzebub had something to do with it the second I saw the fly inside the box. I thought it was a spy at first, but it being like a USB memory was cool. I'd like to see in this Metatron theory how they fit, because Aziraphale was so ready to yell "I LOVE YOU, CROWLEY" that the sudden unexpected change into heartbreaking chaos was horrible. Was Metatron crushing Aziraphale's last pieces of his heart or maybe Crowley's? Like showing how that was something they'll never have?

So that was sincerely an amazing theory, but I'm going to be so mad if it turns out to be true that I'll name it forever "THE Biggest Spoiler I've Ever Came Across In My Entire Life". And I'm counting that time someone told me Dumbledore dies in book 6.

Side note: I'm now in my second rewatch, but those are the things I remember noticing from the first watch. If anything comes to mind I'll add it here.

A Day After analysis

I confess I was mad and highly blown away by the possibility of this theory. I went to sleep thinking about it, after writing the stuff I noticed was weird for me, but now that I'm calmed down, I don't think the Metatron theory is quite correct. And the whole essay is presented as a magic trick itself to convince us it's right. But I think the clue again is the very same presented: Maggie.

As I said above, I'm on my second rewatch, and we have a very specific hint: COVID happened in GO world. Maggie says that between lockdowns and everything, the record store stopped selling as it used to. So we know there are at least 4 years between the Armageddon't and The Present Day. So I can totally see Maggie falling for Nina and also being kind of close to Aziraphale, her landlord. So the Maggie being a character doesn't fit quite right if you think about it, because those "mood swings happening too fast" could be possible when a friend is around and you feel desperate, which was her case.

Now the alcohol rejection... I noticed it too as I said before, but I have a friend whose reason to not drink is literally the same as Maggie. She goes to parties and doesn't have a drink at all, she drinks water. She's the type of person who is reading in a corner when everyone around is dancing. Like, she's my friend, is real and she does that kind of stuff. And you will say "but Aziraphale didn't drink in the pub!", Ok, yes, but as I said before, I'm very visual and in any movie, when someone is meant to drink or eat something I always look if they do it or don't. And most of the times, they won't! Because of practicality or because it's not relevant to the plot. And that happened here. Drinking or eating the cakes was not even the point.

Now, Nina and Maggie not ending in a romantic way, I LOVED it, and it's a very Neil thing to do! He's one of the few authors who can take you to either an extremely fantastic world and make a very mundane, grounded argument at the same time, that makes you think about it for days and days and that's part of what makes him so cool. I get the feeling of not having the "pay off" with them (N&M), but for me it worked and absolutely made sense and I loved it. It's like in The Sandman when Dream and Delirium go to see Destruction, try to convince him to come back, and he goes away again. It was sad and I was hoping for something different but that's not how life works. Neil is this type of author. Good Omens book itself has an ending like this. Adam acknowledged it was the end of the world as he knows it and it leaves you hanging there with a melancholic feeling. So Nina and Maggie not getting together is as true as a real human relationship.

I know there's the "Neil is very subtle in his writing" point, but Neil is also a very experienced media writer. He knows how to develop a story visually and how adaptations work. And all of this tremendously subtle "magic trick" is too farfetched. And I stand by the things I found visually weird and I still will find weird, but I don't think it was a bad season at all, and let alone written bad on purpose. Neil already said it's the bridge for the third season. It was what we saw, it hurt, yes and it's an awful way to present a cliffhanger (awful for us who had our Aziracrow idealistic bubble in our heads) but it happened like that, and all of the rest is us in denial.

I'm eager to see season 3, and, in words of Neil Gaiman, finally having a satisfying ending for our favorite demon and angel.

The Magic Trick You Didn’t See: Being An Analysis of Good Omens Season 2

(or: Neil Gaiman, Your Brain is Gorgeous But I Have Cracked Your Sneaky Little Code And Have You Dead To Rights*) (*Maybe)

***

Soooooo I just spent the last 48 hours having a BREATHTAKING GALAXY BRAIN EPIPHANY about Good Omens Season 2 and feverishly writing a fuckin16,000 word essay about the incredible magic trick that @neil-gaiman pulled off. 

Yes, it’s long, but I PROMISE your brains will explode. Do you want to know how magic works? Do you want to know what Metatron’s deal is (I’m like 99% sure of this and it’s EXTREMELY FUCKING GOOD)? Do you want to know about the Mystery of the Vanishing Eccles Cakes and the big fat beautiful clue I found in the opening credits? Do you go through the whole inventory of Chekov’s Firearm & Heavy Artillery Discount Warehouse? 

Here is the essay, go read it: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ When ur done u can tell me I’m an insane crackpot, and u know what, i won’t even be offended

In case you don’t know whether you want to bother reading the whole enormous thing on google docs, I’ve put the first couple sections of it under the cut. JUST TRUST ME OKAY, HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS VERY EXTREMELY COOL, NEIL IS GOOD AT HIS JOB–

Keep reading

[sweetestlamb]

My Brother's Keeper

Summary: Young-woo gets a visitor after the case and reveals a secret to Jun-ho.

Author's note: I thought we were completely off the rails and then the writers pulled it together for the things I cared about: whale couple and attorney Jung. My favorite scene today was Young-woo finding out she's a big sister and everything her eyes and body did, ergo I wrote this fluff to expand on that because I love that she has a little brother to protect now. She gets to take care of someone🥺 please bring him back in season 2!

"Attorney Woo I'll drive you back to the office." It's hard to keep the smile off his face, to remain professional when all he wants to do is tell everyone that they're back together. They had both decided that they shouldn't break up because they could only be happy together.

"Okay." He hears her curt reply, sees her affirmative head nod in the corner of his eye and all he can do is stare in awe. Despite his initial confusion about her unusual investment in this case and her ability to meet with someone like Tae Sumi, he had felt nothing but pride watching her run off with that heart stopping smile on her face as she decided to do the seemingly impossible.

But the impossible became possible for her. She was brilliant and kind and had one of the purest souls he had ever seen. Just being the one beside her was enough for him.

"Noona, wait!"

He can feel her jolt beside him before peering over her shoulder slowly twisting to find the voice, and he turns as well watching Attorney Tae Sumi try and fail to wrangle her son before he can rush over to Young-woo.

His eyes are bright and filled with wonder despite the outcome of the case, despite his own inevitable punishment.

In that moment, watching the brave young boy on the stand he reminded him of someone else with the same sense of righteousness. It was hard not to see the resemblance.

The younger boy stands right in front of them before bowing at Young-woo. He carefully watches the interaction between the two, confused but endeared by the sight.

"I wanted to thank you again. For helping me and convincing ou-um my mom to let me testify. The guilt that I felt is starting to fade, maybe one day all those people and even Mr. Bae will be able to forgive me."

The mistep is minor but it stands out in his mind. Ou...what word did he initially intend to use? But Young-woo's response distracts him from thinking about it further. He can't help but notice the way that Sang-Hyeon avoids his gaze eyes locked on Young-woo instead.

"I'm not sure if they will. What you did wrong and foolish. If something went wrong it could have affected eighty percent of the country."

The young boy's gaze shifts with evident shame to the ground and he winces at the frank and deceivingly cold words but he can't help but agree with her and so he remains silent, a mere audience member.

"But you confessed and you apologized. I've had many cases now and that's even hard for adults to do, they usually try to lie and hide." She says the last bit with a frown on her face as if remembering those dastardly clients.

He smiles in admiration, grinning when the boy immediately perks up a small smile on his face now. That was the first time he'd ever seen her comfort someone, it makes his heart swell.

"I did the right thing, right noona?"

It's hard to miss the obvious look for approval.

"Yes, you did what is legally right when you commit a crime. But you shouldn't break the law anymore."

"I promise I won't."

She nods evenly at the promise looking satisfied.

"Noona?"

"Yes?"

"You were really cool today. I hope you keep being that cool, I want to be like you when I grow up."

"To be like me?" She looks confused, pointing into her own chest as if she never expected to hear anyone utter such words.

"Yes. You're the coolest person I know."

This time he can't remain silent, not when he agrees so passionately with what the young boy is saying.

"I agree Attorney Woo, you were super cool today."

She tucks her chin into her chest as if to hide the wide gleeful grin that spreads across her pretty face, thankfully it's not hidden well and he's blessed with its beauty.

"Are you.....are you someone special to my noona?" Sang Hyeon finally acknowledges his presence peering up at him with a suspicious weary gaze.

My noona.

He can't ignore the slight possessiveness in his tone and he raises a single brow at the tone. Did this little punk have a crush on his Young-woo? It was as cute as it was annoying.

However there is no longer any uncertainty in his reply this time unlike that other night, he knows what he is to Young-woo now. What they are to each other.

"Yes. I'm her boyfriend."

He could proudly announce that now to people. He had already changed her contact in his phone and each time she called just because she missed him he would see my girlfriend across his screen and that made every day a great one indeed.

"You have a boyfriend?" Sang Hyeon spins back to Attorney Woo who only pauses for a second before nodding and answering, "Yes, this is my boyfriend Jun-ho ssi. We are officially dating now so it's acceptable for us to kiss outside my hou--"

"Attorney Woo!" He cuts her off with an embarrassed squeak, red flush rising on his neck and cheeks. But the young man seems unfazed by her inappropriate comment, glaring at him now as if he's searching for something.

After a silent stare off, the boy finally says,"Take care of my noona. If you hurt her, you already know what I'm capable of."

This is a first for him, being threatened by someone so much younger than him but he can't help but grin at the hard glare being sent his way.

"I will always take care of her." And he means it with his whole heart, even a few days without her was torture he never wanted to go through that again.

"Okay. Good."

They seem to reach an understanding but then he watches in amusement as Young-woo reaches out and grabs the younger boy's ear, twisting it with her thumb and index finger it's such a strange sight that he can't help but laugh loudly.

"Noona!"

"You shouldn't threaten my boyfriend or your elders. Where are your manners?"

He's almost certain it's something she has seen on a show or heard from someone else about scolding your juniors.

"I'm sorry noona, I was just joking." He squirms in her hold but makes no real attempts to escape, accepting his reprimand without much fight.

Several eyes turn to watch them in shock and confusion, all except one. Attorney Tae Sumi, who he can only describe as stunned. There's an indescribable look in her eyes but her face is softer than he's ever seen on a woman like her who is a master of hiding her emotions. He blinks blankly as she turns away from the sight with a hand pressed to her mouth and suddenly starts to leave with her bodyguards never looking back.

"Noona, I think I have to go now. Thank you again." He rubs at his ear now looking at his mother's retreating back.

"Okay. You're welcome."

They stare at each other before the young boy turns to follow his mother but he can see how he hesitates. Motionless for a long moment before turning back around with a hopeful look in his large eyes.

"Noona, is it okay if.... could I maybe...."

Young-woo waits for the rest of his sentence patiently perceivably unaware of what Sang Hyeon wants to ask but he can see it written all over his face.

"CouldIhugyoujustonce?"

It all comes out as one jumbled mess, his tongue tripping and stumbling over the words and he looks weary as soon as they leave his mouth.

Young-woo tilts her head still looking at him in confusion.

"What?"

And the other boy looks too scared to repeat the question so he helps him out.

"I think he wants to hug you. To show you his gratitude."

She turns to look at him, it almost makes his heart jump. Who's he kidding there's no almost about it.

"To show his gratitude?"

She echoes back at him then looks over at the younger boy whose eyes are now glued to the ground. She contemplates the question, he can see her processing- watches her lips twist and her eyes dart around until her body calms.

"Okay. You may hug me."

Sang Hyeon looks just as surprised as he feels but he doesn't hesitate for a moment, stepping forward with open arms and wrapping them around a stiff Young-woo who doesn't reciprocate, at first he worries that she's pushing herself despite being severely uncomfortable but then he sees her arms lift and she starts to pat Sang Hyeon awkwardly with just the tips of her finger.

Returning the hug in her own way.

Tap. Tap.

Tap. Tap.

And he already knew this but he can't think about anything but how much he loves this woman and her huge heart.

He was deeply in love with Woo Young-woo.

"I....am Tae Sumi's daughter."

He almost drives them off the road at her sudden confession, swerving back into his lane and accepting the horns that he receives from other drivers. He deserves them.

