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avis-writeshq · 7 months

Note

omg omg please for track four of your event 🙈 we know that sparks fly!reader calls spencer ‘Walter’ but can we get the first time he calls her ‘angel’ please???? 💕💕

l.d.s.k – spencer reid [bonus 'sparks fly' chapter]

summary: in other words, the first time spencer calls you an angel pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff warnings: rated 15+ for general criminal minds violence, canon compliant with s1 e6 ‘L.D.S.K’, a hint of Derek slander oops, not beta read wc: 2.2k a/n: many many apologies for the delay anon! i hope this can live up to your expectations! sparks fly masterlist | event page

“Reid failed his qualification,” Elle tells you as she makes her way into the bullpen looking flawless as ever.

Her words bring you out of your daily crossword puzzle, your brows furrowing. “He failed?”

“Well, he can re-test in two weeks,” Gideon says dismissively, making his way over to the water dispenser.

Elle shrugs, craning her head to look at him. “They took his gun this morning,” she replies. She looks back over. “Be gentle.”

“I’m always gentle,” you tell her, harshly erasing a wrong answer in your puzzle. “Was that not already obvious?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Elle responds swiftly, her gaze set on Derek’s forehead.

Derek is quick to raise his hands in surrender, but the glimmer of amusement sparks in his eyes. You narrow your own just as Spencer comes walking through the glass doors with Gideon following behind him. The young doctor looks dejected as ever, the grip he has on the strap of his bag so tight that his knuckles blanche.

He slumps down onto his desk beside you, turning the computer on with a scowl. You open your mouth to say something, an attempt of making him feel better, but Derek beats you to it.

“We’re all here for you,” Derek says, noticing the way Spencer avoids his gaze. “I’m serious.”

It starts off well. Spencer finally begrudgingly looks Derek in the eye, an unimpressed look on his face.

“If you ever need anything,” Derek continues, fishing something out of his pocket. You lean over the desk divider to get a better look, but apparently you don’t need to. A shrill whistle sound fills the air, and Morgan snickers in jest. “Just blow on that.”

Spencer’s face falls into a stern frown as he hurries to rip the whistle off his neck, throwing it onto his desk.

You try once more to offer any form of condolences but your efforts are once again cut off by JJ carrying a stack of manila folders and passing them off to the team. You don’t pay much attention to what she’s saying (something about a shooting and three victims?), your gaze fixed on Spencer’s troubled face. The others rattle off about long distance serial killers and profiling, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for your lack of contribution, but your thoughts are filled with more pressing matters.

After the briefing and Hotch saying a simple, “Wheels up in twenty”, you turn in Derek’s direction as you stuff your bag with files and random pieces of stationary. Elle sits within earshot, packing her own things.

“Why are you so mean to him?” Your voice carries no malice and you don’t look in his direction at all, head down as you furrow through your go-bag.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“To Spencer,” you clarify, “like, just now. He was already in a bad mood. You didn’t really have to say much else.”

“I’m just… toughening him up,” Derek says with a shrug.

“This job would do that by itself. Spencer doesn’t need to ‘toughen up’, and this job doesn’t need your help to do that, either.” You lift your shoulder noncommittally. “I think you’re just insecure.”

Elle cackles at that, stifling her laughter behind her fist while Derek snaps his head in your direction. “Alright then, I’ll bite. How am I insecure?”

“You’re a classic alpha male, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you’re an alpha male who is in a work environment where almost every other man is also an alpha male. Spencer is the opposite; he’s more timid which, again, not a bad thing, and he’s also more intellectually gifted.” A wry smile spreads across your face as you hoist your bag off your desk and sling it over your shoulder. “You’re insecure that he’s smarter than you and because he’s the quote-un-quote ‘weakest’ of the pack, you just can’t help but pick on him.”

“Reid and I are friends,” Derek says defensively. “And come on, you can’t tell me that you don’t his ramblings a little bit annoying.”

You hum. “I don’t find them annoying. Even if I did, I wouldn’t cut my friends off when they’re talking about something they find interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. He swears that it was never his intention– he just forgot his wallet on his desk after everything that happened that morning. Regardless, hearing you defend him in such a way is enough to make his stomach flip.

He’s barely known you for two years. He joined the team a little after you did, granted, he was a permanent addition to the team while you at the time was just interning as a part of the course you were taking. It was only after a very long discussion with Hotch that you became a solid member of the BAU (you told Spencer all of this while you shook out your hands and by extension the nerves you experienced when you were seated in front of your boss’s desk with your resume. It took everything in him to not grab onto your hands and hold them firmly in his).

Even when you were an intern and only at work two out of the five workdays, Spencer was able to find solace in you. He didn’t really understand the logistics of it, much to his chagrin, but he has chalked it up to you being a little younger than him and feeling that slight twinge of ‘protectiveness’ over you. It doesn’t make sense, he gathers upon second thought, you don’t need protecting. Despite that, he finds himself gravitating to you as if you were the earth and he was the moon. You, full of life and all things wonderful, and him, a dim light that he hopes could brighten up your darkest nights.

He doesn’t think that that comparison is accurate enough, is the conclusion he comes to when he hears you chastise Derek for his lack of compassion. It isn’t so much ‘chastising’ as it is stating a fact. Spencer thinks you’re an angel and that everyone should kiss the floor you walk on. His head spins with facts about angels and their origins. He mumbles the facts under his breath, considering all the different backgrounds of angels and the connotations of viewing you as such. Spencer scrunches his nose in annoyance. He’ll be thinking about this the entire flight.

***

You sit next to him during the flight. Your hands are in your lap as you fiddle with your fingertips, almost as if you’re contemplating something. Spencer glances at you expectantly from the corner of his eye, ignoring the book he is supposed to be reading.

“I know I shouldn’t really have to say this, but don’t worry about Derek,” you tell him through a hushed whisper. “He’s just being an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, trying to not look fazed about the situation. “I know.”

You shift again in your seat before playfully flipping his collar upwards. “I like this shirt on you. Red is totally your colour.”

He thinks it’s pathetic, the way his eyes light up and the way he physically preens at your compliments. “There have been studies on the colour red and how it may impact one’s perceptions of others. Actually, it has been found that seeing the colour red can cause an elevation in blood pressure, enhanced metabolism, and a spike in heart rate which are all physiological changes associated in increased energy levels. Another study showed that those who wear red are perceived to be more sexually appealing than those who wear other colours.”

His cheeks flare in embarrassment upon realising the insinuation of his words and he hurriedly backtracks. “Not that I was expecting anything! It was just interesting and–”

“Walter, it’s fine.” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “It’s okay! You’re right, it is interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t think you’re an angel anymore. He knows it. He manages to crack a smile. “You think so?”

You nod enthusiastically, looking over at him. “Tell me more.”

He thinks that he might faint.

***

The hospital is under lockdown. Your head spins when you see SWAT making their way through the lobby, armed in heavy bulletproof uniform and guns that are at least half your height. You’ve never had to work a situation where they had to be called and the severity of the situation sinks in.

“Hotch and Spencer will be okay, right?” You ask worriedly, glancing over to where Gideon is trying to negotiate with the captain.

“They’re good at what they do,” JJ reassures gently, squeezing your arm. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Gideon returns with a disgruntled frown, gesturing with annoyance towards the SWAT team. “They’re taking the ER in three minutes.”

“That’s it?” Your words are quiet as you try not to attract the attention of the people in said team. “So, what, Hotch and Spencer need to talk down a crazy armed sociopath in three minutes?”

“It’s like they don’t even want our help,” Elle says through a grumble. “What’s the point of asking us here if they’re not even going to listen to us?”

Somehow, those three minutes are both the longest and shortest three minutes of your life. There’s nothing you can do except wait and even then, the hospital is borderline silent. You’re not necessarily sure if that’s a good thing. You watch with the others as SWAT trek up the stairs in formation, and you wring your hands out nervously. Time continues to tick by and just when you’re sure that you’ll be stuck here for the next however many hours, a loud bang rings through the hospital. It’s so sudden that you jolt on the spot, your head snapping towards the door.

A few civilians, all accompanied by SWAT agents, make their way through the doors and towards the ambulances stationed outside. You follow them out, taking in a breath of fresh night air while a shiver runs down your spine from the cool breeze. Everything seems to be in order and everyone seems to be calm and collected. That must be a good sign, right?

Spence grimaces from his spot on the back of an ambulance, rubbing at his lower torso. The pain isn’t that bad anymore, but it does feel a little raw from where Hotch repeatedly kicked him. His face is bruised from where Phillip Dowd hit him with the back of his rifle. The gun he used feels heavy in his pocket and he genuinely isn’t used to it being there.

“You alright?” Hotch asks. He’s using a softer tone, one that Spencer isn’t particularly accustomed to.

Spencer nods, his arms crossed over his stomach. “Yeah.”

“Nice shot.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “I was aiming for his leg.”

Hotch looks a little amused before he continues, “I wouldn’t have kept kicking but I was afraid you didn’t get my plan.”

“I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire,” Spencer says genuinely, nodding.

“Well, I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly,” Hotch says guiltily.

Spencer can’t help but laugh quietly. “Hotch, I was a twelve year old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school. You kick like a nine year old girl.” He pauses, offering the gun back to him.

“No, keep it,” Hotch says, patting Spencer squarely on the shoulder. “As far as I’m concerned you passed your qualification.”

Spencer offers a smile as his boss walks away, his gaze meeting yours as you hurry over to him. “Hey–”

“Walter, your face,” you lament with a frown, reaching a hand out to brush against the bruising.

