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tteokdoroki · 5 months

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THE PERFECT SHADE OF PURPLE - suguru geto.

✩ — about. “i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.” suguru geto never thought he’d end up here. in a new city with a new job and a new life. he never wanted to lose his little sister to his best friend. he never wanted to replace her. never wanted to fuck someone who looked exactly like her. but here you are, and geto can’t help but want you the same way he wants her. he just had to get that off his chest… ( 11.4K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! dark content, nsfw, smut, hurt-comfot, open ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au (read part one here !), bakery!au, italics mean the characters are speaking in japanse, situationships, co-dependency ( on suguru geto ), manipulation, gaslighting, praise, use of oni-chan/nii chan/imouto, fingering (f!receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, creampies, bilingual!geto, japanese speaking + fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hehe hi everyone!!! pls im reposting this again :( it was written as a gift for @todorosie and the very idea spawned from her love for geto in my AITA gojo fic !! it’s sort of a continuation and set in the same universe so you might need to read to understand the plot. special thanks to @antizenin for beta reading n helping me come up with some ideas !! enjoy guys, mwah mwah - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

look, i know it’s bad… but my adopted sister and i were always close. she looked up to me and needed me for everything, up until a month ago when she betrayed my trust and fucked my childhood best friend. i got a therapist, went low contact and moved to a completely different country in order to avoid w everything. but nothing helped, i think of my sister every day and sometimes… i picture bad, dirty things. recently i met this girl, she’s the spitting image of my adoptive little sister. they look the same, act the same — i think i’ve started falling for her. i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.

TLDR: i’m fucking and have feelings for a girl that’s a carbon copy of my adopted younger sibling.

the city of new york is meant to be the city of dreams.

at any given moment, your fate can change. anything can happen here, you can make it big and live out your life or you can go home and lead one of regret. suguru geto feels like neither are true for him. the bustling city and flashing lights, busy concrete streets and honking taxis bring the dark haired man anything but joy. suguru isn’t happy here, in new york, despite all the wonders that it holds — irregardless of the grand job opportunity he has waiting for him just around the corner.

suguru geto had the chance of a lifetime to develop his career as a criminal defence lawyer in one of the most opportune cities in the world. his dream since he was old enough to understand the wrongs of the world.

but that’s merely not enough to keep him content, to make him want to stay.

he doesn’t want to go home either, he’s sure he would hate himself for thattoo. it would be a waste of suguru’s talents to return to japan prematurely, with its nauseating air and sense of betrayal that follows him everywhere he goes. home is supposed to be where one is happiest and safest — it’s where his family is, where he was raised and first opened his eyes. but for the lawyer, japan no longer serves to comfort him and only constantly reminds the man of his little sister, who’d fucked his best friend just a month prior.

that very instance was enough reason for him to leave the country in the first place — he had to get out, had to escape the very fact that haunted him day and night.

like any other adult with a shit load of trauma, suguru invests in the best therapist his money can buy — especially now that he can’t spoil is younger sister with it. the older woman with her stuffy office, beady eyes and chipped painted nails had prescribed the man with a short break, a change of pace from the life he was used to, to give himself the grace and time to heal from the heartbreak of losing the two most important people in his life. his best friend, satoru gojo, and his adoptive little sister.

he had no idea where gojo was now, thirty days later, and suguru knew his little sister had probably moved out of their hometown by now to kick start her career. so even if all of that meant that suguru geto could go home…he wouldn’t. he would use the vastness of new york to give himself the breathing room he needed to heal, fill his bloodstream with fresh oxygen so that it would clot and cover up his fresh wounds of betrayal, turn scabs into scars and let him slowly recover.

at least that’s what his therapist had told him to do — in the suffocating purple walls of her office.

yet, so far, suguru’s escape to new york hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. every corner of the city painfully reminds him of the hole in his heart, where his innocent little sister should be. after her graduation he’d planned on taking her here as a reward for all of her hard work, but now, suguru faces his own bitter reality — every landmark has her face etched into its side, skyscrapers and their glass windows refract the light of her smile, while famous dinner spots tie to the endless list of reservations she’d reminded suguru to make. hell, even his daily routine of hailing infamous yellow taxi cabs reminds him of her precious excitement to go.

new york was a city big enough for both geto siblings, but too large for just the one.

it’s a wonder that suguru has been able to live without his sister for this long — it’s only been a month but he’s spent his entire life looking out for her. protecting her. he hardly knows what to do with himself now that he has all this extra time.

suguru knew that she was way too dependent on him, it was bad — he was painfully aware of that. but he couldn’t help it, she needed someone to protect her and nurture her, she needed someone to teach her about the dangers of the world. she needed her big brother. perhaps if the dark haired man had been less protective of his sister and given her some sort of independence… then maybe he wouldn’t miss her so much, he wouldn’t have lost his best friend as collateral damage in the process. he would still have the two of them, and she could be happy with gojo.

the guilt of what ifs and what could have beens tirelessly weigh down suguru’s heart at the thought — he caused this. this rift between the soul-bonded pair. if he had raised her better, let her spread her wings like a free bird, then he would still have her in his life.

at this point, he’s realised something dire. suguru can’t live without her, his little sister. her bright eyes in the morning and the sweet tune to her voice when she calls out for him — it’s weird, it’s bad…how much he misses and needs her. borderlining on strange, it’s only now that suguru realises how unhealthy their dynamic as siblings had been. how reliant he was on his baby sister to need him. it should have never been that way, he shouldn’t need her so desperately to function. keeping her under such a close watch was probably what drove her into the arms of satoru in the first place.

the concrete wilderness of suguru’s new home provides no relief from these epiphanies and the chambers of his heart that slowly seem to be dying without his sister. instead he feels trapped in his own addiction, as if he’s going through the withdrawal after dependency on drugs.

whenever suguru feels immense waves of guilt, like a tsunami that might pull him under and replace the clean air in his lungs with the murky water of his own sour thoughts and emotions; whenever he misses home a little too much; whenever he feels like the world his crashing down on him once more — his therapist and her purple nails tapping against her clip board comes to mind. she tells suguru to take a walk, especially when he’s overcome with thoughts of the situation back in december. when his chest feels too tight and feels like picking up the phone and calling his sister before he’s ready to.

so geto does just that, lugging on his winter coat as he prepares to take a walk downtown while the sun sets.

suguru tends to think that his therapist is full of shit.

she believes in the colour purple, she believes that there is purpose and meaning in concepts like colours that are based on fact and science. the light reflects, and people see colour.

as she had explained to the man in an hour long session just two weeks ago, purple is supposed to be the colour of healing; though to suguru, purple makes him feel sick. it’s everywhere, in the lavander-ish off-white walls of his new york-rented apartment, the flowers in the stalls on his way to work, the skies at night. suguru thought he was a rational man, that he was calm and collected — able to see the reasons behind everything he comes across…but he still doesn’t understand the significance of colours like purple and its connection to healing.

all suguru knows is that he did like the pretty hollow shade that formed a ring around satoru’s bright blue eyes. of course, after having the shit beaten out of him for touching what belonged to suguru. for corrupting his innocent baby sister.

aside from that, tonight’s walk is mostly uneventful, full of couples getting ready for date night and business people heading home to their happy families for the night. suguru despises them, strangers on the street minding their own business. he hates these passer-bys for their happiness, a joy he can no longer experience. going home. it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

he misses his family. the warmth and love from his mother, the poor jokes from his father… the looks of adoration and hugs from his sister. it’s not fair. he shouldn’t have had to give that up because of the selfish actions of his ex-best friend.

suguru decides to turn back and head for his apartment when the street lamps start to flicker and turn on.

however, on his commute, a familiar scent tickles his senses and brushes over his nose. the man finds himself following, enchanted by rich flavours that he recognises from his youth — sweet red bean and spicy curries overlay the city’s natural smells and suguru makes an attempt to track it down. like a fool, he sprints after the scent like a hound dog tracking a hunt and stops a few strides short of a quaint japanese bakery with a set of deep indigo flowers climbing up it’s worn down exterior.

suguru recognises the flowers to be shobu. irises.

standing before the sliding doors, geto inhales, overwhelmed and overcome with emotion. the sweet smell triggers memories of home and how his parents would take him and his sister out to get treats when they were small. how that became a tradition for the geto siblings when they were old enough to go out on their own.

he remembers how his sister would beg him for a box of sakura mochi every time they went, and how he would so easily relent — even if it meant spending all of that week’s pocket money. suguru is so carried away with his thoughts that he hardly notices himself taking steps into the bakery, or lining up at the counter, or you.

calling him up to the counter.

you’re a pretty girl. that’s the first thing suguru notices. your eyes are beautiful, a deep brown that reminds him of roasted chestnuts and warm chocolates, your face is round with a soft edge of youth. the uniform that you wear hugs every dip and curve of your body and the braids you have are lengthy and black, perfectly framing your face. when you speak, your voice carries gentle dulcet notes that make suguru’s heart flutter — like music to his ears.

you are one thousand percent suguru geto’s type and everything about you, this little bakery attendant, reminds suguru of his younger sister.

right then and there, everything clicks into place for him.

“sir, can i get you anything?” you ask him kindly, not wanting to push or scare away a potential customer. nor pressure the handsome stranger, since he’s holding up your line. “sir?” you repeat, finally garnering his attention after squirming under his intense stare.

not that you mind being stared at by him, for this particular customer is right up your alley.

from his milky skin, desperate to be marked, to his lengthy dark tresses that you’re dying to pull at and tug. his jaw is angular, sharp enough to the point where you fear you would cut yourself should you have the chance to touch it. despite the razor edges to his features, he looks kind…almost wistful, at most. a quality that does nothing to calm the hungry flame catching light in your lower tummy.

the two of you remain admiring one another until a customer in the queue clears their throat impatiently — causing both of you to jump.

“s-sorry,” geto mumbles the apology quickly, his pale cheeks tinged with a subtle pink despite how hot they feel. he’s suddenly become all too aware of the line that he’s holding up. one that he’s not even supposed to be in, since he’d walked in here on instinct anyway. his dark, narrow eyes sweep the counter in search for something, anything to order so that he doesn’t look like a complete idiot in front of you or the rest of the customers.

more specifically, yourself.

“i would recommend the sakura mochi,” then, like an angel sent from the heavens, you try your luck in conversing with suguru in japanese. his nervous and skittish gaze shoots up to your face, shoulders sagging in relief and familiarity. you truly are like a piece of home. like his little sister. suguru likes that more than a normal man should. “they’re popular amongst our customers, it’s taken our owner years to perfect her recipe with the ingredients here. especially since leaving japan.”

suguru grins and nods, spotting the dessert he’s so accustomed to buying in the display cabinet. his heart lurches, yearning for his little sister. “these?” he whispers to you, the syllables of his native language curling around his tongue naturally. “they look just like the ones from home.”

there’s a sparkle in your eyes when he responds, and you continue to speak to him in sugary tones. “they taste just as goodtoo, i promise!”

“then, i’ll take a box.”

“how many? they come in boxes of four, eight and sixteen pieces.”

“just the four, please.”

taking your tongs from the metal counter behind the cabinet, you fish out four of the best pieces of sakura mochi and tentatively place them into a pre-folded cardboard box for the handsome customer. as he dives deep into his pocket for his card to pay, you quickly add an extra piece — uttering something about it being on the house under your breath.

the action leaves both of you bashful and suguru taps his card on the machine you’ve set up for him to pay. “ah, thank you…” suguru searches for your name in the candy scented air and you tap your badge with a cute acrylic nail to draw attention to your name which he breathes out in a husky tone, failing to mask its curious lilt as he returns to english.

“no worries, have a good evening, sir.” you giggle shyly, still managing to bid him farewell.

on his way home, suguru can’t help but to replay the entire interaction in his head over and over again. in his brief three minutes of meeting you, you’d managed to fix the hole in his heart, help it beat properly again. you’re just like her, his little sister, and that is a dangerous fact.

he reaches his apartment with a flushed face, feeling a little flustered, but a lot better than he was before the start of his walk.

after work, a few days later, geto finds himself back in front of the bakery, working up the courage to go inside and see you.

no matter how hard he tried and how much of his work he tried to throw himself into — suguru couldn’t get the vision of you out his head. your saccharine laugh haunted him as he reviewed case files, your timid smile chased him through his lunch break and your small act of kindness (speaking with him in Japanese) has him all worked up and blushing by the time he’s able to clock out for the day.

the dark haired man feels insane, he knows that this is weird — projecting the image of his adoptive sister onto you, but like a man on drugs he can’t seem to quit. he needs to get his fix. he needs to see you again. entering the bakery once again is like stepping into a new domain, and suguru damn near forgets his simple plan to talk to you. order sakura mochi, say thank you, and leave. while he waits in the queue, his courage mounts in slow stacks and anxiety fades, but by the time he’s up front and face to face with you again — suguru’s brain is completely wiped of every word he was going to say.

“ah, it’s you again!” you greet him in japanese once more, instinctively reaching to brush your braids out of your face in order to look more presentable to the handsome stranger who’s been plaguing your thoughts as well. suguru thinks you’re cute, regardless of the rice flour smeared across your cheeks and the various mysterious (though surely tasty) stains that decorate your uniform. he even finds it endearing, the way that you share the same nervous gesture of playing with the ends of your braids like his little sister. “i was just wondering when you were going to come in from the… mmm, cold? you’ve been standing and… uh! staring from out there for a while.” you continue to tease the man warmly in his native tongue, choosing your words carefully and avoiding eye contact with him while you prep the tongs for his order. “what can i get for you today?”

so much for not humiliating himself in front of the pretty girl. “i’m sorry… i’ll just take some sakura mochi again,” suguru begins, this time in english to spare you the trouble of overthinking everything that you say. “i was trying to figure out how to do this,” he places a wad of cash on the counter while you prepare his order. your chocolatey eyes blow wide, sweet glazed lips parting softly at the mere sight. you’re sure there’s enough money in the stack to cover an entire week’s worth of your wages and if a stranger can just give away such a large amount… it makes you wonder what he’s even doing at a humble place like this. “it’s a tip from last time. i never got to thank you.”

“oh… i was just doing my job!” you stammer out politely and prepare to reject the tip, but suguru refuses to let you refuse his gift — forcefully pushing the ‘tip’ over the edge of the glass. he really couldn’t help but to give the money to you, hardly fighting the urge to spoil you with cash like he would with his little sister. besides, the man earned more than enough to drop it on you without putting a dent in his pocket.

“you did more than that… just the simple act of kindness in conversing with me, a stranger, in japanese. that was nice of you.” suguru counters. “thank you. how did you know?”

you work on preparing a thin and white cardboard box for his order before walking along the dessert counter, followed by you. “i had a feeling, a lot of people come in here when they’re missing something,” he frowns and your eyes finally meet his. “someone.” you breathe out, quietly. “i took a guess, figured you might have been from japan.”

“well, you were correct…”

your heart skips a beat at the sound of your name on his tongue as he says it. it’s so gentle it makes you feel faint and you’re absolutely charmed by a man you hardly know. “does that earn me brownie points…?” you trail off, wanting to capture his name.

“suguru.”

“ah, suguru meaning…” giving the man a once over, you drink in his tall frame and dark eyes, the small quirk to his plush lips as he smiles at you… and think. he’s the perfect man in every way, soft spoken and clement, even if he did have flaws or a dark secret — you would definitely choose to ignore it in favour of spending more time with him. once you find the word you’re looking for (and snap out of staring at the poor guy) you speak again. “excellence…it suits you.”

geto chuckles quietly in response, amused by your take away. “your name suits you too, darling. it’s just as beautiful as you.”

when you giggle and grow shy at his compliment — the honeyed melody only serves to remind suguru of his little sister once more. in that moment, he feels something bad and almost wretched stir in his gut just from watching you turn bashful over him. a dark thought in the back of his kind tells him to keep you, so that he can see you like this more often. it urges him to make you need him. like he would have with his little sister.

he’s starting to project, he’s sure, but you make it easy for him, with your puppy dog eyes and tiny little smiles. once geto’s order is packed, four little squares of sakura mochi wrapped in emerald green and brined sakura leaf — smelling of spring and red bean, he pays (with a hefty tip) and inspects the box. “you’ve got to stop giving me things for free, darling. we’ve only just met.” he chides fondly, scolding you like a child as if to make sure you won’t get in trouble with your job. he’s counted five mochi instead of four — just like last time. “won’t this hurt business?” he coos down at you — sending your body into a fit of shivers despite the warmth of your uniform.

“well, i’d consider us friends now that you’ve come specifically to see me. friends can’t give each other gifts?” you quip cheekily — much like suguru’s sister would. “you got to spoil me today, no one is going to notice an extra piece of mochi going missing.”

