#now to be the chess master 😈

[thisghosts-obsessions-again]

YEEES!

[waynes-multiverse]

Mercilessly

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Once upon a time, there was a heroic, green-eyed hunter, but now, not much of him and his emerald eyes are left after he made a grave mistake and broke the wrong girl’s heart, leaving her empty behind. Y/N, however, is dressed for revenge and ready to take back what once belonged to her...

Warnings: +18!, language, smut (fingering, p in v, dirty talk & slight degrading), canon-level violence, a lot of evil scheming & some dark fluff

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: First time I’m daring to write Demon!Dean. This has been on my writer’s wish list for goddamn ages. Written for my wonderful bestie’s @avanatural‘s 1,000 followers celebration & antagonist challenge. 😈 You and your stories completely amaze me, so here’s to 1,000 more! Collect ‘em like Pokemon, babe! The crown truly belongs to you! 🥳🥂🖤 My prompts were Billie Eilish’s You Should See Me In A Crown 👑 and a quote, which you’ll find in bold. I also based parts of it on The Bravery’s Hatefuck 🔥 because it certainly is a fitting song for Demon!Dean. Enjoy, my loves!

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

High noon. The bar was virtually deserted, tranquil, and almost peaceful, cradling every new arrival in a false sense of security if they weren’t smart enough and came equipped with a sixth sense for peril. After all, some dangers lurked in bright daylight and weren’t as easily identified by the naked eye.

Luckily, Y/N was smarter than most and knew exactly what kind of threat was waiting for her there as her black heels on fiery red soles stormed through the doors of the rundown tavern. The remaining guests of the establishment consisted of drunkard patrons lingering around dirty tables and halfway falling asleep in front of their glasses. Her determined and vibrant eyes, however, immediately landed on a tuft of sandy-blond and disheveled locks.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A beautiful, flesh-eating flower. A blazing hot mess. Dean fucking Winchester.

Y/N was a big girl, though. She knew better than to get lost in something shiny, the glitter and glamour, the cheap thrill. Fuck diamonds. They were just a marketing scheme, and she already fell for good packaging once in her life and got severely burned like a child touching the hot plate of a stove. And while the cold emptiness in her chest prevented her from feeling anything, not even a tingle, her heart still pounded a few beats faster once her eyes caught sight of the main prize.

Her mind flooded with memories, vivid images of a life she once possessed. The endless movie nights, the laughs and talks, the tears and touches, the love that was lost. Lost because of him and his selfishness. And while none of it mattered anymore, she swore a long time ago, she wouldn’t let him get away with it. No, he still had to pay for what he did, suffer the same fate she had. She was deadly set on making her vision a reality. 

So, you could say Y/N came prepared, came with a plan. After all, the perfect revenge wasn’t something you could whip up in an hour and implement haphazardly. It took years – years of executing moves, forming questionable relationships, and conducting the most boring research in dusty libraries and tombs. Y/N was absolutely playing the long game, a strategy that’d certainly make every grand master of chess blush.

Of course, the asshole of all assholes didn’t even reward her with a meek glance over his broad shoulder, the bang of a door apparently not thrilling enough for him to spin around. The clicking of high heels on sticky floorboards as she stalked closer to the bar counter, however, seemed to do the trick, her target intrigued enough to finally face her.

The promise of a willing woman, of his next potential prey, naturally forced a predatory smirk onto his plush and sinful lips. A smile, which dropped quite abruptly once her former lover realized who truly stood before his acid green eyes. Oh, she was definitely not the corruptible angel he’d hoped for in his wettest dreams. And while he might be anything but human these days, the shock was big enough to let the black-eyed mask slip, and for a moment, she was reminded of the person he used to be. The good, kind, and selfless hero, full of shame, guilt, and regrets.

God, she hated that fucking guy.

“Remember me, Winchester?” A smirk played across her lips when his instinctive first answer was a light swallow, still subtle enough to pretend he didn’t care. The longer he stared at her, the more it became a scathing glare until the shock had subsided enough, and his defined jaw began to clench under the rough layer of scruff.

“Y/N.” Her name rolled off his wicked lips and nearly caused her to sink to her knees in front of him. It had been too long since he’d last said it, and she almost forgot the sound of it, the deep, shuddering timbre of his voice. The strength it took for him to utter her name in the first place was hidden behind a stoic exterior, however. He’d never thought he’d say it again, either, and it showed. “What the hell are you fucking doing here?”

Her head tilted like a lost puppy’s, brow puckering as her gaze innocently drifted to Crowley next to him, who’d been suspiciously quiet this whole time. “Aw, you didn’t tell him?”