He tries to keep his eyes on her and on the road simultaneously.

"What?!" He can't help but exclaim, everything suddenly making perfect sense beneath his surprise and confusion.

"My father met her in college and they had me. But she didn't want to have a child and my father begged her to let him have me."

He's not at all prepared for this conversation. Could never foresee this being the secret she promised she would tell him about. It was like something out of a drama.

He takes a deep breath before finally speaking.

"It must have been hard for Attorn--your mom. It must have been unbearable to make that decision."

She's silent beside him and when he glances over he can she can brain working, as if the idea never occurred to her.

"You think it was hard for her?"

"Well I don't really know, but I imagine it would be hard for anyone to give up a baby they had with them for nine months."

"Oh."

That's all she says and he doesn't push it. Has no right to tell her not to resent the mother who refused to raise her but was raising someone else. And then it hits him suddenly, everything falling into place.

"Sang Hyeon is really your brother. You're really his noona."

And this bursts the bubble of melancholy that had settled in the car, breaking her from her silent thoughtfulness.

"Yes. He came to me for help because he said that he knew that his noona wouldn't listen to mom." Her smile is surely enough to power a city it's so illuminating.

"Are you that happy to have a little brother?"

She turns to him this time and he doesn't care about the cars behind him or their horns honking or anything else, nothing else matters so he meets her eyes and doesn't look away, not even for a second.

"Yes. I like it. I've always been someone that others take care of and now I have someone that I can take care of. Someone who comes to me for help."

Yeah. There's no doubt, this is the woman he's in love with. And he's going to love her for the rest of their lives.

[tinyproprodigy]

Julian

"A sober New year" - Julian x Male Reader

||Notes : you will be briefly addressed as "He/Him/sir" || + || hope I got his personality close to his.||

|| Reblogs are welcome! ||

He. Was. Trying.

All night he had managed to stay away from any type of liquor as weird and strange as it may have been for him to walk sober amongst semi drunk party guests for the first time in forever-

Why was this happening? Did he quit drinking all together? all of a sudden? No, that would be a far fetched lie. This all stemmed from a conversation he had with Asra a few days back at the Rowdy Raven.

Asra listened in amusement as his friend ramble on about how Nadia planned this event for the new year, how she planned that event. But most of all, he was excited about the liquor she had managed to get.

"I'm telling you, this stuff is amazing!" He praised as he sipped his normal rum, asking for another cup already

"Kir Royale. A French cocktail." Another sip as he continued. "Only had it once and it was enough to get me obsessed with it!"

"then why don't you order it often?" Asra asked, gesturing his glass towards the bartender for emphasis.

"Asra, Asra, Asra. If the good stuff were to be found everywhere, it wouldn't be that much of a good stuff now would it?" He asked teasingly, getting a huff of mock exhaustion from Asra as he responded "The pumpkin bread made by the Baker is good stuff AND there's a lot of it so I don't know what you're talking about."

"right you are." Julian laughed, choosing to surrender this time.

"is the drinks all you're excited about?" Asra asked after a light pause in the conversation, calm eyes watching Julian as he waits for an answer.

"But of course not! I'll be able to show y/n the famous Kir Royale drink and have him taste it. I'm pretty sure he'll like it since it has a fruity... I'm feeling like I'm saying something wrong?" He slowly asked, taking note of Asra's unamused look.

"okay, let me help out your pityful soul for a sec."

And just like that, the plan was set. No drinking till midnight. An excruciating trail but one he was willing to put up with. Apparently this was a last time sort of thing, as there would be no traces of the drink the next day.

"hey" you called out, stepping beside him as you both watched the guests enjoy themselves. "Hey y/n! Enjoying the party?" He asked, gesturing to the scenery a bit dramatically. "It's almost midnight, might wanna go back and have fun before it strikes midnight."

"what do I look like? Cinderella?" You asked, laughing a little as a waiter walked past with drinks and snacks.

"would you like a drink, sir?" They asked you in a well mannered tone. Their posture and small smile showed professionalism.

"No thanks, I'm good."

"And you sir?" They turned to Julian, who was desperately trying to avoid any interaction between him and the waiter. "Me? Nah heh..I'm great!"

Watching him with squinted eyes, something clicked in your brain. A small devilish smirk crossed your lips as you turned to the waiter once more. "Actually, I think I'd like one."

That itself caused Julian's gaze to snap back to you, which you did not miss from the corner of your vision. "Right sir." The waiter smiled as he handed you the glass with a skilled hand and walked away to cater to the other guests.

Taking a whiff of the glass was amazing on its own. The fruity-sweet scent was relaxing and refreshing. "Wow, this actually smells delicious." You commented, glancing up at Julian.

"That should be expected! My reviews are nothing but accurate." He nervously chuckled, inching away from you as you kept on insisting he sniffed the drink too.

Listening you commenting on everything about the drink was slightly excruciating for him. The smell, the taste- even the drinks look.

What he didn't know was how you had barely drank much from the flute glass. Your intention was never to accept the drink for yourself to begin with- even though it tasted like heaven from the small sip you took.

"here."

"huh?" He asked in confusion as he watched you nudge the drink at him. "Oh, I don't really"- "I don't mean sniff it." You chuckled as you stood up straight. "I got it for you. I don't wanna drink it."

"I don't- you drink it." He nudged the drink back at you, forcing a smile. "No, you drink it." You nudged it back, forcing a smile of your own.

After a bit of bickering, you two sat in silence as the glass sat on the table Infront of you, untouched.

"why aren't you drinking?" You asked, huffing in exhaustion. "Are you sick?"

With a laugh, he shook his head as he explained what had lead to the no drinking rule. "Pftt"- you held in a laugh as he watched you in mock sadness as he wiped fake tears away with the table cloth "What's so funny? You're laughing at my struggles!?"

"No, no. Sorry." You laughed, shaking your head. "That was actually pretty sweet of you to do."

"then, there is no issue, yes?"

"no, there still is." You sighed, clasping your hands over his soft yet scared ones. "That doesn't bother me. As long as you're enjoying yourself too, i don't mind. What's important is that you and I are both having fun."

"Right..." He smiled, feeling slightly embarrassed. "How foolish of me- then let us have fun together before it's midnight, what do ya say?"

Just as he had said that, the count down began.

"Have fun within ten seconds, that's new." You teased, as Julian rolled his eyes and extended a hand for you with a soft smile. Placing yours in, you shifted closer, closing your eyes with a soft smile of your own as he placed a palm on your cheek, then resting his forehead on yours.

Four..

His thumb brushed your cheek

Three

Your face tilted a bit

Two

Soft lips met yours as the count down ended, a ruckus erupting around you bit the sounds distant. Like going underwater. His focus on you and you only.

"happy new year!!"

[mediocre-writerr]

history has it eyes on you [jennifer jareau]

jennifer jareau x fem reader

requested by anon: Love your JJ fics ❤️❤️ I was hoping could you do another one where the reader is somewhat new to the BAU and is either dating or has a thing with JJ. But the reader is known for doing these heroic and kinda reckless acts that ends up saving the victims. And while everyone in the bureau thinks that she's an absolute badass and incredible at her job JJ can't help but love and hate it. She loves it as she's amazing at her job and always ends up saving them but she hates how she always seems to be in the line of fire and in danger. After one too many close calls JJ kinda loses it on the reader.

*not my gif*

You were nineteen when you joined the academy. However, once you got the job you were longing for you were still a bright young prospect at twenty two. The youngest on the team, even younger than boy genius. 

You always had dreams of dying like a martyr. The bravest thing you thought that anyone could do was sacrifice themself for the ones they love the most. Sure, that’s not the healthiest thing in the entire world, but it was everything to you. 

“Have you guys heard that we’re getting a new member?” Garcia asked as her, Prentiss, and JJ walked into the bureau with their coffees in hand.

Prentiss nodded, “Heard they were a part of the Navy Seals for awhile. They were known as the youngest on that squad and they’re even younger than Reid,” 

“Really?” JJ asked, slightly shocked that someone is younger than Reid. 

Hotch walked out of his office as the rest of the team gathered by their desks, you walked right behind him, his taller figuring covering you from the view of the rest of the team.

Hotch cleared his throat before looking at all of them, “I’d like to formally introduce you guys to the newest member of the team, Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” 

You emerged from behind Hotch and you gave all of them an awkward wave. Until your eyes fell onto a pair of familiar blue ones. Her face was calm and collected, but you could tell by her eyes that she was internally freaking out.

You tried to fight off a smile that was forming on your face at the sight of your old flame back in the days of Afghanistan. But by the look on her face, you knew no one else really knew of her Afghanistan days.

Afghanistan wasn’t all bad. Sure you were put there to try and take down Bin Laden, but the city that was surrounded by war was absolutely beautiful. All of the architecture and the culture, even the people. 

This was one of the days where you completely forgot that you were in the middle of a war. JJ was standing on the balcony in the city of Kabul, the capitol of Afghanistan. The sun was setting behind her as you handed her a glass of wine.

It’s illegal to drink there, but as long as no one saw you called it a win. You stood behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. You hooked your chin onto her shoulder as you kissed her rosy cheeks. 

“This is nice,” she mumbled and you hummed in response.

“I agree. You make this whole mission so much more bearable,” you whispered.

Penelope ran over to you and gave you a big hug, “Hi! I’m Penelope Garcia, the best tech out there!” 

You laughed softly, hugging her back, “Hi!” 

Once you pulled away, you were introduced one by one to each of the team members. Until you eventually were stopped at the beautiful blonde you’ve known worlds ago. 

You extended your hand out to her, meeting her bright blue eyes. You raised your eyebrows up at her, “Y/N Y/L/N,” you formally introduced.

She hesitated before grabbing your hand, the familiar spark electrocuting your body and you could tell that she felt it too, “Jennifer Jareau,”

“I like your eyes, they’re very blue, did you know that?” you told her, recalling your first ever conversation.

JJ just gave a tight lipped smile before nodding, “Yeah, well, I kind of had them my whole life so I think I know that they’re blue,” 

“Right,” 

You were suited up in your gear as your commander walked you over to the representative from the state department. You climbed high in the rankings with all of your hard work and selflessness, you became a lieutenant commander. 

“Lieutenant commander Y/L/N, this is our state department liaison Jennifer Jareau. She will be helping assist us in communication with some of the hostages,” your commander introduced the two of you and you nodded.

You stuck out your hand and smiled at her softly, “Y/N Y/L/N,” 

She grabbed your hand, smiling back, “Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ for short,” 

“Well JJ, I like your eyes. They’re very blue, did you know that?” you asked, awkwardly. You mentally face palmed yourself, realizing that you were getting nervous around the beautiful blonde.

JJ laughed at your awkwardness before nodding, “Yeah, well, I kind of had them my whole life so I think I know that they’re blue,” 

“Right,” you drew out, mentally face palming yourself harder than before. 

You let out a soft chuckle before finally dropping her hand. You knew in a room full of profilers that they would notice if a friendly handshake lasted too long, no matter how hard you didn’t want to lose her touch. 

That was the only interaction the two of you had the entire case. Most of the time you were partnered up with Prentiss. She had more experience than JJ as a profiler since JJ was a liaison first. 

For your first case, you impressed them all with how selfless you were. You would push yourself in front of the rest of the team when confronting an unsub. You would always be the one talking them down as their gun was pointed right at you. 

“Jimmy Barnes, put the gun down,” you ordered, as he held the girl by gun point, “I said, put it down!” 

He shook his head, “No! She needs to die! I need to finish what I started!” he yelled.

Jimmy Barnes, your first ever unsub was ironically going after girls who matched your description. He became so obsessed with a video game that he altered it with reality. The villain in the game looking surprisingly like you.

“Then kill me instead, you’ll win the game if you let her go and kill me,” you offered.

You could feel JJ’s eyes on you and the rest of the team gave you a quick glance before going to look back at Jimmy. For a split second you weren’t sure, what he was gonna do until he eventually threw the hostage towards Rossi, before grabbing you in the process.

He thought he had a good grip on you, but you were a Navy Seal, you know how to get out of a hold or two. Before he could pull the trigger, you elbowed his groin and threw him onto the floor. 