Spencer flinches, hissing softly and you pull back. “It’s still a little sore.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, glancing again at his injuries, worry laced in your tone and etched upon your features.

“You’re an angel,” Spencer says softly in a daze, watching the way the flashing lights from the ambulance.

Heat travels up towards your cheeks at his words and you press the backs of your hands against your face in an attempt to calm yourself down. “I’m not an angel.”

He’s in too deep to try and backtrack so he nods. “You are,” he says honestly, looking up at you from where he sits on the ambulance. “And if you can call me by my middle name, doesn’t that mean I can give you a nickname too?”

“Well, I guess,” you relent, your heart still aching at the sight of the bruise on the side of his face.

He beams at you as he pockets the gun. “Alright, then, angel.”

Your cheeks grow hot again and this time you feel the blood rush to your ears. “It’ll take a while to get used to it.”

He laughs. “But you’ll get used to it.”

“I heard what you did in there,” you say swiftly, effectively changing the subject. “You don’t need that whistle anymore.”

Spencer nods and smiles. “Yeah. Thanks, angel.”

“Anytime, Walter.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

sparks fly masterlist | event page

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worldlxvlys · 8 months

Text

ice

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smuttt, ice play, tittie fixationnn, cursing

a/n: hope you likeee

based off of these snaps

i watched as matt picked up a piece of ice from his cup, popping it in his mouth like a piece of candy.

“you’re fucking insane for that” i said, looking at him as though he was crazy.

he rolled his eyes playfully. “yeah, yeah. you think i’m weird for eating ice, i’m aware”

“you’re right, i do”

“well you’re entitled to your wrong opinion”

“i’m never wrong” i narrowed my eyes at him.

“well, you are now” he said as he got up from my couch, walking towards my kitchen.

i quickly followed him, refusing to back down so easily.

“no, i’m not. you’re trying to tell me it’s normal to be obsessed with frozen water?”

he held his cup up to the fridge, filling it up with more ice from the dispenser.

“there are plenty of people who enjoy eating ice. maybe you’re the weird one”

“no i’m not. i just don’t like ice”

he tilted his head at me, squinting his eyes at me.

“you sure about that, princess?” the look in his eyes made my heart race.

he moved closer to me, making me slowly back up. my back was met with the hard marble of my kitchen island.

“yes” i said in a small voice.

“that wasn’t very convincing” he said, condescendingly.

my eyes shifted down to his hand, watching him pick up a piece of ice.

because i had no plans of actually going anywhere today, i opted out of putting a bra on under my tank top this morning.

matt took full advantage of this decision.

he placed the small cube against my clothed nipple, making me jump.

“shit! matt, that’s cold” i gasped out.

“that’s the point baby” he smirked at me.

he rolled the ice cube around my nipple, making my head fall back.

he gently pushed me back onto a barstool.

“those beautiful thighs are gonna be giving out soon baby. can’t have you falling” he said as he pulled the straps to my top down my shoulders.

he pulled the top down just enough to free one of my tits. he put the ice cube to it, while massaging the other through my top.

i bit my lip, trying desperately to suppress my moans.

“still don’t like ice?” he asked, watching as i tried to keep a straight face.

“no.”

he pulled my top over my head, exposing my boobs.

“let’s fix that” he said, taking what was left of the half-melted ice cube into his mouth and bringing his lips to my boob.

“o-oh fuck!” i yelled, as he moved the ice cube around.

my nipples were so hardened they almost hurt.

“god, matt” i sighed out.

he continued to swirl the cube, letting it melt on my skin. he continued to lick and lap at my nipple, even once the cube was gone.

he started to suck, leaving dark marks all over my chest.

“god, i love your tits” he whispered into my chest, looking up at me. the sight alone made my panties even wetter.

“so fucking perfect” he said, placing a kiss on both of them.

“take these off for me, baby” he said, tugging at the waistband of my pants.

“no.”

“excuse me ?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

“you heard me. take it off yourself”

“no.”

we both glared at each other, waiting for the other to break.

we played this game often, both being too stubborn to break.

i’m not giving in.

“beg for it” he said.

“no”

he took a piece of ice and slid it around my stomach.

my breathing picked up, trying to fight the way my body reacted to the the cold.

he slowly moved the ice under my waistband, making my hips jolt.

“shit!”

he placed the ice against my pussy, making me clench around nothing.

he licked a stripe up my neck, stopping just below my ear.

“tell me you like the ice” he whispered in my ear, his voice raspy.

“no”

he moved the direction of his hand sharply, pressing the ice against my clit.

“tell me you like it” he started to rub circles on my clit with the ice.

“mmmmm” i whined.

the ice was now almost fully melted, and the stinging sensation paired with the sensitivity of my clit made my stomach tighten .

“say it” he pushed the little bit of ice left inside of me, making me shudder.

“no” i said in a broken moan. he removed his hand.

“fine” he said as he backed up.

“what? what do you mean fine?” i asked.

he licked the fingers that he just had in my pants.

“i’ll stop. i mean, you don’t like ice, right?”

“wait, matt-“

“no, it’s fine. i’ll just enjoy the rest of my ice by myself” he shrugged.

he can’t be serious.

he took a piece of ice from his cup, making an obnoxious slurping sound and moaning.

“god, i love ice” he said in an exasperated tone, almost mockingly.

i just stared at him in disbelief.

“well, i’m going back to the couch” he said. “and if you even think about touching yourself, i swear to god, i’ll edge you for hours”

if he thought that would stop me, he was wrong.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

part 2 ??

updateee: pt 2 is here, go readdd :)

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chris @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling

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milkyhoneybee · 1 year

Text

Need to be strapped into a milker with someone or something using my pussy, keeping me sloppy and horny while I moo

Being fed and injected with special drugs and hormones that make my tits bigger and milkier until they're massive udders that need support if I need to move away from the milker

My teats stretching further and further and thickening, still sensitive enough to make me cum easily

Once I'm finished and at optimum output, I get put up for auction, unsure who will take me and if I'll be someone's hucow sex slave, just another head of cattle on a farm, or put to work as a milk dispenser and/or cumdump

#hucow transformation #induced lactation #hucow fantasy #lactation kink #nsft fantasy #breast expansion #hucow tf

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seat-safety-switch · 2 months

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Couple years ago, in engineering school, we built this robot for a final project. It was called "Fun Facts Frank," and it – I guess he – would follow you around the room, telling you fun facts about the world. Sounds simple, but there was just something about how he toodle-bootled throughout the place, genially meeting people before dispensing information about salamanders or spaghettini that won over our prof. And then he left the door open.

We never saw Fun Facts Frank again. The other folks in my group looked for him, but I knew it was futile. Against their recommendation, I had strapped a very powerful electric motor and an enormous battery to Frank, because I wasn't sure if we would be able to find an outlet on the day of the big presentation. It turns out that this gave Frank an effective range of "the entire fucking province." Also, Tedward thought it would be cute if Frank could ask you to plug him in when his batteries ran low. Nobody could resist such an adorable robot, so we figured he could easily travel from bar to bar, regurgitating Wikipedia for a couple cents of block-heater-outlet juice at a time.

After a while of searching, we did give up. Final exam season was coming up, and in all that excitement it seemed like Frank was the least important problem on our plates. It wasn't wise to cut out our studying and day-drinking to go searching for a wayward robot, especially one that had been explicitly programmed to avoid harming anyone. We got busy with our careers after that. Years passed before Charlie remembered about it, and by then we really didn't have a good idea where to find him.

Well, one fateful evening, I turned on the news, and Fun Facts Frank had become Mayor Frank. He was apologizing to the small town he had tricked into voting for him. Turns out we never programmed him to have fun facts about how to avoid massive overland flooding, and he instead spent the entire prep period driving around the shore of the river, telling everyone about how hot the surface of Mercury was instead of helping carry sandbags. We went there to pick him up, but he had already been re-elected by then, and his security guards had fun facts about truncheons applied to a bunch of nerds for us as well.

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hitomisuzuya · 9 months

Note

soft smut with scara? Xmas themed?

poor name is just so tired from working overtime at her little bakery, she’s forgotten all about Christmas!

she’s had such a bad day.. she first spilt hot cocoa all over herself, it was her only cup too! And then she accidentally burnt a client’s cookies, to which they were very angry and said some mean things.

but the worst of all, she couldn’t see her love. On Christmas Eve, She had gotten him a few early presents like the most decadent, non-sweet tea, and other things he liked, before her big surprise ;), but it didn’t seem like he liked it..

she comes home, groggy and sad. Only to see the house dimly lit, smelling like roses. Maybe because of the rose petals leading to her and Scara’s shared bedroom.

she goes in, it’s dark. She then feels a pair of arms wrap around her waist..

Hjehe giggling as I type this ppl on the train think I’m going crazy!! >_< merry Christmas I love love loveeee you!!!!

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Soft smut. Cunnilingus. Soft Scara. Lighthearted ending❤️

Merry Christmas, everyone!

You didn't think Christmas would ever suck so much. You didn't think it was possible since it was supposed to be a warm holiday that promoted good cheer and what not.

Your whole body was sore, and your eyes felt puffy from crying. You could understand that the customer got angry about your burning their cookies, but they didn't need to say some of the mean things they said.

Your heart was hurting from not being able to see Scaramouche on Christmas. After work, you'd been determined to try and go out and find him better gifts since you couldn't really tell if he'd even liked ones you'd gotten him already.

And the one thing you thought you'd be allowed to enjoy, your hot chocolate, was all over your shirt.