Y/N wasn’t in the least bit surprised that A, the demon tried to cross her, and B, tried to make a run for it with his new bestie. It was what demons, especially Crowley, did best, after all. They couldn’t be trusted. And although she warned the scumbag several times, she naturally expected her peasant’s next move. No one beat the queen of chess.

“Tell me what?” Dean gritted through his pearly white teeth, his glare quickly swerving to his new partner in crime, who swallowed the enormous and craven lump in his throat.

“Crowley, Crowley, Crowley…,” Y/N tsked and casually crossed her arms. “You know, I’ve waited.” She took a step closer to the demon king, the flames in her eyes speaking volumes. “I bid my time. I paid my dues. Don’t you think I deserve credit?”

“Of course, of course,” Crowley scrambled for words, the coward in him ducking so much that even a woman of her small stature practically towered over him. “I couldn’t have done it without your extraordinary genius, my dear.”

“What the fuck is she talking about?” Dean’s patience had dried up like a raisin as he demanded an answer, swiftly pulling out the First Blade. He forcefully slammed it into the wooden countertop of the bar, piercing straight through Crowley’s palm and pinning the demon in place before the slippery bastard could pull a Houdini act on him again.  

“Ow! Bloody–!” Crowley hissed in pain and anger at the former hunter, who, in return, smirked quite complacently at the achievement.

“Tell him,” Y/N prompted with an unsympathetic look toward the demon in agony. “Tell him who found Cain in the first place and came up with the idea. Tell him who told you what the mark would do to him. Tell him you truly did nothing because you’re worth nothing. Tell him who made him into what he is. Tell him who cursed him.”

“You did,” Crowley croaked out while his hand soaked the countertop and painted it crimson red. “And may I add, your Majesty looks incredibly pretty today.”

With a scoff, Y/N rolled her eyes at the demon’s obvious attempt of flattery before she snapped her fingers and painfully forced his meat suit to his knees, his palm still nailed to the bar top as he let out a loud scream. She smirked when she noted Dean’s look of surprise at her little trick show. She certainly had leveled up since the last time he’d seen her. It scratched the little tingle in her belly.

“Yeah? If you think I’m pretty, you should see me in a crown. Don’t make me come for your job, too. Let’s face it, Crowley – you’d make a better servant than a king. Cross me again, and I’ll end you, demon scum,” she threatened, her jaw tightening and nostrils flaring. “Did you pathetic weasel really think I wouldn’t find you, slurping chick drinks in some dive bar no less? Do I really need to wear a warning sign next time I make a deal with you? You were supposed to deliver him on a silver platter for me. Did you really think I wouldn’t hunt you down?”

When the reigning king submissively ducked his head and swallowed like a beaten dog, her lips curled into a satisfied smirk. Cheerily, she leaned over the hunter’s lap and the mahogany counter, her hands going through several liquor bottles till she found one to her liking. She purposely stuck her butt out, wiggling and swaying it in front of the former hunter, still remembering a few preferences from the good ol’ days. It didn’t take long before she felt Dean’s long, thick fingers crawl down her spine and smooth over the leather-clad globes of her ass.

“Wanna take this somewhere more quiet, princess?”

Y/N gleefully hugged the chosen bottle of bourbon and pressed the cool, amber glass to her tits, nodding quite eagerly before placing a contrastingly soft kiss on his cheek. “One step ahead of you, my love. It’s time to celebrate!”

As Dean closed the door behind them, he watched as Y/N stalked through the motel room he’d called his home for the past months, curious Y/E/C eyes observing the remnants of his meaningless existence. It had been two years since he’d last seen her, since he kicked her out of the bunker and broke his own useless heart with it. She still looked the same. Stunning and breathtaking like the day he’d met her and bitter, cold, and angry like the day he’d lost her.

“You might’ve acquired those pretty new eyes, but your preferences are still the same, Winchester,” she teased, spinning to him with a grin that reached her ears. “Still picking the shady dive bars and gross motels over the five-star hotels. What’s wrong with a little luxury and a comfortable mattress, huh?”

Dean only rolled his juniper eyes, not in the mood for chit-chat or amusing banter, and prompted, “Why did you do this? Apparently, I owe those pretty new eyes to you.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t play dumb,” Y/N huffed, annoyed with his act of innocence. “You know why I’m here. Contrary to popular belief, you’ve never been stupid, Dean.” A smirk spread across her face and lit up her dimples as she swayed closer. Her index finger hooked into the waistband of his jeans, pulling him flush against her small body, pointed teeth denting her bottom lip. “You’ve never been-,” her hungry gaze wandered down, palming the growing erection behind the denim, “-disappointing, either. At least not in that regard. You know, I fell for these eyes once before, and they’re even prettier now...”