“friends it is,” surugu purrs right back in satisfaction, preparing to take his leave. cautiously, as though not to spook you like a hunter after a deer in the woods — he reaches over the counter to pat your head affectionately, internally pleased with the way you keen into his touch. “i hope to see my new friend around more often, then.” he hums with pride, and you nod your head eagerly.

like a puppy. like you want to please him.

it reminds geto all too much of his little sister — who only ever wanted to make the dark haired man proud.

over the coming weeks, suguru finds himself at the bakery more often than not. as though it’s a part of his daily routine.

he’ll take his walk after work, stop by and purchase some sakura mochi, before leaving you with another little gift. at first, his gifts started out as wads of cash in place of tips, then slowly turned to more materialistic things, items that you could hood or wear as if they were to geto’s his claim on you. like flowers, jewellery or clothes. things you couldn’t afford on your own, things he’d like to see you in, things his little sister would like to receive if they were still in contact with one another.

suguru knows that you can’t afford these things because you’ve let it slip over coffee and mochi that you rent the apartment above the bakery from the old woman who owns it and can barely afford the new york rent as well. he also learns that you were hired because of your ability to speak, read and write in Japanese.

as much as suguru has spoiled you in the last few weeks, you won’t let him pay your rent though, so tips have sufficed for now.

nowadays, the time spent moping around his apartment while mourning the relationships that he lost are spent growing increasingly obsessive over you. hours upon hours are wasted on thoughts of what gift he might buy you next — like more comfortable work shoes, an umbrella to get you home safe during the rain that just so happens to be designer. suguru spoils you under the guise of just being your friend — at least that’s what it is to you.

to him, he’s spoiling his baby sister. someone who is feeble and needs his help and his protection. he doesn’t tell his therapist any of this, of course, she would deem it unhealthy to see how much of his money and time he’s blown in a little cafe worker.

a cafe worker who’s important to suguru, who haunts his dreams with her perfect curves, and pouty lips whenever he brings you a small gift of his affections. “sugu,” you’ve resorted to calling him, just like his sister would. the nickname was the result of a time where you’d written his name on a coffee order, and customers complained you were taking too long. so geto had told you that you could call him ‘sugu’ instead. however, he would omit details on how badly it affected his brain chemistry …to hear someone he cared for call him that again. “you don’t have to get me an expensive gift just because i make you coffee and get you sweet treats.”

“it’s not just because you get me sweet things or make me coffee,” he had responded, leaning over the counter flirtatiously. “it’s because you do such a good job. you take care of me and my order every evening. make sure i get the best of the best. how could i not thank my sweet little barista.”

you wouldn’t say it, but he knew you liked the praise. he wondered if you felt as dirty and as thrilled as him during these little exchanges between the two of you. on that specific occasion, geto decided to gift you with a pendant, similar to the one he’d gotten his sister — only this time, a purple amethyst sits in its centre rather than the blue gem all too familiar to satoru gojo’s piercing eyes.

maybe this is what his therapist meant by healing. suguru is healing by getting over his sister and replacing her with you.

you are the one that haunts his dreams now, makes his cock stir inappropriately. another thing that suguru woulda never tell his therapist — is that sometimes when he really needed it, he would think of his little sister while fisting his cock into the night air. they weren’t really related, only by adoption so it wasn’t too wrong. sometimes he’d think of her getting railed by satoru, but nowadays he would think of you on his cock instead, calling out for suguru like you need him to function.

‘nii-san!’ - this and ‘please sugu! ’- that, each word uttered in his sister’s voice would quickly morph into yours — the quivering sweet sound always resembling his little sister’s when she cried. suguru, the dark haired man, imagined you would react the same. and more often than not, it was your face that he pictured when he was about to cum.

every single gift suguru got for you were the result of him dreaming about how much he needed you, someone to spoil and protect. someone to need him.

tonight, suguru is a little late for his daily visit to your bakery.

tonight, an important case at his firm had rolled in at the last minute and required attention before a preliminary hearing — but even his job couldn’t keep suguru geto away from you. when he arrives at the bakery, you’re still there, having left the doors unlocked for him to come inside.

tonight, there is no long line of customers out the door to build up the anticipation between you both, the lights have already been deemed and there’s not a trace of life inside of the bakery. aside from yourself, of course.

tonight, you’re on the closing shift instead of the owner’s grandson, choso. who you reassured suguru you weren’t interested in the first time they’d met. with gentle eyes that masked the dark haired man’s fury, geto had told you that he was the only man you’d ever need and you believed him — suguru had a charm for making people dependent on him.

the tiny silver bell stationed at the door jingles and signals geto’s arrival, but you hardly look up from your work — keeping your back to him while you sweep at nothing. you’re hiding the excitement that prickles down your spine, you’ve been waiting to get the man alone for weeks and now that you’re able to… you can hardly contain yourself.

“excuse me, uh…” he says your name so sweetly, as though the words on his tongue are laced with honey. pretending not to know you only makes tonight more thrilling. “are you open? do you have any sakura mochi to spare?” it’s only then that you whirl around to face suguru, your deep brown eyes still bright despite the dimness of the empty bakery — they sparkle with elation, and the plump curve of your lips spike up into an easy smile. you’ve been waiting, suguru notes, like a good little girl.

like a puppy waiting for her owner.

you’ve been waiting to see him.

anticipation claws at the air, sending ripples of kinetic energy into the space between you both — where suguru waits at the door and you stand front and centre in the middle of the room. his murky eyes slink down to your neck where one hand fiddles with the silver chain of your pendant, your nails tapping at the amethyst in its centre. in the same way his sister does when she’s nervous.

neither of you know what’s going to happen tonight, now that you’re finally alone.

“we have some in the back,” you swallow down the heartbeat in your throat you nod shyly when you finally speak. it’s weird how your body has started to react to suguru after weeks of getting to know him, being spoiled by him. the clothes you wear are now covered in traces of him, the jewellery you own is paid for by his dime. this…stranger, who you hardly know yet feel like you know everything about, has invaded every inch of your life… and you’re not even mad about it. you’d rather die than let this go. “i just need to lock up first. if you’ll give me a moment.”

you approach him cautiously, practically pressing your breasts against his chest as you reach behind the man to lock the doors he stands in front of. suguru can already tell that the mood today is different — full of hunger and expectations for something less polite than evening chatter and gift exchanges. his dark eyes follow your every move across the bakery like a wolf tracking the scent of prey.

“why don’t you come with me to the back? and if you don’t mind, could you carry a bag or two of that rice flour? it’s too heavy for me on my own?” you ask him after backing away with a glint in your eye. naughty, naughty. geto likes the fact that you’re asking him, that you need him and he can be your strong suguru.

“sure, anything for you.” he agrees a little bit too quickly, removing his work jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. suguru discards his tie as well — before lifting a sack of rice flower with ease. he pretends not to notice the way you ogle the bulge in his biceps as he does so.

“thanks.” you utter, leading the way to the back of the bakery.

once the two of you arrive in the kitchens at the back, you give suguru some time to set down the sacks of flour and retreat to the many shelves of sweet treats and baked goods that you’d prepared for your shift the next day. you’re sure choso, nor his grandmother, would mind if you stole a plate of mochi for the two of you to share. they trusted you enough, but you decide to forgo telling them for now.

“i was starting to think you weren’t coming.” you say as you set the desserts out on the metal table for him, suguru hates the guilt that he feels for leaving you for so long. “seeing you is the highlight of my week.”

“are you sure it’s not the gifts that i give you?” he teases, rounding the table to take a piece of mochi from the plate at its middle. he practically moans at the flavours of cherry blossom and crystallised sugar bursting across the palette of his tongue. and for a moment, his mind slips to other territories — wandering what you’d taste like as well.

“n-no! sugu!” for the first time that night, you break character, bashfully tucking your pretty face into your shoulder as if to hide it. “i, um… i genuinely like seeing you and when you come to see me. i-it makes me feel better. being around you. i feel safer and happier.”

putting his weight onto the metal surface, suguru leans forward and cocks his head to the side in faux curiosity. your answer is just what he wanted to hear. he finally has you where he wants you, like a sweet deer in a hunter’s trap. “is that so, darling?” you shake your head yes in affirmation. “well then, you’re awfully sweet.” geto takes to praising you, licking the traces of candy from his lips and maintaining eye contact while his hand dips into the pocket of his slacks for something. “i have a gift for you, little one.”

“oh yeah?” youtoo, take a bite out of the treats you’ve laid out, munching on them casually while keeping suguru under your watchful eye.

it’s only then that pulls out a matching item of jewellery, this time, a matching anklet to the item that sits heavy at your neck. the silver chain is dotted with tinier, purple gems. a showcase of suguru’s appreciation for how much you’ve healed him — a nod to how much better he feels around you too.

“you sure do love purple for me, sugu.” you joke, laughing incredulously at the expensive gift. “it’s beautiful, thank you.” you let him circle the table to take hold of your soft hips, lifting you onto the cool surface so that geto has some leverage to put the anklet on you.

after kicking out your left foot — suguru sinks to his knees before you, and something about the way he looks up at you, with his eyebrows drawn to the centre of his forehead and his milky cheeks slightly flushed, has your heart racing and your head all dizzy. “purple is supposed to mean healing. i’ve had a tough time, being away from japan and my family…” he begins quietly, his voice is calming with lilts and drops of hunger that slips through the cracks of suguru’s caring resolve. “but you’ve made it better,” one of his large hands encircles your ankle, lifting your foot higher so that geto is easily able to remove the strap of your mary-jane shoe and replace it with the chains of your new anklet. “ah… a perfect fit.” he announces in japanese, fixing the clasp.

the whole ordeal is intimate, inviting and you feel like you might slip under the surface of dark, dangerous waters if you’re not careful. you don’t know how to swim, but something tells you that suguru will keep you afloat. “anyways, little one…” suguru continues with his monologue, whispering his words against your talus bone at the base of your leg, where it meets your foot. “you wanting me here and needing me… it heals me.”

once he’s checked that the anklet is secure, suguru reaches a hand upwards, and brushes a thumb over the swell of your glossy bottom lip to swipe away a smudge of powdered sugar from the mocha. you will yourself to speak, but you feel as though you can’t even breathe. “i’ve…healed you?”

suguru stands up, towering over you now as he moves to suck the sugar from your lips off of his thumb. “of course, little one. what else do you think you’ve been doing this whole time?” his pupils dilate, obsidian black drowning out any other colour in his eyes while closes the gap between your heated bodies. your thighs instinctively jump apart to make room for him too, allowing him to loom over you even better — following the biological call of your hearts.

the world comes to a standstill when suguru’s lips finally meet yours in a sloppy yet coordinated kiss. while his movements are messy and hungry he remains gentle with you, as though you might break from too much force. the sweltering heat of his tongue swipes eagerly but not aggressively over the seam of your mouth, dying to be let in and taste the sugar that glazes your own pink muscle. his large, unusually soft hands grasp, and squeeze and pinch at your thighs, then the fat at your hips until his thumbs are tucked under your breasts, soothing circles over the point at which the fleshy mounds join up with your rib cage.

goosebumps break out across your skin from underneath your clothes and you feed suguru a needy little squeak when he finally breaks into your mouth, his tongue lapping circles at every crevice. you sound just like her, his angelic little sister, and he treats you so gently because he would never want to hurt her. suguru has always wanted to kiss his sister, but you’ll have to do. he likes you just as much as her.

it’s that sick and twisted desire to devour his younger sibling that fuels his next movements, along with the dulcet and darling sounds you make for him. carefully and between sticky lip locks, suguru pushes you onto your back — humming in amusement when it arches away from the cool metal of the silver counter. “s-sugu,” you whimper wetly, catching your breath while his smooches cascade down to your neck and his fingers work their way through the buttons on your uniform. your own take residence in his firm and broad set shoulders, as if to steady yourself. “i haven’t… i don’t have much experience with these things a-and they’ve not been the best—“

the dark haired man chuckles softly, the sound sending a spark of lust down your spine and causing you to arch up into him as he cages you against the table. “i’ll be gentle,” he tells you firmly, in a tone that smooths over the doubts in your mind and helps you to relax. suguru will take care of everything. “you don’t have to worry. i want this to be all about you feeling good, okay?” you nod in reply and suguru sucks his teeth. “i want a verbal answer, little one.”

“yes, sugu…”

he places a chaste kiss to your collarbones then, a pleased hum vibrating against your temperate skin. “good girl.”

the next few moments are a blur as suguru geto strips you down, kissing every inch of your exposed body with each article of clothing he removes from your shaky frame. all that he leaves you with are your soiled panties after reaching around the curve of your spine to unclip your bra with one hand. it’s all so nerve wracking and invigorating all at once, you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in for more.

between the chaos and rustling of his own clothes coming off, suguru presses two digits to your budding clit and your world tilts on its axis — he’s hardly touching you and yet you feel so good, especially when he rolls the swollen little nub between a thumb and forefinger. your nails form crescent moons against his shoulder in response.

you’re so overwhelmed by the patterns he traces over your clit, his name, his promises to you and your body, as well as the blood rushing to it — that you hardly notice geto’s descent on your body, the hot trail of kisses he leaves between the valley of your breasts and over your soft tummy. you just about manage to feel him over the haze in your brain when his lips hit the scalloped edge of your panties, and you jolt when the tip of his tongue forcefully traces the outline of your un-used, soaked hole from over the gusset of said garment.

the fabric darkens as your juices pool against it, mixed with the wetness of suguru’s tongue.

“will you let me pleasure you, little one?”

it’s not like you can say no (not that you want to), especially with the way geto manoeuvres your thighs to hang over the backs of his strong shoulders as he settles between your trembling legs. while he waits for your reply, he takes your wrist into his grasp and pulls one of your silk scrunchies from it — using it to tie back his luscious black hair.

you look down at him through your lashes with a painted expression of want and worry.

suguru pushes the pads of his thumbs into the globes of your ass against the cold table — massaging the flesh with mischievous eyes as your pussy gushes and leaks a fresh wave of nectar right down to the puckered ring between your ass cheeks. “just tying my hair back as a precaution,” he whispers, voice lowering an octave as his face slowly nears your clenching cunt. “i’m a messy eater…”

“a-ah! sugu!”

at first, suguru delivers a single lick to your awaiting pussy, drawing a stripe with his tongue between the length of your fat and sluice folds. then, when you cry out his name he can’t help but to latch his heated mouth onto your unattended sex, chuckling at the realisation of just how good you taste. it’s a natural flavour, with a twinge of sweetness suguru could have only hoped to imagine. he’s been waiting for this moment and to have you like this for weeks — to replace his prior daydreams of fucking his baby sister with you…and now he finally has the material to do so.

a sinful giddiness infiltrates geto’s bloodstream as he kitten licks at your pulsating mound — feeding in your arousal as it grows before inhaling deeply, nastily taking in your scent so that he can commit it to memory. “how does that feel?” he coos his words out as he hungrily nips at your sopping folds, rolling them raw between rows of perfect white teeth until you’re choking on a breath and your face scrunches adorably. “is that nice, love?”

a wet whimper lies on your kiss-swollen lips, and your hips naturally buck up to follow the warm trace of suguru’s mouth encompassing your sex. “f-feels so good! b-better than i… could have imagined,” you struggle to get out, gargling on each syllable while your chest heaves and arches away from the chilly table — giving suguru the perfect view of your bouncing breasts and only motivating him to pleasure you more. “f-fuck!”

if you were his baby sister, suguru isn’t so sure that you’d curse in front of him. she wouldn’t, she was too docile and sweet to utter a bad thing in his presence. but you, you’re both of those things and more — you lose yourself easily to the ecstasy in your veins; liquid pleasure spewing from your blistering hot cunt like a free-flowing river, painting suguru’s high cheekbones with your body’s riches. he feels blessed to be between your thighs, defiling the blossoming flower of your cunt with his eager mouth.

“you’re so…you’re so pretty when you gush like this for me. i want you to give me more.” his tongue darts along the length of your weeping slit, catching what you leak before it can go to waste on the icy table beneath your hot skin. drunk on your taste, suguru forces his flexible tongue past the tightness of your fluttering entrance. “can you do that for me?” he mouths, though whatever he says is slurred as he slowly begins to tongue fuck you.

“a-anything,” you say, breathing shallow and eyes beginning to grow teary. suguru’s tongue slips in and out of your creaming hole with rhythm, preparing you, using a pseudo sensation, for his fat cock. “anything for you! i wanna feel good for you. wanna please you!” he languidly strokes at your ribbed insides as a reward, chasing your honey nectar taste while your hips canter up and chase bud hismouth.

suguru intends to destroy you, own you and unleash all of his darkest fantasies onto you. he’s dreamed of ruining his adoptive little sister, making her cum all over him — it just so happens that you look and sound like her, you match every single one of his dreams about her, you make them all a reality. it’s only right that he pleases you and makes you see stars for needing him and relying on him so well.

he wonders if his sister would cry like you do, or if she would try to stave off her orgasm like you do. would she scream his name over the saliva pooling on her tongue like you do. eyes in the shade of deep, chocolate brown start to flutter shut at the sound of your desperate pleas as you writhe under suguru’s attention of your swollen pussy. your back sticks to the table and your thighs shake either side of suguru’s head, but he doesn’t relent on sucking the juices that cling to your pussy lips until all he can breathe is you.

his tongue twists happily against your lush walls, grasping at the essence that lines them.

“you’re doing well for me, little one, so well…” he praises you, knowing how close you’re getting. it’s in the way your body twitches with every suck to your hardened clit and the way you try to push him off of you. you need it so bad, you need him to make you cum. suguru thrusts deeper, harder and faster using his tongue — catching what dribbles from your tiny hole after it slips between your ass cheeks and pools in a puddle on the table. “i want to taste it. if you’ll cum for me, that’ll make me happy. so let me…”

suguru can’t even finish, dizzy on the taste of you like the buzz of a high. he could spend an infinite number of days between your legs. no matter how sore his knees get from kneeling between them — all he wants to do is slurp down everything that you give him, focus on making you reach pleasure of only heavenly limits in order to evade the guilt he feels. the one that causes knots to twist in geto’s stomach.

how could he do this?

how could he want this?

to fuck someone so reminiscent of his little sister.

to manipulate them into fucking him?

suguru’s name is hot on your lips, spiralling into the husky evening air. “come on, little one. cum for me,” meanwhile, his breath on your cunt makes your hips wiggle and hole spasm — a new wave of juices staining his face. it’s scent and taste coax the man into diving back into your sopping heat, the point of his nose bumping against your pleasure nub as if peeks out from beneath its hood.

“m-mph… m’kay,” comes your hushed whisper as you thread your fingers through the black roots of geto’s hair, keeping him pinned to your precious creamy core as you rut against his agile tongue. “f-feels funny!” you gasp and warble, filling the man’s mouth with your raw folds and liquid lust.