You were defeated, wanting to cry when you walked in the door. The tears welled even faster when you saw Scaramouche wasn't here. Or at least that's what you thought until you looked down.

Huh? Rose petals? There was whole trail of them leading down the hall to your shared bedroom door. Swiping some tears away with your hand, you followed them.

Scaramouche knew you'd had a bad day. One of his friends had been in the shop while the customer was yelling at you and relayed what had happened. (And he'd spent the day kicking himself for not expressing himself better receiving your gifts).

You felt his arms wrap around you from behind. Immediately words came tumbling from your mouth. "Scara, I'm sorry you didn't like your gifts, and there was this awful customer today," He felt your body shake a little in his arms.

"Hush," He said, pressing soft kisses on your neck, "Let's just get you out of these clothes so I can take care of you," He turned you around to face him, gently cupping your jaw as he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips.

Scaramouche's hands were soft and delicate, raising goosebumps on your skin and making you shiver. He tugged your shirt off, kissing a line down each of your shoulders as he slid the straps of your bra down.

He could feel you relaxing under his touches as he took off your bra and dispensed with the rest of your clothes. Picking you up bridal style in his arms, he carried you over to the bed and gently set you down, making sure the pillows were propped comfortably around you.

Scaramouche kissed and licked a line down your stomach. He kissed the inside of your thighs as he spread your legs. A breathy sigh of pleasure sounded from you as he swept his tongue on your clit.

He wasn't concerned with getting his own clothes off. That could come later. He was more concerned with taking care of you. His licks were slow, and languid, his thumbs skimming over the insides of your thighs lovingly as your hips jerked up in response to the sudden pleasure building.

Scaramouche was a pro at building up slow, intense orgasms. He knew exactly how to lick and suck your pussy, swirling his tongue between your walls until you were mewling and moaning. He caressed your hips, wanting you to lose yourself in the pleasure his mouth was giving you.

Your hands found the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Your hips bucked into his mouth, eagerly seeking friction on your swollen clit. He could see the shy blush dusting your cheeks. It was cute you were embarrassed by how loud you were getting.

"It's okay, let it all out. Relax and let me make you cum on my tongue, my pretty girl," He purred encouragement, latching his lips onto your clit. You gasped in pleasure behind your moans, pressing his mouth onto your cunt.

You were melting in bliss, all the pain and stress of the day washed away and replaced with strong jolts of pleasure. It was exactly what you needed and what Scaramouche wanted.

Your eyes closed, feeling your orgasm build up tighter with every swirl and suck on your clit. "Sc-ara.. Scaramouche.." You could barely moan his name coherently.

He could feel in the way your body twitched as you writhed that you close to cumming hard. He groaned in bliss as you pressed his mouth onto your cunt again.

"Cum for me, my sweet girl," Scaramouche purred, pushing two fingers inside of you straight up into your sweet spot, "you deserve it."

That was the the encouragement that you needed. You let out a soft scream of pleasure as your orgasm suddenly hit you. His tongue eagerly lapped your release, kitten licking your clit to nurse you through your orgasm.

You were panting and shaking by the time to sat up and wiped his mouth. He'd spoiled you with his mouth, now it was time to spoil you with his cock. But first, "By the way," He took a piece of paper out his pocket and handed it to you, "I had a..friendly chat with that asshole customer earlier. Not only did they pay for the burned batch of cookies, they paid double for a dozen more."

You wondered what exactly he meant by friendly chat.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #soft scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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gracieheartspedro · 11 months

Text

Beggin' for Thread

part 2 of Trash Talk

pairing: fem!reader x abby anderson (post outbreak, set before the events of tlou2)

description: being stuck with abby and him-who-should-not-be-named on a mission is already a big problem. especially when you're not on your a-game. abby ends up saving your ass. but hey, it may not all be in vain. shit starts to get a bit better.

word count: 9.2k (HAHAHA I got wild with this one.)

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, no use of y/n, no real descriptions of reader, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, this part has a lot of murder in it (so if you're not good with violence, pls skip out), use of guns, graphic description of dead bodies, ow*n is in a lot of this (sorry), dom!abby, abby giving reader a bed bath, fingering, eating out, use of a strap on, dirty talk, name calling. someone lowkey walking in on sexy time? if I missed anything, please let me know.

author's note: the wait is over! the love on part 1 blows me away. I love you guys so fucking much. you each make my heart so happy. thank you thank you thank you!!

“Hey, Heartless. Glad you could join us today.”

His voice makes your skin crawl. You rub your eyes, trying to clear the haze out of your vision. You’re overly exhausted. After Abby left, you never found sleep. You could not get her out of your mind. She left you disoriented.

“Hey, Owen,” You mutter, his name tastes disgusting in your mouth. He was gross to look at, let alone talk to. You decide to occupy your mind by checking over the guns you were just dispensed while you sit and wait for the jeep you would be loaded into gets gassed up.

“Heard you and Abby got into it.”

You heart stops. He can’t know?

You hold your composure, not even flinching at the question. If he did know, you’re just going to deny it and tell him to fuck off.

“What are you talking about?” You play dumb, not ever looking up to meet Owen’s gaze above you.

“Manny told me you were going in on her yesterday,” He sounds a bit unnerved when he says it. You stop checking over your gun, finally meeting his eyes. Before you can respond, you cock the gun before flicking the safety on.

“It’s not my fault she can’t pull her fuckin’ punches. We could’ve easily been picked off one by one since she didn’t want to unload her gun at some Scars.”

You don’t even realize how bitter you sound until it all comes out like word vomit. You weren’t even that angry about that, you knew you could handle it all alone. It was the fact that she left you hanging last night and became cold so quick.

Owen chuckles, “Take it easy, dude. I’m just wonderin’ why you think it’s okay to talk to her like that.”

He’s sizing you up. Typical of a man like Owen.

You stand up, knowing damn well it was the wrong day for him to do some shit like this to you.

You sling your rifle over your shoulder, “I’m not in the mood to answer to some fuck ass like you. And I’m also sure your new nurse girlfriend wouldn’t like to hear that her boyfriend is trying to stick up for his ex.”

“Don’t bring Mel into this,” He begins, his stance shifting, “You don’t get to talk about her.”

“And you don’t get to weasel your way into my business because you’re some entitled idiot who thinks every woman owes you something,” You begin to side step past him, “For all our sake, keep your mouth shut and leave the leading to the girls.”

You don’t listen to the rest of the shit he spouts at you. You walk towards Manny, who’s standing next to another guy, you think his name is Alex. You give him a slight nod of acknowledgment.

“Hey there, cariño,” Manny says a smile creeping across his face, “Sleep well?”

Your skin crawls.

“Like a baby,” You mumble, your eyes feeling heavy as you respond, “Who are we waiting for?”

“Abby and Leah will be here any minute,” Alex explains as he finishes filling the jeep with fuel, “Think they went to grab some breakfast.”

Hearing Abby’s name next to another girl's name made your throat tighten. You can’t be jealous. She’s not yours.

Just as you’re about to say something about being late to your checkpoint, Manny's eyes avert up to the door leading into the stadium. Abby and Leah appear, both holding a plethora of breakfast burritos. Your stomach had been upset all morning because of anxiety, so the idea of food makes you want to hurl. You observe Abby and Leah hand each foiled wrapped tortilla to everyone, making jokes about being late.

Abby’s eyes lock onto yours as soon as her head turns in your direction. She blinks before avoiding your gaze for Manny’s.

“Nice for you guys to join us,” Alex jokes as Leah walks towards him with an extended hand, burrito in tow.

You scoff, “Yeah, we should’ve left 20 minutes ago.”

Abby’s face drops from a soft smile to a deadly glare. She gives Manny a burrito, her hands holding two remaining.

One was meant for you.

“Yeah? Well you should’ve gotten a head start by yourself. Cleared the way for everyone.”

Her sharpness filled you with rage. She extends some foil towards you. Before you can even say anything, your instincts are to swat her arm away. The burrito flies out of her hand, splattering across the concrete floor.

“What the fuck,” She yells, her eyes trained on your deadpan expression. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you glance back to a stern looking Manny. He doesn’t want a repeat of yesterday.

You look back at Abby’s furrowed eyebrows, her scrunched face causing sharp pains to go across your chest.

“I don’t like burritos.”

She shakes her head, “So you launch it out of my fuckin’ hands when someone else could’ve eaten it?!”

You don’t say anything, just turn and begin your climb up onto the jeep. You slip onto the spot you found yourself in yesterday, closest to the passenger side.

You watch everyone hesitantly get in behind you.

“Are you okay taking the top floors with Owen and Abby? Or do you want to come with me and Leah?”

Manny is adjusting his rifle on his shoulder. You all arrived to the skyscraper you heard Scars were trying to take over to get some higher ground on a popular WLF route. Your goal is to take out every Scar there and prepare it for WLF occupation.

Manny wanted to make sure you would not act up for Abby and Owen. He didn’t want to deal with the fallout if there was another incident involving you. He really liked you, he didn’t want to see you getting chewed out or possibly killed. You appreciated him looking out for you.

“That’s fine,” you settle your hands confidently on your gun, “I will be on my best behavior, Manny. Promise.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

You stay back from the rest of the group as you all walk quietly through the destroyed streets of Seattle. Luckily this area wasn’t consistently flooded, so you didn’t have to wade through any filthy water today.

Abby walks in front of you next to Leah and Owen. You stare at her backside, trying not to make yourself too obvious. You need to cut it out, you need to focus.

When you all finally make it to the building, you huddle in with the group to remind each person where they are going. You and Manny hashed it out already so you want to be positive you knew where everyone would be if all hell broke loose.