Jimmy landed on his stomach with a hard thump, you straddled his back before  putting him in handcuffs, “Jimmy Barnes, you are under arrest for the murders of Nicole Watkins, Macy Martin, and Leah Butler,” you told him, listing all of his rights. 

Once you got back on the jet, your eyes drifted over to JJ who was staring out of the window. You just kept staring, trying to profile her from afar. You noticed that there was no ring on her finger yet, so that was a plus. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t dating anyone.

Morgan snapped you out of your trance, “That was a brave thing you did out there. He could’ve easily just shot you dead before you could even make a move,” 

“Yeah, but it saved the girl didn’t it?” you fired back and from the corner of your eye you could see JJ let out a sigh, shaking her head. 

“It did, you’re gonna be a great part of this team!” Morgan patted your shoulder before taking a seat next to Reid. 

You took this as an opportunity to get some shut eye on the flight back to Quantico. And your slumber seemed to drift back to you and JJ. 

The two of you were tangled in the sheets of the hard mattress. The hot air of Afghanistan causing your already sweating bodies to become more sticky. JJ was playing with your hair as her head rested on your chest. 

“This is very unprofessional,” she whispered.

You chuckled softly before nodding, “Well no one has to know what we do,” you whispered back, “But if anyone were to walk into my tent they’d see your clothes all over the floor,” 

She lifted her head slightly before seeing your clothes scattered all over it. She let out a content sight before putting her head back down.

“If I'm being honest, I don’t think I’d care,” she said, kissing your jawline. 

You exaggerated a gasp, “Did the Jennifer Jareau just say she wouldn’t care if someone caught us breaking the rules?!” 

“I wouldn’t care because I’m in love with you,” 

Your ears perked up at those five words, “I’m in love with you too,” you whispered, leaning down to attach your lips together.

The more you went on cases with the team, the more reckless (well you’d like to call it heroic) you’ve become. You would run into a hostage situation with an aggressive unsub without a bulletproof vest or weapon. 

You thought that you would get a talking to from Hotch about being so reckless, but he never did. The others rarely thought anything of it and just thought you were an absolute badass. Well, everyone but JJ, you could tell your need to constantly be the hero was getting under her skin a little. 

You just didn’t think she’d care anymore. She barely interacted with you and when you did they were short professional conversations. Even when you went out with the team, she wouldn’t interact with you.

“So, what’s going on with JJ?” Morgan asked you as you and the team were flying out to Tacoma, Washington. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Nothing,” 

He hummed, “Well you’re staring at JJ like you’re in a romcom and just lost the love of your life. So what’s going on? You know you can talk to me,” 

Morgan had become like an older brother figure to you. He was the closest person to you on the team and you knew he could trust him with anything.

“Well, JJ and I knew each other awhile ago. We had a thing and it was really good, but you know, nothing lasts forever,” you confined in him and he nodded.

“That’s why she’s avoiding you like the plague?” he asked.

You shrugged, “I don’t know. It was a long time ago and she broke things off with me. So, I don’t understand why she’s avoiding me. If anything it should be the other way around,” 

“I would just try to talk to her. Obviously, something’s still bugging her if she’s avoiding you this much. Just talk to her,” he suggested and you nodded. 

You wanted to talk to JJ the entire case, but the unsub shortened his kill time and struck back to back. So, you were working twice as hard and twice as fast to stop them. 

And when you did find them let’s just say, you had to act quick. The unsub set his own house on fire with him and the hostage family inside of it. Hotch had called the fire department, but they wouldn’t get there for another ten minutes.

There was no way that the family would survive that. The smoke inhalation. The fire spreading quickly. Before any of the team could even react, you were off and running in to a burning building. 

“Y/N!” you heard JJ shout, but it was too late you were already in the building. 

The unsub was standing there with a sinister smirk on your face and just as he was about to attack you, you sent a bullet through his shoulder. He fell onto the floor in pain. 

The family of three were coughing up a storm. You could feel the smoke already start to fill your lungs. You gestured for the family to start running out of the house. 

“My daughter is stuck under there! You need to get her out of here!” the father yelled and you nodded.

“I’ll save her, you guys need to leave now!” you screamed. 

“I’m not leaving-” the mom begins to protest, but you cut her off.

“I promise I’ll get her out of here, but if you don’t leave she’s not going to have anyone there to take care of her!” you exclaimed. Without another word they run out of the building. You looked at the little girl who was stuck behind a piece of broken ceiling. 

You smiled at the girl who just seemed numb and you grabbed her arm, “Hi kiddo,” you finally got out between coughs, “My name’s Y/N and I’m here to save you okay? You’re safe now. No one can hurt you. Do you mind if I touch you and help you out?” 

She nodded without another word. You started coughing uncontrollably before you finally held her in your arms. 

JJ was pacing back and forth from outside. Her thoughts spinning as she just watched you run into a burning building. Two figures started rushing out of the building. JJ and Morgan ran towards the couple, leading them towards the ambulance.

“Where’s the agent who went in to help you?” JJ asked, frantically. 

“She’s still in there. She’s helping our daughter, she was stuck. She promised that she’d save her,” the mother told JJ.

Right as she finished her sentence, there was huge crash. Everyone’s head turned back to the house to see the roof caved in and the building was falling apart. 

“Y/N,” JJ whispered before raising her voice, screaming out your name uncontrollably, “Y/N!”

Her mind flashed back to Afghanistan, when the good thing the two of you had going turned sour. 

It was dark out and you, JJ, and some of trying to search an abandoned compound that you assumed the Talibans were using to help create bombs. You sensed a slight tension against your shin. 

It felt like what would happen if you rubbed your shin against a bush. But there was no shrubbery around the group, only grass and dirt. At the same time there was a pinning noise and that was the only thing you could hear. 

You had walked into a tripwire, looking down you saw the primed grenade, “Grenade! Take cover!” you yelled to the rest of your team.

You don’t know why you did what you did. Maybe it was because you felt responsible for what was about to happen. You pushed JJ towards the rest of the group as one of your fellow soldiers pulled her behind the concrete building.

You threw off your backpack and jammed it into the grenade, before lying next to it in fetal position to block the explosion from expanding towards them. You were just counting down, waiting for the consequences. 

5, 4, 3, 2,1, you counted and your whole body relaxed as the thought that maybe the bomb was a dud crossed your mind. But just as you relaxed it blew up in front of you. 

“Y/N!” JJ screamed. 

The orange sparks and the smoke cleared, but you knew you were still alive. You were so disoriented, so disoriented to the point where you didn’t even notice that you were blasted so much further away from where you originally laid. 

JJ and the patrol medic ran over to you. She put her hands on my face and noticed how disoriented you were. JJ noticed the blood pouring down your nose and ears. 

“Y/N, I need you to stay with me,” JJ told you, drawing figures on your bloody cheeks, “The doctor’s checking you out, I need you to stay awake, okay? Please, for me,” her voice cracked. 

No matter how hard you tried, your eyes just seemed to shut and you couldn’t open them again.

“No!” JJ screamed as she continued to watch the house burn down in flames. 

Tears were flowing down her cheeks. The trauma of Afghanistan and the thought of losing you flooded her mind. She always wondered why her relationships with people after you never worked. 

She made excuses for herself. The idea that her job as a profiler took up too much of her time. Or the guys or girls she dated were just bad seeds. But that wasn’t the idea. It was the idea that she was still so in love with you, maybe even waiting for the day she’ll get you back. 

JJ looked around the rest of your team. Reid was trying his best to fight off tears, but you could hear him sniffling. He always thought of you as one of his best friends. You related to him more than anyone because of how young you were. 

Morgan and Prentiss stood up tall and were staying strong. But JJ could tell from a mile away that it was getting harder every second that was going by. Prentiss thought of you as a little prodigy, you reminded her of a young Prentiss, and all she wanted to do was protect you even though she knew you didn’t need it. 

Then there was Hotch who stood there emotionless, but he was just trying to actually stay strong for the team. Hotch knew that you were the reckless type, it didn’t take a profiler to notice that. 

The last thing he said to you before he introduced you to the team was, “I see that you want to fight, you’ve got this hunger. I was just like you when I was younger, head full of fantasies of dying like a martyr. Just remember, dying is easy, living is harder.” 

But then they saw a figure emerge from the smoke. The little girl you were carrying was unconscious in your arms. You were coughing up a storm as you crashed onto the lawn. 

The team and paramedics ran towards you. JJ cupped your cheeks as your eyes fluttered open and closed. The smoke that was filling your lungs, making it hard to breathe. The paramedics through an oxygen mask on your face as they tried to help you breathe.

You pulled it off really quick, “Y/N! Put the oxygen mask back on!” JJ scolded you.

You were coughing up a storm as you finally got out what you said between your coughs, “I’m still in love with you,” you told her.

She was about to respond when you started seizing on the ground. Hotch pushed the team out of the way so the paramedics could do their job.

JJ’s mine still drifted back to Afghanistan as she watched them drag you to the hospital. It reminded her of when they brought you back to the med camp after the explosion. The fear settling into her bones that she might not ever see you again.

When you were finally more stable to understand what was going on around you, you were in the med tent of the camp. JJ was sitting next to you with her hands intertwined with yours.

You moved slightly and her head shot up to look at you, “How bad is it?” 

“Your eardrums are perforated, but there’s suspected to be no lasting damage.Your backpack and body armor absorbed most of the damage. You know the doctors say you’re lucky, but I just say you’re stupid,” she told you and you looked at her with furrow brows. 

“That was a little harsh,” you muttered.

She rolled her eyes, “What you did was stupid! It was stupid and reckless! I almost lost you today because of how stupid you were being!” 

“It was heroic!” you screamed. It didn't matter to you that your head was still pounding and your ears were ringing from the explosion, but you were being attacked after you just woke up.

“You don’t see the point! I almost lost you! There are people who care about you! I care about you and if I lost you today I don’t know what I would’ve done!” she screamed, “So I need you to promise me that this isn’t going to happen again. That you’ll start being more careful and thinking more without doing,” 

You sat there in silence unsure of what to say, “I can’t promise that,” you whispered after so many minutes. 

She bit her lip, removing her hand from yours. JJ stood up and started packing up the things that she had in the tent, “Then I can’t do this. If you’re not going to even respect a simple decision as to being less reckless for your own safety, then I can’t do this. I don’t think that what I’m asking is too hard, but I guess it is,” 

“JJ,” you whispered, but it was too late she was already gone.

She didn't come to visit you after that. As you sat there in your own silence, you realized that you made a mistake. You wanted to talk to her, but every time you asked someone to grab her she would always be busy or she’d just never come. 

Once you were finally well enough to be discharged from med tent and back to your own, it was too late. There was a little note left on the hard mattress the two of you once shared.

“Y/N, I’ve decided to leave. Another state department liaison is coming to replace me. I just can’t stay and watch you throw your life on the line anymore. Maybe in another world, but just not this one- JJ,” the note read and you let out a groan of frustration before falling onto the mattress.

You woke up from your seizure to see JJ sitting the corner of the room. She was curled up in the faux leather seat as she was sleeping peacefully. Your mouth felt dry as you reached over to grab the water that sat on the bedside table. 

All your stirring around caused JJ to wake up, her head shooting over to you to make sure you were okay. You looked at her softly and smiled, “How’s the little girl?”

“Safe and recovering,” she answered shortly.

“Where’s everyone else?” you asked.

“They’re in the waiting room. I tried to get them to go home, but they insisted on staying,” she mentioned and you smiled softly.

You could tell she was holding back from what she was going to say, so you let out a sigh, “Whatever you’re holding back, just get it out,” 

“That was stupid of you,” she said sternly, reminding you of your very last conversation before you met her again, “You almost died again! And I had to be there to witness it again!”

“I saved a family’s life today,” you told her, your voice dry, but just as stern. 

“But at what cost? Risking your own?!” she exclaimed and you pinched the bridge of your nose, putting your head down, “It was stupid!”

“Can you stop saying that?! It was brave and heroic! Why can’t you just be accepting about it like everyone else?!” you yelled back.

“There it is again! With your heroic bullshit!” she threw her hands up in frustration, walking closer to your bed, “What’s the big deal about it?” 