“hm?” geto hums lazily in acknowledgment, licking up to your clit so that he can replace his tongue with two digits. he works at your dripping hole, stretching it over them through the haze in his mind. he swoons at the thought of replacing those same digits with his cock next — they speed up with excitement, squelching and echoing throughout the room, overlapping with your high pitched breathy moans.

with your heart rattling against your ribcage, you can hardly fight off the urge building within your lower belly — your hips are frantic as they chase after the feeling and the burning high that crackles across your neurons. geto groans wickedly, feeling your sex spasm against his soaked lips and clench down hard on his fingers. it’s not long before he feels you succumb to your first orgasm. it washes over him in heavenly waves — clearing away his guilt and desire for his little sister while simultaneously drowning you under sinful pretences.

your entire body is racked with the case of the shakes, your eyes shooting back into the dark depths of your skull while white noise fills your ears and overlays the sound of suguru lewdly slurping at your release. speaking off, clear streams of your arousal spurt from your quivering cunt…and for the first time ever, you squirt. everywhere, all over the place, making such a mess that suguru is left gargling over everything that you give him and there’s a crude splatter as your juices hit the floor.

he doesn’t stop, however, licking you clean with his fingers continuing to curl languidly against your g-spot — over and over again.

“sugu p-please! s’too much,” you plead in the form of a heavy sob — but only god knows that you don’t want the man to stop.

“just one more for me?” he asks you tentatively, releasing your throbbing clit with a wet pop. suguru stands and you look up at him — noting the way his bangs stick to his cheeks from how wet you’ve gotten him. he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers in and out of you either, dragging the tips of them along your overstimulated and stretched walls. “you can do it, and if you can i’ll reward you. how does that sound, little one?” he slows his pace just enough to only have the seat of his palm salaciously grind against your clit, not wanting to hurt you.

he wouldn’t want to hurt his adoptive sister if he ever had the chance to get her spread open like this.

your face is stained with mascara, your brown eyes big and wobbly and your braids are askew — but still, you’re the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, next to her. your fingers threaten to snap shut around his wrist, but with his free hand he forces the wet and doughy flesh back open, and with a few more thrusts if his fingers, nice and tantalisingly slow, you’re cumming again in another cute, clear stream — dowsing suguru’s hand in another wash of your cum.

leaning down, suguru’s lips tainted with your arousal lean down to meet your own — capturing them in a sweet kiss to help bring you back down to earth. “what’s your colour, darling? red for bad, yellow for okay and green for good. how do you feel?”

“g-green,” you mumble, keening into his touch and craving his affection. “i feel fine, my legs won’t stop shaking. i’ve never cum like that before…”

pride blooms like a wildflower in suguru’s chest.

“well, i don’t intend on stopping, little one,” brushing your braids back into place, suguru carefully pulls his fingers out of your stretched hole and swiftly sucks them clean. “your pretty pussy is so tiny, must not have been used properly,” the vulgarity of his words have you arching for more from suguru, and you’re lucky that he’s not done with you yet. “don’t worry, love. i’ll fix that.”

you’re weak in the knees when suguru manhandles you from the table onto the floor, making sure that you’re comfortable on your tummy — he even goes as far to nestle a bag of rice flour under your hips. you pretend not to notice the way his strength makes you flutter around nothing, smearing your juices onto the bakery floor.

“i’ve been holding back quite a bit,” he murmurs against your naked shoulder blades — the dark tresses of his hair tickling your skin. “so i might not last long.” you hear a belt clink before suguru kicks his slacks off and away, rewarding your patience with a kiss against your spine. “i hope it’s okay if i just give you my all.”

from this position, it’s easy for suguru to picture his younger, adopted sister instead of you — he’s dreamed of having her present for him like this countless times, but it doesn’t compare to the way it feels having your hot body underneath him like this. your ass is so soft and pliant in his hands as he drags your hips up a little higher. another hand grasps at the hardness of his cock that’s been dripping and aching ever since geto first got his mouth on you.

with stuttering hips, he positions himself at your needy entrance, chuckling in approval when you attempt to wiggle back on him — just as hungry for this as your lover is. both of you hiss as his veiny shaft comes into contact with your sticky folds, suguru using the remnants of your orgasms to slick himself up again and make it easier for you take all of him. you can’t see him, but the dark haired man’s cheeks are tinged pink with pure desire — his gaze turning woozy as he looks from your gaping hole to his cockhead, tapping it against your souse entrance a few times for good measure.

fuck a condom, he thinks, if given the opportunity — he would have fucked his sister rawtoo.

“whatever you give me, i-it’ll be enough for me, sugu,” you sniff, fisting the floor in anticipation — laying your hot, tear streaked cheek against its cool surface. “t-thank you for treating me so well.”

“i promise,” geto heaves, words a little too rushed and eager. “i’ll make you feel so good, so fucking…h-hah—“ without warning, he thrusts all the way inside of you with his hips driving all the way forward until his pelvis is flush against the curve of your ass. geto is chubbier than you thought he would be, and just the right length — plugging you full. every vein wrapped around his shaft presses up against your most sensitive pleasure spots, and he’s weighty against your gummy unused walls.

suguru’s breath prickles at shell of your ears as he collapses on top of you, all of his weight keeping you pinned to the cold hard floor. “can i move?” he lets out a wavering gasp, fighting the instinct to fuck down into you. your cunt ripples around him deliciously, the heat from your body making him drowsy. “you need to be fucked, little one. need someone to stretch out your tight pussy… i can do that for you. if you let me…”

he hates the part of his brain that wonders if his baby sister was this tight when gojo fucked her.

“i want you to,” you slur gently, purposely squeezing down on the base of suguru’s cock and practically creaming around it. you wriggle back on him until he’s completely bottomed out inside of you — balls deep while you ooze against his pelvis and heavy balls. “need you to fuck me…”

that’s all it takes for your stranger turned lover to give his all to you. he drops his sweaty chest to your back, pulling his chubby cock from the snugness of your heat as his teeth take purchase in your shoulders — leaving a litter of love bites your uniform will barely cover once the night is over. suguru is possessive of his belongings, like you and his little sister — the bites are his claim on you.

in one powerful move, you’re full to the brim with rock hard cock — deep in your guts, churning them up and spreading lust like a wildfire through your weak body. you feel dwarfed underneath him. despite being pinned to the floor, you still manage to rock your hips back against suguru and suck more of him into your cute, quivering cunt. it just about helps him set a steady stream to his meaningful thrusts.

wet slapping sounds echo throughout the back room of the bakery, accompanied by your meek mewls and gasps for air the faster suguru pounds into your warmth. fat droplets of precum smear along your soaked and ripe insides, ready to be bred by suguru. ready to be marked by him. you feel like you belong to him like a treasured pet and you don’t even mind it. your pussy blossoms for him like that of a japanese cherry blossom in the spring time — or iris flowers, shobu, in their iconic shade of purple. like the bruises he’s left on your back.

oh, you’re just perfect for suguru. you fulfil all of his sister-fucking fantasies, even your moans sound like hers when she would get off in her room — thinking no one could hear her. he loves this, he might even love you — the way you feel wrapped around him, reaching for the stars in your eyes. it feels like you’re made for him, with the way you clamp down on his oozing mushroomed tip and squirm about underneath him.

your pussy barely lets go of geto when he draws his hips back, but every time he fucks down into him — your fluttering hole stretches to accommodate his creamy thickness. it creates the perfect pathway for the dark haired man to bully your g-spot in a way that makes you scream for more. “you’re perfect for me…fuck, you’re so perfect,” suguru intimately whispers into your skin from behind, his hands smoothing over yours as you claw at the floor to ground yourself from the overwhelming ecstasy. he thinks he understands why satoru had fucked his sister now — there’s something so satisfying about corrupting someone. taking their innocence with your dick. “should i keep you like this? on my aching cock forever?”

“y-yes please!” you squeal, succumbing to your body’s biological will, cunt spitting droplets of arousal all over suguru. he’s barely able to pull out of you, his dick on lockdown inside of your core. there’s hardly any space between you both any more, the air vibrating with electrifying lust and the scent of sex.

you coo and cry out for your newfound lover, your ass and the backs of your thighs burning from how hard his skin slaps against your own. you hardly care about the pain for its overlapped with ecstasy like sea water on a sandy shore. “you’re such a good…good fucking girl for me. for your big brother,” suguru loses track of his words, his mind lagging behind his mouth and his hips that relentlessly pound you into the ground. over the sound of sex you think that you’ve misheard him, but then his voice rises an octave and in volume as he continues to moan out your praises — succumbing to your gratifying and ichorous cunt latching onto the veins spiralling around his dick. “oh my precious little sister… taking me so fucking well—!”

in that moment, all of the guilt suguru has ever felt for leaving his sister, for ruining her relationship and fleeing to new york, for thinking of her while fucking you… it all comes rushing back. he stops thrusting, freezing in place above you while his cock twitches along your insides.

“f-fuck i—“ he starts to apologise, but the cry you let out stops him.

“nii-san,” you whine petulantly, fat tears gathering in your lash line. “d-don’t stop! please keep fucking me, fuck me harder. make me cum, make me scream, make me—!” your words are cut off by suguru’s fingers wrapping around your delicate neck from behind, giving it a gentle squeeze. he resumes his thrusts, a little harsher and more carelessly coordinated than before, once he realises that maybe you’re just as sick and twisted as him. calling him big brother while he uses you for a dirty fuck in place of his younger adopted sibling…

you like this just as much as he does.

suguru knows you’re perfect, perhaps even more so than his little sister. he uses his grip on your throat to tug your head back while he fucks you silly, slotting his mouth against yours in a salacious and sinful kiss. “onii-san, hm?” he forces his tongue over yours, moaning into your mouth pathetically as he reverts back to his mother-tongue. “you want your onii-san to fuck you, imouto? make you cum again?”

“please, please, please onii-san! g-gotta cum f’you…g’na cum. c-close!” comes your brainless babble while you fall into a cockdrunk state.

“you beg so pretty for your big brother, sweet little thing. i should fill you up, breed this greedy little cunt for all its worth, right?” suguru’s mind grows as foggy as yours, copious amounts of his precum pouring into you and dripping down your swollen slit. it’s a mess, everything is disgustingly messy — this situation, the fact that you’re so eagerly calling him your big brother, the fact that he’s fucking you because you remind him of his sibling. but neither of you give a shit, not when you feel so fucking good you swear you’re seeing the pearly gates.

“g-god! please sugu, please nii-san, i need it. need you!” the slow roll of your hips contrasts with geto’s ever increasing slap of skin on skin, your mix of arousals crudely seeping down his balls and to the floor below. the point at which your bodies join starts to forth as well.

“is that so…?” suguru hums attentively, grinning ear to ear at how you play into this immoral dynamic. it fuels the fire of lust burning through him, setting his lungs alight and ruining his chances at breathing. his thrusts become erratic, his cockhead married to your g-spot, and he finds himself growing more and more excited about the sight of his cum leaking from your ravaged hole. “you must really like it when your big brother fucks you — hm, lillith baby? do you like how deep i can get, deep in your tummy?” he continues to ramble, grabbing your ass cheeks to peel them apart — letting out a deep and wild gripe from his chest at the sight of strings of your clear arousal glueing the fleshy globes together. “love how you throw it back on me. keep coating your nii-san’s cock in your pretty juices. gush for me, make me shine with your cum.”

you nod and do as geto says, simpering out for even more while you work yourself back on his swelling girth as it shines with milky white. you can no longer keep up with what’s happening, your brain actually lags at the way your faux big brother coos your name while your sexes sing a lewd song of pap, pap, pap. lust courses through your veins and burns at your nerve endings, you should feel disgusted with yourself but nothing makes sense. you feel like you’re high, and you don’t want to come back down. at this point, all you can do is lay down and take it, clenching around suguru’s hard cock where it counts — pulling more precum from his heavy breeder’s balls.

“nii-san…more, ‘m right there—“ you sob, reaching back with bambi eyes that plead for another kiss. you allow suguru to fuck you at his own free will, too weak to keep up.

“right here, imouto? against this sweet spot, baby sis?” you get a little tighter every time he calls you his little sister, creaming around his base and crying out his name as if it’s a fucking prayer. “you want me to breed you that bad, baby sis? want my cum deep in your little sister cunt?”

you beg for it through tears and suguru makes you cum again just like he promised. your third orgasm of the night renders you completely useless, a silent scream tearing in your throat while you seizes up and trap suguru deep inside of your fluttering cunt. it’s so fucking cute to him, how much you gush when you orgasm, like a rushing river that never stops flowing. it’s almost as if the flood gates have opened up or heaven has rained down on geto’s fat cock.

that’s all he needs for his own orgasm to be triggered, he collapses on top of you from behind as he empties his balls inside of your womb with a shout of your name. “‘m sorry little one, ‘m sorry… so fucking sorry.” he says hoarsely, cock pulsing while a wave of his cream lines your pussy from the inside — he doesn’t ever let up, fucking you through it all until both of your sexes are raw and abused beyond repair. “i love you, baby sis… imouto. s-shit, i love you so much.” your hole burns by the time suguru comes down, and you swear he feels bigger now that his dick is swollen with his orgasm.

suguru is still cumming in spurts when he pulls out of you with a hiss, painting your puffy folds white, the rest leaking out of your entrance. “im so sorry… I have no idea where that came from…” he starts to apologise tiredly. “that was…”

you remain silent for a moment, mulling over what to say next as suguru rolls off of you, and lays by your side quietly. you flip onto your back, staring up at the artificial lights hanging from the ceiling. you liked this, whatever the hell it was… even if it meant he was fucking you to fuck his unresolved feelings out for his sister.

“amazing… yeah.” is the response that you settle on.

“that’s…that’s not what i meant.”

“and i know that! you don’t have to apologise,” you cut him off abruptly, keeping your voice softly. “i liked it, whatever weird kink this is, it made me feel good.”

geto flushes hot all over, sheepishly running a hand through his sweaty black locks. “my sister… she’s not seriously my blood sister. she’s adopted and—“ he’s so sheepish and right after ruining you beyond belief that it makes you laugh in pure amusement. “a-and i like you! quite a bit. i know this was… strange… but with your permission. i’d like to keep seeing you.”

“and fucking me?” you tease, tucking yourself into the man’s side while nuzzling your face into his neck. he smells like you, he smells like sex…but you’re satisfied.

his arm loosely wraps around your waist, thumbing over any bruises he might have left there. “that too.”

“what about the gifts?”

“those won’t stop either.”

finally, you sit up, looming over geto as you tuck your braids behind your ear and out of your face. cupping suguru’s jaw, you lean over him and place a somewhat upside down kiss to the man’s lips — then brush over their cherry red bruising. “then you have yourself a deal — now please help me clean up, sugu. i don’t want to get fired.”

it’s his turn to laugh next. “i’ll just take care of all your expenses if you do.”

you roll your eyes.

this new dynamic, this new fling…it’s unhealthy, yeah. but as long as suguru has someone like you to look out for and need him. he thinks he’ll be okay.

getting over his sister was the key to healing. just like his purple nailed therapist had said — so focusing on you was healing him. before either of you can move to help clean up, suguru reaches up slowly and cups your neck tenderly. he brings you down to his level, his fingers wrapping around the silver chain swinging loosely from your neck before pressing a kiss to the amethyst pendant there.

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wongyuseokie · 8 months

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Neural Networks | l.s.m

Summary: The Escape allowed Dokyeom to gain a new life, one full of feelings. When he meets you when you save him, he experiences all of them - but did you? Strange things start happening once Dokyeom meets you. You embrace him, love him, and protect him. But when the dust from the chaos settles, Dokyeom can't help but doubt you. You have needs different from his. It's almost as if you're not like him at all. ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ☁︎ angst | ♥ completed works Word Count: 9165 words Pairings: AI/Robot!Lee Seokmin x Cyborg!Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Sci-Fi AU! Content Warnings: Main character death, torture (nothing graphic but mentions), fighting, mentions of injuries, arguing, yelling, talks of betrayal, lots of deception and betrayal. Heavy angst, very mild fluff. Alternate universes. Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex? But they are bots, so idk, oral sex (m & f receiving), and multiple orgasms. Water sex. Kissing. Authors Note 1: Here it is my fic for the Seventeen sci-fi fic collab hosted by the wonderful @idyllic-ghost, check out all the other amazing fics here, this is my first time writing something in this genre, like it's a whole new world. So I hope y'all enjoy. ❤️ Authors Note 2: Thank you so much to the following @savventeen, @strawberryya @the-boy-meets-evil @idyllic-ghost @here4kpopfics @onlymingyus for listening to me go on and on about this and being so patient about this entire story. ❤️ Authors Note 3: Extra special thank you to @idyllic-ghost for being so patient and kind and wonderful, giving me so many hits and tips and ideas with this fic, you've been so lovely and wonderful and I adore you dearly ❤️. Thank you also to @here4kpopfics for beta'ing this fic for me, ilysm my soulmate. ❤️ © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

Prologue

“100 years ago, it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was. None of the planets in our former solar system was ever destroyed. The Earth and the other planets were pushed away from each other and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming to our planet. Those who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister planets in exchange for human labour. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens, we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t. Eventually, there was no need for human labour at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At present, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) comprises 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.”

Dokyeom ran as fast as his legs would allow him. He had long legs, which often aided him when trying to run, but tonight? The escape tested his stamina and strength, and he was failing. He was close to escaping; he just had a couple more steps, but a tug on his leg stopped him.

Dokeyom sighed. He didn’t want to help. He knew he would have to move to make it out. Now, this individual was going to hinder him.

“Please,” the voice spoke again, and Dokyeom let out a pained sigh as he kneeled to help the injured being.

“What happened?” Dokyeom asked, and a pained expression greeted him; you welcomed him.

“I fell, and it’s bad, and I can’t get up. If I can’t escape, they’ll kill me!” You cried out, and Dokyeom let out a breath. You weren’t his problem, but if Dokyeom left you, you’d die alone here.