Owen cringes when he hears that you’d be joining him and Abby.

You all split up to your designated places. You let Owen lead not wanting to argue when Scars could be on any corner. He starts towards a staircase, his gun trained forward. You follow him before Abby does, which means she gets to be behind you now. You three head up each staircase, your guns resting on your shoulders. You are as quiet as mice, your footfalls silent.

Owen stops, turning back to you and Abby.

“I hear them,” He whispers, pointing up the flight you have yet to go up. You nod, gesturing him to press forward. He continues on. This is when your adrenaline turns to numbness. You forget the emotions you had before you were in this staircase, they are now replaced with pure instinct.

Owen creeps open the door and that’s when you hear it.

A whistle from behind you.

You snap back, your finger and eyes reacting at the same time. A single Scar with their bow trained right on Abby. With one squeeze, they are on the ground bleeding and Abby jumps forward towards your body. She wraps her arms around your waist, her gun aimed towards the door Owen just opened. More whistling.

“Go!”

You’re not even focused on the fact that Abby has her hands on you, pulling your attention back to the open room of about 10 Scars. Owen is lighting up the room, but firing aimlessly. You hunch down, taking cover behind the door frame. Abby is beside you, tightly gripping onto her gun. You glance over at her. She’s not panicked, she’s not rattled. She’s angry.

You smirk at her, sickly enjoying her in this state.

You snap forward, aiming everywhere you see movement. Luckily Owen got the few at the front of the room. One, two, three, drop in their puddles of blood. When more gunfire erupts behind you, instinct is to look back. So when you look back at Abby firing skillfully at the people you missed, you just about fall to your knees.

When you look back, you realize no more movement stirs the smokey room.

“Everyone okay?” Owen calls out as you step forward as you wander around each piece of furniture in the room. You want to make sure you’re vigilant.

“I’m good, are you?”

You step over a man’s body as you spot a foot move behind a desk.

When you make it over to the body, it’s a girl with her hand over her neck. You aimed at her earlier, you could’ve sworn you aimed higher.

The fact that your initial thought was how you killed her made your brain snap back. What the fuck are you doing?

She’s trying to speak, but nothing is coming out. Blood is pooling on her chest and hands. You kneel down to her, your demeanor changing from violent murderer to grieving friend. Even with the scars littering her face, she looks just like any other girl you may know. Her mouth is moving but nothing is coming out. You reach out your hand, touching her leg.

You can feel your stomach flip when you notice a tear slipping from her eye. Guilt riddles your bones, the blood spilling from her by your own hand.

You swallow thickly before you mutter the words, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

She lets out one final breath.

You stand, your legs feeling wobbly. You look back at Abby and Owen. He’s not focused on you, but Abby can’t look away from your actions. She gives you a curious look, watching you stumble a bit.

“What is it?”

You can’t even form words, too taken aback from watching the life slip from that girl’s eyes. It brought you back to when you were a child, watching your sister die. That could’ve been someone’s sister.

“What the fuck are we even doing?” You ask, trying not to stutter.

Owen finally looks over at you after stealing a guy’s gun magazine, “What are you talking about?”

You know you’ll get in trouble for saying what you really want to say. You can’t trust either of them. Everything would get back to Isaac.

So you don’t say anything.

You finish clearing the room, trying to avoid looking at the faces of the deceased. Owen and Abby leave the room while you trail behind them slowly. You’re on edge, trying to shake the emotions and ideas running through your head. It’s the same emotion you felt when that guy tried to force you to butcher a child, probably not even above the age of 10. Their mother stood by, screaming the child’s name, but you were too busy staring into the child’s eyes.

They are just like us. What are we doing?

Owen kicks open another door, leading you and Abby through what you assumed was an old board room. There was no one there, but as you looked across the water damaged floor, you notice one of the shattered glasses windows. You creep closer, the glass crunching under your boots. You look down to the street, the grass overtaking the main road. You start to imagine what this place probably looked like before the infection.

Now it’s a wasteland.

You realize how high up you are when you hear a shaky breath behind you. Abby stands close to you, trying to see what you’re seeing, but instead she starts to panic over the height you were at. You face her, remembering all the times you were forced to take the high ground with her, only for her to have a panic attack and leave you alone.

She’s practically dry heaving. You push her back, nudging her to get away from the open window.

“We don’t need you throwing up,” You grumble, your hand on her shoulder, “Stay back.”

She swallows, shaking her head. “Deal.”

Owen scopes out an attached room before you three continue pressing on. You needed to clear every room that wasn’t destroyed by time and vegetation.

You pander down an empty hallway by yourself, trying to ensure your footsteps are not loud. You grip your gun when you hear a couple voices in a separate stairway. You press yourself against the wall next to the exit, waiting for the voices to get closer.

“There can’t be that many left. We already got two of them.”

You snap your head the direction Abby and Owen were the last time you saw them. Now it’s only Abby. She stares at you, her eyes glinting with curiosity. You nod towards the door next to you, cocking your gun.

She knows what that means. She jogs over, trying not to be too loud.

When she gets to your side, she gets into a defensive stance. The voices are coming down the stairs, you think.

“Aim up. There’s two.”

She nods right before you kick open the door, exposing the two people on the stairs. They don’t even have time to raise their weapons before Abby riddles them with bullets.

The sound attracts Owen, who comes stomping down the hallway.

“There’s more, go down!”

You hold your ground, shaking your head, “We can’t! Isaac said we need to c-”

“Fuck what he said. We are gonna die if we stay!”

Owen is never one to abandon a mission, so you take his word for it. But you know what you heard, if they did kill 2 people, one of them could’ve been Manny. And if they killed Manny, you don’t know what you’d do. Manny is the only other person you can tolerate in the WLF. Besides… you know.

You have to just hope he’s okay.

Abby’s eyes widen as she looks down the hall where Owen was just coming from. Whistles erupt and you know what that means. Abby grabs your free hand, practically ripping your arm out of the socket as she takes off down the stairs.

You’re practically being dragged down the steps, skipping multiple steps at once as Abby never gives up your hand. Owen is close behind, but every so often, he stops to aim up the stairs to spray bullets. He’s trying to slow them down, but he’s also probably attracting more to your location. A door swings open in Abby’s path, and without even thinking for a millisecond, you lift up your gun and shoot directly into the opening. It was just one guy and your aim was spot on. Your mind is solely on protecting the girl who’s incapable of letting go of your hand.

“Keep moving!”

Another five flights and you’re finally on the ground floor. Abby finally releases your hand, letting you catch your breath for a second as Owen stands his ground and lights up the staircase behind you.

“We need to find the others! Now!” Abby yells over the gunfire.

You stumble forward, checking down the hallway you watched Manny and Leah go down before you three walked up the stairs. You don’t even say anything, you just start running down the corridor. Your throat is tight just thinking of Manny’s lifeless body.

Two Scars appear behind a corner and you expertly shoot them, running straight pass them without hestitating. You’re in fight or flight mode, your body shaking with fear that you could stumble upon a horrible scene.

You don’t know when you start doing it, but you start screaming his name. Over and over again. You’re giving away where you are to the enemy, but you did not care.

Before you can finish slaughtering more people, Manny and Leah yell your name from a room at the end of the hall. When you get to the door, you kick it open with all your might, breaking through the door with your foot.

“¿Qué pasó? Are you alright!?”

You’re panting and on edge, so when you see Manny’s concerned face, you breath a sigh of relief. His voice brings a bit of comfort as well.

Abby finally makes it to you, her boots halting right behind you, while her hands find the sides of your body.

“We gotta go! There’s more Scars than we thought. We either go or die!”

You swallow thickly, your body buzzing at the feeling of Abby’s large hands on your hips. She’s not doing it on purpose, it’s almost like she needs to have you close. She needs to protect you just like you protected her.

Manny glances over at Leah, nodding in agreement that they are on the same page. Abby pulls you away from the threshold so they can leave the room they were scoping out. Owen gets to you four, informing everyone where he thinks the Scars could hide and how they would probably make your escape hard. Abby’s hands are still on you.

You glance back at her, your lips slightly ajar. She looks down at you with hooded lids.

“We are getting out of here and you’re not leaving my side, got it?” She whispers for your ears only. You just nod.

You’re just following everyone at this point, keeping your finger trained on the trigger of your gun. Abby follows you closely, not letting you out her eyeline. You run through each corridor, trying to seek out a good exit. When you finally reach the end of a hallway, you peer out the floor to ceiling windows to see if you spot any Scars outside. There’s two rooms beside you that look like they are empty, but there’s no light shining through the thresholds. This is the only way out down this hallway. You were sick of being a sitting duck. When you realize you have no other choices you liked, you shoot out the window.

The group jumps back at your reaction.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Owen yells, smacking your shoulder hard. You turn your gun and aim it right at him. Abby’s eyes widen at your action, her arm instantly going up to block the barrel of your gun. She’s pleading with you, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m getting us out of here. Why do you insist on being a prob-”

Before you can get the rest of the word out, you hear footsteps approaching you quickly from the right. All you can remember is the air being taken from your lungs and your body flying sideways, away from Abby’s protective stance.

When you come to, you’re being held up by someone. You blink slowly, but your eyes will not focus on the person whose arms are holding you tight.

“What’s happening?” You manage to mutter. As you say it, you taste blood. Your ears are ringing, but you can still hear the voices around you. They are yelling to run faster!

“You’re gonna be fine, okay babe?”

You know that voice.

“You can’t call me that.”

She slows down a bit just to look at you, “Can call you whatever I want.”