Her teeth sunk into his pulse point as she left her first mark there, the tip of her tongue licking the salt from his skin. His hands didn’t deny themselves the pleasure of roaming her frame, her perfect curves, and her taut skin either, before one hand found rest on her exquisitely rounded ass, her cheek a perfect fit for his large palm as he cupped and groped it, pushing her against his bulging crotch that achingly pressed against the tight fabric of his jeans and begged for release and a warm, wet hole to fill.

While he hadn’t come to a clear decision about her yet, he knew he could postpone any thinking for later. After all, he did whatever the fuck he wanted, no consequences, and right now, he wanted to shove his cock inside her tight cunt and fuck her like there was no tomorrow. Albeit feelings and past attachments didn’t really play a role for him, he still remembered enough of their time together to know she’d always been a good fuck and certainly the best time. The things she’d do for him, say for him, and let him do, had always been wicked, way before his heart was corrupted, and Dean was all about celebrating the good times these days.

Craving the feeling of a blissful high, his mind flooded with images of the bruises and bites he’d left behind on her skin in the past and filled with thoughts of how much he’d missed her taste and smell. He certainly wouldn’t turn down her irresistible offer. So, throwing his resolve out the window, his mouth roughly claimed hers, tongue slipping inside, teeth biting flesh until it drew sweet, scarlet nectar.

His wet lips trailed along her jawline and down to her delicate neck as she became soft and bendable in his hold. “How did you do that to Crowley?” His question reverberated against her throat before he drew and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Last time I checked, you were soulless, not magic, princess.”

He at least had to ensure she couldn’t butcher him before he had a chance to do the same. It didn’t help, though, that their little stand-off was part of the turn-on. Who’d snap first? After all, they’d both been hunters once and knew the game all too well.

Amused, his former lover chuckled with a devilish twinkle in her gorgeous eyes that lit up her entire face. “God, don’t you just love it when they scream? It’s the best sound after cutting someone’s tongue out.”

Dean’s hands then wrapped around her throat, pushing her back into the next wall as he pinned her there and fixed her with a deathly glare, feeling her swallow harshly in his grip. He squeezed a little harder, his jaw tightening with his hold on her. A smirk played across his lips, practically smelling her arousal trickle into her panties.

Dean then pulled the blade from his back and thrust it into the papered wall dangerously close to her head, even drawing a little blood from the tip of her ear. He knew she was smart enough to understand it as a warning. Collecting a scarlet drop on his thumb, he licked his pad and relished in the metallic taste on his tongue.

“You better start answering some questions before I do what I shoulda done a long time ago, sweetheart,” he growled, his nose running along hers as she inhaled his scent like life-supplying oxygen.

But Y/N only smiled mysteriously, puckishly shrugging her shoulders. “Things change. Learned a thing or two after you exiled me. Made some friends in high places.”

“So, what? You did all this for revenge? Little pathetic, don’t you think? All over a good lay…,” he taunted her and scoffed.

Her greedy hands clasped his cheeks, sharp nails piercing his skin as she dragged him back to her addicting lips. “No, baby, I did all this for you, for me, for us. Don’t you see? After everything that happened, after what you’ve done to me… you can finally make it right. I know that’s what you wanted the most, even now with that little curse on your arm. And now, we’re the same without all those icky feelings getting in our way. We can just fuck and make the world ours. One by one.”

“There’s no more us, sweetheart,” Dean bit, flashing her a set of onyx orbs.

“Cute. There’s always an us,” she replied like his answer didn’t even matter to her, leaving no room for further discussions. “Do you still feel guilty about it, hm? You were so, so selfish. At least now, you’re honest about it and not hiding behind feigned heroics anymore.”

“Old me felt guilty, yeah,” he admitted and let out a dark chuckle. “But that’s kinda one of the perks of the new me. Now, I just think those people we used to be were pathetic and weak... I was weak. I sent you away when I shoulda just fucking killed you.”