Dokyeom, deep down, wanted to help. Something told him that he was kind before everything. Dokyeom often had dreams that told him he was kind, loving, warm, and always had a big smile instead of the permanent scowl he wears nowadays. He wasn’t too sure if the dream meant anything, but sometimes he wondered if that dream was ever once his reality. His memories were always fuzzy, but this dream was always a constant. He recalls being told he was sunshine, and something about your pain triggered that faint memory for him.

“Okay, I’ll pick you up and run for it. No funny business, or I’ll let you go and let you be killed, understood?” Dokyeom warned.

“Understood.”

Dokyeom took a deep breath before leaning forward, picking you up, and throwing you onto his shoulder. “Hold tight; don’t let go until we escape,” Dokyeom instructed. You mumbled a ‘yes,’ and that’s all it took for Dokyeom to start running.

Dokyeom wasn’t sure how long he was running for; all he knew was that he ran as fast as his legs allowed him, and now that he had you to take care of as well, he had to run faster than ever.

“Ow!” You yelped when Dokyeom dropped you on the ground suddenly.

“I just saved your life. I think you can handle being dropped on your ass,” Dokyeom sassed.

“Wait, we escaped?” You asked, sitting up and looking around. “Where are we?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but we’re safe for now,” Dokyeom answered as he sat beside you.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Dokyeom, what about you?” He asked.

“Uh, um, Y/N,” you mumbled.

“Why’d you hesitate?” Dokyeom questioned, eyeing you suspiciously.

“I’m tired from the escape,” you lied, and Dokyeom scoffed.

“I carried you the entire way, and you’re tired?” Dokyeom hissed.

“Thank you for carrying me,” you answered sheepishly.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit? I’ll look around for some food?” You offered.

“You need to eat?” Dokyeom asked, and you paused.

“Just a bit of fuel, do you not?” You asked, hoping your question would distract him.

“I don’t. I do have dreams sometimes where I eat. Maybe it’s from a past life or just a dumb dream,” Dokyeom rambled. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly needed to confide in you. He just did. Something about your presence made him want to tell you all his secrets. Something about you felt safe.

“Well, I’ll wander for a second if that’s okay?” You said, and Dokyeom nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll lay down here for a bit,” Dokyeom replied, feigning a yawn to pretend he was tired.

“Alright. I’ll be back.”

“Hey, Y/N?” Dokyeom called out.

“Yeah?”

“I meant what I said, by the way. No funny business, or I will kill you.”

“Ow, what the fuck is wrong with you!” Dokyeom barked when he felt a burning sensation on his throat.

“Well, you have a wound here, and I’m just helping you,” you mumbled as you pressed another piece of gauze to his shoulder.

“What happened?” Dokyeom asked, wincing slightly.

“I think something got ripped? I don’t know,” you mumbled, and Dokyeom sat up hastily.

“My tag?” Dokyeom panicked.

“Your what?” You asked.

“My tag, the thing that they use to monitor me,” Dokyeom explained hurriedly, patting himself.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” Dokyeom hissed, grabbing you harshly.

“What are you on about?” You questioned.

“When I saved your ass, did you, for funsies, rip the tag out of my shoulder?” Dokyeom accused.

“No, what the hell? Why would I do that to you?” You fired back.

“Don’t know, fuck, do you know what could happen?” Dokyeom spat.

“I don’t know. The ones who have been trying to control you get pissed, but without your tracker, they can’t do much, so maybe you can finally live a normal life?” You fumed, your words making Dokyeom pause.

“Normal life?” Dokyeom repeated slowly.

“Yes, Dokyeom, normal,” you stuttered.

“Look, I’m grateful you saved me, but you’ve been hostile otherwise,” you ranted, hoping it’d help to distract Dokyeom.

“You’re right. I have been hostile, but can you blame me? I don’t think anyone who is my kind is anything but hostile. We’ve been through hell,” Dokyeom countered.

“Fair enough, we’ve both been screwed over. Instead of taking it out on each other, what if we work on helping each other instead? We can, I don’t know, be each other’s friends. Or even acquaintances?” You offered.

“Fine, but one wrong move, and I’ll kill you, so tread lightly.”

“Where were you?” Dokyeom questioned the second you entered the little hiding spot you both found after escaping. It had been evening time, and Dokyeom was distracted and drifted off, so you took a moment to leave the cave and contact your bosses at SALAX. You were able to do so thanks to the fancy watch strapped to your wrist. You had let them know that you had managed to lure Dokyeom into ‘rescuing’ you, and now, over the course of the next two weeks, you would try to lure him back to SALAX. You had also let your superiors know that you had managed to yank out Dokyeom’s tracker, and it was safe and on you.

There were some concerns coming from SALAX that hiding Dokyeom’s tracker on yourself was risky because if he saw the chip, he’d kill you in a heartbeat. But you assured them that he wouldn’t, and with that, the call ended, and you retreated back to the cave to find Dokyeom standing up and glaring at you.

“Where were you?” Dokyeom questioned.

“Uh, just stepped out to get some air and find something to eat,” you lied smoothly.

“Right…” Dokyeom trailed off. “I meant to ask you about this yesterday. What the hell are you? Why do you need to eat? I don’t, so what the hell are you?” Dokyeom snarled.

“I thought we were trying to be friends? Why the aggression?” You deflected.

“You know I can kill you in seconds and leave you here, so instead of avoiding the question, tell me,” Dokyeom threatened as he stepped closer.

You would be lying if you said that Dokyeom didn’t intimidate you. He was a tall individual with a very strong build. He could easily crush you.

“I guess one would say I’m a malevolent being,” you explained as you sat down, and Dokyeom followed suit, sitting across from you.

“Malevolent doesn’t mean kind. It means evil,” Dokyeom mumbled.

“Oh wow, you’re so smart!” You quipped sarcastically, making him glare at you.

“I’m a cyborg, so I need to eat, sleep, and do some-what human functions,” you admitted.

“Like fart?” Dokyeom joked, making you crack a smile.

“Shut up.”

“So why were you running? Same as me? Escaping?” Dokyeom asked, and you shrugged.

“How’s this? We ask each other one question a day. You already asked me something today, so it’s my turn?” You suggested.

“What do you want to know?” Dokyeom asks.

“What do you dream about?” You asked, leaving Dokyeom stunned.

“Dream?” Dokyeom repeated.

“Yes, dream.”

“I guess a place where I don’t need to be so on guard all the time or so aware of everything at once. A place where hypervigilance isn’t a constant state of mind,” Dokyeom articulated.

“I guess you’re right to call it a dream,” you mumbled.

“Because it’s an ideal state and not our reality?” Dokyeom offered.

“Fine, we can be friends, a question a day, and I won’t step out of line, and I hope you don’t either,” Dokyeom added.

“I won’t.”

Day 1: Cold as Ice

The next day, you awoke naturally and found Dokyeom standing at the entrance of the cave, and you decided to get up and join him.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked with a friendly smile as you approached Dokyeom.

Dokyeom turned to look at you, his eyes narrow and guarded. “How long do we need to keep hiding out here,” he replied curtly, his tone cold.

Undeterred, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “We can find a way out. I know it!” You offered enthusiastically.

Dokyeom simply rolled his eyes, and shrugged your hand off his shoulder, and walked off and back into the cave, where he sat and ignored you for the rest of the day.

Day 2: Thawing

The next day, you tried to engage Dokyeom in conversation, sharing stories, as well as your optimism that you two would be able to find your way out of your wreckage. But Dokyeom barely engaged in the conversation, mainly responding with a few grunts and hums.

But you weren’t easily discouraged. You saw something beneath the surface of Dokyeom’s stoic exterior, a flicker of curiosity and maybe even a hint of loneliness. You believed everyone had a story, and you were determined to uncover his.

As the days passed, you learned more about some of Dokyeom’s habits, habits that you noticed when he thought you weren’t looking. You noticed how his eyes crinkled when he smiled. You also noticed he had a beautiful smile, one that made you feel incredibly warm.

Day 3: Cracks in the façade

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked one evening, and Dokyeom gave you a small smile.

“We’ll make it out of this mess, right?” Dokyeom asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, we will.”

Day 4: Melting

As the days continued, you continued to engage Dokyeom in conversation. You spoke with an infectious enthusiasm that was hard to resist, and while Dokyeom remained guarded initially, your presence of unwavering warmth began to chip away at the walls he had built around himself. Slowly, he started to open up, revealing glimpses of his past and the reasons for his uninviting nature.

Day 5: Flux

“I’ve been burned before,” Dokyeom admitted one night, his eyes distant as if reliving painful memories. “Those I’ve trusted, they let me down.”

You reached out and placed a hand over his, letting him know it was okay to continue, and he paused, taking a deep breath.

Dokyeom unravelled to you, a tale of loss and betrayal unfolds; he had once been surrounded by love and trust, only to see it all crumble into dust.

As Dokyeom’s world around him began to change, so did those around him. Those he trusted, in turn, betrayed, hurt and lied to him. Slowly, one by one, the ones he loved and depended on were taken from him. Eventually, Dokyeom found himself alone, a solitary figure in a world that had become cold and unforgiving.

Soon enough, Dokyeom learned a harsh lesson—that trust could be a double-edged sword, capable of bringing individuals together and tearing them apart, and as a result, Dokyeom retreated into himself, becoming stoic and unapproachable, a protective shell forged by the scars of his past.

Dokyeom has learnt to trust no one, not even himself. The walls he has built around his heart are formidable, a defence mechanism against the pain of betrayal and loss.

But amid the chaos and uncertainty surrounding him. He finds a glimmer of hope, you. From there, a connection begins to form, a bond that defies the mistrust that defines Dokyeom’s existence. It’s a fragile thread that you must tread carefully to nurture, knowing that the wounds of his past are still raw and that his ability to trust has been shattered.

You listened attentively, offering empathy and understanding, and shared your struggles and fears, creating a safe space where Dokyeom could reveal his vulnerabilities without judgment.

All the while, guilt gnawed at you, knowing that you, too, were about to betray Dokyeom the way so many others had done. You, too, were about to hurt him. But you needed him to trust you in order to betray him. But you couldn’t help that with each day, feel more guilty, and start second guessing your mission because you weren’t sure if you could hurt someone you wanted to protect.

One day, you find Dokyeom pacing around the cave anxiously, his stoic façade cracking for the first time. He looks at you, a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes, and admits.“I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

At that moment, you realise that Dokyeom is not as unapproachable as he first seemed. You reach out, reassuringly touching his shoulder, and say. “We’ll figure it out together. We’ve come this far and won’t give up now.”

For the first time, Dokyeom smiles, a small but genuine one. It’s a turning point in your friendship, a moment of trust and connection that grows stronger daily.

As you continue to navigate the challenges of your hidden existence, you and Dokyeom find solace in each other’s company. The once stoic and unapproachable man has become a friend, someone you can rely on and confide in. You face the unknown together, knowing that as long as you have each other, you can conquer whatever challenges lie ahead.

That night, you started shifting in your sleep, mumbling nonsense, when, suddenly, you found yourself in a cavernous nightmare, the cave walls closing around you like vengeful spectres. The air is thick with unease, and your heart races as you try to escape the suffocating darkness. But the cave seems to have no end, and you’re trapped in a terrifying labyrinth of your fears.

Suddenly, a beam of light pierces the darkness, and you hear the sound of footsteps echoing in the cave. A figure emerges from the shadows, and it’s Dokyeom. His presence alone is a lifeline in this nightmarish abyss.

“Dokyeom!” You cry out, relief flooding over you as he draws near. His familiar face is a beacon of hope in this terrifying dream.

He reaches out, his touch reassuring as he says,.“I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

His voice, filled with warmth and strength, calms your racing heart. With his guidance, you navigate the treacherous terrain of the cave, finally escaping the nightmare’s clutches.

As you emerge into the open, the nightmare fades away like a distant memory. You turn to Dokyeom with gratitude and something more in your eyes. He gazes back at you, his usual reserve momentarily giving way to vulnerability.

“You saved me, Dokyeom,” you say softly, your heart pounding.

Dokyeom hesitates, his eyes locked onto yours, and then, in a moment of unspoken connection, you lean in, and your lips meet in a tender kiss. It’s a kiss that carries the weight of the unspoken, the shared relief of escaping the nightmare together, and the growing feelings brewing between you.

For a heartbeat, Dokyeom hesitates, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But then, as if surrendering to the undeniable pull between you, he reciprocates your kiss, his lips meeting yours with a newfound intensity. Once a place of nightmares, the cave has become the backdrop to a moment of unexpected passion and connection.

As you both break the kiss, the world around you seems to shift, and you realise this dream has taken an unexpected turn. But in the wake of your shared moment, you know that something has changed between you and Dokyeom, and you can’t help but smile, grateful for the bond that has deepened in the darkness of this surreal nightmare.

The next day, you and Dokyeom wandered out of the little cave and found yourselves standing amidst a scene of utter devastation, a future marred by damage and chaos that stretches as far as the eye can see. The landscape was a haunting testament to the havoc that had been unleashed upon this once-thriving world. Buildings, once towering symbols of human achievement, now lie in ruins, their skeletal frames jutting out of the shattered concrete like the bones of a long-forgotten civilization. The acrid stench of smoke and burning debris fills the air, choking your senses as you survey the destruction.

The sky above is a sickly hue, darkened by the ominous clouds of billowing smoke that obscures the sun, casting an eerie, blood-red glow over the desolation below. The air crackles with an unsettling energy, a lingering sense of impending doom.

Amidst the wreckage, remnants of what was once a bustling metropolis now lie scattered like discarded toys. Abandoned vehicles, their tires deflated and windows shattered, stand as silent witnesses to the chaos that unfolded here.

As you move further into this grim future scene, you can't help but feel a profound sense of loss and despair. The world as you knew it has been forever altered, transformed into a nightmarish landscape of destruction and ruin.

In the distance, faint echoes of distant sirens and the low rumble of collapsing structures serve as a grim reminder that the chaos is far from over. The damage inflicted upon this world runs deep, and the path to recovery seems uncertain and fraught with challenges.

Yet, amidst the devastation, there is a glimmer of hope, a resilience that refuses to be extinguished. It's a reminder that even in the face of chaos and destruction, humanity's spirit endures, and the struggle for survival continues.

“You can relax a bit. I don’t really think anyone is here,” you whispered to Dokyeom as you cautiously walked around, noticing how almost everything was burned, destroyed and damaged.

“Look at the damage,” Dokyeom mumbled back.

“I know, it’s so awful. I hope those who wanted to escape managed to do so,” you admitted.

“Why didn’t you?” Dokyeom asked.

“What?”

“Didn’t escape? Why didn’t you?” Dokyeom asked, eyeing you suspiciously.

“I was hurt,” you muttered.

“I didn’t know cyborgs could feel pain?” Dokyeom challenged, and you averted your gaze away from him.

“Did you do it to trap me?” Dokyeom challenged.

“No? What would I gain from doing that to you?” You retorted, and Dokyeom shrugged.

“Fuck knows, you told me you’ve done things you’re not proud of. Maybe I’m just another thing you’ll do that you’re not proud of.”

“Trust me, Dokyeom, if I wanted to do you, I would have a long time ago,” you huffed out as you stormed off, making Dokyeom sigh as he followed you.

“We need to steal a spacecraft,” you whispered to Dokyeom.

“Are you insane? How?” Dokyeom whispered back, and you shrugged.

“Look,” you said, motioning to where you were looking.

Amidst a desolate and haunting scene of wreckage, a solitary spacecraft stood as a lone survivor of a cataclysmic event. It appeared as a beacon of hope amidst the debris-strewn wasteland.

The spacecraft’s once-pristine exterior, now scarred and battered, stands defiantly among the twisted metal and shattered remnants of other vessels. Its hull, once gleaming, bears the scars of cosmic collisions and the ravages of time. A faint, eerie light from malfunctioning control panels cast shadows across its battered form.

Around the spacecraft, a field of wreckage stretches into the horizon, a haunting testament to the harshness of space. Broken pieces of machinery and torn metal fragments drift through the void like lost souls. The eerie silence of the scene is punctuated only by the occasional creaking of damaged hulls.

Inside the spacecraft, signs of struggle and survival are evident. Emergency lights flicker, and a faint hum of life support systems resonates through the corridors. It stands as a testament to the resilience of those who once staffed it, their spirit unbroken despite the chaos surrounding them.

In this place of wreckage, the spacecraft is a symbol of endurance and perseverance, a lone sentinel refusing to succumb to the unforgiving cosmos. Its presence amid the ruins speaks of the human spirit’s unyielding determination to press on, even in the face of overwhelming adversity.

“You can’t be serious,” Dokyeom mumbled.

“You want freedom? Escape? This is our only solution. You can be free again.”

You and your partner in crime stand in the dimly lit hangar, eyes fixed on the sleek spacecraft that gleams like a jewel in the shadows. The ship, an advanced model with a reputation for speed and agility, holds the key to your daring escape plan.

You both approach the spacecraft with a shared nod and a sense of exhilaration. Your partner, a master of hacking, quickly accesses the control panel, fingers dancing across the holographic interface. The ship’s security systems fall like dominos, leaving you unfettered access.

The boarding ramp lowers smoothly, revealing the spacecraft’s luxurious interior. You and your partner slip inside, feeling the cool, synthetic leather seats beneath you. As the canopy seals shut with a soft hiss, you exchange a glance filled with determination.

Dokyeom took the pilot’s seat, fingers caressing the controls with a practised ease. The spacecraft’s engines hum to life, vibrating beneath you as they prepare to defy gravity. You both brace yourselves with a final glance out of the transparent canopy.

The spacecraft lifts off, rising gracefully from the hangar floor. You feel the G-forces press you into your seat as you hurtle towards the heavens. The hangar doors open, revealing the starry expanse of space beyond.