Your head hurts. You know you can not fight the exhaustion plaguing your body. You can’t even argue back to her. You shut your eyes again, succumbing to the darkness.

You notice the pounding headache first. Then the very dimly lit hospital room you’re in. Then the presence in the corner of the room.

“Welcome back,” Her voice is smooth and velvety. You prop yourself a bit, but as soon as you do, it’s like the pressure in your head doubles. You feel like your brain may implode, the pain pulsating against your skull. You try to widen your eyes to focus on her, but your brain cannot muster enough energy to do so. Your vision is just slightly blurred while you train your eyes on her.

“What happened?” Your voice is weak and your mouth is dry. You try your best to create saliva, but nothing really happens when you smack your chapped lips.

“You got tackled by a Scar before any of us could see him coming. Asshole was quick. You smacked your head pretty hard on the floor,” She stands up from the chair in the corner, making her way closer to you. She’s not wearing the same shirt as yesterday. She’s in a long sleeve thermal, the light off white is a good color on her.

You blink slowly, trying to take in the information, “What happened to him?”

“Manny shot him when I was ripping him off you. It attracted a lot more of them. I grabbed you before anyone else could and just took off running.”

You look up at her when she gets to your side. You don’t say anything, just shake your head. You can’t believe Abby, of all people, saved you from possible death. She had your back the whole time, even though you gave her shit. You didn’t even realize the small glances, the quick actions when you were in your own zone.

All you could think about the whole time is how you were totally off your game and Isaac was going to have your neck for it.

“And the rest of the group?”

“They were close behind. We made it back to the jeep pretty quickly. I held you in the back until we could get to the hospital. That’s where we are now.”

“Who didn’t make it out?”

Her lips go into a thin line, “Alex and Kerrigan.”

Alex was the guy from earlier this morning with Manny. He seemed nice enough, surely he didn’t deserve to die. Kerrigan was a girl you remember from a couple of meetings with Isaac. She was a smaller girl, quick on her feet and very quiet. You can’t even really remember her face, which makes you feel bad.

“Shit… I’m sorry we couldn’t get to them.”

“Not your fault. They knew what they were getting into when we had them join patrols. I know Owen’s taking it pretty hard.”

You want to smack her for even bringing up his name. But you don’t. You know she still may have a special place in her heart for him. You just despised him, especially after he confronted you this morning. Prick.

She’s taking her time explaining things to you. You realize she’s not ever looking away from you when she speaks, something she usually does when you stare at her. She’s watching you carefully, her beautiful eyes soft with empathy.

“Are you okay?” You question, reaching out to her closest hand. She doesn’t pull away when you grab it, bringing it into your side.

She bites her cheek, “Yeah, course I am. Just glad I got you out of there.”

The softness of her whisper brings warmth to your entire body. You didn’t care about your head, or how hot the room was, or how you may have serious repercussions when you got back to the Stadium.

What mattered is that she’s here. She’s here and she wants to be. You felt relief that she may have come to her senses about what happened between you two. Something had to of changed.

“What changed? Why are you so dead set on helping me now?”

She winces, probably not expecting you to ask such a question. She contemplates for a minute, licking her lips to prepare herself for what she’s about to say.

“I can’t stop thinking about last night. Made me realize how I really feel about you,” You’re heart races at her words. You’re amazed when she continues, “I think I was scared of having those types of emotions for you. That’s why I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to lay in your bed and overthink everything when it’s pretty simple.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “What’s simple?”

“The fact that I like you. And I have for awhile.”

It’s like the world stops and it’s just you and Abby. You can tell she’s nervous to say it, but she needed it off her chest like it was suffocating her. She lefts out a long huff, crouching down in a squat. Her unraveling braid falls onto her shoulder and you let your eyes trail it down to her chest. You notice some blood speckled in with her freckles, right near her button nose and cheekbones.

“Yeah, I like you, too.”

She smiles subtly, trying not to get too excited over the confession. But the truth was that she wanted to jump up and down in elation. She had never had someone confide in her about their feelings for her, so the idea that someone as beautiful as you could like her despite all her baggage, it gave her hope.

“I want to go home,” You grumble not sure what else to say, your thumb running over the back of her hand, “I wanna go home with you.”

“The doctor here wants to monitor you another day. I have to ship out and get back to explain to Isaac what happe-“

“No, fuck that,” You squeeze her hand, “You’re staying here with me and bringing me back to the Stadium. I’m not going back with anyone else.”

She notes the serious nature of your tone. She looks up at you with those eyes. Abby Anderson could very well be the death of you.

“I can’t refuse orders, babe,” She states, her eyes falling to your joined hands.

“Bullshit, Abby. If you tell Isaac I want you as my transport, he will let you stay. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

You’re practically panicking thinking about Abby leaving without you. With the way you feel now, you don’t want to be out without her. She felt like the safest person to have around. You can’t trust anyone else.

You start to finally bring wetness back to your mouth, “Tell him that you need to be with me.”

“You know damn well everyone will be suspicious. I need to go back. You need to stay here. Nora will take you back, you’ll be s-“

“Get me out of this fuckin’ bed right now. I’m going with you.”

You stay to move but your body feels like jello. As soon as you try to plant your feet on the ground, Abby is reaching over your legs and placing them back on the gurney.

“Babe,” She pleads, “Just… fuck. Okay fine, I’ll stay. I’ll stay. We can both answer to Isaac when we get back, I guess.”

Relief rushes over your body.

“He’s going to have a lot to say to me, that’s for sure. I failed two missions in a row that usually are a piece of cake,” You put your free hand over your forehead. You’re sweating so bad. You glance over at Abby who’s reaching over to one of the tables by your bed for a rag, “I’m not a submissive girl to him like I am to you.”

She smirks up at you. She can’t believe you admitted to being a submissive to her.

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?”

If your body didn’t feel like shit, you know you’d be grabbing Abby by her collar and hauling her up on the bed to kiss you. She made your face go hot, her piercing eyes raking down your body. You almost felt embarrassed being so vulnerable in front of her.

“Stop looking at me like that,” You warn, adjusting your butt on the hard bed.

“Like what?”

You rake your mind for a response. You settle for repeating something she said to you yesterday.

“Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute,” You try to mock her but you sound nothing like her. She laughs at your half assed imitation. She pats your head with the cold rag, getting all the sweat off your forehead.

“Get some sleep, you weirdo.”

“How ya doin’, princess?”

You shake your head at the nickname, smacking her arm with your left hand. You’re still weak and tired, but you felt a lot better with some extra rest. Abby loaded you up in a jeep as soon as you could hobble outside, and now you are heading back to the stadium. You couldn’t wait to get in your bed and sleep for three days straight.

“‘M good, thanks.”

Her smile is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. You didn’t know what this meant for you two, but you were excited to see how things would change over time for you two. Maybe you’d be put on less patrols together, but you could spend your free days and nights with her. After all this time, you could have her.

She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends.”

She slows down the car to glance over at you, “What did you mean when you asked what the hell we were doing? Yesterday when that Scar was trying to reach out to you as she was dying?”

Your heart sinks. Your mind instantly goes to betrayal. Abby is only acting like this towards you because she wants information. She wants to rat you out.

You go from thinking about your deep desire for Abby to thinking about how to protect yourself, she’s going to ruin your life. You’re instantly spiraling.

“I don’t know what you’re asking me. Are you insinuating something?”

You watch as panic spread across her face. She realizes how bad she sounds asking such a question.

“No, no,” She’s starting to stutter and use her hands as she speaks, “That’s not what I meant by it.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I’m just wondering if you feel the same guilt I feel sometimes! You know, like when you kill a someone and watch the life leave their eyes, I don’t know. Jesus.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. She wasn’t trying to double cross you, just emphasize with you. You really can not trust yourself to think the worst of everyone. Maybe because it felt like everything with Abby was too good to be true.

You wet your lips, “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I don’t like to… I never enjoy killing people. I never have.”

She can’t help but laugh a bit. “Well you’re really fuckin’ good at it.”

“Top Scar killer in all the WLF,” You wince when you say it. She doesn’t say anything just shakes her head, speeding up the jeep down an old abandoned alleyway. You weren’t too far from the entrance to the Stadium.

She clears her throat, “There’s only one person I’d really enjoy killing.”

Abby has never shared a lot about her past. You knew she and the Salt Lake crew were former Fireflies. You knew that she lost her dad not too long before she got to Seattle. But that’s all the information you managed to get out of her when you two were close before. She didn’t want to talk about herself, she’d rather hear about your tortured past.

“Who?”

“Joel Miller,” Silence takes over the cabin of the car. You have no idea who that is or why she cared to kill him. Before you can ask, she speaks up again, “The man who killed my father.”

You understand what it feels like to want revenge. But you also know what it’s like to finally get it. Most of the time you still feel bad. Nothing brings back the dead, not even the satifaction of watching their killer’s take their last breaths. You brutualized the man who killed your sister, and it never made her death any easier. But you knew that yearning was different for everyone. Maybe it would make Abby feel better.

You decide it’s best to just nod, acknowledging her desire.

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, just the sound of crackling of rocks under the SUV’s tires. When you get to the entrance of the Stadium, Abby waves and calls out to the gatekeeper. He opens the tall wired fence and lets you two pass through. As soon as Abby parks, it’s like a swarm of people surround you two. Abby gestures you to wait so she can get your door. You laugh thinking about that stupid saying some old people say.

Maybe chivalry isn’t dead.