“I need to be remembered! I need to have my name in books and you know sacrificing yourself and saving as many people as possible gets you there! My family’s legacy is shot, I need to make a legacy of mine and if this is the way to do it then so be it! I need to be a hero, so I can be loved since my parents never did!” you finally exploded, telling her all the reasons why you are the way you are.

“You don’t need to sacrifice yourself to be loved!” she argued.

You scoffed, “Well, apparently I do since the only time you’ve seemed to want to talk to me since I’ve joined the team is when I’m recovering from almost dying. I don’t understand why you’re so angry at me right now, you broke up with me. You left me to recover from the bomb on my own! So tell me, why do you even care?!” 

“Because I’m still in love with you!” she finally screamed and your eyes softened.

“You don’t need to sacrifice yourself to be a hero or loved because in my eyes you’re already a hero. I care because the thought of living the rest of my life without you kills me. Living my life without you the last few years was the time I felt numb. Then you came back and I wanted to give us a shot again, but I was scared,” she whispered.

“Scared about what?” you asked.

“You were still as reckless as ever. You are still so obsessed with getting your name in the history books that you don’t care who you hurt in the process. I was scared that if I got too attached that one day you’d just die,” she told you, “At least with breaking up with you, I knew you were still alive and I didn’t lose you forever,”

There was a moment of silence before she spoke up again, “You don’t understand that you risking your life out like that hurts the people who love and care about. You don’t need to have millions of people know your name, all you need are the ones who matter most to you and you don’t understand that. I love how protective and heroic you are, but I hate it more. The hate overcomes the love,” 

You reached your hand out for her to come closer. You intertwined your fingers together before placing a kiss to the top of her hand. She had tears threatening to pour down her face.

You brushed a strand of her blonde hair from behind her ear before you cupped her cheeks softly, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I didn’t know how badly my acts affected you. I wish that we talked about this when I was still stationed, maybe I could’ve knocked some sense into myself and we’d still be together,”

“But I’d really like a second chance JJ,” you whispered shyly, the fear of rejection overtaking your promise, “I’ll make that promise I should’ve made ages ago. Be less reckless, be a hero in smaller less dramatic ways. But I also understand if you don’t, I know I’m fucked in the head,” 

JJ leaned her forehead on top of yours before kissing you softly, “One more chance,” she whispered, “No more bombs, or gunmen, or fires,”

You kissed her once more, “I just hope I can be the hero that you deserve, the right kind of hero,” 

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you won’t be,” 

[merakiui]

Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, and Childe Finding out That You’re Being Abused HCs

cw: mentions/descriptions of (physical and emotional) abuse, injuries, depressive mood/thoughts, implied violence **please proceed with caution and do not read if this is triggering! note - submissions are confusing for me, so I wrote it in this format. I hope that was okay! 

@tuestika said: Hi! Sorry that I send my request through submission, tumblr has sometimes eaten my asks either wholly or have omnomned whole ask xD Usually my requests sent through submissions arrive intact so…. I saw that you had done Scaramouche reacting finding out their s/o is being abused headcanons, may I request headcanons for Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao and Childe finding out their their s/o is being abused? Keep up good job! <3

🔥 Diluc 🔥

Diluc might not be the most vocal person in the world, but he’s definitely observant. He’s gotten rather skilled at picking apart your social cues because he’s spent a lot of time with you. 

So when you barge into his tavern one evening, looking absolutely disheveled and asking for one of the Knights, he’s feeling two emotions: confusion and irritation. 

For one, you shouldn’t even entrust your issue to those inadequate Knights. Nevertheless, you are his friend and he isn’t going to kick you out just because you mentioned them. 

He waves you over to the bar and is thoroughly shocked when you beg him to let you hide behind it. Then he notices your split lip and the fresh injuries on your face and forearms, and he wastes no time in getting to the point.

“Why were you out so late fighting hilichurls? I hope you haven’t led any here. We don’t need that sort of trouble right now.”

“Sorry. No, that’s not it. I just—you’re the only one...” You’re struggling to piece a coherent statement together, too busy looking over your shoulder to keep track of your thoughts. “I didn’t know where I could go. I mean, I thought of you and—“

“Please slow down. Start at the beginning.”

More concerned over your safety than professionalism, Diluc allows you to slip behind the bar counter, where you cower on the ground to avoid being seen. 

You gesture for him to come down to your height and he sighs, silently complying when he finds there aren’t any new customers to serve. Bending down to your level, he holds onto the countertop to keep his balance and then he locks eyes with you. 

“What exactly happened?”

You inhale a shuddering breath, wrapping your sore arms around yourself for comfort. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you recall the event. Your abuser had found you after you’d left to get some fresh air, they’d cornered you in a secluded alley, and—you can’t finish the rest of the story.

Diluc doesn’t expect you to continue. He nods as he lets the information sink in, already harboring a deep resentment for this despicable individual. 

“Wait here. I’ll close the tavern early. In the meantime, we should see to your injuries and then we’ll look for that person.”

“I really think we should tell the Knights...” you mumble, knowing he’ll disapprove. “They’re more suited to these types of cases.”

“The Knights are incompetent. The investigation will take days, if not weeks. What happens if your abuser knows they’ll be coming for them? They’ll try to escape and then there’ll be no telling where they’ve gone.”

“I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to—“

“I’ll take care of it.”

You try to object because it’s dangerous and you don’t want him to get injured on your behalf. But he’s insistent in his decision, claiming that if the Knights can’t help you no one can. And you really wouldn’t feel safe if your abuser was still roaming free, so you have no other choice but to allow him to carry out the investigation himself.

And Diluc can be quite clever at times. It won’t be hard to traverse the interior of Mondstadt at night, where his identity melts away into that of the sneaky Darknight Hero. 

He’s going to protect you no matter what. Your abuser won’t receive an ounce of sympathy from Diluc. All he feels is cold hatred when he catches them. Someone as precious as you does not deserve to be put through such torment, and he’ll see to it that your abuser pays a hefty price to make up for all of the damage they’ve caused.

🧊 Kaeya 🧊

Kaeya can’t understand why you’ve started isolating yourself from everyone. In the past, you were always such great friends with the Knights, always catching up to talk to one of them.

He’d spent a lot of time with you and has since gotten to know you through lighthearted conversations and gossip from the people of Mondstadt. 

For someone so appreciated and well-known, he can’t wrap his head around why you might want to suddenly disappear, hiding yourself away as if you didn’t exist. 

And then he happens to catch you in town one day while you’re out running some errands. It’s so like him to pop in with a few flirty lines, but the words stick in his throat when he notices the bandages stuck to your arms and legs. 

“That can’t be good,” he says as he approaches you, leaning ever so gracefully against a wooden support beam. “Why don’t we find Barbara? I’m sure she’ll have you patched up in no time, my dear friend.”

You don’t think you’re worth it so you shake your head, nervously hoping he’ll take the hint and go away. 

“I hope you’re not accepting those dangerous commissions again,” he adds, half teasing and half serious. You can’t tell whether he’s trying to sound chiding or not. 

“Please just...leave me be. I’m a little busy right now.” You try to leave the stall you’re at, walking stiffly to avoid limping in front of him. “I’m not feeling well, so if you’ll excuse me—“

Kaeya pushes off from the beam, standing in front of you with a posture that appears immovable. “By order of the Calvary Captain,” he’s saying, a playful glint in his eyes, “you aren’t allowed to move from that spot until you tell me what’s bothering you and why you’re covered head to toe in bandages.”

You can easily object to such an order, but you figure it’s better to answer instead of arguing over your physical condition. So you explain a modified version of the story, telling him that you simply got into a disagreement and it ended in bruises on both sides. 

Kaeya hears the tremble in your voice when you say it; you’re lying. His expression softens at once and he steps away, indicating that you’re free to leave. But you don’t; you’re looking at him with such a helpless, pleading look. It breaks his heart.

You break before him, lips quivering as you beg for his help. You’re so scared and alone, and you’re not sure how long you can suffer through this before it seriously hurts you. 

“This is the first time I’ve gotten out in weeks.” So that explains your sudden isolation. “Please... I don’t want to go back home anymore. I’ll do anything. Just don’t let them hurt me again.”

Kaeya’s absolutely stunned to hear the silent revelation in your words. You’re awkwardly reaching to undo one of the bandage wrappings to prove your point, but he stops you short. That’s all the proof he needs.

You’ll be brought back to the Knights of Favonius’ Headquarters to be tended to while he gathers a team to search for your abuser. Since you gave him a solid description, it shouldn’t be too hard to find them. 

And once they’re apprehended, Kaeya will subject them to a grueling interrogation. There will be no gentle punishment; it’s going to be as unforgiving as the abuse you had to suffer through. 

☁️ Xiao ☁️

You’ve never really been keen on physical touch and Xiao understands that completely. He usually avoids any sort of interaction to begin with, unless it’s absolutely necessary, so it’s not a surprise whenever you shy away from large crowds.

He has grown rather fond of you, which has lead to the two of you meeting at Wangshu Inn for some Almond Tofu and relaxed chit-chat.

During one of your many conversations, you bring up a few alarming statements. They’re just personal points you’d like to change, such as your weak fighting spirit or the way your joints brokenly click when you stretch. 

Xiao wonders why you’d want to change yourself. You’re not usually this doubtful of yourself. In the past, you would always play the role of his smiling friend, putting on a positive face even when he was in a disagreeable mood. 

Xiao is examining your movements as you awkwardly explain yourself and when your arms move he catches the sight of a rope burn etched into your wrist. 

“What happened?” He gestures to your sleeve, to which you react in a nervous manner, shyly pulling your sleeve down to hide it. Xiao frowns a bit. “Did you get into an accident?”

“No, of course not! I’m fine. It’s just a result of my clumsiness.”

It really doesn’t look like that to Xiao and when he truly looks at you again he finds that you appear abnormally tired and exhausted. He isn’t going to sugarcoat anything and he could be making a giant assumption, but he still asks.

“Is someone hurting you?”

Your eyes widen for a split second and Xiao catches that movement like a cat drawn to a laser pointer. He won’t force you to explain unless you feel comfortable doing so. The last thing he wants is upsetting you or pressuring you into something you don’t want to talk about.

Eventually, though, the story will come to light and he’ll hear all about the horrors you’ve gone through. That rope burn was just one of many punishments you’ve had to endure, and Xiao’s just about ready to snap. How dare someone lay their filthy hands upon you in such a violent way?

Xiao will calmly tell you to stay at Wangshu Inn or anywhere else in Liyue where you’ll be safe. He’ll watch over you while you take time to recuperate and heal. He’s going to make sure you’ll never have to go through something like that ever again.

Having Xiao by your side makes the healing process all the more comforting.

And when you fall asleep in a soft, warm bed, Xiao slips out into the night to search for your abuser. It won’t be a pretty sight once he gets his hands on the human trash who dared to hurt you.

💧 Childe 💧

He’s very perceptive when it comes to your health and overall well-being. After all, he’s got brothers and sisters to care for; perception is absolutely necessary in order to keep them happy and healthy.

So it doesn’t take long for him to realize your behavior is uncharacteristic. You’re jumpier than usual, always apologizing for the littlest of things, and you’ll look over your shoulder whenever you sense something.

It’s almost as if you expect someone to suddenly come at you, which isn’t all that odd. Childe has been known to keep you on your toes when he’s looking for a fight.

But on one particular day he manages to give you a spook when he comes up beside you, grinning and showing up in your peripheral so suddenly that it nearly gives you a heart attack. 

You’re so frightened as you back away, practically folding in on yourself in an effort to protect yourself from an imaginary blow. Childe pauses, that silly grin fading when he realizes you’re shaking.

“Hey, it wasn’t that scary. Come on, comrade!” He’s approaching you warily, not entirely sure why you’re acting the way you are. He’s always been spontaneous; you should be used to this by now.

But you refuse to let him come any closer, having to distance yourself so that you can ease your racing heart and hyperventilating lungs. Once you’ve calmed down, embarrassment floods through you at the fact that Childe just witnessed all of that. 

Childe will ask if you’re okay with him stepping closer and if you nod he’ll be on you like a hawk, pulling up your sleeves before you can stop him. 