“Or maybe you should’ve just let me die the way I was supposed to in the first place,” Y/N gritted bitterly. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been so fucking self-serving and let me go. But you couldn’t do that, could you? You had to save me because that was what the great hero Dean Winchester did, right? But the other thing you did so well was fucking things up, and boy, did you fuck this up, didn’t you?” she mocked and smirked when his look darkened and his upper lip twitched in shameful admittance, teeth grinding down. “Do you like my plan so far? You know, not having a soul is almost like already being dead. No dreams, no future... There’s nothing alive inside of me. Might as well sleep in a damn coffin. And because you showed me no mercy, I made sure I showed you none either, my sweet baby boy.”

It was true. It was all his fault she had lost goddamn everything. Her love, her family, her home. As weak as he was, Dean couldn’t let her go when she got hurt during a run-of-the-mill hunt. He brought her back to life, a spell that chipped away her soul till there was nothing left of it. And still, as foolishly smitten and in love as he was, he thought he could goddamn fix it, fix her, fix them. But there was nothing left for him to love and nothing that was capable of loving him back. Yet, he still didn’t have the guts to kill her in the bitter end.

“Want me to correct my past mistake, huh? Is that why you’re fucking here? ‘Cause I’d be happy to do just that,” he growled warningly into her ear as he leaned closer, hearing how her heart rate accelerated as his hot breath fanned against her delicate neck.

“You might be a demon, but I know you still don’t have the fucking heart to kill me,” she giggled in amusement and placed her palm on his chest where the miserable muscle pounded underneath. “Who’s pathetic now, huh?”

“Don’t fucking test me, Y/N. It won’t end well for you, honey,” he threatened, far from admitting that she’d seen right through him and called his bluff. “But then, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been a slut for me.”

While Y/N’s little plan, apparently forged in hellfire itself, certainly made them more alike, the difference between them was that he still had a soul. His was just blackened, clouded by darkness, and disfigured over time by an abundance of pain and anger and, well, one little curse. Hers, on the other hand, wasn’t there at all. She was just an empty vessel, no feelings and emotions inside.

Old him couldn’t trust her; new him didn’t care, though. The new and improved version of him even recognized her worth. Y/N had always been cunningly smart, certainly smarter than him and even smarter than Sam. Dean could recall memories of vivid discussions with Bobby, the two of them rattling off weird trivia facts almost to a competitive degree.

Dean needed her. He could use her to his advantage. She was valuable.

Plus, Crowley had started to become annoying fairly quickly. The only reason the former hunter hadn’t stabbed the demon’s meat suit yet was that Dean really didn’t want to take over the duties of kingship. He could care less about Hell. All he wanted was to fuck around, drink excessively, and do a little karaoke.

Y/N, on the other hand, would make a good queen. Smart, driven, just. She’d make fair decisions and reign with an iron fist and a fucking brain. In fact, Dean thought she’d make an excellent ruler of Hell even. She was right from the start: This was what he’d wanted since the day she left him – a way to have her back in his life, didn’t matter if the plan was perfect, good, or straight-up evil. Being a demon, freed from all the chains of humanity, was the best fucking thing that ever happened to him – and he owed it all to her.

“Yeah?” She provokingly nudged his nose as her hand slid under his waistband and inside his boxer briefs, her palm rubbing along his throbbingly hard dick, causing him to growl lowly. “Show me, baby. Show me what a bad guy you can be,” she purred and tore into his plump bottom lip before letting it pop back in its place. “Show me how much you used to love me, how much I meant to you. Show me by fucking me like you hate me now... I wanna be your favorite toy again. Play with me, baby. Love me mercilessly.”

Effortlessly, he twirled her in his hold, pressing her tits against the wall. With one motion, he roughly pried the tight leather leggings over her asscheeks, his hand slipping to her front and cupping her bare and leaking pussy, her arousal trickling onto his finger pads.

“So fucking wet, hm? Did my slut miss me this badly, huh? You missed this cock, baby girl?” he breathed against the nape of her neck and inhaled her intoxicating scent once more before his teeth tore into her smooth flesh, making her cry out. His dick twitched in delight when her moans filled his ears as his digits rubbed at her clit and set the sensitive nerve endings on fire, her nails clawing away at the grimy motel room wall.

One hand then gripped her upper arm tightly and pinned her writhing body in place, his broad chest pressing against her back as his mouth marked her shoulders and spine.

“Cum once now, and I’ll fuck you into the next life, my little plaything,” he husked challengingly into her ear, and just as he thrust his first thick digit inside her waiting, hot center, she came undone and trembled in his hold.

That was one.

Kissing the salty drops from the slope of her neck, his chuckles vibrated against her heated skin. “Still a good girl after all this time. Impressive. You were almost fucking polite. Some things really don’t change, huh?”