She swings open the door, pushing aside some random guy who’s staring you down. You grab Abby’s shoulder as you ease yourself onto the concrete. You were still a bit unsteady when you walked. It was a mixture of the weakness but also Nora told you that the concussion you have is probably causing balance issues. You took her word for it.

“Top Scar killer not looking so well, now,” The guy mutters from behind Abby, “Who knows, maybe one of us can be Isaac’s favorite ass kisser!”

You don’t even know the guy and the vibe he’s giving off is making you nervous. He’s about 5’8” and stocky. Abby could take him herself, but you don’t feel the need for her to fight for your honor after everything that you two have been through in the last two days. Abby huffs out in annoyance, ensuring you’re able to stand properly. You start to walk towards the ramp that leads up to the Stadium’s main corridors. The guy is still muttering shit as Abby unloads your backpack and hers.

“What are you friends with her now, Abby?”

“Can you fuck off? Does it look like either of us are in the mood?” She spits, slinging your backpack over her shoulder. You stand and wait at the base of the ramp for her to catch up. The guy just follows her closely, interrogating her about the mission that failed. Abby just ignores him, her eyes locked on yours. Before she makes it to you, the guy asks one final question.

“What do you have a crush on her or something?”

Abby drops her backpack on the ground, and within seconds, she has the guy pinned to a truck parked near the ramp. His body makes a loud thwack when he hits the metal. Her back muscles flex as she tightens her grip. As hot as it is, you don’t feel like watching her beat someone bloody for something so dumb. You weren’t feeling your fiesty self, you just wanted to be in bed.

“Did anyone ever fuckin’ teach you manners or are you just that fuckin’ dense?” She has her teeth clenched. As you get close, you see that she’s ripping his t-shirt. Your moving slowly, but as soon as violent words are being exchanged, you firmly grab Abby’s arm. She peels her eyes away from the guy, her face still scrunched in frustration.

“Just let him talk his shit, Abs. He’s just jealous because he can’t get any pussy.”

You don’t even know why you included the last part, but it only aggravates the guy more. You aren’t very good at deescalation. You usually instigate things, it’s your specialty.

Luckily, the master of settling fights comes running down the ramp. Manny.

“Hey, you guys just got home and you’re already stirring up trouble?”

Abby still has the guy pinned, his eyes trained on your fragile frame.

Manny grabs Abby’s arms and pries her off the guy, his body blocking you away from the guy as well. He starts speaking Spanish under his breath, probably venting his frustrations about Abby and you not giving him a moment of peace.

He talks down the guy, guiding him away from you and Abby. You bend over to grab her bag and shakingly hand it back to her. She watches carefully as Manny escorts the guy further down the parking lot. With her free arm, she wraps it protectively around you. You get chills up your arms and back as you two walk into the Stadium. You’re surprised she’s showing any inkling of liking you to other people, especially her peers. You know there were probably about 10 other people in the parking lot, and they for sure saw her sticking up for you.

She drops her arm as soon as you make it to the main hallways. People glare over at you as you drudge yourself down the halls, finally making it to a staircase that would put you right in front of your room. Abby lets you start up the stairs first while she stands behind you, keeping her eyes wide in case you fall backwards. You’re relieved as you reach the last step and spot your door waiting for you.

Abby runs ahead of you, grabbing the door and wiggling the knob.

“It’s locked.”

She rolls her eyes, “I know that now. Where’s your key?”

You turn your jaw upward and gesture towards the necklace. “Here.”

Instead of making you unravel it, she lifts her hands up to your chest. Her fingers travel down from your neck to your collarbones. She’s teasing you and it’s working.

She grabs the key and toys with it for a minute, trying to release the clasp. Once she figures it out, she holds the key up like a grand prize.

“You’re so stupid, please let me in my room.”

She giggles as she sticks the key into the latch and turns it, “Patience, princess.”

Once the door clicks, she opens it for you. The cold air of your room rushes out and cools your sweaty and dirty skin. You get a sense of solace when you walk in, your body feeling a bit reenergized at the sight.

Abby walks close to you, shutting the door behind her. She shimmies off your bag, dropping her own near the door.

“You mind if I stay for a bit?”

Butterflies creep into the pit of your stomach. You turn to face her, spotting a somewhat hesitant girl picking at her cuticles.

“I was hoping you would. Maybe you could give me a bed bath, just like my nurse did.”

She nods, a smirk plastered across her freckled face.

“If you need me to, I can for sure do that,” She starts to walk over to your sink, searching for some sort of bowl or towel, “I could probably do a better job.”

You stumble over to the side of your bed, kicking off your boots with a grunt. You know exactly where this is going, and even with your weakened body, you want her so bad.

She continues to search around, finding a large bowl and a couple of your wash rags. She fills the bowl with the warmest water as you peel off some of your clothes, leaving you in just your underwear and tank top.

“A better job, huh?”

She finds a bar of soap near your shampoo bottles. She sniffs it before she bounds over to you.

“Yeah,” She places the bowl on your side table, dropping a rag inside it to soak it, “I think I know your body a little bit better than Nora. Especially after the other night.”

She can’t talk to you like this, especially now that you’re in your underwear. You scoot over on the bed to allow her to sit as she rings out the blue rag. She lathers a bit of soap on it before she starts with your arms.

She grabs your wrist delicately, lifting it so she can clean the dust and dirt off. You watch her so intently, watching her wipe you down. When she finishes one arm, she does the other. She takes her time, tilting it back and forth to ensure she got every side.

“You want me to do your legs next?”

You smile as she soaks the towel again and ring it out. “You can do whatever you want, Abs.”

She raises her eyebrows as she creeps further down the bed. She kicks off her shoes, settling herself between your slightly spread legs.

“This bringing you back?” You question, slightly adjusting yourself so your legs get closer to her sides. She shakes her head sheepishly, grabbing your right ankle.

“Hmm, maybe,” She traces your legs with the rag, using her other colder hand to rub in the wet areas, “If you weren’t so weak, I’d treat you just as well as the other night.”

Even in your broken state, you can’t help yourself. “Easier to control me when I’m like this.”

She chuckles, shaking her head, “That’s taking advantage of you, and that’s not my style.”

I guess now that she confessed her feelings for you, you had to deal with a softer Abby. One that wouldn’t take control of you in the public showers. You watch as she softly runs the lavender scented towel up and down your bruised and battered legs. She is focused, not looking at you, but her eyes trailing up and down from your thighs to your ankles.

You sit up further, leaning forward and raising your fingers down to her chin. You tilt her focus to your gaze.

“What if I want you to? Ya’ know, give you my consent?”

Her eyes darken as she settles back a bit, making your hand fall from her face. She tenses up her shoulders before rolling them back, easing herself into the idea of getting between your legs again. You smile watching her do the mental gymnastics.

Her hand settles back onto your thigh, “You’re so desperate.”

You know you got her.

Without saying another word, her hand travels up to your underwear. She softly places her hand over your mound, her thumb tracing your clothed slit. You lay back as wetness pools in the spot she’s touching, your body heating up naturally.

Before she goes any further, she pulls away and plops the rag into the warm water on your side table.

She leans forward towards you, repositioning her entire body by propping herself on her elbows right in front of your core. It was hot watching the girl you were obsessed with settling herself, still fully clothed, before your heat. You could cum at the sight alone.

She rubs small circles right where your eager clit was through your panties. Before you can even moan out for her, she slips past the fabric and dips her pointer finger into your core. As soon as she does that, it feels like the coil may snap. You didn’t even realize how horny she has you. Maybe it was the anticipation or maybe it was the fact that this time you knew her true feelings for you. Hate sex was hot, but sex when you know she’s plagued with thoughts of you when you’re not even around, that was even better.

You don’t expect her next move. Instead of sliding your panties off, she uses minimal strength to just rip them in half.

As soon as you’re fully exposed for her, she turns into an animal. She mewls at your glistening slit.

“All for me?” She questions before leaning in to pepper kisses all along the wet trail. You can’t help but whimper desperately at the action.

“Yes, Abs. All for you.”

She flattens her tongue, moving further into you. Her actions are painfully slow, taking her time to drink you up. You instinctively try to close your legs together when she starts to move faster, being overwhelmed by her maneuvers. As soon as you try to move, she’s using her strong arms to hold you down. Your legs are practically pinned to the bed, her right hand still sticky from your center.

She shakes her head back and forth, creating a whole new feeling in your stomach. You don’t even think about how loud you’re being for her, not caring if the older guy next to you hears how loud you’re getting for Abby fucking Anderson.

For not being with women often, Abby knew exactly how to treat your pussy. She decides to change it up and add her fingers back into the equation. Once her index and middle finger enter you, you know that familiar feeling heating up your stomach.

“Abby, fuck, don’t stop.”

And she doesn’t. Instead she quickens her mistrations, her lips enveloping your clit and her fingers fucking you faster. You reach down, grabbing her braid and the crown of her head and push her further into you as your orgasm crashes down. She drinks you down, taking everything you gave her.

She pulls away from you, her face wet with your slick.

“Such a good girl for me,” She continues to play with you, her fingers remaining in your heat, “Do you need me to stop? Or do you want me to give it to you like I did before?”

You smirk as you glance towards the toy that you tucked back into your side table.

“It’s in there,” You croak out, “Need you to.”

She reaches over you, her body pressed against your stomach as she opens the top drawer and grabs the strap. Your stomach is reeling in anticipation, ready to watch Abby on top you.

When she gets it out, she rolls off the bed completely. You watch as she strips off her shirt, leaving her bra on. You still are in disbelief of her body, her muscles highlighted perfectly by the glisten of sweat. She keeps her underwear on but you crave to see how wet she is.