For once, you catch an expression you normally don’t find on Childe: surprise. He’s genuinely shocked at what he sees: dark bruises and shallow lacerations from something sharp. 

Either you got these in your many sparring matches or there’s another factor at play here, and Childe is almost certain it’s the latter.  

His voice is gentle as he asks you to explain what’s going on and once you do he’s already set on finding the one who did this. He seems to forget all about his Fatui work, wanting to capture your abuser and give them a piece of his mind—and subject them to more than a few pieces of his strength, too. 

He’ll have you protected in no time, offering to take you to the best healer. You’ll be treated wonderfully and he’ll even lay off on your sparring matches for a while. 

In the meantime, once he gets his hands on your abuser, everything becomes fair game. After all, someone has to handle the brunt of his anger and pent-up bloodlust from the lack of a fight. And your abuser is the perfect match to pummel into the ground. Childe shows absolutely no mercy for them. 

[thefanficmonster]

Interesting Encounters

Corpse Husband *& Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Paranoia and Fear of Invasion of Privacy

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse has an interesting run-in with his regular delivery girl, having the chance to talk to her for the first time despite her having been delivering to his door for months. It’s a big step in overcoming his anxiety and paranoia when talking to strangers.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! Hope you come across the final product of your request and give it a read and if so I hope you like it! Sorry for the wait, I hope it was worth it though! Love, Vy ❤

It’s a regular Monday morning, close to 10AM and Corpse’s face is practically glued to the sound editing app he’s downloaded, playing around with some cool effects to add to his voice in the background of the new song he’s been working on. He hasn’t been able to sleep a wink thanks to the immense excitement, not that he would’ve been able to regardless, but the tune and the lines have been stuck in his head all throughout the weekend and he knows they’ll be bothering him until he turns them into something other people will be able to listen and give an opinion on as well. So far he’s done plenty of work but there’s plenty more to go until it’s done. He’s at that point he usually needs feedback and wants to ask for it but would rather not to avoid either too harsh judgement or fake praise.

He slides the headset off, deciding to take a break for the sake of his sanity before he drives himself to insanity with the intensity of his focus on this new piece. His brain just so conveniently sends him a reminder that his groceries are probably waiting for him outside the door. He has, as of the last half a year or so, had someone deliver his groceries to him to avoid trips to the grocery store with both the whole pandemic situation and the growth of following which translates to growth of the risk of him getting recognized. That’s the main reason - and maybe the only one - as to why he doesn’t interact with the people who deliver to him either. He always gives his delivery person the instruction to leave whatever he’s ordered at the doorstep and if it’s not takeout to not even ring the doorbell. 

That being said, the deliverer of his groceries doesn’t ring the doorbell to give him the kind reminder to be responsible, but luckily he hasn’t forgotten to collect them yet in the six months he’s been practicing this delivery technique.

Going to the front door and looking out of the peephole, he confirms there are several full plastic bags waiting to be picked up on the mat. With the person who brought them not in sight, Corpse unlocks the door and steps out to bring in the groceries for the week. Taking them to the kitchen, he unpacks the goods in the three bags. At first glance he would’ve been fooled, seeing as how it seems that all he has ordered is there. But, each Monday, he receives exactly four bags of groceries. One is missing. He rolls his eyes thinking he didn’t see it outside and left it there while he was hurriedly collecting the rest so he gets up to go grab it real quick.

While in the meantime...

Y/N looks through the remainder of bags in her minivan, making a route in her head for what roads and shortcuts she can take to deliver the last of the groceries to the respective homes they need to be taken to. Upon looking through them, however, she sees a bag labeled ‘MM’ that she uses short for ‘Mystery Man’, aka the guy who never opens the door to greet her whenever she delivers him anything. She works for several delivery services such as takeout, groceries, clothes even and has delivered to that apartment hundreds of times but has never met the resident, giving her the right to call him Mystery Man, aka ‘MM’.

“Ah, shit.“ She mumbles under her breath, realizing she failed to grab the fourth bag when on her way up to MM’s apartment.

Coming to terms with the fact that she’ll have to lose another five minutes going back up to his floor, she grabs the bag and takes off running back inside the building and up the stairs, deciding it would be quicker than taking the elevator.

Just as she arrives to the floor, heading straight for the door, it opens, freezing her in her tracks as her eyebrows shoot up.  At the doorstep stands a guy with an eye patch who looks more surprised and maybe even a little terrified than her. Taking in that Mystery Man is not such a mystery anymore, she returns to her professionalism, remaining at a distance and outstretching the hand holding the bag towards him.

“Sorry, forgot to drop this one off as well, I’m a bit all over the place today.“ She says in her most professional voice.

Corpse too regains his composure and takes the handed bag from Y/N gloved hand. Before he can think twice about it he says, “Thanks, uh...”

“Y/N.“ She says, “I’ve delivered to you countless times, it’s funny you don’t know my name but it’s to be expected since I’ve never seen you. This would be a good time to tell me your name so I don’t have to call you Mystery Man anymore.“ She laughs, cutting her own laughter off barely a second later when she realizes what she’s said, “Oh, fucking shit...”

Corpse chuckles, clear amusement in the sound, “Mystery Man? Interesting, interesting. If I ever become a superhero I’ll make sure to pick that name.” He fails to even pay mind to the fact that he’s spoken a lot more than he’d usually feel comfortable with.

Y/N laughs a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, “Yeah, sorry about that. I promise to come up with a better one if you’re not willing to tell me your real one. Like....Pirate, for example?” she suggests, raising her shoulders.

He can’t help but let out a laugh, “You’d be surprised, but my name is not so far from your mark. It’s, um....” He’s not looking forward to the judgmental look or the questions he might receive in response to his statement but he succumbs to the expected disappointment, “My name’s Corpse.”

Surprisingly, she just smiles - a smile he cannot see due to the surgical mask she’s wearing but the crinkle at the corners of her eyes gives it away. “Cool! Well, I better get going then.”

Just as she turns to head for the elevator this time, seeing as she’s still out of breath from the run up the stairs, Corpse gets an idea he’d probably not be too fond of if he gave himself time to think it over. Which is exactly why he didn’t.

“Hey!“ He calls after her, gaining her attention immediately, causing her to turn around, “You got a minute? I need a little help with something...“

Y/N’s eyebrows raise a little, a moment before she shrugs her shoulders, “Meh, I’m already behind schedule, what’s an extra minute gonna do?” And just like that, they strut their way back towards his apartment.

He can’t help but chuckle, taking the opportunity to crack a joke, “This is how people often get killed. You don’t just walk into a stranger’s apartment like that.”

She scoffs as she passes the threshold, “Believe it or not, you can learn a lot about a person based on the groceries they buy. And trust me buddy, you’re not a murderer.” Earning herself a laugh and a nod with that remark, she continues, “You do appear to be an artist with all the cheap food you’re buying though.”

Corpse laughs yet again, a hint of nervousness is sensed in his laugh this time around though, “Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re still gonna call me an artist when you hear this song I’ve been working on. Not even out of the box yet.”

Y/N stops in her tracks, “Well, well, well, aren’t I honored to be one of the lucky people hearing this before its release.”

“The first hearing it before its release.“ He corrects her with a pointed look, not missing the excitement that arose in her eyes.

“Let’s hear it then!“

Of all the friendship stories that exist, no one can say this ain’t a unique one.

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[bestiesenpai]

Recess - Nanami Kento

Don’t mind if i do~ femme reader no content warnings, it’s just a little fluff :) 2.1k words

"Papa, do you like Miss (Y/N)?" The young voice of Kento's son sounded next to him as he walked the young boy to his second grade class.

"What do you mean?" A blush tinged Kento's ears; it was embarrassing his son could figure it out so easily.

"Well I always catch you lookin' at her when you drop me off...and you talk to her a lot sometimes..." The child didn't really have a lot to go off of and he squeezed his fathers hand as they came to an intersection.

"I like her a normal amount, Yuji." Just a few more blocks and Kento would be free from this.

"What's that mean?"

"We're just acquaintances." Kento picked up his pace just a little, eager to drop him off and staunchly avoid eye contact with you.

"What's that mean?" Yuji echoed again, looking up at Kento curiously.

"I don't like Miss (Y/N) like how you say I do.” Finally they were at the school and Kento could ease up the hold he had on his son's hand. There was a swarm of other kids all in their little uniforms, matching tops and shorts for the upcoming summer weather.

“Miss (Y/N)!” Letting go of his hand, Yuji ran to you, latching onto the fabric of your sundress as you stood outside the school and made sure the kids were going to the right places.

“Hello!” Rubbing the back of Yuji’s head, you smiled down at him. “Are you ready for school today?”

“Yeah!” Today was a special day, after lunch they got to watch a movie about dinosaurs. Opening his mouth to speak again, Yuji saw something else that caught his eye. “Megumi! Nobara!” And off he ran to say hello to his friends.

Kento stood awkwardly where Yuji had left him, clenching and unclenching his fists. Should he talk to you? It wasn’t like Yuji dictated what he could and couldn’t do, but he didn’t want the kid to get any more impressions. Or would not talking to you make it even more obvious?

“Have a good day at work, Nanami.” You called out to him, waving and smiling at him with such ease it made his heart swell.

“Y-you too.” Clearing his throat, Kento waved back and scanned the crowd to see where Yuji was one last time. Spotting his son walking into the building with his friends, Kento nodded toward you and started to walk away. “See you after school.”

“Bye!” Waving again, you turned your attention to another student, and Kento went about his way.

Except he didn’t see you after school, he saw you much earlier than that. Yuji had forgotten his lunch despite swearing up and down that he’d packed it all by himself, so Kento was tasked with delivering it.

Going into the school and walking past brightly decorated classrooms, he quickly found the class Yuji was in. Peeking in through the window to see them all still sitting down, Kento leaned against the wall until the bell rang and they were let out.

“Yuji.” The rich timbre of Kento’s voice cut through the shrill sounds of children, easily reaching the intended recipient.

“Papa, you came!” Setting his sights on the lunch box in Kento’s hands, the little seven year old leapt to grab it. “Sorry I forgot my lunch!”

“It’s okay, I’m just glad I caught it in time.”

“Thanks papa!” Once he got his hands on it, Yuji gave Kento a quick hug and scampered down the hall.

“Hello again, Nanami.” Turning his head, Kento saw you leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed as children filtered out of the classroom.

“Yuji forgot his lunch.” Kento felt a little silly already trying to justify why he was there. You’d probably seen the whole interaction take place and knew exactly what transpired.

“Mhmm, he mentioned that at the start of class today.” Nodding to yourself, you flicked your head behind you. “He told me not to call you, said he ‘for sure’ had a feeling you would come and bring it.” You grinned and pushed yourself away from the door, slyly giving Kento a once over in his business attire. Despite working from home most days, he still chose to get dressed up like this.

Kento could only nod in agreement as he watched you walk back into the room and to your desk in the corner of the room. Letting his eyes roam over the room, Kento could see clearly where his son was sitting, in the middle of the room with a bunch of stickers on his desk.

“Ah, Nanami?” Your shy voice cut through the internal dilemma Kento was having about how to smoothly exit the room.

“Yes?” Taking a slow step into the room, Kento could see you were looking at your computer screen in apprehension.

“Are you good with technology?” A sheepish laugh accompanied your question and Kento thought it was cute you were embarrassed. “I can’t seem to get any video playing on the projector and we’re supposed to watch a movie today.” Gesturing to the device on the ceiling, you worried your lip and looked at him.

“I know a thing or two, I can try.” Committing to coming into the room, Kento walked briskly over to your desk. There weren’t a lot of things that Kento couldn’t do and fixing a computer was surely not one of them.

“Thank you so much! I tried some stuff but it was no use!” Pushing your chair away from the desk and to the side, you let Kento take up the space you were previously in.

Grabbing the mice and beginning to click through applications, Kento wasn’t sure he could fix your problem. Not because he didn’t know what was wrong, he knew exactly what was wrong, but this was the first time he was alone with you and this close. He could smell the light perfume you put on and feel the heat radiating from your body. It was harder to focus than he thought it was.

“I clicked that one before and it didn’t work.” Your arm shot out to point at a few icons, making sure Kento didn’t waste his time on them.