Breathlessly, Y/N spun around to face him, the swell of her breasts that spilled out of the revealing top heaving with each erratic intake of air. She grinned crookedly up at him and locked her fingers behind his neck. “Well, haven’t you heard? All the good girls go to Hell. And I believe you promised me something,” she sang like the prettiest, most innocent damsel.

“Don’t be a brat, baby girl. Impatience is a vice,” Dean reminded her, eyes as dark as midnight while his thumb traced her kiss-swollen lips before stuffing his wet fingers into her mouth. Hungrily, he watched her suck them clean as she tasted the mess she’d made, the tip of her tongue provoking his pads and desiring something with more girth.

“Thought we were all about those vices now, my love,” she giggled darkly and kissed his open palm on her cheek before chasing his lips in a drunk delirium, clashing with pointed teeth and tongue.

His hand traveled to the back to cup her head, fingers weaving into her hair and tugging a fistful. Her knees were becoming wobbly, bending and giving in slightly, pulled down by his gravity on her planet, an instant reflex that only came from years of orbiting around each other.

“I want you so badly, De,” she breathed needily against his lips and caressed his cheek with a gentle touch, almost treating him as breakable, whispering, “I might not be able to love you anymore, but I still remember what it felt like, you know? It was so… pure.”

A smile graced his lips, one corner of his mouth rising higher than the other. “Yeah, I know what you mean, sweetheart.”

“You don’t have to worry anymore, baby. I’ll take care of you again. I’ll turn us into something great, amazing even,” Y/N vowed pantingly, the excitement sparkling in her eyes before she desperately claimed his pillowy lips like an addict chasing their next high.

Swiftly, the zipper of his jeans opened, the denim and cotton boxers pooling around his ankles before he gripped his rock-hard cock. Y/N rid herself of her leggings, her hand wrapping around the grip of the First Blade, still firmly stuck in the blood-stained wall. His hand quickly curled around hers on the weapon, a distrustful look glazing his dark green eyes.

“Trust me, okay? I’m not here to cramp your style, baby,” she assured him, a smile playing across her pink lips, and something in her vicious eyes told him that he could confide in her.

Dropping his hand from the blade, he smoothed his palms down her curves and gripped her hips tightly instead as she hoisted herself up on the blade and wrapped her legs around his waist, ankles crossing behind his back. His lips crashed against hers in a scorching kiss, teeth tearing and biting before he lined himself up with her entrance and violently thrust inside her dripping pussy to the hilt. She gasped a loud moan that surely could be heard all through the motel as he bottomed out completely, his dickhead slamming harshly against her cervix. He groaned and closed his eyes for a heartbeat as her warmth enveloped his entire cock. She’d always been the perfect fit for him.

“Missed this, huh?” Y/N teased him, grinning smugly, and watched his brow form furious creases.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunted and pulled out enough to slam back into her with full force, one hand finding its way back to her throat.

“Oooh, bossy. I like the new you. So raw,” she smirked and gasped anew when he hammered into her again. “F-fuck, baby... That’s it.”

This time, it seemed to do the trick as Y/N’s voice stumped, and she fell silent, her head thumping back against the wall in pleasure as his hips snapped against hers, pounding into her at a furious and relentless speed, the motel room wall shaking with her body.

“You know, by the end of the night, I’ll make sure my cum’s leaking out of every pretty little hole of yours, baby girl. How would you like that, huh?”

With one deafening scream at his next hard and deep thrust, Y/N sinfully smirked at him and nodded eagerly. “Oh, I’d fucking love that, baby.”

Dean tenderly kissed the burning red scratches on her bare back, soothing the bittersweet pain a little as his fingertips traced his marks along her spine. He made good on his promise, fucked her into oblivion without showing her any mercy, so much so that they both lost their sense of time and the meaning of life and love. In the end, it all just trickled down to meaningless, random shit. Pleasure and power were all that truly mattered in this deranged world, after all.

Y/N giggled sweetly as he found another ticklish spot before she turned in his embrace and caught his lips. “So, morning light is here, baby boy. Time to make a choice,” she prompted, smirking broadly. “Wanna team up for a little destruction?”

Dean sent her a smile, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face as he gently caressed the rosy apples of her cheeks. Finally, he sealed their deal with a sacrilegious kiss.

“Alright, glad you made the right decision, baby,” Y/N teased, her wicked smile almost splitting her face in half. “You know what we have to do first, though, right?”

“Yeah, we need to kill Sammy, Cas, and Crowley before they ruin our fucking fun,” he replied and kissed a path down to her tits, sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

“Ding, ding, ding,” Y/N grinned happily upon his correct answer and wiggled her eyebrows before pushing his head further down between her legs to her abused cunt. “But first, make me scream for mercy again, my love.”