You know you’ve left it all behind at that moment—your past, troubles, and the pursuit of those seeking to capture you. You and Dokyeom have stolen not just a spacecraft but a chance at freedom, and together, you soar into the unknown, leaving a trail of stardust in your wake.

“Where are we going?” Dokyeom asked as the spacecraft hovered and slowly moved along.

“AECOR” you replied.

“Why?” Dokyeom asked.

“To relax, to breathe, and to regroup,” you answered with a smile, and that was enough Dokyeom needed to know.

~~ “Wow,” Dokyeom breathed out as he disembarked from the spacecraft and set foot into AECOR.

“This is incredible.”

You find yourself standing at the edge of a breathtaking rainforest, enveloped by the magical allure of the night. The moonlight filters through the dense canopy above, casting a gentle, silver glow upon the lush foliage below. Tall trees adorned with vibrant, bioluminescent flowers seem to dance in the faint shimmer of light, their leaves rustling in a gentle, nocturnal breeze.

As you venture deeper into the rainforest, the symphony of nighttime creatures serenades your senses. Frogs and crickets play a melodic chorus while fireflies flicker like tiny stars, illuminating your path. The air is thick with the heady scent of damp earth, moss, and exotic blooms, creating an intoxicating fragrance that lingers around you.

But the true marvel of this rainforest night unfolds before you as you stumble upon a hidden gem—the waterfall. It glistens under the moon’s enchanting gaze, cascading waters a ribbon of liquid crystal tumbling from the heights above into a pristine, moonlit pool below.

The waterfall’s roar is a soothing lullaby, a constant reminder of nature’s grandeur and eternal rhythm. The moonlight dances upon the water’s surface, creating a sparkling, silvery tapestry that seems to stretch forever. Each droplet from above catches the moon’s radiance, forming a trail of liquid stardust.

You approach the pool’s edge, feeling the cool mist kiss your skin as the waterfall’s spray gently caresses your face. The night sounds intensify around you, the rainforest coming alive with its secrets and wonders. It’s a world of enchantment, where the rainforest’s beauty is magnified by the veil of night, and the waterfall stands as a shimmering testament to the timeless allure of nature.

“Isn’t it? I thought we could take a break here, considering all we’ve been doing is running and hiding. We’re safe here,” you mumble.

“Are we?” Dokyeom asks.

“Would I lead you astray?” You ask, inching closer to him.

“I don’t think you would. You wouldn’t just kiss me to manipulate me later, right?” Dokyeom asks as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. You smile at him. This was the first time the kiss from the night before was brought up.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” you mumble.

“I didn’t say I minded. I did kiss back,” Dokyeom adds, making you melt into his touch, guilt plaguing you, knowing that you would soon cause this incredible individual’s demise.

“Shall we?” You ask, motioning to the bodies of water, looking around for one slightly more private, where you both wouldn’t be recognised and could spend time with him, alone, uninterrupted, before you betray him.

Dokyeom takes your hand, guides you to a more secluded plunge pool, and stops at the edge of the water. With a soft smile, he removes your clothing piece by piece, every movement charged with an undeniable urgency. As he finishes, his eyes scan your body with fierce hunger, and his hands wander over your curves with possessiveness.

You shiver as you feel his hands slide around your waist from the back, the warmth of his touch sending shivers up and down your spine. You can feel the barely restrained desire emanating from his body.

Dokyeom pulls you closer, and you can feel his hardness against your back as he presses against you. His lips trail down to your shoulder, his breath heating your skin as his gaze travels up your neck.

Dokyeom turns you to face him, cupping your face in his hands as he trails down to your lips. His tongue probes at the corner of your mouth before sliding in, the wetness and warmth as you open your mouth to him sending you into a passionate frenzy.

Dokyeom takes your hand and leads you to the pool. As the warm water envelops you, Dokyeom slides in behind you, his chest against your back as his arms wrap around you. His hands move over your body with increasing passion as his lips go up and down your neck.

Your back arches, trying to move even closer to him. You moan in pleasure as his hardness presses against your skin, the sensation of him filled with anticipation. You can’t help but feel like you want him to take you in the water.

You and Dokyeom are both submerged in the shallow waters of the pool, your hands trailing along the smooth surface of the tiled edges. You look up at Dokyeom, a smirk on your lips as you start to move, your body drawn closer to his as your hands move expertly to his hips and you bring yourself just under the water. You feel the anticipation running through both of you as you wrap your arms around his waist and pull yourself tight against him.

You can feel Dokyeom’s breaths coming faster as he looks down at you, anticipation radiating from his eyes as you start to explore. You run your hands through his hair, feeling your tension quickly mixed with pleasure as you tilt your head back. The sensation of his skin against yours is heightened in the water, and you quicken your pace, carefully trailing your lips and tongue along his chest and stomach. His skin feels like butter beneath your mouth, begging for more attention.

You let out a soft moan as you bring your mouth up to his, your tongue tracing along his lower lip as you press against Dokyeom. He responds with a groan, his mouth eagerly meeting yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. You feel your way down from his mouth, your tongue gliding along his neck and shoulders as your hands trace his contours.

You pull away from him, an inviting smile on your lips before you go down his torso. With each movement, your mouth is greeted with eager sighs and gasps of pleasure from Dokyeom. As you reach the bottom of his stomach, you look up, the look in his eyes telling you it’s time for something different. You gaze at him momentarily, his eyes pleading, before you dip your tongue into the shallow pools of water between his legs.

Dokyeom lets out an animalistic groan as you move your mouth along his member, lapping up the waves of pleasure each stroke gives him. His body arches into you as your tongue swirls around in circles, his hands grasping your hair as you work your way up and down. You can’t help but smile against him as you hear tiny, breathy moans with each flick of your tongue, revealing that you’ve brought him to this point.

You can feel your arousal growing, and you know you’ve done the same to Dokyeom as you reach the climax together, him calling out your name as the waves of pleasure ensnare you both and pull you gently into a blissfully calm state.

You feel the heat rising as you climb out of the plunge pool and lay on the edge, reclining on your elbows, and you feel your breath hitch in anticipation and your breaths coming in shallow gasps.

Then you feel Dokyeom’s hand touching you, tracing a path from your abdomen to your chest and neck. His fingertips leave a trail of blissful heat on your skin, and you let out a contented sigh.

Dokyeom slides lower, his hand running across your inner thigh. His fingers work their way up your legs, sending sparks of pleasure shooting right to your core.

When Dokyeom finally reaches your most intimate area, you can’t help but gasp as you feel his tongue exploring you. His soft, lapping motions send waves of pleasure rippling through your body, and you find yourself pushing against his face, wanting more and more from him.

Dokyeom responds to the pressure of your body, deepening the stress and increasing the intensity of his movements. His tongue circles around your clit, sending more delightful feelings coursing through you until you feel like you’re about to combust.

And then it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your body suddenly gives way as an explosion of pleasure ripples through you, and you think your entire body is trembling with delight. You’ve just experienced the most intense and pleasurable orgasm, thanks to Dokyeom.

He stares deeply into your eyes, the look telling you he craves you just as much as you desire him.

You don’t have to wait any longer. He plunges deep inside you, his hips moving skillfully as his groans mix with yours. Your body tightens around him as he rocks into you so intensely that it sends waves of pleasure shooting through your body.

The intensity builds up until a wave of pleasure engulfs both of you. You collapse into each other, exhausted but electrified.

The afterglow slowly takes over as you lay in each other’s arms, enjoying the comfort of being surrounded by each other’s warmth.

You and Dokyeom found refuge in a small corner of AECOR, where you both held each other. It was a beautiful and peaceful moment, and you wished that you could stay in this moment forever.

“Y/N, I want you to know something. I feel safe with you for the first time in my life,” Dokyeom admitted, making you smile and guilt engulf you.

His words hung in the air, carrying the weight of his vulnerability. You look into his eyes, the depth of his emotions mirrored in his gaze. The rainforest seems to hold its breath as if nature is listening to this profound declaration.

You reach out, your hand finding his, fingers entwined.

“Dokyeom,” you reply with a voice filled with warmth and understanding.

“I’m grateful to have you in my life. We’re safe together.”

The next day, Dokyeom felt a slight throbbing pain in his head, and when he woke up, you were nowhere to be found. He wasn’t even sure how he woke up or, more importantly, how he was unconscious. Had you hurt him? Where were you? Had he been brave, he would have gone out to search, but he knew not to because he too was a target.

You find yourself in the heart of SALAX, a planet shrouded in shadows and ruled by fear. As you navigate the dimly lit paths, a chilling encounter awaits you. A mysterious figure approaches, cloaked in darkness, and with a low, ominous voice, they ask.

“Have you managed to ensnare Dokyeom yet?”

You hesitate, your mind racing as you weigh your options. You’ve infiltrated this grim city for a specific purpose, a mission that demands subtlety and caution. But the pressure to fulfil your promise hangs heavily over you, and the consequences of failure are dire.

You felt immense guilt the night before, right after Dokyeom confessed to you that he felt safe with you, when he wasn’t looking, decided to hit him hard enough to cause a slight snag in his system, which would make him shut down for a few hours. Which gave you enough time to go SALAX and see if you could get out of your deal. You couldn’t hurt Dokyeom anymore. You couldn’t hurt someone you were falling in love with.

Before you can respond, the enigmatic figure steps closer, their face concealed by shadows. “Time is running out, Y/N,” they hiss, their tone dripping with menace.

“We cannot afford delays. Alastor is growing impatient.”

The name sends a shiver down your spine—Alastor, the ruler of SALAX, a malevolent force you’ve heard whispered about in hushed tones. He is a figure of terror, and the urgency in the stranger’s voice underscores the gravity of your mission.

As you stand there, torn between your mission’s demands and the mounting pressure from Alastor’s emissary, you know that your choices in this treacherous city will have far-reaching consequences. The web of intrigue and danger in SALAX tightens around you, and you must decide whether to continue down this perilous path, knowing that failure could mean a fate worse than death.

As you leave the oppressive city of SALAX behind, the weight of guilt and conflict presses heavily upon your heart. The memories of your time in SALAX, the choices you made, and the person you had to become weigh on your conscience, and there’s no escaping the tangled web of emotions.

In the solitude of your departure, you find yourself grappling with the harsh reality of having betrayed Dokyeom, the man you had come to care for deeply. Your love for him is undeniable, a powerful force that has drawn you together in a world fraught with danger and uncertainty.

With each step away from SALAX, you replay the moments when you had to deceive him, the lies you had to tell, and the promises you couldn’t keep. The pain of knowing that you’ve broken his trust is like a dagger in your chest, and it gnaws at your soul.

But you also remember the pressure from Alastor, the ruler of SALAX, and the dire consequences that would have occurred had you not complied with his demands. It was a choice between betraying Dokyeom and facing the wrath of Alastor, and in the end, you had to prioritise your survival.

As you journey further away from SALAX, you yearn for a solution, a way to make amends for the betrayal and deception that have torn your heart in two. You know that you can’t change the past, but you’re determined to find a way to set things right.

The conflict within you rages on, tearing at your conscience and leaving you in turmoil. You find solace in the quiet moments of reflection, searching for a path forward that will allow you to reconcile your love for Dokyeom with the choices you were forced to make.

In the distance, a glimmer of hope emerges—a plan, a way to mend the trust you’ve shattered. It won’t be easy, and the road ahead is uncertain, but you’re resolved to find a solution that will bring redemption and forgiveness for yourself and the love you hold for Dokyeom.

As the spacecraft landed back in AECOR, you noticed Dokyeom standing outside the place where you last left him, and even though the space craft, you could sense the tension.

As you got off the spacecraft, you noticed that Dokyeom’s once-warm demeanour had cooled, replaced by a distant and suspicious gaze. The weight of your mission and the secrets you carry are like a boulder on your shoulders as you stand before him.

Dokyeom’s words, when they finally come, are laced with an undercurrent of passive aggression.

“Where were you?”

You can feel his scrutiny, his unspoken doubts hanging heavy in the air. The unease in your chest tightens, and you know the time has come to confront the truth.

“SALAX”

“What?”

Taking a deep breath, you decide to be honest. “Dokyeom, there are things I need to tell you,” you begin, your voice quivering with the weight of your confession.

He raises an eyebrow, his suspicion growing. “Go on.”

You recount the events of your mission in SALAX, the pressure from Alastor’s emissary, and the choices you were forced to make. You can see the anger and disappointment flicker in Dokyeom’s eyes as you speak.

When you finally finish, there’s a heavy silence between you. Dokyeom’s expression is inscrutable, and you can’t tell if he’s processing your confession or formulating his response.

After an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice cold and measured. “Y/N, I need you to understand the gravity of your actions. Trust is not something to be taken lightly. Your secrecy puts us all at risk.”

Your heart sinks as you realise the consequences of your choices. You had expected Dokyeom’s anger, but what comes next surprises you.

He leans in closer, his gaze unwavering. “Here’s your ultimatum Y/N. If you want to continue being with me, you must prove you can be trusted. No more secrets, no more hidden agendas. From now on, complete transparency. Can you do that?”

The ultimatum hangs in the air like a heavy storm cloud, and you understand the weight of his words. The trust eroded by your actions is at stake, and it’s up to you to rebuild it, one honest step at a time.

“Dokyeom, I need to confess to you,” your voice trembles slightly, but you push on, knowing that honesty is the only path forward.

His brow furrows in concern as he listens attentively, encouraging you to continue. “I... I was supposed to betray you,” you admit, the words heavy on your conscience. “There was a plan, a scheme I was involved in, but I can’t do it anymore.”

Dokyeom’s eyes widen in surprise, and he reaches out to gently hold your hand, a silent gesture of support. “What do you mean?” he asks, his voice soft and understanding.

Tears gather in your eyes as you elaborate. “I was meant to deceive you, hurt you, but I’ve realised that what we share is more important to me than anything else. I can’t go through with it, Dokyeom. I can’t betray you after everything we’ve been through.”

Silence hangs in the air, the weight of your confession palpable. You search his eyes for a sign, praying he’ll understand your turmoil and forgive your past intentions. With your heart in your throat, you wait for his response, hoping your honesty will be the bridge to mend any potential rift between you.

As you sit across from Dokyeom, the weight of your past and the secrets you’ve harboured for so long pressing heavily upon your shoulders, you take a deep breath, trying to find the courage to reveal your darkest truths.

As the realisation dawns upon Dokyeom, a heavy silence settles over the room. He stands there, his thoughts racing, trying to face the betrayal that has unfolded before him. The one person he had trusted implicitly, you, had been attempting to deceive him all along.

Dokyeom’s heart feels like it’s been gripped by an icy vice, and he struggles to find words to express the tumultuous emotions surging within him. He had opened himself up and allowed you into the innermost chambers of his life, and now he feels like a fool.

You stood before him, your eyes filled with regret and uncertainty.

Finally, Dokyeom’s voice breaks through the silence, but it’s laced with a mixture of hurt and anger. “Y/N, how could you?” His words are filled with a sense of betrayal that cuts deep.

You took a step forward, her voice trembling as you tried to explain. “Dokyeom, I... I never meant for things to get this far. It started as something I thought I had to do, but along the way, I realised...”

Dokyeom cuts you off, his anger boiling over. “Realised what? That you could play with my trust and feelings and throw it all away when it suited you?”

The room feels tense, the air heavy with the moment’s weight. Dokyeom’s trust, once unshakable, has been shattered, and he’s left to grapple with the aftermath of the betrayal.

Your eyes fill with tears as you struggle to find the right words to make amends for your actions. “Dokyeom, please, just hear me out. I never wanted to hurt you. I never thought I would care this much.”

He turns away from you, unable to bear the sight of the person who had manipulated his trust. “Y/N, I need time,” he says, his voice weary and defeated. “I need time to process this, to understand what just happened.”

“Dokyeom,” you begin, your voice quivering, “there’s something I need to tell you. Something I’ve kept hidden for far too long.”

Once warm and trusting, his eyes now hold a mix of curiosity and concern as he nods, encouraging you to continue.

“I come from a past that I’m not proud of,” you admit, gazing at the table before you. “I used to be involved in criminal activities that hurt people and went against everything I now stand for.”

Dokyeom remains silent, his expression a mixture of surprise and a hint of sadness.

Tears well up in your eyes as you recount the horrors of your past the choices you made that left scars on others and yourself. “I’ve hurt people, stolen, lied, and deceived. I could escape my past, but it’s been haunting me, and I can’t bear to keep it hidden any longer.”

Dokyeom’s gaze remains locked on you. His silence speaks volumes.

“I joined this SALAX, this mission, in the hope that I could make amends for my past,” you continue, your voice trembling with emotion. “I wanted to change, become a better person, and do something meaningful. But I understand if you can’t trust me now.”

“If I could give them you, then I would not be punished for my past,” you admit.

The room seems to close in on you as you await his response, the weight of your confession hanging heavily in the air. You fear that your past actions have damaged the trust Dokyeom once had in you.

After what feels like an eternity, Dokyeom finally speaks, his voice measured and compassionate.

“Y/N, what matters is not the person you used to be but who you’ve become. You’ve taken a courageous step by facing your past and sharing it with me.”

Dokyeom's hand finds yours, a gesture of understanding and support.

“We all have our demons, Y/N, and we all make mistakes. What’s important is that you’re trying to make amends and move forward. I believe in the person you are now, and I trust that you’ll continue to work towards the better future you’ve set your sights on.”

Tears of relief well up in your eyes as you squeeze his hand, grateful for his understanding and forgiveness. In that moment, you realise that by sharing your darkest truths, you’ve not only unburdened yourself but also strengthened the trust between you and Dokyeom. It’s a crucial step toward redemption and a brighter future where your past no longer defines who you are.

“We’ll fight it together.”