“Take the underwear off,” You say, reaching out to touch her toned stomach, “Wanna see all of you.”

She puts the strap on, ignoring your request.

“I’m not taking any demands from you right now, sweetheart. You take what I give you.”

You loved seeing her be dominant. Seeing the appendage hang from her center makes you throb. She gets back on top of you, caging your body in with her strong arms. She nudges your nose with hers, teasing you by keeping her lips inches away from yours.

“Need you, Abs.”

She captures your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth. Her lips aren’t the only thing moving into you, her hips grind into your open core. The plastic cock does not enter you, but the mixture of her kissing you and grinding is enough to send you into maddening moans.

Her swollen lips pull away, her eyes dark as she lines herself up with your opening. She drags the cock up and down, gathering your slick before easing it inside. You see stars as it stretches you, your voice hearse and gutteral. Abby eats it up. She zeros in on watch it ease out of you and split you wide open. You’re so wet, the squelching sends her to another dimension. She settles into a pace that was agnoizingly slow, taking her time with your body. She reaches behind your legs and bends them so they wrap around her waist. The new angle allows her to hit you in all the right places.

Your orgasm is building with each stroke. She’s smiling while your mouth is set in an “o” shape, loving the reactions she was getting out of you.

“Jesus, taking me so fuckin’ well, baby,” She mewls, her hands caressing up your sides to grab onto a very important part of your body that she hardly played with this time around. You’re not wearing a bra under your tank top, so when her hands make it under the white fabric, her fingers pinch at your nipples. “You love when I fuck you like this don’t you?”

“Yes, Abby, please. I need to cum.”

She leans forward, bringing her greedy lips to yours. Since your lips are already open, her tongue enters your mouth. You suck at it, trying to get her to pay attention to your pleas. She retracts back, fucking into you harder.

“Cum for me, then, you little slut.”

The words send you overboard. You’re falling, crashing. The waves of pleasure take over every achy muscle, your body jerking forward into Abby’s sweaty upper body. She wraps her arms around you, fucking into you still as you fall apart. You don’t know the words you’re saying, you’re just loudly whispering into her ear.

Once your vision clears up, you look to the side to check your position out in the mirror ontop of your dresser. You looked like a fucked out mess, but Abby is the most beautiful thing you ever did see.

You’re trying to catch your breath, your body feeling even weaker than before. Fucking someone when you had a concussion was probably not the best idea, but god damn did every part of you feel like it was buzzing. Abby stands up, her legs wobbly from being on her knees so long.

“Do you want me to make you cum?”

She smiles at your question, but she shakes her head. She yanks down the strap, opening the side drawer and tossing it in.

“No, I just wanted to treat you. You can repay the favor when you’re feeling better.”

You start to laugh, throwing yourself back into your pillows. As soon as Abby starts to crawl back into bed, there’s a loud knock at your door. You’re both half naked, so the scramble for clothes is instanteous. You grab the first pair of pants you see and as you’re yanking them up your legs, you realize they are Abby’s.

“Coming in!”

It’s Isaac’s voice. Your stomach drops as the knob turns and you and Abby stand completely still in your spots. Her pants don’t fit you well at all, so hold them over your private area to block any eyes from it.

He doesn’t even make eye contact with you, he instantly meets Abby’s panicked gaze.

“What the hell?” He turns to you and immediately turns his back, “Well I see that you’re feeling better.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Yeah, can you uh, give us a minute?”

He doesn’t say anything, just opens the door and slams it behind him. You’re appalled that he even opened the door without confirmation of that being okay. Your eyes snap over to Abby, who’s look of fear turns into rage. You yank off her pants and toss them to her.

“We’re fucked,” She mumbles, putting her clothes on. You search a nearby dresser drawer for some sweatpants and pull down your ragged tank top. You look back at Abby to check to make sure she’s clothed before you head back to the door and let Isaac in.

You nod at her before grabbing the handle and pulling the door open. When you meet his gaze, he doesn’t look impressed. You are shocked to see another figure beside him. Manny.

“Hey there,” Manny greets, his eyes showing a bit of hesitance. “We good to come in now?”

You don’t say anything, just open the door wider for them to step through the threshold. Abby stands by your desk, her arms crossed. She tries to keep an emotionless expression, but you can tell she’s pissed. And maybe a bit nervous.

“Just checking in to see how you are,” Isaac says, his pacing leading him to one of the chairs in the corner of your room. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Just a concussion. Some bruises. Should be good to get back on after some of the nurses here clear me.”

You try to sound confident but you’re still somewhat dazed from the sex you just had. You lean against the beam in the center of your room, trying your best not to look over to see what Abby is doing. You could still feel your cum dripping down your leg.

“Yeah I don’t think you’ll be getting back on any time soon,” Isaac says, his demeanor changing towards you, “I still don’t trust you. And now you’re sleeping with Abby? You think I don’t see what you’re trying to do?”

Your heart sinks, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Manny clears his throat, “Owen told us you were questioning the mission. That you weren’t pulling your punches. Letting some Scars live.”

“Well, he’s a fuckin’ liar!” Your voice is cracking, unsure of how to defend yourself. You were pissed at Owen and you knew that emotion would turn into vengeance. They can’t ostracize you for something like that. They can’t kill you for being empathetic. Can they?

“She never said that,” Abby finally speaks up, “I was there. Owen has it wrong.”

“Abby…” Isaac says in a warning tone, “You better not be lying for her.”

Abby scoffs, “When have I ever lied to you? Never. I am not lying for her. Owen was the one who refused your orders and got us all to leave. He said we go or we die. You shouldn’t be reprimanding her. She told him we had a job to do.”

Isaac halts in his rebuttal, thinking of what his next move should be.

Manny crosses his arms. You’re so pissed, you want to slap him. How dare he go against you and be here to watch Isaac try to accuse you of something like this? What did you ever do to him?

“Is this true?” Isaac questions, standing up to get closer to your slightly hunched over frame.

You don’t even hesitate, knowing this was all going to fall back on Owen. You wanted to see how that ended for him.

“Yes. I knew I could not let you down another time. I would never risk something like that. I’m loyal to you and this cause. I am sorry if I let you down again. I wanted to finish the job, I really did.”

You were an outstanding liar. And now you know, Abby was, too. She also had your back. Which made you like her even more.

Isaac tries to sense any deception but there’s nothing written on either of your faces to indicate that.

“Report back to me in two days,” He says to you with a very stern voice, “and Anderson, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. You’re first patrol out.”

When he’s satisfied with his interrogation, he turns to Manny.

“Well, I guess you were right about one thing.”

Manny furrows his eyebrows at the slightly shorter man, unsure what he’s talking about. “Sir?”

“They are fucking each other, but they aren’t liars,” He turns back to you and Abby, giving you two a kurt nod.

You cross your arms, watching Isaac leave the room and bump into Manny as he does. You don’t even want to deal with him right now, so you wave him out, not saying anything to him. You would deal with him later. Right now, you need a back rub and sleep. And that’s exactly what you intended to get when that door slammed on Manny’s ass on his way out.

#abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby from tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #the last of us 2 #gracieheartspedro #the last of us #tlou part 2 #the last of us part ii #tlou2

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kiwanopie · 2 years

Text

“What does it look like to see crime lord!kiyoomi blow up at someone threatening the reader?”

cw: mention of bathroom (reader has to number one lmao), character death, death by suffocation

wc: 2.4k

His head immediately turns when he hears your voice calling out for him.

You’re breathtaking in your ball attire. Glowing under the balmy haze of ballroom crystal lights as you duck into his gaze. You’re radiant, and It’s a chore to look anywhere else as Kiyoomi scans the large hall, leaning in to get a better listen at your voice. “What’s up, angel?”

“Can you come with me to the bathroom?” You whisper. “I’m too nervous to go by myself.”

Kiyoomi pauses to delegate a pensive moment. He was supposed to mingle with OneSource’s people to check in on his annual contract bonding. ‘Course there’s no reason to think that anything has changed - they’d have a death wish to pull out from something like Sakusa Enterprises - but it’s etiquette, and it’s still important to maintain general communication. At the very least uphold his reputation as a studious businessman.

He traces the fullness of your eyelashes from where you look up at him. “Mhm.”

Kiyoomi reaches for your hand and leads you to the laboratory.

He’s not the least bit embarrassed to be leading his wife into the otherwise empty women’s bathroom. And even if it weren’t, he doubts he’d be any less unfazed. - Impassive still as he watches you glide your way into the cleanest stall and close the door behind you. Kiyoomi leans against the sink as he waits for you to finish your business.

“Can you turn the sink on? I don’t want you to hear me tinkle.”

“Tinkle?” Kiyoomi snorts as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Baby, I hear you tinkle every day in our bathroom. Just let it out.”

“Yeah, but this is a public place,” He can hear you pout. “And I’m already nervous. I don’t want you to make fun of me for spotting.”

Spotting. He quietly titters again. I mean, he’s brushed his teeth with you planted on the bowl before, a little piss staggering wouldn’t even faze him. But still he grabs a paper towel, and uses it to turn the nodule on one of the sinks.

“Thank you!” The better portion of your dress lifts over your heels.

It’s only a few moments that it takes till he’s hearing the telltale sound of an automatic toilet whir into the room. Even with his eyes planted on his phone, he sees you neaten your dress back down in his peripheral. Dark blues turn velvety in the bathroom lights, and pretty spaghetti straps fall loosely on your shoulders; and with the way your hair so lively shines as you walk, he’s nearly convinced that you’re an angel.