Dear Chuck, you better hide from this toxic af couple 😂 Hope you enjoyed this, babes! There’s another smutty one-shot coming tomorrow for V-Day and then I’m done harassing you 💖😉

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373​ @lyarr24​ @deanwanddamons​ @deanwithscissors​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @justrealizedimmascifygurl​ @akshi8278​ @flamencodiva​ @chriszgirl92​ @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul​ @djs8891​ @leigh70​ @snowlovespie​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​ @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78​ @muhahaha303​ @mimaria420​ @creepzeyecandy​

Dean Tags: @parinarain​ @hobby27​ @fromcaintodean​

[mrsreginagold]

Fic: Getting Caught Up In A Moment

Fandom: Nikita 

Pairing: Ari Tasarov x Nikita Mears (Nikari)

Rating: R

Spoilers: Season 3 canon divergent AU. Ari betrayed Amanda and is working closely with Division and Nikita. She and Michael are broken up, but she also only learned of Ari’s relationship with Amanda recently and is reeling from the shock of it. 

Summary: Amanda’s quick exit from Division leads to something far more profound for Nikita and Ari. 

Author’s note: When the reveal that Ari and Amanda were an item happened I was decidedly not pleased. While I had resigned myself to the Michael/Nikita plot because that was obviously the endgame, Amanda felt like the worst possible choice for a romance when it came to Ari, as it really didn’t do anything to elevate either one of their characters. If anything it turned Ari from a chess master to a pawn in Amanda’s mind-games. So, in true petty rare shipper fashion: I evoked some revenge 😈. 

On A03

Getting Caught Up In A Moment

                  It felt as though some higher power was punishing her. 

                  Nikita Mears let out a beleaguered sigh as she surveyed the disarray left behind by one Amanda Collins – former head of Division, utter psychopath, and ex-lover of her crush: Ari Tasarov. 

                  Despite every intention not to, that last part tended to be what she would fixate on. Learning that the man who had betrayed Gogol to join her side was romantically involved at one point with the woman she considered the actual devil had dealt a significant blow to her confidence. 

                  To add insult to injury: Amanda neglected to organize things in her rush to get out, leaving Nikita as the one who had to deal with it. 

                  The lovely agent pinched at her temple, vowing to yell – at length – at her boss, Ryan Fletcher, when she had a chance. It would take several hours just to clear out the old office without assistance, and yet she was reluctant to ask the one person who would probably be best suited for the task. 

                  Being around Ari was more awkward now that the truth was out about his past relationship, and Nikita had taken to avoiding him unless it was related to a mission. Her feelings for him hadn’t changed, but it also hurt to look at that impossibly handsome face with the knowledge that someone she desperately wanted to kiss had done so with her nemesis. 

                  That was the crux of the matter, really. She was secretly head over heels and he was oblivious. 

                  With a frustrated sound, she slammed her hand on the table in front of her and groused: “You’re acting like a pitiful teenager!”

                  “It’s never a good sign if you start talking to yourself, you know.”

                  Nikita shrieked and leapt into the air before whirling around to face Ari, who was leaning against the doorframe. 

                  “What the hell are you doing here?” she gasped, her pulse racing both from the sight of him in casual clothing – jeans and a partly unbuttoned flannel shirt over a black tee – and the startle he had given her. She wondered briefly if she would ever truly adjust to him in a civilian look. The man was outright devastating when he wore tailored suits. The way he appeared before her now was borderline unfair.

                  The attractive former head of Gogol took a step towards her while he answered her question. “I asked Ryan where you were.”

                  “Did he fill you in on what I would be doing in your old paramour’s office? Frankly, I don’t think there’s much in here to salvage, if you’re looking for mementos.”

                  Ari scoffed at the sarcasm dripping from her tone, but it didn’t deter him from moving closer. “Truthfully: I would burn this place to a cinder if I could.”

                  “That’s not a bad idea,” she admitted. “But the boss wants me to catalogue whatever that snake left lying around.”

                  “He said as much when I inquired further. And while I think it’s an unfair task that he’s demanded of you, I’m here to help.”

                  She crossed her arms over her chest, arcing a perfectly groomed eyebrow skeptically at his explanation. “And the real reason?”

                  “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the better part of a week, Nikita. You’ve been avoiding me.”

                  It fell silent as they stared each other down. 