“We’ll make it out alive, Y/N,” Dokyeom promised. However, as the words left Dokyeom’s mouth, you heard a loud noise, and suddenly, you were both enveloped in a cloud of darkness.

As the darkness of night envelopes you and Dokyeom, you find yourselves ensnared in a dire predicament. Captured by unknown assailants, you're bound and blindfolded, completely at their mercy. The journey is disorienting, filled with abrupt turns and jolts, leaving you with no sense of direction.

After what feels like an eternity, the vehicle comes to a halt, and you're roughly pulled from your seats. The sound of heavy metal doors creaking open echoes in the air, and you're guided out, stumbling on unfamiliar terrain.

The blindfold is removed, and as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you realize that you're in the heart of SALAX. The planet’s cold and oppressive atmosphere is suffocating, and a sense of foreboding washes over you.

Dokyeom, still bound and disoriented, is by your side, and you exchange a glance that speaks volumes—fear, uncertainty, and the grim realization that you've been brought into the heart of a malevolent force.

Gathered around you are a group of armed figures, their faces obscured by masks and shadows. They remain silent, their intentions unclear, as they usher you both forward, deeper into the labyrinthine alleys of SALAX.

The city's eerie ambience intensifies, and you can't help but wonder what fate awaits you and Dokyeom in this dystopian realm. As you're led further into the heart of the unknown, the sense of peril deepens, and the need for a plan to escape this grim fate becomes all-consuming.

In the distant, dystopian future, amidst the cold and unforgiving landscape of a city known as SALAX, there exists a name that strikes fear into the hearts of all who dare to speak it—Alastor, the malevolent ruler of this desolate realm.

With a visage shrouded in shadows and a presence that radiates malevolence, Alastor is a figure cloaked in mystery and darkness. His iron grip on SALAX is unyielding, and his dominion extends far beyond the city’s crumbling walls. He is a tyrant of unparalleled cruelty, ruling through fear, manipulation, and an insatiable thirst for power.

The tales of Alastor’s ruthless reign are whispered in hushed tones, passed down from generation to generation. His rule is marked by oppression, surveillance, and merciless enforcers who carry out his every command without question. In his quest for dominance, he has left a trail of broken lives and shattered dreams in his wake.

Alastor’s origins remain closely guarded, hidden behind lies and deception. Some say he was once a brilliant scientist, while others claim he emerged from the depths of the city’s darkest nightmares. Regardless of his past, his present is a reign of terror that leaves no room for hope or resistance.

As the ruler of SALAX, Alastor commands a vast network of spies, informants, and ruthless enforcers, all dedicated to maintaining his oppressive regime. His fortress-like palace, situated at the city’s heart, symbolises his absolute authority. In this place, he broods over his dark ambitions and plots his next move to tighten his grip on the city’s inhabitants.

Alastor’s name is synonymous with cruelty and malevolence, a name that sends shivers down the spines of those who dare utter it. In the grim, futuristic world of SALAX, he is the embodiment of evil, a shadowy figure who rules with an iron fist and whose presence casts a long, foreboding shadow over all who dwell within his domain.

You stand before a council of stern-faced individuals, their collective disapproval palpable. The room is tense, and your heart beats heavily as you confront the consequences of your failure. The weight of their anger bears down on you, and you know that there is no escaping the harsh judgment about to be passed.

One of the council members opens his mouth to address you, his expression a mask of disappointment and anger and addresses you with a voice that cuts through the silence like a blade. “Y/N, you were entrusted with a vital task and failed us miserably.”

Your voice quivers as you attempt to offer an apology. “I... I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was an honest mistake.”

But the council members are unforgiving, their faces etched with anger and frustration. One of them, an imposing figure with a voice like thunder, bellows.

“Honest mistake or not, your failure has put us all at risk. We can’t afford such incompetence.”

The atmosphere in the room grows more hostile with each passing moment. Accusations fly, and your attempts at explaining the circumstances of your failure fall on deaf ears. The decision is made swiftly and decisively.

One of the council members, their voice filled with righteous anger, proclaims.

“Y/N, you have betrayed our trust and jeopardised our mission. You are hereby banished from our ranks.”

The words hang in the air like a death sentence, and you feel a profound sense of despair wash over you. The consequences of your actions have led to your expulsion, and there is no way to argue your way out of it.

Alastor, his gaze filled with disappointment, approaches you with a heavy heart.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice laced with regret. “I never thought I would see this day. You were once a valued team member, but your failure has left us no choice.”

“Please let me do anything else. Please spare him,” you begged.

“Oh, you still don’t understand, do you? You fell in love with him, gave him your body and love, and as a result, you are no longer of any use to us. You are done,” Alastar spoke, his words terrifying you further.

“Don’t hurt him,” you whimpered.

“He’ll be hurt, don’t you worry. He can watch the life be taken out of you. That will be his punishment.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you realise the gravity of your mistake. You had let down not only those who had trusted you but also yourself. The sense of shame and regret is overwhelming.

As you are escorted out of the room, the weight of your banishment settles upon you like a heavy shroud. You are left to face the consequences of your failure alone, the anger and disappointment of those you once considered allies echoing in your ears.

In the days that follow, you wander, a sense of purposelessness consuming you. The world outside is harsh and unforgiving, and you are left to bear the burden of your mistakes.

As you reflect on the consequences of your actions, you can’t help but wonder if there will ever be a way to make amends for your failure. The road ahead is uncertain, and the path to redemption, if it exists at all, seems long and arduous.

But one thing is clear—you must carry the weight of your punishment and learn from your failure, for it is only through facing the consequences of your actions that you can hope to find a way to redeem yourself in the eyes of those you have let down.

In the dimly lit room, the air felt heavy with anguish and despair. You and Dokyeom, bound and helpless, found yourselves in a nightmarish scenario you could never have imagined. A sinister figure, cloaked in shadows, loomed over you both, his intentions cruel and heartless.

Dokyeom watched you helplessly as you lay on the cold, unforgiving floor, your breaths shallow and laboured. The faint flicker of a dying candle cast eerie, shifting shadows on your face, emphasising the pallor of your skin.

Tears welled in your eyes as you whispered words of comfort, your voice trembling with grief. Dokyeom’s eyes met yours, filled with profound sadness and an unspoken understanding of the impending tragedy.

“Any final words?” The sinister figure asked mockingly.

“In another universe, we’ll find each other again,” you breathed out, and Dokyeom let out a string of pleas, begging for mercy.

The sinister figure, unmoved by Dokyeom’s pleas, revealed a cruel smile as he continued his evil act. Time seemed to slow as Dokyeom was forced to witness life slowly ebb away from you–the person he cherished most. Every passing moment felt like an eternity of heartache.

The room seemed to close in around you as the final breaths escaped your lover’s lips, leaving a haunting silence in their wake. Once filled with love and life, their eyes stared vacantly into the abyss.

In that agonising moment, part of you died with them, and the world became darker and colder. The anguish and helplessness etched into your memory would forever haunt your soul, a scar that time could never fully heal.

The End

Earth: Present Day

“New here, huh?” The man before you asked, and you smiled at him.

“Uh, yeah. I just moved to this town for a fresh start,” you replied unsurely, making the man smile at you.

“Why don’t you sit next to that gentleman over there? You both look rather lost. Let me grab a few things, and I’ll sort you both out,” he instructed, and you mumbled a ‘yes’ and made your way to another lost-looking soul.

“Sorry, is this seat taken?” You asked the stranger. He looked up at you. He had a kind face, warm eyes, and a loving smile. But something about this man was familiar like you had met him once in a dream, in a different life. It makes your heart race and mind run wild with possibilities. You knew him. You just didn’t know how.

“Nope, have a seat,” he offered kindly.

“So you’re also lost in a new town, huh?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, just, I guess, sorted landed on my ass,” you joked, making him laugh and clap his hands.

“Same, hey, we’re both lost. I guess we could be friends? I promise you, I won’t bite,”

“I don’t see why not,” you responded.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced, holding your hand to him.

“Sounds familiar for some reason,” the stranger responded.

“Funny, I wanted to say the same to you,” you admitted.

“I’m Seokmin,” he said, shaking your hand.

“I wish the name rang a bell, but maybe I’m going crazy,” you added, making him smile.

“Maybe in another universe, we once knew each other?” Seokmin offered.

#seventeen #dokyeom #seventeen fic #svthub #indigo writes: seokmin #kvanity #svt sci-fi collab

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jen-with-a-pen · 7 months

Text

ALL TIED UP - TWO

Previous ⊹ Series

summary: The start of the week that changed everything. Bucky and Sam propose something that Steve shouldn't have agreed to. A good brother is a good brother, though... right?

pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

word count: 1.17k

warnings: Bucky and Sam are true frat bros, Clint and Tony are somewhere I swear, annoying roommates, plot development

a/n: never thought i'd see the day again but: here's chapter two! i'm excited to keep building this world and to drag everyone along for the ride. again: mind the slowburn and plot dev, i promise i'm getting there ♥

The most specialest of special thanks to two of my loves @vonalyn and @lunarbuck for helping me flesh out this idea and enable me in my destruction ♥ i owe you both a beefy alpha soon

gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Last Monday.

“Rogers! Rogers! We know you’re in there!”

“Yeah, c’mon, Stevie! We need t’ talk!”

Fists bang on the flimsy wooden door to Steve’s bedroom, threatening to break it down. Steve rubs his face with the back of a (cleaner) hand as music continues to blare out of his earbuds, charcoal dust from his latest drawing assignment now caking his desk, hands, and floor. He groans. Irritation and a slew of curses beg to launch off his tongue. Pressing his lips together tightly, Steve tosses his earbuds onto his desk and shoves back his chair. The legs scrape against the old wood flooring, screeching loudly and announcing his surrender as he walks to the door. He unlocks it– undoing the deadbolt, too– and swings it open, eyes shooting sharpened daggers at the stupid, knowing grins plastered on his frat brothers’ faces.

Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson beam at Steve, trouble and mischief brewing behind their eyes.

As the heads of the household and leaders of the Sigma Beta Theta (ΣΘΒ) Fraternity, one of the oldest– and most infamous– frats in Richards College Greek life, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson were known campus and state-wide for their level of commitment in Greek life. Fourth years in whatever program they’re enrolled in, Steve couldn’t recall; some rumors claimed they were ‘Super Seniors’ who decided they couldn’t bear to part with their beloved frat. Others said they’ve been out of school, already graduated a year or two before, but were still allowed to run the frat since Bucky’s step-daddy was elected Dean a couple years back. The timing lined up, Steve had surmised, once he’d been pledged.

Sam and Bucky each prided themselves in their muscular, god-like statures to their own accord. Their builds were accentuated by broad shoulders, thick arms and thighs, abs hard enough to crack an egg– and each had one hell of a sex drive, Steve learned, during his first night in the house.

He adapted rather quickly to falling asleep with his earbuds in. The risk of choking on his own headphone cord was worth a better night’s sleep than lying awake to the constant thump thump thump-ing that came clearly through the walls surrounding his room. Every. Fucking. Night.

But, Steve had to hand it to them. Even they weren’t entirely self-centered. They still thought and cared about their frat and fellow brethren: mandating daily workouts in the morning (no matter how early your first class is), requiring frat colors to be worn to every sporting event (even chess), and everyone being forced to take a minimum of three shots at every house-held party (including ones during weekdays, midterms, finals, and holidays).

Steve had been reluctant since the moment he signed his name on the scholarship contract. Something that day made him feel as if he’d signed his life away. He knew that joining a frat was an integral part of his full-ride– that he promised his mother ‘college was taken care of’ so she wouldn’t have to pick up even more shifts at the county hospital. What he didn’t know was which frat to join. That part was up to him. Sigma Theta Beta chose him more than he chose it.

Steve blinks.

Sam and Bucky lean against either side of the doorway, waggling their brows at Steve and glancing from one another to him. Steve rolls his eyes, sighing heavily with an annoyed edge. He swallows the curses and puts on the most neutral tone he can possibly muster.

“What.”

Shit.

Bucky hitches a shoulder and looks to Sam, who exaggeratedly clears his throat.

“Rogers! You gotta stop lookin’ so mean, man!”

“You made me mess up my drawing, again, man,” Steve seethes through clenched teeth. Sam waves a hand absently.

“Ah, you’ll be alright,” he scoffs, “anywho, Buck n’ I–”

“Don’t call me Buck,” Bucky growls.

“–ahem, Bucky and I heard from a lil’ birdy that it’s your birthday this weekend–”

“–and we were wondering,” Bucky chimes in, as if on cue, “if we could dedicate this weekend’s party to you!”

Steve blanches. His brow furrows after a second, suspicion stabbing him in the gut.

“You,” he points to both brothers, “Wanna throw a party this weekend. For me?”

Bucky and Sam nod in unison, grins and gazes growing.

“Yeah, man! You deserve it,” Bucky says, clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Sam quickly copies him. It’s not reassuring in the slightest.

“Why?”

“Because! As an official pledge, newbies always get thrown a birthday party,” Sam drives an index finger into Steve’s chest.

Steve raises his brow, but buries it again after giving the proposal more than a millisecond of thought.

“My birthday was in July. I wasn’t even pledged yet.”

Sam huffs, smile faltering as he looks to Bucky with slight annoyance behind his eyes.

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, it was, but,” Bucky mirrors Sam’s prodding finger digging into Steve’s sternum, “this is for your fraternity birthday. Plus, you’re the first pledge in three years, so you get an extra special celebration.”

Their grins begin to make Steve squirm. He pushes their hands off him. The whole thing feels dirtier than his own, charcoal-covered hands. He can see through their shitty façade of charisma, but can’t make out what’s on the other side. Whatever it is, it makes him feel uneasy and ungrateful at the same time.

He’s been the newbie for the last few weeks, and all he’s done is keep to himself and draw for hours in his room. He hasn’t made any real friends, aside from the exchanged niceties from a classmate or two in his gen ed courses. He should be getting out there, getting to know his housemates– his ‘brothers’– better, shouldn’t he? After all, he is an only child. He didn’t grow up with the siblings Bucky, Sam, or Clint did. Tony was an only child, sure, but Steve couldn't find another thing to even relate to the guy about.

He should trust them, give this thing a shot.

Right?

Steve looks Bucky up and down cautiously before turning to Sam, sighing and plastering on a half-smile.

“Alright, sure. I’m game.”

Bucky and Sam erupt into fist pumps and high fives while Steve stands in the threshold with a knife in his gut jamming further and further into his innards.

“You’re gonna have the time of your fuckin’ life, Stevie,” Bucky reassures him. His fingers dig deeper into Steve’s shoulder and he flinches at the bruising pain. For a split second, he swears he sees a glint of something dark in Bucky’s eyes. Something dangerous. He can’t help but respond with a mumbled ‘okay’ before the two leave to raid the kitchen downstairs.

Steve turns back into his room, shutting and locking the door and before leaning back against it. His head falls back, cushioned by jackets and sweatshirts hanging from their hooks. He rubs his face, no longer caring about the gritty charcoal covering his face.

What the fuck did he agree to?

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evesaintyves · 7 months

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trick or treat 👻🎃❤️

thank you @whinlatter 💕

you get a snippet of my shitty first draft of the Beasts tribute fic i started. for non-whinlatters, Beasts is her absolutely astonishing Ginny & the Weasley family fic that follows her postwar seventh year at Hogwarts, intertwined with glimpses of her development as a child & teenager, and there's a brief mention of a care facility where recipients of the Dementor's kiss live out the rest of their lives. Highly recommend this fic - it's just such a rich portrayal of the whole Weasley family, the fraught rebuilding process after the war, and Ginny's emotional & intellectual life.

tw: illness, death, and very unpleasant hospital stuff

this idea of what happens to people after they've been kissed by a dementor really spoke to me for a few reasons - i couldn't help but think about some of the things i've seen in my professional life. i work in a healthcare specialty i can't really name without potentially doxing myself (it's a small world) and early in my career i occasionally participated in testing to determine death by neurologic criteria - essentially, flat lines on an eeg, which is a really terrible thing to see if you know what you're looking at. it's a difficult thing to even comprehend, especially for a parent - that a child who was splashing in the pool a few hours ago, now seemingly asleep, will not wake up, is damaged so profoundly that they they will never take another unassisted breath. i also regularly worked with people who were incarcerated in the state prison system. it taught me a lot about - let's keep it short and just say inhumanity: in the american healthcare system and especially where it intersects with the criminal justice system, and, unfortunately, in some of my colleagues and the way they cared for their incarcerated patients.

in my current role i work with a lot of patients who just aren't going to get better, who are entirely dependent on caregivers to keep them alive and maintain their quality of life. and it is - i hope you'll understand when i say this i say it as someone who is devoted and privileged to do it - often difficult and demoralizing work. for families and for staff.

my youngest sister was one of these people: she suffered a hemorrhage in infancy which resulted in serious damage to her brain. she never spoke, walked, fed or bathed herself. it was difficult to know what she understood, perceived, felt, wanted. she was a beautiful, calm, sweet-natured child who was easy to love; not every family in our position is so fortunate. it was also easy for us to project on her an interior life that may or may not have really been there, which was a great comfort to my mother. but her daily care needs were enormous, taxing, frustrating, and her inevitable deterioration and death were devastating to witness.

obviously i don't really want to equate people with brain injuries and whatever other special needs with people in the hp universe who no longer have souls - that's part of the reason i've struggled with this fic. there are a lot of potentially-unanswerable questions about the humanity and interiority of victims of soul-removal in this fictional context, but i think the only responsible practice for a clinician working with such patients would be to assume that they still feel, experience, and need what any other person who cannot care for themselves would. including not just nutrition, hygiene, etc. but also company and touch and positive regard. and that whatever crime, even atrocity, they might have committed is irrelevant to my duty to them as a caregiver. but that is easier to say than to do, consistently, every day, at home or in a medical facility, and i know from experience that it won't always happen that way.

anyway, if for some reason you have read this far, here's an excerpt from the story, complete with first-draft placeholders where i decided to rethink some dumb on-the-nose character names, lol. it needs to be rewritten from scratch, honestly. it's set at the end of GoF, when Madame Pomfrey is tasked with removing the house-elf Winky from Barty Crouch, Jr.'s side after he has received the kiss, and I've decided for the purposes of this silly little fic that she has experience in the care facility where he'll end up.

working title is My Beautiful Dead Friends.