“Really?” He mumbled, clicking on it anyway and chuckling when you grunted in mock annoyance.

“Yes really.” Sticking your tongue out at him, you watched him work intently, eager to know how to fix the problem should it ever come up again.

“Miss (Y/N), I think your computer is opening the wrong application to play the video.” You’d told him before to just call you (Y/N) when no kids were around, but Kento couldn’t bear to drop the formality; he didn’t want to get too comfortable with saying your name like that, it would only spur on the daydreams he had of you.

Mumbling something about how simple the fix was, you stood up and grabbed a remote off the desk, turning the projector on and watching as the opening credits to the movie played on the classroom wall.

“Thank you so much, Nanami!” Clapping your hands together excitedly, you turned to him. Your back was to the large windows, warming you up and casting the sun all around you.

“Happy to help.” Kento nodded, fighting to remain his stoic self and not take notice of how easy it would be to push you against said windows and kiss you. Your class was on the first floor of the building, anyone could walk by and see it if he did it, and that kind of risk had Kento’s heart beating a little faster.

“Yuji is so lucky to have a dad like you, I bet you’re great around the house!” Setting the remote down, you pat Kento on the arm. He really had no choice in the matter, his wife running off shortly after Yuji was born and leaving him with sole custody. Feeling the touch of your hand reminded him how long it had been since he’d had any physical contact with a member of the opposite sex.

“Mi- (Y/N).” Turning sharply to you, Kento took a deep breath through his nose, nostrils flaring as he drank in your form. Summer really suited you, breezy clothes and longer days, the warmth in the air meshing well with the warmth in your personality.

“Yes?” Blinking owlishly at him, you shuffled just the tiniest bit back out of surprise.

“I want to show you how good I am around the house.” The line, coming out stilted and spoken with uncertainty, had your brows coming together a little.

“W-what do you mean?” Your breathing was coming out shorter now, nerves beginning to prickle your skin the longer you and Kento stood looking at each other.

“I want…” Licking his lips nervously, Kento knew this could be a reach. He could be ruining the good relationship the two of you had, the professional relationship you had. He could make you uncomfortable, and while that was the last thing he wanted to do, he couldn’t stop himself from taking a step forward and making you back up into the windows.

“I want to take you out. On a date.” Saying the words all in one big rush, Kento watched your face closely. Your lower lip trembled and your fingers curled into your dress as you thought of a response.

“I’d like that.” Your cheeks were burning intensely and turning your head to look at the wall beside you was the only saving grace you had. The silly little crush you had on Kento, the one you tried to stamp out and ignore, was finally allowed to take shape.

“Really?” Smiling loosely like an idiot, Kento put his hand on the window panes, leaning forward and almost touching you as he exhaled in relief. “I’m glad.” Peeking at you through his lashes, Kento tried to ignore the fact he could see right down your dress and to your breasts.

The longer he looked at you though, the more he realised how close he actually was to you. Your breath reached his face, if he wanted to Kento could drop his arm and easily envelop you in a hug, or perhaps-

“May I…?” He started to ask as he leaned in to kiss you. Hovering over your lips, he brushed the tip of your nose with his as he waited for you to squeak out a yes and nod before proceeding.

Touching your lips gently, Kento forced himself to go slow. There wasn’t any need to rush, he told himself, but the excitement of finally getting to kiss you was threatening to steamroll the control he had over himself.

Reaching a hand out, you rest it on his shoulder, your fingers slowly curling into his collar and holding it tightly. Tilting your head and deepening the kiss slightly, you breathed a little harder through your nose as Kento shuffled closer.

“I knew it!” The overjoyed shriek of Yuji surprised both of you, enough so that you pushed Kento as hard as you could away from you in shock. He was standing at the door to the classroom, his fellow classmates behind him staring in awe and confusion.

“Damn, lunchtime is over already?” Running past Kento’s dazed form, you wiped your lips off furiously as you collected the kids and ushered them into the room.

“I was right, papa! I was right! I was right! You do like Miss (Y/N)! You don’t like her a normal amount, you like her a lot! You were kiss-” Yuji was shouting at the top of his lungs, silenced only by Kento sliding a hand over his mouth.

“Be quiet, don’t yell like that inside the classroom.” Kento groaned, already feeling a headache form at having to explain himself to Yuji later. When he asked you out, he already had a vague plan in the back of his head on how he was going to hide it from the young boy, but that was completely out the window now. “Go sit down, we’ll talk later.” Nudging him toward his desk, Kento tried to ignore the whispers from the other students about what they’d seen.

“Yuji, is Miss (Y/N) your new mom?” Nobara whispered loudly, looking obviously between you and Kento.

“Not yet, they have to get married first.” Megumi whispered back, pointing at his ring finger.

“Married?! I wanna come!”

“I think it’s best I leave.” Straightening his tie, Kento nodded curtly at you before giving Yuji a lingering look. “Don’t make any trouble.”

“Yeah, okay.” Yuji was definitely going to save all the questions he had, saving them for the most opportune time. “Bye papa.”

“See you after school.” He was talking to you just as much as he was talking to Yuji, taking a sneaky glance at you before turning on his heel and walking out of the classroom.

“Miss (Y/N), are you going to live with us now?”

Dinner time was going to be pretty awkward tonight.

[arvandus]

Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY!  1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it.  Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught.  Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

 All of the above?

 All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire.  Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name.  The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

 Like his hands.  You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight.  They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand.  They were a thing to be feared and avoided.  But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like?  You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

 Or his lips.  They were always covered by his mask.  You never, ever saw him without it.  You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin.  Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

 It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive.  Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

 You bet that part of him was soft too.

 The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes.  They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes.  But they lacked the warmth of Heaven.  Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

 The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore.  Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.  

 He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own.  That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing.  Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization.  You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates.  No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

 First impressions were everything to Kai.  Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion.  As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again.  You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips.  After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster.  And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

 The message he sent was clear: adapt or die.  When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

 So, you adapted.  As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path.  The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

 And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad.  Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him.  But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either.  Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often.  But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it.  And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth.  But it was just a job, right?  You didn’t need warmth.

 So why did you feel so dissatisfied?  Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

 The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

 You craved his attention.  It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care.  To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction.  The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

 As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust.  They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were.  It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.”  You wanted him.  At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse.  After all, this was Overhaul.  Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain.  It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.  

 You began to act different in front of him.  Nothing too obvious, of course.  After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all.  All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

 So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance.  You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes.  Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings.  In the end though, it made no difference.  There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

 Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside.  It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening.  Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone.  No papers remained on his desk.  His gloves and plague mask were gone.  With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

 Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood.  It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints.  You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

 You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution.  No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

 You should have just left it at that.  But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

 That should have been your first clue.

 But your mental alarms never sounded.  Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

 You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right?  Left for the evening.  What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit?  With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

 That should have been your second clue.

 But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment.  You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes.  It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction.  If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

 Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot.  Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded.  What if those were his fingers?  The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more.  You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it.  Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

 You shouldn’t be doing this.  Not here of all places.  But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations.  After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it.  And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him.  Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

 And dear God, did you need it.  You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties.  Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

 What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.  He was gone, right?  And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left.  He’d be none the wiser.

 Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get.  You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

 So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in.  A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart.  In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill.  It felt so fucking good.  The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat.  You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

 “Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

 “What do you think you’re doing?”

 The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

 There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

 Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic.  You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

 FUCK. Of course.  You forgot to check outside.  He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

 Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  You hadn’t heard him enter.  How long had he been standing there??

 “I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask.  His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

 Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

 “I’m sorry.  I’m so so sorry.”

 “I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

 “I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

 “Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

 You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

 “I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

 You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing.  His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

 “Look at you...” he grumbled.  “Disgusting.”

 His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression.  His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

 He was going to kill you.  You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less.  But you weren’t ready for it.  You didn’t want to die.

 You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare.  “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

 “Overhaul.”

 “Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me.  I meant no disrespect.”

 “No disrespect?” he sneered.  “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

 His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him.  You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence.  He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.  

 “Clean it up.”

 With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.  

 You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather.  Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame.  His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you.  It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge.  He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

 Not that you’d try to.  You knew better.

 When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.  

 It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life.  But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

 “Where do you think you’re going?”

 “I... I was just...” you stammered.

 “I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

 You swallowed and set down the trashcan.  He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you.  Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head.  You stopped breathing.

 There was something... electric in the air.  You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps.  His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face.  Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely.  Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released.  After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

 Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes.  The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra.  Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier.  You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

 And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

 A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

 Hope.

 Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in.  “Follow me.”

 Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair.  Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

 “Sit.”

 Confusion.

 “W-What??” you stuttered.

 “I said sit.” He replied.

 You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt.  You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you.  His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

 “Continue.” He stated.

 “What? What do you mean?” you asked.

 His eyes stared at you knowingly.  “You didn’t get to cum, did you?”  You shook your head, stunned at his words.  “Continue.” He repeated.

 “Right here?”

 “Where else?  It was good enough for you earlier.”  His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed.  “Continue.”

 Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction.  So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

 With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access.  Chisaki didn’t look down.  Not right away, at least.  Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent.  With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you.  It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening.  You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.  

 Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to.  You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers.  It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened.  Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat.  Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him.  You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel.  You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him.  Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build.  It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat.  But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least.  You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

 With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal.  Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge.  You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat.   Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

 You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths.  Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum.  You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit.  The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

 You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure.  Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

 You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants.  Was he trying to hide it?  Because he was failing.  Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

 “Again.” He ordered.

 Your eyes bulged.  “Again?”

 He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently.  You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight.  He wanted you to do it again?

 At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired.  But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you.  No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing.  It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare.  Do it again and see what happens.

 Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

 Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb.  Except for your clit.  That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core.  With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips.  It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it.  Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki.  Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

 It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length.  You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly.  It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.  

 You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you.  With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith.  You wanted it.  You wanted to cum so badly.  But you wanted to see him even more.  So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts.  You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered.  With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips.  The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

 It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

 You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down.  You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

 It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum.  Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

 You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

 “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.  

 He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

 “Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

 You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes.  Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter.  He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand.  Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him.  You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask.  Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you.  It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

 It was the push your sensitive body needed.  You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first.  Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure.  With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

 You were given no respite.  As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

 “Again.”

 Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity.  You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation.  It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

 Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out.  “B-But... I can’t....”

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly.  He was smirking at you. Cruelly.  

 “You can, and you will.” He said.  A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings.  “Again.” He repeated.

 Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes.  You stared at the exposed skin in awe.  It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed.  Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine.  Maybe… maybe if you were good…

 You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit.  Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily.  Watching him masturbate to you was delicious.  He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light.  You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger?  Maybe both?

 You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand.  The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to.  It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

 But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

 He continued his strokes, slow and easy.  Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him.  His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need.  It was happening... he was going to cum...

 But he never did.  Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

 Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

 Maybe he was waiting for you.  Or maybe he had his own agenda.  But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

 The hypocrite.

 Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted.  But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.  

 It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation.  The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him.  You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

 “Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged.  Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours.  Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

 Chisaki froze mid-stroke.  “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

 “Please,” You begged.  “Don’t you want to?”

 His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before.  After all, what you were asking was no small order.  You knew how he felt about touch.  No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

 But that was why you begged. And pleaded.  And groveled.  Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

 “Please...” you whined one last time.  “I’ll do anything.  I need you, Kai...”

 Something about you using his given name did something.  His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck.  Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat.  You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie.  He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable.  He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence.  Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.  His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

 You waited.

 “Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

 Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you.  Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

 “So fucking filthy.” He breathed.  The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

 He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

 “...And needy.” He added.

 From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch.  But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about.  Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

 “I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself.  His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

 You were pathetic.  But you didn’t care.  You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you.  And if he wanted you to beg?  To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock?  You’d do that too.

 His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning.  A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

 Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first.  So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.”  He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

 You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous.  It made you want to cry.  You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

 But it never came.  And his hand never ventured further.  Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak.  Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words.  “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

 Chisaki tsked.  “You’re afraid.  Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

 His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

 “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

 Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk.  The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

 Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

 “Kai!” you protested.