                  Nikita glanced at the floor, ashamed of both the fact that Ari had hit the proverbial nail on the head and her own behavior for the past few days. 

                  A soft click meant that the door to the office had closed, and then his footsteps echoed in the eerie quiet of the room before elegant fingers curled under her chin. 

                  Eyes the color of the sea right before a storm bore into hers. “I’d really like to know exactly what I did wrong here,” he whispered, daring a brief caress over her cheek.

                  Her skin automatically tingled at the contact, her heart cartwheeling repeatedly in her chest due to his proximity and the fact that she could discern tiny flecks of green in those crystalline depths. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

                  “Then why do you bolt whenever we’re in the same room? I thought things were improving between us,” there was genuine hurt in his gaze, which only made her guilt increase.

                  “Things were, and then you let it slip that you’d been involved with her,” she gestured wildly around the office they were in. “How did you think I would react to something like that?”

                  “Given that up until three weeks ago you were seeing someone else, I didn’t think you’d react at all,” he confessed, hands grasping at her shoulders firmly in his refusal to let her go. 

                  “You slept with the worst person in the world, so yeah: I think I’m entitled to a reaction! Which is revulsion by the way, I mean, how could you?!”

                  “I never said I slept with Amanda.”

                  “You really expect me to believe that what happened between the two of you never got physical?!” she attempted to wrench free, but he held fast.

                  “Of course not, but it wasn’t that serious!” he pulled her closer instead. “We were never together for lengthy amounts of time, and it was always on and off depending on how clear our schedules were. Besides that…well, you can call me old fashioned, but I believe that being truly intimate with a person requires actual affection. That wasn’t what I had with that woman. Amanda and I, we…we used each other, Nikita. She was aware of it, and I was incredibly aware of it. I never loved her! Not like I…” he paused then, his attractive features softening. “It’s nothing compared to what I’ve been feeling for you.”

                  She swallowed. On the one hand, he had just clarified that he did, in fact, harbor something for her. On the other: he had confirmed her worst fear. 

                  “Is that why you were running away? Because at one point, I chose her? Nikita –the only person who matters now is you. I want you. I choose you.” 

                  “Prove it.” She demanded, locking their gazes together. “You want me? Then make me forget everything else.”

                  “It would be my honor,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes before leaning in to kiss her.  

                  To say that Ari’s embrace was intoxicating was putting it lightly. Nikita had never experienced her knees actually buckling before, and maybe it was because she had anticipated this exact moment far longer than she had let on– but it didn’t matter because he caught her. 

                  She sighed against his mouth and wound her arms around his neck while he carried her over to the nearest surface, which was the former occupant’s desk in the corner of the room. 

                  He set her down carefully – a remarkable feat considering the gradual yet steady lust that threatened to erupt between them. His fingers then slipped beneath the hem of her dress to stroke provocatively over the bare skin of her thigh. 

                  In retaliation, she reached between them to undo the last few buttons of his flannel, shoving the garment insistently down his arms until he yanked them free. 

                  Ari finally broke for air and to strip the remaining tee over his head, revealing an exquisitely toned chest and abdomen.     

                  Nikita chewed at her lower lip, her eyes roaming over his torso in admiration. She reached out so she could drag her nails through the downy hair that dusted his skin, and then skimmed her fingers down along a flat stomach, delighting in the pleased hiss that emerged in response. 

                  He lunged, lips seeking hers over and over while he eased her out of the dress, leaving her in matching, dark blue lingerie. 

                  She coiled her legs around his waist to keep him close, shivering when he nuzzled at her clavicle and then lay feathery kisses along the slope of her bare shoulder. 

                  She blindly cast her bra to the side, desperate for his skin against hers, gasping when he gathered her flush against his form and oh-so-delicious friction was caused.

                  Clever fingers discovered her unbound breasts, thumbing over sensitized skin until it reacted beneath his touch. Arousal clouded her senses when he finally replaced his hands with his mouth, licking and biting lightly at first one then the other.

                  She hastened things by shucking away her underwear and then helping him out of what remained of his clothes.

                  The next thing Nikita knew, Ari was reclining her against the rough wooden surface while he continued in his ministrations. Her body arced naturally as he traveled lower and lower: until at last, she was at the mercy of a talented tongue.

                  Her hips bucked upwards, a pleased moan tearing from her throat while her lover worked a spectacular brand of magic. No other had brought her to completion so thoroughly, or so quickly. In little time at all she was seeing stars. 

                  He finally stopped when she was quaking from release, crawling back up her body and darting firefly kisses lazily across her skin. “I think this might be more comfortable if we moved to the couch.”