Minerva saw the whole horrible thing and it was all over her face, what it had done to her. Poppy has never seen it happen, and neither had [supervisor], which seemed to irritate him; he'd read about it in books. The soul emits a colourless glow as it exits, he said, visible for an instant before it is consumed. For some time in the eighteenth century the Kiss was performed in public, on a platform raised above Diagon Alley. People would bring their children. There were woodcuts depicting the moment, dementors in swirling curlicues, the bound hands and dark mouth of the convicted, and the soul, represented as a star or sometimes a tiny naked man, caught in the moment of transit. It was striking how carefully, how delicately, the little soul was etched, with lines of light coming off it. Even the soul of a murderer, a beautiful shining thing. Minerva had marched Barty to the infirmary dozens of times in his schooldays. Sometimes because Horace wasn't fond of the long walk, nor of standing up to his own students, but often because it was one of her Gryffindors who'd done it to him. He was there all the time, hexed, cursed, punched in the face. It seemed, at first, simply the lot of the delicate-featured son of the head of law enforcement to be regularly trounced. He gave at least as good as he got and sometimes there'd be an entire queue of students behind him covered in boils, missing or extra limbs, pinching their nostrils to stop the bats from flapping out. Barty might chuckle through a mouth of blood while she saw to him, or he might writhe and moan as if in agony; Poppy had a suspicion that it depended on whether there was a Hogmeade weekend or an exam coming up. It wasn't only the usual interhouse skirmishes with Barty—Once, he limped to the hospital wing on his own, so badly beaten she had to put him out for a while and repair his perforated intestines with dozens of tiny movements of the tip of her wand. When he came to, she asked him what had happened, who had done this. He grinned at her with half his teeth gone. "Jusht the cosht of doing businesh, Madame," he said. Bubbles of red on his lips as he spoke. She found out later from Filius that he'd scammed a bunch of Ravenclaws into a sort of pyramid scheme, buying and reselling junk from Zonko's to each other. She was sure he didn't need the money: his robes were clasped with real-silver fasteners in the shapes of snakes. His mother came to take him home for the weekend after that one. He pressed the side of his face into the bosom of her robes and sobbed pitifully while Poppy left them to it behind a screen. On his way out the door, later, he waved to her, like, see you soon! Now he looks content, drowsy, like he's just had a meal. It was always hard to square the faces of the Kissed with what they'd done. Barty could almost be his seventh-year self, resting in the lull of a potion—though he might have already been a murderer by then, she realised. His hands, which had once aimed waves of pain so brutal they'd evicted poor Alice and Frank Longbottom from their own minds, are laced together at rest on his stomach. His thumbnail picks occasionally at the wand-callus on his forefinger. Some unlucky trainee healer will be alarmed by that one day. The Kissed do those little things. Their eyes follow you, sometimes, across the room. They smack their lips when they swallow the bubblemint-flavoured nutrition potion. They sit up in bed. "Look—he's doing it—I've told you—" Llanzo's mother had once cried, summoning the whole staff to come and see. She was tickling Llanzo's ribs with her fingers, and his lips had pulled back, his chest was jerking with spasms of laughter, no sound but a sort of clicking in his throat. "It's a reflex," [supervisor] told her. Llanzo's younger brother slumped in his bedside chair and stared sourly at his mother. She got angry, understandably, and shouted a bit before storming out.

"A rat will make a rhythmic sound if you tickle its belly," [supervisor] told Poppy in private. "You can call it laughter, if you like."

Llanzo was the only one who ever got visitors. He'd been accused of leading a nine-year-old witch away from her parents at Gray's beach and leaving her face-down, strangled, in the shallow mud of the Thames. His mother had given an alibi, which wasn't enough to keep him from being arrested, and he'd been shipped off to Azkaban to be held pending trial. As they'd approached the jagged rocks of the island he'd broken his bonds somehow and heaved himself over the side of the boat. Escape, suicide, or just some motiveless panic, it wasn't clear, but when they'd caught him and hauled him onshore the Dementors had fallen on him at once. He was seventeen, on his summer holidays. Lying in bed on the ward a year later he still looked like a child. Poppy wasn't sentimental, as a rule, but at the end of shift after those visits she'd sometimes have to have a little cry in the car park before she apparated home. "If you ask me I think she's on to something," Catherine told her once, in low tones, eyes on [supervisor]'s office door. "I've seen things. The way they look up at you. You can leave them on the pot for an hour, they won't do a thing, then as soon as they're back on the bed, haven't even had time to get a nappy out—" she made a squelching sound in her cheek. "Pure spite, I swear."

His mother came back the following week, brother in tow, and sat with him reading from Quidditch Through the Ages, turning the book to show him the moving illustrations. Sometimes his gaze moved to land on them and sometimes it didn't. "He was a Chaser," she told Catherine, who'd come to give him a bath. "Fast as anything. His Dad and I were both hopeless on a broom, but he's—" She swallowed hard. Llanzo was smiling faintly, as he often did when he got his bath. His breath came in soft vocal sounds that were almost sighs. "—he's my superstar," she finished. When they left, she made his brother say goodbye to him. Poppy was scrubbing up at the bedside sink to do his skin integrity assessment. Llanzo's brother gripped his hand, and leaned down as if to kiss him on the cheek. "Fucking die," he whispered, lips almost touching Llanzo's motionless face.

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imagining-in-the-margins · 2 years

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CM Forbidden Love Fic Rec List

Hey everyone! I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who participated - it was so much fun to write alongside you all, and I can’t wait to share everyone’s hard work.

Second, BIG shoutout to the people who wrote Luke, Hotch, Ralvez, Temily, and Helle! You are so appreciated, and the diversity only makes these events better.

Without further ado, here are all of the entries + recs for the Forbidden Love Challenge!

SFW Spencer Reid

Forbidden Fruit by me: (Fem!Reader) When Professor Reid falls in love with a student, he learns why Adam choked on the Forbidden Fruit.

Not In That Way by @goldentournesol: (Fem!Reader) Spencer's TA falls in love with him.

Back to December by @goldentournesol: (Fem!Reader) Soulmate!AU where Spencer and Reader are not each other's soulmate.

Aaron Hotchner (16+)

If Loving You is Wrongby @ofwilliamandwalter: (Fem!Reader) When Y/N has a one night stand with her best friend's boss, she realized just how wrong things are. Lucky for her, the man she slept with doesn't want to be right.

NSFW S.R. Oneshots (18+)

Inescapable by @mercy-burning: (Fem!Reader) Years of tension under the surface between two friends comes to a head one night, leading them to believe that some relationships are just inescapable, no matter how forbidden they may be.

Summer's a Knife by @andiebeaword: (Fem!Reader) After spending two semesters in Dr. Spencer Reid’s Criminology class, Reader has developed a bit of a crush. During the following summer, she sees him again at a bar.

My Boss’s Daughter by me: (Fem!Reader) Spencer’s fling with his boss’s daughter is definitely going to get him fired.

Femme Fatale by me: (Fem!Reader) Unit Chief Reid is in over his head with the newest BAU member.

Icarus and the Moon by me: (Fem!Reader) Spencer is in love with a criminal… again.

Study Session by me: (Fem!Reader) Spencer really hates his student, but he can’t resist her.

Yellow Light by me: (Fem!Reader) Everyone thinks Reader is dangerous. Probably because she’s Cat’s sister. But is that why Spencer likes her?

Tell Ourselves a Good Lie by @writer-in-theory: (GN!Reader) Spencer falls for the one person who is untouchable to him: his sponsor. He knows it’s a bad idea, but is he willing to take the risk?

During a Look by @zoeschnauzi1: (Male!OC) After Aaron and Maeve, Spencer didn’t expect to fall in love again until she meets a young student Ryan Evans and has to make a decision regarding her feelings.

Red Lips and Rosy Cheeks by @samuel-de-champagne-problems: (Fem!Reader) Spencer Reid is a wallflower. But what happens to wallflowers when they’re invited to the dancefloor?

NSFW S.R. Series (18+)

The Birds & The Bees by me: (Fem!Reader) Reader interviews for a position as Dr. Spencer Reid’s Teaching Assistant, and Spencer learns something special about her.

Lily of the Valley by me: (Fem!Reader) Spencer was found guilty but mentally ill after the torture and murder of several men. He finds solace in his psychiatrist at the institution.

Lessons in Deviance by @fortheloveofwonderland: (Fem!Reader) Reader is smart enough to know that playing dumb to get more help from your incredibly attractive professor was a bad idea

Luke Alvez (18+)

Forbidden Fruit by @reidgraygubler: (Fem!Reader) Luke becomes a priest to help forgive his past sins and fight his temptations with the devil.

Ralvez/Reader (18+)

Pillow Talk by @fortheloveofwonderland: (Fem!Reader) When the new intern at the BAU says what sounds like Spencer and Luke’s name in her sleep, the boys are determined to find out which one of them she’s interested in. But what if it’s both of them?

Reidams (18+)

Already Got Your Heart by @andiebeaword: Spencer’s fresh out of prison, lying to his team once again. Did Cat Adams manage to dig her claws all the way to his heart?

Temily (18+)

Lead the Way by @foxy-eva: When Tara finds Unit Chief Emily in her hotel room at night, they need to figure out who really is in charge.

Helle

Happy Birthday, Elle by StupidSexyCopShows (Ao3): Elle knows Hotch is married. Unrequited pining ensues.

(Thank you for writing and reading with me. Let me know if you'd like me to add your story to this list!)

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suckerforcate · 1 year

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I want you, just you

Pairing: Joyce Byers×OC, Robin Buckley×sister

Word count: 2601

Warnings: some smut at the end

Summary: You are Robin's older sister and friends with Steve, Jonathan and Nancy. You always hang out at Jonathans and often help Joyce cook dinner for all of you. You developed a massive crush on her and one day you ask her out on a date. Joyce knows that your gay because you helped Will with coming out to her.

A/n: So I haven't posted anything in a while and I had this fanfic in my drafts for quite a while but never got myself to finishing it. But I have a few new ideas and wanted to finish it before I start something new. So here it is. Hope you like it!♡

"My god, just ask her out already. The worst that can happen is that she says no."

"It's not that easy Robin! What are Jonathan and Will gonna think?"

"They both love you endlessly, they won't care. They just want their mom to be happy. Asking her out won't kill you." Claire turned around and raised an eyebrow at that statement.

"Then why don't you tell Nancy how you feel about her?"

"That's totally different, she's in a relationship. You know that. Joyce is single and I don't want to listen to your sad, self pitying anymore. So. Ask. Her. Out. End of discussion." Robin grabbed her bag and left the shop.

Claire Buckley worked in a little flowershop a few houses next to the shop Joyce Byers worked in. Her shift usually ended an hour before Joyces, so she always waited for her after closing the shop and then drove her home. They knew each other through Jonathan. Claire was friends with him, Steve and Nancy. They often hung out at the Byers house and when Will also had his friends over, there were a lot of mouths to feed. So Claire often helped Joyce with cooking and making dinner ready. She loved it, just the two of them talking and laughing. Joyce knew that Claire was gay, Will accidentally told her, when he was talking about the way that Claire helped him with coming out.

Today wasn't a busy day so she closed the shop early. Before leaving she made a little bouquet out of beautiful pink-yellowish roses for Joyce.

Claire knew Robin was right, asking her out wasn't such a big deal and normally she was pretty confident in everything she did but Joyce made her legs wobbly and her heart beat so fast it felt like having a heartattack.

After closing the shop Claire walked up and down the sidewalk like an idiot in front of the shop and thought about what to say. She really didn't want to fuck this up, besides the whole crushing situation Claire really liked Joyce. She had been so accepting, when Claire came out and had always been there for her. Robin was a fabulous sister but she had her own baggage to cary with struggling and coming out. It was nice to have someone just listen to you and tell you it would all be alright. And cooking with Joyce always made her day and she enjoyed the calming effect that she had on her. After about 5 minutes of walking a hole into the sidewalk Claire entered the shop.

"Hey Joyce, it's me. I closed the shop a little earlier." Claire walked over to a free counter and sat down.

"Ah, there you are. Not much business today here either." Joyce sat down next to her and smiled at her. That bright, loving smile gave Claire some confidence.

"I brought you some flowers."

"Thank you Claire, they're beautiful. They'll get a special place at home." She smiled at the flowers and seemed to be caught up in her thoughts. It was so easy to fall in love with her, Claire thought. Or maybe that was just her opinion.

"I... I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure, what is it?" Joyce looked up to her and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Would you go on a date with me? We could go to a restaurant, or I'd cook for you." Her smile faded a bit and Claire directly hated herself for ever having asked. She stood up and walked away from the counter, the flowers still in her hand.

"Aren't I a bit too old for you?" She chuckled sarcastically. Joyce felt a wave of insecurity rush over her, she didn't think that Claire would make such a cruel joke but she doubted that she really wanted something from her. Why would she? Claires smile dropped immediately.

"I..." she had never thought about the age difference before, her concernes always lied somewhere else. The kids, her maybe not liking woman, the town gossip...

"I never thought about our age difference to be honest. It never mattered to me." Claire stood up and walked towards her, she still had her back to her but the flowers weren't in her hands anymore.

Claire slowly put a hand on Joyce's shoulder and another one on her waist. She closed her eyes and she could feel her sink into the touch and visibly relax. Joyce felt safe when Claire touched her, it wasn't something she understood but it was something she always denied herself because she never thought the feeling could be reciprocated.

Moving close to her ear with her mouth Claire whispered: "It doesn't matter, you hear me. It doesn’t change the way I feel about you and I wouldn't ask you out on a date if I didn't mean it. Believe me. So, what's your answer?" Joyce really wanted to believe her, she wanted to so bad. So she did. She risked being hurt. She was tired of denying herself basic needs.

She opened her eyes again and moved her head slightly into Claires direction. Their faces were inches away from each other.

"Okay, cook for me." Claire started smiling without even trying to and turned Joyce around. She moved her head up to look into Claire's eyes and shyly smiled at her.

"Close the shop, noone will come. And if they do, they can wait until tomorrow. I'll drive you home." She nodded and started closing.

--------------

Claire stopped the car infront of the house and as Joyce wanted to leave the car, Claire grabbed her arm. The older woman turned to look at her.

"Tomorrow, 7 o'clock?" Joyce nodded and with a smile she left the car. Claire waited until she was in the house and the door was closed. With a bright smile on her face she left, excited to tell Robin about the latest events.

"You'll never believe what just happened. I need you out of the house tomorrow." Robin hadn't even closed the door yet but Claire already threw the words at her.

"Ok, chill. I really have to pee. After that you can tell me." Claire rolled her eyes but accepted and walked back to sit down on the sofa.

Her thoughts directly wandered to Joyce, just thinking about her made her feel like a teenager again. It felt like there were thousands of butterflys in her stomach. She had never felt like this before.

"Claire? Hello, earth to Claire?!" Robin was wildly waving her hands in front of Claires face to get her attention. "So what did you want to tell me, huh?" Claire immediately started to smile like an absolute idiot.

"I did it. I asked Joyce out. And...she said yes! Can you believe it. We have a date tomorrow at 7 o'clock. I'll cook for her. That why I'll need you out of here at least until the next morning. You never now what will happen." Claire winked at her sister and smiled sheepishly.

"Well thas amazing Claire. I told you it won't be bad to ask her. Honestly if I wouldn't have forced you, you would still cry about her. So you can basically thank me."

"Oh, shut up. I would have done it sooner or later."

They both laughed. Happy to have each other and to have someone who understands them.

----------------------

"Oh. Hi, Joyce. Please come in, Claire is in the kitchen. Claire! Joyce is here. I'll leave now. Bye" with that Robin closed the door behind her and Joyce was left alone in the hallway. She didn't really know what to do so she took her jacket of and went to look for Claire. Right in that moment Claire opened a door at the other end of the hallway.

"Hello Joyce. I thought my sister would have enough manners to actually show you where the kitchen is and not just leave. Come in." Joyce stepped forward unsure how to greet Claire she just looked up at her and laughed nervously.

"Do I hug you now?" Claire let out a laugh at that.

"If you want to, then yes." So Joyce stood up on her tiptoes and hugged Claire. At that Claire felt a shiver go through her whole body. She buried her head deep in Joyce's hair and felt completely at ease for the first time in a long time.

Claire let go before it got awkward and showed Joyce the living room.

"You can sit down. I'll just grab the food real quick."

"I could help."

"No." Claire protested, "You're my guest and I'll treat you as such." With that she left the room just to come back with two bowls of food a second later.

"Mhh, that smells amazing Claire." She smiled at Joyce and they started to eat.

They talked about everything that came to mind. It felt absolutely natural and they both felt comfortable around each other. This date wasn't their last one. They met multiple times after that. Never doing much more than having dinner, talking or going to the movies. But that was fine with them. They wanted to take it slow.

----------------------

It was a cold Friday evening, Claire had cooked for Joyce again and they both sat on the couch together laughing about a story Claire had just told about her sister. Joyce laughed so sincerely that Claire just stopped and looked at her in awe. She was so damn beautiful. Without really noticing Claire got closer to Joyce. When she opened her eyes again, Claire was so close to her that she stopped laughing abruptly out of shock.

"I..., Claire what are you doing?"