 He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered.  “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

 The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before.  Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there.  But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade.  Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

 Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

 He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand.  His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

 He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow.  Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between.  And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast.  His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return.  You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft.  The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

 The temptation was too much.  He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust.  Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles.  With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting.  You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore.  You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

 It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls.  His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face.  It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic.  Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore.  But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

 Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth.  Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

 “Shut up.” He growled.

 You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him.  And it didn’t matter to you either.  You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast.  All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint.  That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

 “This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

 His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

 “So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.”  His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

 You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted.  It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock.  Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls.  It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

 The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep.  But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling.  Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up.  Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

 But he never did.  Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock.  You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state.  A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

 But he never did that either.  Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance.  Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes...  His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

 Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth.  It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected.  The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

 Whatever it was, it was short-lived.  He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips.  And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow.  No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

 You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his.  But you were quickly learning you couldn’t.  His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left.  And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?  

 The sun could never be controlled.

 And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

 Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

 “Again.”

[secondhand-trash]

Gojo + 20 plz! Thanks! Can u also make the reader as if she had a bad day that time? Thank you so much!! <3

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 1104

20. When you see people walking past you in the evening, your heart filled with an odd warmth knowing that these people are on the way home to the ones they love

You wondered if you could file a request to claim back the fee for the taxi ride home if you could not leave the office before the last train ride goes out.

You yawned, rubbing your eyes violently to brush away the soreness that had plagued your vision. You were seeing white during the brief moment when you blinked to let them rest from staring at the pale screen for far too long. There were several other of your colleagues scattered around the otherwise empty office, each one looking just as worn out and soulless like you were when their heads poked out of their cubicles.

The needle on the clock was treading closer and closer to the very top, and you sighed as you turned back to the task at hand, knowing very well that you were not leaving this hellish place anytime sooner.

And it wasn’t like you were here because of your own doing. You had finished your own portion of your work just fine, making sure that all tasks that were due soon were sent off to the correct departments for check-up before the supposed deadline. You could not say a word when your manager, who seemed to have a bone to pick with you for no good reason at all even though you had never had an interaction with them where you acted anything but professional, dunked a heavy file onto your desk when it was several minutes until the time you could sign off.

“The head of the department came down with a notice that they had given you the wrong set of data for this report last time,” you blinked when you thought of how long it had taken you to get the report done, “do this again before the deadline.”

The deadline was the following day, and you had handed over the initial report several days before. You could only think of several reasons why they only chose to tell you now that there was an error.

You squeezed your eyes tight before forcing them open again, sighing to yourself at the painful fact that this all was part of your job.

You returned to the life of being a normal person because you thought those that were in charge of that other world you were once a part of were all shitty people, but you forgot that shitty people existed regardless of where you were.

Fumbling for your phone that got thrown to the corner so you could focus, the fatigue that was weighing on you only got worse when you saw the many notifications across the screen.

Good looking guy Satoru💙: I’m bored🥺

Good looking guy Satoru💙: when are you coming homeeeee

Good looking guy Satoru💙: I’m lonely🥲🥲

Good looking guy Satoru💙: I miss you🥲🥲

The colourful emoji next to his name (that he set for himself when he discovered that you set his contacts under his full name and didn’t bother to change it after you started dating) spammed your phone and you scrolled through until it arrived at the end exasperatedly. Oh, what you wouldn’t do to go home now but after looking at the several more documents that you hadn’t gone through that seemed extremely unlikely.

He was online, and he stayed being online even as you didn’t reply. Had he been waiting for you to read his messages? 

You: I don’t think I’ll be back until way later💀no need to wait for me, I’ll take a taxi home

One tick quickly became two until there was a little mark saying ‘read’ next to your message the moment it hit sent. His status changed to ‘typing’ nearly just as quick but you flipped your phone upside down and put it to the side before he finished typing.

You cracked the joints of your fingers and got back to work, aiming to leave as soon as possible.

It was well past midnight when you were finally done and you slammed your drawer shut with a violent force when you could finally put your files away. It was just you now and your groan echoed through the empty room as you stretched your limbs out on your chair. 

You looked up at the ceiling and sighed when you remembered that you would be back at the exact same spot in several hours.

Finally having the time to check your phone again as you packed your stuff to leave, your eyes widened when you see one single text box in the middle of your screen.

Good looking guy Satoru💙: look outside🥰

You stumbled towards the largest window in the room, pressing your nose to the glass when you spot a familiar figure somewhere down below. Your office was several stories off the ground but still, there was no way you would miss the lean figure standing under the nearest lamppost, his white hair looking all the more eye-catching in the dark under the light.

You nearly dashed down the building, pressing the buttons of the elevator impatiently when it didn’t close as quickly as you wanted it to be. The street was silent except for the few cars that dashed by occasionally. You had noticed that people always drove faster when it was nighttime from your observation under many nights of leaving work late. You did not understand why at first, but now you seemed to get them now that you were running towards the person that had been waiting for you all night yourself.

He was tapping mindlessly on his phone when you rushed out of the glass doors, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He looked up and flashed you a smile when he saw you coming close to him, letting the sunglasses fell down from the bridge of his nose as he pretended to pout. 

“You’re so late,” Gojo whined, pulling you to his side with one arm swung across your shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not even bothering to hide how delightfully surprised you were to see him.

“Pick you up from work,” he said in a sing-song voice, bending down until his face was right in front of yours, “thoughtful, right? Do I get a reward?”

He had his lips jutted out and the end of his sentence going up to a higher note than his usual voice, and you knew he was trying to make you laugh by playing up his antics.

He broke into a wide grin when you gave a quick peck to his cheek, seemingly  satisfied with your reply.

“Yeah. yeah,” you wrapped your arms around his waist, “let’s go home.”

[viperbarnes]

The Tie That Binds – [Three of Eight]

[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]

Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.

You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.

But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.

Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.

Note: This is entirely un-beta’d so all mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading!

<- Prev / Next ->

You’ve just stepped out of the grocery store when you’re half-barrelled into by something big and solid. Instead of falling, like you expect, when the moment passes, you realise not only are you standing upright, but that your arms have been relieved of the two heavy paper bags you’d previously held.

It takes you second to fully process the situation, but when you do, you find yourself blinking up at the smug face of Bucky Barnes, your load now tucked easily under his arm, looking a whole lot smaller than when you’d struggled to pick them up.

“Wha– I thought you were away?!” You let yourself gasp in belated surprise, resting a hand over your heart momentarily. He wears sunglasses, which you find odd considering it wasn’t exactly bright out, but you’re still a little too taken aback by his sudden appearance to really make note of it.

“And miss our shopping trip?” He asks, voice filled with mock horror.

“You can’t shake me off that easy. I stick.” The smugness melts from his features, replaced by something softer as you shake your head at him, beginning to walk.

Almost a whole month and a half of these regular, strange meetings, and the two of you had fallen into something that felt a lot like friendship, but crucially, wasn’t quite. Usually he’d help you with your groceries, sometimes you’d corner him at a cafe and seemingly quiz him on aspects of HYDRA and your capture. It was… comfortable, and you hated to admit it, but you’d sorely missed actual human interaction.

Bucky moves to walk beside you on the footpath, and you eye him. You understand why he wears sunglasses now, at this angle you could clearly see the large purple and black bruise around the ring of his eye, and when you take a closer, less subtle look at his clothing, you realise he’d simply thrown on his heavy winter coat over top of what looked like a blue motorcycle jacket.

“You know I would have been just fine if you had somewhere else to be…” You venture, shifting your eyes away from him as you speak. Bucky glances down at you, and then at his attire.

“Just got back.” He says shortly, though you’ve come to know that was just his way sometimes.

“Most people might go take a shower… get some sleep… not go help some lady with her shopping.” You muse.

The slight smugness returns to his face and his gait and he swings his head to look down at you with a corny grin, only added to by the shades.

“Most people aren’t me.” He tells you cockily, leaning down slightly to emphasise this. He leans back again moments later, as if considering you, and you squirm a little under his gaze.

“Besides, I think you like having someone do the heavy liftin’.” It’s still part of his act, something halfway between a shadow of himself from a different time, and a romance lead perhaps.

You noticed he fell back on humour, on sarcasm or this faux personality whenever he felt like his true response wouldn’t be acceptable. Maybe most people wouldn’t notice the shifts so clearly, but you do. You did the same thing any time you had to interact with another human being.

Still, the way it makes butterflies appear in your chest sends you off kilter every time, not just because it was him, but because it had been a solid amount of time since anybody spoke to you or flirted with you like you were a halfway decent option. Especially someone who looked like Bucky.

You weren’t blind, you’d recognised his objective attractiveness long ago, somewhere in a dimly lit room, where tracing his jawline was a distraction from whatever else.

But it was different now. He wasn’t just the tragically beautiful assassin you were forced to work on, he was… Bucky.

An almost friend.

Bucky.

You scoff at his display, and at any fleeting notion that he’d even really look at you twice, and shake your head.

“I can’t say it doesn’t help on the days my hands shake too much… Lost one too many cartons of eggs to that.” You chortle at your own past predicament.

You miss the way Bucky’s smile falters, and his shoulders drop, and he forces himself to look away from you for several seconds.

“Where were you, anyway?” You ask, changing the subject as you come to a set of lights. Bucky shifts your groceries to his other arm and cocks his head at you.

“I’m pretty sure our deal was that I answer questions about what I used to do. Didn’t think my current shenanigans were on the table…?” You see an eyebrow rise above the lens of the glasses, and roll your eyes.

“Fine. I didn’t want to hear about your sidekick stuff anyway.” You turn away from him slightly only for him to step into your view again.

“Sidekick? You call me a sidekick?” Bucky sounds almost genuinely offended, and you scoff, leaving him trailing behind you when the walking light turns green and you make for the other side of the street.

“Please, you’re basically a professional sidekick.” You can’t keep the grin from your lips now as Bucky hurries to catch up with you, his brow now in a deep set frown.

“That’s unkind. That’s hurtful.” He tells you, truly, honestly pouting.

“I’ll have you know my sidekick stuff is extremely interesting.” He continues, sticking his nose up a little now. You shrug.

“Probably, but you didn’t wanna tell me about it so…” You spin to face him as you speak, stopping on your apartment buildings stoop.

Bucky still pouts as you blindly buzz yourself in, taking towards the stairs right away. Bucky follows, and you realise a little too late that he never usually came inside with you. He’d usually hand over your things at the door. Truthfully, as dismissive as you were being, you were actually rather glad he’d shown up, and you weren’t quite ready yet to part ways.

The rest of the climb to your floor is filled with Bucky huffing about how cool his job was, and you internally wondering if it was too weird to invite him inside. Your fear of the man had all but evaporated, despite the frequent dreams you’d been having, but you wonder if letting him into your home would change that.

Your apartment was your sanctuary. You had escape routes mapped just in case, you’d organised your things so that there was always some kind of makeshift weapon available to you in every room… considering these plans were made with his last break-in in mind, you’re not sure how your subconscious might react to having him physically within your space again.

You act as natural as possible, and when you do reach your door, you force yourself to steady your hand as you unlock it. Bucky had stopped even his playful whining, and you know he isn’t ignorant to the current situation.

Stepping inside, you hold your door open with your hip and casually jerk your head in the direction of your kitchen.

“That can just go on the counter.” You say, cursing the slight shake in your words. You continue ahead of him quickly, even as you hear your door close shut behind you, depositing your purse and coat on the sofa.

Bucky does as you say, and you turn in time to see him step back from the countertop, his eyes darting around the space quickly.

A different kind of anxiety rolls over you then, and you regret having not tidied up a little before inviting him inside.

“It’s a little messy…” You apologise, sweeping some dust from the nearest surface and scrunching your nose. Bucky blinks at you and frowns, opening his mouth, but you accidentally cut him off as another thought hits you.

“And I’m sorry about the cold… The window keeps breaking.” You gesture to the main window in your living space, rolling your eyes a little.

Bucky’s face morphs into a frown as he looks past you to the window in question, a plastic bag duct taped over a portion.

“Your windows broken?” He asks, concern filling his voice.

“It keeps happening. My landlord employs the cheapest handyman in the city, I swear to god…” You roll your eyes again and try to brush it off with a laugh, but Bucky’s face doesn’t change, even as he looks back to you.