His eyes light up with familiar adoration as you approach him at the sink, the smile you pass him is enough to turn his cheeks flowery. “How long is this party gonna last for?”

“Till two, but we can leave earlier than that if you want.”

“Are you having fun?” The soap in your palms audibly squishes as you lather your hands.

Kiyoomi sighs through his nose. “I’m making good connections, but you know me. Huge crowds like these start to break me out in hives. The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”

You ring your hands in the sink. “That makes you and I both then. There’s so many important people here that I can’t help but worry. I don’t want you or anyone else to get hurt just cause some bastard has a vendetta.”

You move for the air dryer on the side of him. “I saw Onslaught and Shinobu wandering the halls together. Those two dudes make it desperately apparent that they despise us.”

“They’re attention seekers, angel. They - No, don’t use that.”

You look at him curiously as he moves you by the arm to the paper towel dispenser. “Those things are disgusting, they’re riddled with germs.”

He snatches a few out for you. “I doubt anyone here has ever bothered to disinfect these.”

You simper as you finally wipe your hands down. “Oh. Well, thank you for looking out for me, baby.”

“Always.”

Kiyoomi slides his phone in his pocket as you move for the mirror again. “They’re attention seekers,” He starts again. “They know what my status is, they know that you and I are the most prevalent family running the underground business nowadays. Anybody who’s anybody should know that the Sakusa’s have owned the better half of Asia for decades. - It’s easy for them to stay relevant when they’re feuding with the most powerful empire in the game; regardless of what risk they’re putting on their lives by doing that.”

You eye yourself in the mirror. “They’re cockroaches. They’re just feeding off us for a little bit of business talk. What will it take for them to understand that business doesn’t even exist if it doesn’t come from you in some way.”

The little boost to his ego already turns him pink, but the way you spin in the mirror has his lips curling over his teeth. “Yeah? You’re absolutely right.”

His reflection mirrors the way he reaches out for you, pulling you closer in his direction, and softly pinching your cheeks with his calloused fingers. “But it’s nothing you’ve gotta worry your pretty head about, huh? - You’re really cute..”

You pout up at him. “What if they pick a fight with us?”

Kiyoomi kisses his teeth. Uncoupling the little grip he has on your cheek to smooth it over with his thumb, and let his blithe gaze settle on the dip in your lips. “As if they’d be so stupid. Self preservation reigns, angel. They all know better.”

You give him somewhat of an unimpressed look. “Death isn’t the price you pay for slighting us, Omi.”

“You’re right,” He hums. “It’s the price they pay for slighting you.”

You lean into the kiss Kiyoomi presses gingerly onto your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Omi.”

“So much.”

“Show me.”

He leans in for another one. A little firmer, somewhat tailed by a quiet hum but the way you move forward to deepen it has him openly sighing into your mouth. Long, savory, tender lip smacking. - Smoothing his grip under your jaw till you’re all but making out like a couple of teenagers. That’s how you make him feel - like a teenager. Jittery and palm sweaty. Meekend as you moan into the kiss and he’s rapt by butterflies. Breathless when you part from him and still overdosing on that contact high.

God, “I love you so fucking much.” He sighs.

“I love you so much more.”

Kiyoomi doesn’t think something like that could be remotely possible.

_____

Kiyoomi pushes your seat in for you as you both take your spots at the grand table.

There are many very important faces here. From the face of your renowned husband, to well known yakuza leaders, - High ranking members of The Sinaloa Cartel, Solntsevskaya Bratva, Sun Yee On, and so forth. With this many dangerous people at one table, most controlling near global power, it isn’t unheard of to feel a little out of your wits. You can’t show your fear as much as you want to, sitting at this table with your husband means sharing the collective power he has - and representing it as well. Much like the other wives and spouses sitting with their respective criminal lovers, you keep your cool with a natural grace. Still pretty even as your palms start to sweat.

Ken Shōhei, leader of the sixth generation yellow fangs, raises his glass to propose a toast. He glitters with shined jewels and gaudy rings as they reflect in the chandelier light. You glance at his wife before glancing at him. Catching a less than friendly evil eye that chills you straight to the blue bone. If you had to guess, they’re friends of Onslaught. If you had to guess again, you’d say it’s probably upsetting to realize you’re not the hottest foreign wife in the room anymore.

“Beautiful people of this nation - of your respective nations,” He begins. “Let us take this moment to reflect on the novelty of such business making and our untaintable honor. To the choices we’ve made thus far that has led us here. The chances we take that - understandably shouldn’t work out in our favor - but has. Our fortune, our hard work, the allies we’ve made today and the friends we’ll make tomorrow. I propose a toast to us. To our virtues, and to our decency. Let us all come together and celebrate ourselves.”

His wife smiles as she picks up her glass. “To ourselves!”

The rest of the table brandish their cups and follow suit. “To ourselves!”

The chatter continues as most of them take a quick sip to their glasses.

Or well, all except for you and Kiyoomi, who’s got the flute halfway to his lips before you stop him in his tracks. “Wait, baby.”

“Hm?”

You lean in to whisper softly. “These glasses don’t smell clean.”

“Hm?” Kiyoomi furrows as he dips his nose in his champagne flute. “They don’t-? Oh. Ew.”

He reaches for your glass. “Don’t even touch that. We’ll sanitize our hands after they-“

Someone’s choking.

Someone’s hacking and gasping for air right in front of you. Loud enough to startle as your head whips in the direction of whoever it is coughing up a lung across the table, and Kiyoomi instinctively reaches for you - pulling you by the bicep as he prepares to step out of his seat.

It’s an appropriate knee jerk reaction for what actually unfolds in front of you. Kiyoomi forces you to your feet as Shōhei’s body crashes into the fine cloth of the grand table and sends the majority of their plates crashing down with him. His shrill wheezing cuts into the silence that befalls the group of leaders as they stare down at him. Twitching and flailing before finally seizing up and you all watch in horror as he eventually goes limp.

You all watch in dread as his wife follows. Nithya, Maciej, Jalmari, Takashi, and Yuina, dropping to the floor in similar fashion. Some fall back in their seats in an effort to save themselves, some face plant into their plates before unceremoniously hitting the ground, but they all meet the same fate. Foaming at the mouth and blue from asphyxiation, all poisoned by something lethal likely slipped into their drinks.

Kiyoomi is the first to break the long stunned silence, calling over one of his underlings to meet him at the table.

He shoves his drink in his face. “Drink this.”

The man does so without hesitation.

After a few long moments the faceless scout looks generally unharmed which immediately raises red flags, but it isn’t over yet.

He hands him his wife’s drink. “And this?”

Another sip, another few long moments.

And then he’s falling to the ground.

You both stare in sickened shock as he flails on the ground just as the other victims did. Gasping for air as his spit foams over and the vessels in his eyes burst from suffocation. He’s dead within a few tortuous minutes, and Kiyoomi all but turns blue.

He nearly breaks his back with how quickly he turns for you, already frantically cupping your face in his hands. “Did you eat anything on the table? Have you eaten anything?”

There are tears in your eyes, rightfully. “N-No.”

He’s shaking. It’s a rare moment of weakness for the revered kingpin. One of the most frightening, if not the most frightening man in all of Asia - glassy eyed at the realization of his lover coming so close to death. He’s pink under eyes, pupils twitching back and forth as he frantically scans your face for any sign of change. The men and women surrounding the two of you take pause. It’s clear this is a shock to you both. That the man in question would rather kill over than put his wife in harm’s way, especially one so gruesome. ~ But there’s layers to this collective suspension shared among the room. Shock, confusion, apprehensity.

Fear.

As expected Kiyoomi’s reaction is less than pleased.

“Miya!”

At the sound of Kiyoomi’s booming voice, Atsumu races into the ballroom and up to the table. “Boss- Whoa, holy shit.”

“Bring me the heads of everyone in the kitchen,” His voice is vitriolic. It sends shivers up the spines of every living body in here. “All except for the chef. Pack him up in the shuttle.”

The boldness of the demand knocks Shinobu out of his daze, he’s kissing his teeth not even a moment later. “Don’t just start giving orders like you-“

“Shut the fuck up, Shinobu. Be thankful I don’t start picking from the table!”

One of the other businessmen at the table speaks meekly. “W-Wait. Let’s just... Everyone just-“

“Enough!” Kiyoomi narrows his eyes. And even to the most lethal of men in the room do they quaver at the venom in his voice. Sakusa Kiyoomi is not known for being an angry man. A spiteful man, sure. Cold and callous and cruel, on his worst days a little psychotic. There’s a scowl on his face more often than not, a sneer almost in the way he speaks to his adversaries and enemies alike. He’s known for being a mean son of a bitch - the meanest, really. But not angry. Not down right irate. Not so wrathful in the way he addresses the crowd around him.

“Someone here,” He breathes. “Has made an enormous lapse in judgment. If not to the leaders we just lost at this table; than to threaten me - to threaten my wife, my family,”

He’s firm yet earnest in his efforts to keep you behind him, nearly yanking you back by your arm but you bump into his firm back with one of his hands fastened over your waist. “You must’ve all forgotten that there is no one on this earth who I can’t get my hands on - especially for something so despicable. Whether they're in that kitchen or in this room, every second of their worthless life is borrowed from me. - Goro!”

The host of the ball swallows as he answers quickly. “Yes, Sakusa-san, sir?”

“Get me the names of everyone who’s been in or out of this place within the last forty eight hours, not a minute short.”

“Yes, of course.”

Kiyoomi nods his head for his men to follow as he drags his wife out by the hand.

#crime lord!sakusa kiyoomi #crime au!kiyioomi #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq x reader

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