                  “There’s one in here? I didn’t even realize,” she flung an arm over her head, chest heaving as she attempted to calm down. 

                  “I forgot about it myself, but then this tiny voice in the back of my head began to warn me of splinters in uncomfortable places,” he chuckled, low, throaty, and incredibly alluring despite the humor in his tone. 

                  “Now that you mention it, I’m not sure this thing will hold up if we continue here. And the last thing we need is to explain to the boss just how the desk broke.”

                  “That settles it, then. Hold on.” With minimal effort, he scooped her up and then carted her, bridal style, away from the desk.

                  She nuzzled gratefully at the crook of his shoulder, draping her arms around his neck while they made the short trip to the divan located in a different area of the room. 

                  Seconds later, he deposited her on the plush surface and then settled comfortably against her. “Now…where were we? After all: I have a promise to keep.”

                  Nikita grinned and yanked Ari to her for a kiss that he eagerly returned.

                  She moaned when he glided his fingers over the curve of her hip, drawing her even closer.

                  They gave in to the rapid build of desire, embracing feverishly before he joined them together with a decisive thrust. 

                  Everything around her seemed to spiral. He felt so unbelievably good buried within her, and she canted her hips on instinct to start them off. 

                  They fell into a perfect rhythm, her fingers clawing at his back to encourage the motion of their tangled bodies, spurring him onward till they reached their pinnacle in unison. 

                  From that moment on – nothing else mattered save for their shared pleasure. 

                  It was easy to lose track of how many times they made love, especially when Ari proved to be quite gifted in that respect.

Nikita was content to lay in an exhausted, sated pile with him afterwards, covered by a throw blanket he had found in a box near the desk. With a content sigh, she nuzzled at his chest until something caught her eye and her brow furrowed.

                  “Hey, when did we manage to break the coffee table?”

                  He raised his head long enough to ascertain what she was referring to and then returned to resting it against the pillowed arm of the divan. “No idea. Maybe after that third round on the desk?”

                  “Which somehow held up better than we expected.” She remarked. “I guess it goes to show that in some respects, Amanda does have taste. Namely in furniture and men.”

                  “Still jealous?” he ducked a kiss to her temple.

                  “No, just determined to make sure she never digs her claws in you again,” she stretched, tracing a heart languidly over his. “You’re mine now. She’s just going to have to deal.”

                  “Trust me love; she will no longer pose a problem…at least where we’re concerned.” 

                  She shifted so she could gaze down at him, her heart flipping at the affection clearly reflected back at her. No other words needed to be said, so she leaned in, initiating a passion-filled kiss that escalated immediately. 

                  Given how difficult it was to maintain balance in their current location, she wasn’t remotely surprised when they toppled onto the floor, though judging by his laughter he also didn’t care much. 

                  They continued to embrace, hands wandering avidly over bare skin and both very much willing to head into their next session when a familiar, clearly amused voice stated. “So this is what passes for inventory cataloguing nowadays?”

                  The couple pulled away from each other to spot Owen Elliot standing by the now open door, grinning from ear to ear at being the one to catch them. 

                  “Uh…” Nikita hastily grabbed the nearest piece of clothing, which ended up being her lover’s shirt. “What time is it?”

                  “Around 8 am. You two have been here all night?”

                  “We lost track of time,” Ari admitted, once again dressed in the jeans he had been wearing before, but not bothering with anything else as he instead assisted his girlfriend in locating her dress. 

                  “No kidding,” Owen chuckled. “And I’m assuming neither of you noticed the camera.”

                  They froze in unison and then turned to face him with nearly identical, terrified expressions. 

                  He merely pointed towards the ceiling. “I can take care of that for you if you like.”

                  “What’s the catch?” Nikita inquired, used to taking the lead in negotiations with the former Guardian. 

                  “I get to have dinner with the two of you for a week. Lover boy’s cooking skills are legendary by this point, and it seems a fair trade for walking in on you.” 

                  “I’m assuming you mean meals made by scratch?” Ari queried, now fully dressed thanks to Nikita finally returning his overshirt. 

                  “Yes. No shortcuts.”

                  “Fine.” He wrapped an arm around his love when she moved back to his side. “I’ll consider it a reasonable price to pay for forgetting to lock the damn door.”

                  “We were preoccupied,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Owen, if you can get that camera, we’ll clean this place up; and actually put together that list.”

                  With missions clear, the three set to task, and if anyone happened to pass by and notice how affectionate Ari and Nikita now were, well, that couldn’t be helped.

The End