“It’s the middle of winter.” He states, and then before you can reply, he straightens, his frown of displeasure shifting into one of determination.

“I’ll fix it.”

---

Bucky replays the clips on his phone one last time, making sure he properly understood the instruction, before he moves to copy it.

A short trip to the hardware store later, he’s back in your apartment, sat awkwardly on your windowpane as he finishes up replacing the lower piece of glass. He’d made sure the piece he’d bought was hardy, and unlikely to cause you future problems. He can’t imagine how cold it would have gotten in your place with a broken window, and tries not to scowl.

You linger nearby, having put your groceries away and offered him coffee, you now sit on your couch pretending that you weren’t watching him.

He doesn’t blame you for eyeing him just as nervously as you had on his first few visits with you. Seeing each other out and about was one thing, but he doesn’t underestimate the amount of trust you were showing in allowing him into your home. Hell, he doesn’t even think he’d be extending such liberties if he were you.

But he’s glad for it, if not only for selfish reasons.

It was easy for Bucky to pretend he didn’t know your status to one another. He’d ignored the little black mark long enough, ignored the urge to seek you out (before he knew you were you) so it really wasn’t that different for him. The only problem, and it wasn’t really a problem just yet, was that Bucky liked you.

He liked your jokes and your sass, he liked the way your expressions spoke louder than your words ever could, and how you didn’t even seem to realise you were making them half the time. He liked that you always seemed to have something interesting to add to a conversation, even on topics he wouldn’t have thought had much interest.

You were smart, and funny and cynical in all the same ways as him, and Bucky liked spending time with you. If he didn’t think it would make you uncomfortable, he’d hang around you a lot more.

Being friends with you was easy, in the same way that being friends with Sam was easy. He didn’t have to hold back certain information, or pretend he was something he wasn’t. You knew everything already, and for some reason, had decided you were okay with him sticking around.

“Do you think you’re going to find your soulmate?”

The question nearly makes him jump, as if you’d been looking right into his thoughts.

Bucky stops what he’s doing briefly and looks up at you. Your lips are pursed and your eyes move from his exposed wrist to his face. He coaches his face into what he might consider normal if the situation were different, and hums.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He clears his throat, and watches you shift your position on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you.

“I don’t know. It’s not really something I have to consider, so I guess I was just thinking about our situations… How it would feel.” You frown as you speak, and Bucky already knows you’re unsatisfied with how you’d answered. He stops completely and faces you, giving you his full attention.

“What do you mean?” He prompts. You think for a moment.

“I guess I just don’t know if I would.” You state, still frowning, though this time for an entirely different reason. Bucky feels something in his chest tighten.

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly the most normal person in the world… and I know your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect half, but there’s still choice involved, right? Not everyone chooses to be with their soulmate in the end…” Your eyes turn down to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers nervously.

“I’m just not sure they’d want me.”

Bucky’s stomach drops at your confession, something an awful lot like hurt shooting through him.

He wants to hurry and reassure you that you were wrong, that you didn’t have to worry, but he stops himself.

He reminds himself that your fears were his own, only he knew for a fact the answer.

“I don’t think you should spend your time worrying about that.” He says carefully. You stop fidgeting and look up at him. He swallows thickly.

“Your soulmate will want you, regardless of if you’re the most normal person in the world or not. And if they’re worried about your past, or the way it affects you now, then they probably don’t deserve you anyway.”

Bucky shrugs, and tears his eyes from yours to continue in his task, but stays fully aware that your gaze remains trained on him.

“If you found them, I’m sure they would want you.” He adds, almost anxiously, his mind buzzing with a million thoughts.

From the couch, you let out a short laugh, the tension in the room lifting a little. He spares a glance at you, unable to to stop the smile that creeps onto his face at the sight of your own.

“What?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Just never took the Winter Soldier for a romantic.” You tease, making him roll his eyes.

Bucky puts the last touches on your new and improved window and takes a step back.

“Would it shock you to learn HYDRA didn’t count it as a useful skill?”

If you like and enjoy, a comment or a reblog would be greatly appreciated!

[shania-twain]

au. the met.

She caught his eye from across the way. He was leaning against a column, looking at her curiously.

Used to men staring at her, she quirked a brow at him and he shook his head slightly, looking away. His cheeks were pink from embarrassment. She found that a little endearing. Usually men didn't give a shit if they were caught ogling her.

Amanda is enthusiastically greeted by her friend Lara with a kiss on the cheek and a friendly hug. Over Lara's shoulder, she spots the tall man again. He's turned slightly and she takes the opportunity to study his side profile, her interest piqued. A quick glance to his hands to check for a wedding ring and she's excited to find it bare. His hair is gray, but she likes the silver fox look. Face clean shaven, body lean and a lopsided, closed mouth smile.

"How are you liking the gallery so far? Isn't it neat?" Lara interrupted her thoughts and Amanda tried to focus on her friend. "Find any pieces you like?"

"I like most of 'em," she answered with a small shrug. Her first time at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City was uneventful, as she wasn't the biggest fan of art pieces. Though she chalked it up to never having been to a real museum like this and her parent's lack of interest in taking her and her sister anywhere cultured.

Her friend Lara dragged her here with a promise to return her to her hometown in Georgia "a sophisticated lady." She had scoffed at that, but agreed to go, glad to have a reason to dress up nicely.

With it being her last night in New York, she wanted to have a nice dinner and then maybe a bar afterwards with a group of her friends from college. They had been at the museum for nearly an hour and she was ready to go. She could use a drink after another full day of activity. She was really dreading the flight home tomorrow.

"Hey," Lara told her, taking her out of her thoughts. Her friend probably sensed her discomfort by the way she had her arms crossed, but really she was just chilly. "Let's go say goodbye to Steven and then we can get an early dinner. Sound good?"

Amanda nodded, smiling pleasantly as Lara began to lead her over to a friend of hers she had been introduced to earlier. Catching the gaze of the stranger again, she watched him curiously this time. He doesn't look away, even goes so far as to send her a small, friendly grin, dimples in his cheeks. She thought he was damn adorable.

She briefly wished she was alone so she could approach him without ditching her friend.

She watched him try and smoothly break their gaze by pretending to be interested in a painting nearby. She let out a laugh as he placed his large hand on his chin, feigning contemplation on the artwork. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, seeing her smile flirtatiously at him. He swore his heart jumped at the sight.

She was beautiful. Sexy in every way. Her long legs were accentuated by red heels. She wore a white dress that complimented her figure and hugged her curves. His eyes didn't miss the plunging neckline either. Her hair was golden, styled on her head and flowing in waves down her back. She was elegant, classy, and had a smile as bright as the sun.

Noticing that she seemed to be leaving with a girl friend, he felt himself moving toward the exit. He hoped to have some sort of interaction with her, somehow.

He found her outside the museum, shivering, her friend nowhere to be found. Taking a deep breath, he casually walked up to her.

"Hi," he said, trying not to sound too eager. He was shoulder to shoulder to her, though she was a tad bit shorter than him in the heels.

She glanced up at him, a surprised look on her face. He felt his own face flush at the delighted smile on her lips. She detected an accent from him, a smidge different from the regular New York one she had been hearing for days. "Hi," she said.

She had a deep southern accent. It may have been the first time he ever thought it was adorable. He may already be a little biased, though.

"Did you friend ditch you?" He looked around and didn't find the other woman she had been with.

"Nah, she's still inside," she said, gesturing behind her to the building. "Ran into someone. I told her I'd wait out here."

He smirked at her slightly bouncing in place, clearly freezing. "Ya regrettin' that?"

"I'm fine," Amanda defended, rocking on her heels now.

Sonny found himself taking off his jacket and offering it to her. She raised both eyebrows so high, he almost laughed.

"Thanks, but you're a stranger."

He held the jacket over one arm, holding out his hand to her. "I'm Dominick, nice to meet you."

When she took his hand and shook it, she shivered for a different reason. His hold was light, hand warm, his eyes gentle and soft on hers. "Amanda."

Letting go of her hand, he offered his jacket again with a dimpled grin. "Now we're not strangers. Take it while you wait, it's fine."

She still looked doubtful but she did grab it. She was shivering in front of this handsome man and it was embarrassing. "I didn't know it could be so cold in April." As she slipped the large jacket over her shoulders, she gave him a look. "Sure you're not a serial killer?"

At his nod, she left the jacket on, eyeing his professional suit underneath. His blue tie had polka dots on it and she got the sense that he wasn't like the guys she was usually attracted to. "I'm a criminal prosecutor."

Impressed, she lifted a brow again. "So you've been in the room with serial killers?"

He laughed and she found herself mesmerized with the sight of his eyes crinkling. "Not very much, I usually prosecute sex crimes."

"Oh, wow," she said in surprise, "that's gotta be a damn hard job."

"It is," he said honestly. "What do you do?"

She tugged his jacket closer to her, smelling the cologne inside of it. "I'm a social worker. I help kids in difficult domestic situations at home. Among other things."

Her eyes held something dark in them, he noticed, as she told him this information and he thought maybe she could find the same darkness in his. She stepped closer to him, excusing it for the body heat and not the way he smelled and the way he looked at her. Like she was something more. As if she could offer something more than just a body.

"That's incredible," he smiled, "you must be a hero to those kids."

She shook her head humbly. "They're amazing kids. It's wonderful to see kids in awful situations thrive despite the odds against them."

Amanda couldn't believe she was opening up in any way to this man. A stranger, no less. But she figured he could understand, as he's probably seen troublesome things in his own line of work.

"Anyway," she tried to lighten the subject, "back home people don't believe in these kids enough. I want to help them as much as I can."

Smiling softly at her, he asked, "where's home?"

"Georgia," she answered, waving her hand, "small town."

"Amanda!" A voice called out and she turned to see Lara waving at her from the entrance, the person she had been talking to still at her side. Amanda waved back and turned her attention back to Dominick.

"I think she wants me over there," she told him. She started sliding the jacket off but he stopped her.

"Keep it," he said, "I have plenty, trust me."

"Oh, no, I'll be fine," she reassured. He was about to tell her again not to worry about it when her friend walked up.

"Hey," Lara said, looking him up and down. "Who's this?"

"Lara, this is Dominick," Amanda introduced, "we kinda just met."

"Oh," Lara blinked, then when she realized Amanda was wearing the man's jacket, the woman's eyes widened. "Oh!"

"Yeah," Amanda deadpanned, slightly amused. Lara caught the hint Amanda was giving with her eyes and gestured back to her friend. "I'm gonna - forgot to tell them something."

Dominick watched her friend walk away, also amused. He didn't catch Amanda taking something out of her red wallet.

"Hey, so," Amanda said, capturing his attention again. Her eyes were gorgeous. Light, bright pools of blue he could drown in. "I'm actually leaving for Georgia tomorrow."

Ah, damn.

He couldn't even pretend to hide his disappointment. He really thought he might have had a chance with her. Or at least even one date.

"But," she said, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling at his obvious disappointment. "I'll be coming back for a visit pretty soon. Maybe you can show me around?"

Grinning widely at her, Dominick enthusiastically agreed. Amanda could feel butterflies swarm inside her at his excitement. She had never encountered a man quite like him before.

"Amanda, you ready?" Lara called again, from a distance, this time alone. Amanda sighed as she had to part with him, wanting to know more about him but she had made plans already with others.

"It was great meetin' you," she told him in her charming accent.

"Yeah," he stumbled over his words, not quite ready to let her go yet. But he knew he had to. "Yeah, definitely."

She smiled brightly again, taking his jacket off and handing it to him. He took it numbly. "Call me." He watched her walk away, hips swaying, heels clacking against the pavement as her and a friend got into a cab further down the street.

It wasn't until she was out of his sight that he realized he didn't have her number. Cursing to himself, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Why didn't he get her last name? Why?

How many Amanda's in Georgia could there be?

Grumbling, completely irritated, and feeling like a moron, he put his jacket back on. He harshly shoved his hands in his pockets when he felt something in his left pocket. Taking it out, he noticed with extreme delight it was a business card.

Amanda Rollins - Social worker. With a phone number at the bottom.

He smiled.