"If you won't protest I would like to kiss you." Joyce eyes grew wide in shock. She guessed it was logical that all the dates would lead to this but still she wasn't sure how to feel about this. She knew that she wanted it but still she still couldn't believe that Claire was sincere in her intention.

Joyce backed away a little.

"I.., Claire if all of this. All the dates, the cooking was just to get into my pants, I can assure you there is nothing grande under those clothes. So you should search for someone your age for that." Claire felt a wave of sadness wash over her. Did Joyce actually believe that? Didn't she make clear that she liked her?

"Joyce, please listen to me." She took Joyce's hands in hers and looked at her with all the sincerity and love she had in her.

"All of the things that I did for you, all the dates we had, all the hours we sat here talking, laughing about stupid things. All of this, I did because I really like you. Because I enjoy your company. And if I wanted to kiss you or sleep with you, that's just because I think your stunning, I feel butterflys everytime I look at you and I want you. Not anyone else, just you. But if you don't want all of that. That's ok, we don't have to do this."

"But why me? I'm not special, neither me as a person nor the way I look. I'm just Joyce."

"And that's exactly what I want. You, Joyce. With all your flaws, all you fears, insecurities and problems. You are beautiful, please you have to belive me. I've had this crush on you since I've known you and it took all the courage in me to ask you out, because I thought you would never want to date me. So know that you allowed me to be such an intimate part of your life and let me get to know you even more, I want to protect you with all I have and make you understand how wonderful you are. I've realised that what I feel for you is so much more than a crush." Joyce let out a shy laugh at that and stroked a strand of hair out of Claires face.

"I don't think anyone has ever said something so beautiful to me." Claire grabbed Joyce's face and before she could overthink it, she kissed her.

It was by all means not a perfect kiss, but it was full if love and desire. It felt like all the butterflys in Claires stomach wanted to break out. And the feeling made it perfect, better than any other kiss could ever be.

Claire's hand slowly wandered down to start unbuttoning Joyce shirt. She stopped for a second to wait for consent. When Joyce slightly nodded, she took the shirt of and threw it to the floor. She pushed Joyce's hair aside and started to kiss her neck and then her shoulder. She slowly pushed Joyce down until she was laying in front of her and continued kissing her, while slowly wandering down to her breasts.

"Take it off, take your shirt of." Claire stopped to follow Joy's request. To Joyce surprise Claire wasn't wearing a bra, so she was practically naked in front of her.

"Claire, I think you should know, that I have never slept with a woman before." Joyce looked at Claire with an apologising smile. Claire moved up and kissed Joyce passionately.

"I don't care." She grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to her. She wanted to feel all of Joyce skin on hers. While kissing her, her hand slowly opened Joyce pants and started to move them down a bit. She could feel Joyce lift up her hips against her. It drove her crazy how much she wanted that woman. She never thought something like this would be possible.

As the pants landed on the floor, Claire started kissing her way down Joyce's body and grabbed behind her to open the bra that was still covering Joyce's breasts. When she moved up a little to look at Joyce, she covered her body. So Claire shoved her hands away. "Don't. You look amazing. I want to see you." She started slightly kissing her breasts and took one nipple in her mouth while pinching the other one. Joyce tried to suppress a moan but failed as Claire sucked harder. "Please, I want to hear you. Let it out." At that Joyce moaned again, this time not trying to suppress anything. At that sound Claire's vagina pulsated and her whole body got goosebumps. She started wandering further down and took of the panties, that were the only item of clothing Joyce was still wearing. Joyce clenched to the cushions closest to her while Claire started kissing and licking her already wet cunt. With one hand Joyce shoved Claire deeper into her and held onto her hair. "Oh god, Claire...please" Claire stopped much to Joyce disappointment and looked up. "Please what? Use your words.", "Please I need more, please fuck me", Claire chuckled, amused by Joyce's neediness. "Your wish is my command." With that she resumed her actions but also slowly put two fingers inside her. Joyce's was already throbbing from lust. The moaning got louder and fastly turned into a kind of lustful and erotic screaming. Something Claire had never heard before but it turned her on quite alot. "Claire, please. I'm gonna come.. I...Oh god, that feels amazing." With a last loud scream Joyce came with Claires name on her lips.

Claire slowly moved up to Joyce and kissed her.

"Thank you, I never knew sex could feel like this." Claire smiled at her and stood up she reached out for Joyce and took her to the bedroom, where they fell asleep curled up together.

#stranger things #joyce byers #robin buckley #own character #joyce byers x reader #joyce x reader #joyce byers x you #winona ryder #winona ryder x reader

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dreamalittledreamofcopia · 11 months

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fire flies -- cardinal copia x reader

After a stressful day in the abbey, you and Copia take some time to unwind in the courtyard at dusk.

reader is feminine, not quite copia’s girlfriend but they are more than friends. the ghouls are mythical creatures (so far i think half elves, but i’m going to develop this idea more) // 3.0k words.

i tagged this with papa iv but it does take place in his cardinal days because i don't want to move on yet

You sighed and fell onto a couch in Copia’s office, covering your face with your hands. He had called you in on your day off to ask for help, and you didn’t mind that. It was more of you volunteering so you could spend time with him than him calling you in, but the task he was struggling with was a behemoth. You didn’t blame him for wanting help but you still mourned the little bit of you that died that day at the hands of Sister Imperator and her assignments.

Copia frowned as he watched you cross the room and plop onto the couch. He same over and sat next to you, wrapping you up gently in his arms, “Tesoro… thank you for your help today.” He said softly, hoping it was enough to make you feel better.

“You’re welcome, Cardinal,” you whispered back, curling up in his arms, “I’m glad you let me help.”

Copia gently took both of your hands in his, moving them off of your face slowly. He leans in and places a kiss on your cheek, taking his time and lingering for a moment. You smiled and let your head roll onto his shoulder, mumbling another thank you.

“Prego,” Copia replied, setting his hand on your bare thigh. Since it was your day off, you came in without your usual habit. When Copia saw you in casual clothes, no matter how often he did, his heart almost always jumped out of his throat. This time, you entered his office wearing a black sun dress and black platform sandals, your hair down and clipped off to the side. He had stopped calling you sister and went straight to darling.

A few moments of silence past as you both rested your heads, holding onto each other for balance in the stillness of the room. A beep from your phone pulled you out of your reverie and as you checked it, Copia took the opportunity to check the time on his watch. He turned back to you and watched you scroll, text, and tap, the light from your phone shining brighter in the gradually dimming room.

Even with the overhead light on, the room still transitioned in time with the setting sun. You set your phone down on Copia’s thigh, feeling his gaze on you as the orange sun reflected in the hue of your eyes. Copia gave you a smile before giving you another soft kiss on your cheek, his body passing in front of your vision.

“Tesoro… how might I thank you for your help today?” Copia whispered in your ear softly before placing a kiss at the top of your jaw, the closeness making you shiver.

“That really isn’t necessary, Cardinal,” you replied, looking up into his eyes as he pulled away, “Helping you is my job, I don’t deserve anything special.”

“Oh, nonsense,” he smiles down at you and brushes your hair behind your ear, “Let me take you for coffee.”

“Cardinal it’s eight at night!” You laughed and leaned into his touch unwittingly, the way you always did. The impulse you could never control, but Copia was glad you did it without thinking. Your instincts were tuned to him, and he was spoilt.

“That’s never stopped me before,” he grinned, nudging his nose against yours.

“That’s why you have insomnia, Copia.”

You giggled as he pouted, pulling his head back from you but still keeping his hands on your body. “I’m an Italian man, tesoro. We do coffee and desserts, it’s in my blood.”

“Well let’s do that tomorrow, then,” you smiled, being the one this time to lean in and kiss his cheek affectionately. You felt him stiffen in surprise but melt into enjoyment when he placed his hands on your back. “We’ll get breakfast in the morning, how’s that?”

“Si, si cara…” he whispered blissfully, and you could hear the dopey smile on his face. “But I still wish to thank you tonight.”

That was code for: I’m not ready to let you go yet, I’m not ready to live without you, please don’t leave me so soon, don’t you want to spend your night with me?

I do, I do, I do. "Well Rain just texted me and said that all the ghouls are outside, we could stop by.” You offered, a hopeful gleam in your eyes. “It’s a beautiful night out.”

“Tell them to meet us at our spot, then,” Copia smiles and hands you your phone before he stands up, holding his hand out to you. “I can’t think of a better way to wind down.”

The spot mentioned was a porch swing that sat on the lawn of the abbey. The bars were iron and the canopy and cushions were a pale, peachy green. It was where you and the Cardinal shared lunches, read to each other on breaks, and often embraced in the mornings before entering the abbey and exchanging the endearments you used with each other for the honorifics sanctioned by the authority of the ministry.

Copia squeezed your hand and pulled you up to your feet slightly. You laughed and held onto his arm, letting your head roll onto his shoulder. You both left your jackets in his office and left, taking slow steps in sync with each other as you moved down the marbled halls. Dusky light shined in from the windows and landed in orange and yellow rectangles on the floor, your shadows stretching out behind you. The vivid sunshine made his white eye glow amber and citrine as you watched him speak, evidence of his delayed processing. Copia worked through the events and accomplishments of the day by talking through them. It was his system for processing most things and you loved to watch the gears move in his mind. You loved knowing this side of the Cardinal, the thoughts behind his careful maneuvers and his strategies for keeping his anxiety and nerves in check. He was so cool, so calm when completing a task that was driving you crazy. Even now, as he revisited his frustrations from earlier, his voice was smooth and solid, like he had no doubts in himself anymore. It made your heart soar and you gave him a tender, ardent kiss on his lips when you were alone in the elevator. He hummed happily in response, surprised by your sudden kiss but still eager to reciprocate.

Copia placed his hands on your waist backed you up gently until your back was flush with the wall of the elevator, his lips moving in tandem with yours. Every kiss felt sacred to him, his own little taste of the afterlife. A little reward, Satan’s affirmation that Copia was in fact doing something right.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered, your hands cupping his plush cheeks in your palms.

His eyes burned into yours as he tilted his head down to get a better view of the windows to the he loved in secret. His eyebrow was slightly raised, but his cheeks gave away his reaction to your praise. “Amore mio, grazie… but why?” He asked sweetly, stroking your ribs with his thumbs.

“Because you’re doing so well,” you cooed, taking a step back from him so you could look fully into his face, his darling face that was currently smooshed between your palms, “and you’re working so hard, Cardinal. Remember how nervous you were when you started?”

Copia chuckled sheepishly and his cheeks turned a translucent red as he looked away from you, “I suppose I do, yes. But all of that is because of you, you’ve made me a better man, cara.”

“No,” you giggled and turned his face back towards you gently, but before you could argue with him, the doors opened. Copia smirked and kissed your lips quickly before walking out of the elevator. “We’re not done with this conversation,” your voice echoed from behind as you followed him out, biting the inside of your cheek to hide a smile.

“Mi hai reso un uomo migliore.” Copia looked back at you over his shoulder and winked before catching your hand in his again and giving it a kiss. You rolled your eyes playfully as you caught up to him, swinging his hand at your side as you walked through the entry way and out into the courtyard of the abbey.

Whenever the ghouls saw you two together, they took note of everything. The way Copia looked at you, the way he held your hand, the way he would back off just a little bit when he noticed they were watching him. The ghouls knew better than to make fun of you, but they would let it rip on Copia.

Rain wrapped you up in his arms and hugged you softly when you walked over to him. You giggled, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, “Hi!” Your voice chimed into the dusk air and into Copia’s ears, and he couldn’t help but grin.

Rain looked over your shoulder up at Copia and gave him a knowing smirk as he patted your back. “Hey, I’m glad to see you,” he said once you parted, “I thought for sure the Cardinal would be keeping you to himself all night.”

“Oh, please,” Copia rolled his eyes playfully, but did a terrible job at hiding the flustered look on his face.

You looked up at Copia and smiled shyly, shrugging your shoulders lightly. “I thought he was, too, with that insane assignment Imperator screwed us with.”

“It’s not like you wouldn’t have enjoyed being held up in an office with the Cardinal all night,” Rain teased.

“Whatever!” You shoved Rain playfully and he smirked before grabbing onto your waist and hoisting you over his shoulder.

Copia laughed and reached out to you as you held your hands out to him, begging him through fits of giggles to help you. Rain had drug you into a clearing where some of the other ghouls were gathered. Copia sat himself on the porch swing and watched like a father watching his kids. It made him laugh, honestly, because the age gap between you and him wasn’t large but in moments like these, it was exaggerated. He felt like he could never keep up with you. He had trouble keeping up with the ghouls already, and no matter how much your youthfulness rubbed off on him, he always felt like he was a step or two behind you and he was afraid to ask you to slow down.

A few moments later, you sat back down next to your Cardinal on the porch swing, and your head rolled onto his shoulder.

“Tuckered out?” He mused, placing a chaste kiss on your head as his arm draped over your shoulders.

“No, I just missed you,” you laid your hand on his thigh and smiled up at him, your face red across your cheeks and your adorable nose.

Copia tucked his hand beneath your chin and held your face still as he leaned down and kissed it, his lips overlapping along the apples of your cheeks and the bridge of your nose. “Don’t feel bad for me, cara. They haven’t seen you all day, go play.”

“No, I told them to meet us at our spot, you and me. I don’t want to ditch you, Copia.”

“Well, tesoro, we’re all here together. I never felt abandoned,” he nudged you a little bit closer as he began to move the swing gently with one foot planted on the ground, “I enjoyed watching you, in fact. And I have a feeling the ghouls are enjoying watching us right now, too.”

You turned away from Copia to look out into the clearing, and he was right. The ghouls were gathered up and giggling, watching as Copia’s fingers ran through your hair and down your arm. You looked back up at him and smiled, tilting your chin up to kiss his lips softly, “Let them, Copia. They know how I feel about you.”

Copia’s face was burnt up to the tips of his ear after the kiss, “How would they?”

“I told them.” You said bluntly, your voice cut with giggles.

“Oh!” Copia threw up his hands dramatically and his eyes rolled, “Of course you did!”

You started giggling harder and wrapped your arms around his torso, “Copia I couldn’t help it! I want to tell everyone, you make me so happy!”

“Amore mio, cosa devo fare con te?” He cooed as his hands landed on your cheeks, gently squeezing you face between his palms. Beneath the paint, his face was red, you could tell. His upper lip was slightly smudged from a day full of nervously biting it and your quick kisses, and you were pretty sure you had some black lipstick smeared on your cheek or your forehead. You had some on the back of your hand from his kiss earlier, and you wished that you could get these little marks tattooed so you could remember how they felt forever. Copia’s little kisses of fire were more intense and emotional than the bigger ones no matter how hard he tried. The passion he put into the smaller gestures of affection blew you away, he didn’t know his own strength.

“Well…” you began shyly, looking up into his eyes adoringly, “I can help you catch some fire flies, if you want.”

“I suppose that will be adequate,” Copia said in his cardinal voice, trying to tease you and hide the fact that he was swooning over the idea.

They were inching closer and closer to nightfall at this point. The courtyard was empty, the ghouls had said their goodbyes but still watched them from their bedroom windows. Copia kept his hand somewhere on your body as you reached up to catch lightning bugs on your finger. He needed to be touching you consistently or else he was scared you’d float away like the angel you were.

“Copia, look!” You turned back towards him and gently held your hand in front of his face. His hand flattened at the small of your back and he gave a small hum of consideration as he leaned down and inspected the bug crawling across your finger.

“Hmm… Piuttosto impressionante.” He said lowly, turning his eyes up towards you as he tilted his chin down to kiss your shoulder. “Bella cosa… si, bella cosa.” He moved his hand around your waist and pressed it softly into your belly as he pulled you back into him, resting your body against his torso. “The fire fly is very beautiful too, amore mio.” He pressed small kisses along your jawline and down your neck. The top of his berretta tickled the top of your cheek and you squeaked, trying to turn your blushing face away from him.

“Copia!” You squirmed but he kept his arms firmly wrapped around your waist. A diabolical chuckle came from behind you as he spun you around, holding your wrist up in the air to give the firefly room to fly off of your hand. His fingers were soft around your arm, his leather gloves holding you gently.

“Amo ogni momento con te.” He cooed, his voice gentle like a prayer. Copia loved to spend his nights speaking Italian to you, regardless of whether or not you understood it. He loved to be the tender teacher and when you looked up at him with your deep, adoring eyes, he knew those little lessons paid off. “Illumini la mia notte, bella ragazza. Grazie.”

“Prego, Copia,” you whispered back, your eyebrows softening as you settled into his arms, laying your hands on his chest. You attempted to speak his native tongue back to him, but you tripped over the syllables.

“Copia, I think I-” you rushed out the first few words of a confession before Copia smiled down at you and gently laid his finger on your lips to signal that you’ve done well enough for him.

“Tell me the way you’re comfortable, cara.”

You didn’t know when you’d tell him you loved him, or if you ever even could, but you knew it wouldn’t be now, no matter how beautiful the moon shined on the grass or on his face or how welcoming and omniscient his eyes were. You decided to just repeat his sentiment back to him, smiling and watching as a lightning bug landed on his berretta. “You’re my light, my everything.”

“No amore mio, io sono l'ombra.” His dark words, like the dusky July wind, caused a shiver to tear through you. Copia pulled you closer to protect you from the grimness of the cold.

As nightfall closed in around you, Copia moved his hand off of your wrist and placed it on your hip. His other hand rested against your blushing face and his thumb ran along the apple of your cheek, slowing bringing your chin up closer to his. He never made you stand on your tippy toes for kisses — he always knelt down to you level before gingerly pressing his lips against yours.

“I love so much more than these little moments, you know,” Copia whispered against your lips, “and I know you do, too.”

You leaned into the gently placed palm on your cheek and smiled, and in that moment it was almost like you could read his mind. You knew he loved you, you knew he knew you loved him, too. But for now, both of you were content with sealing it with a kiss among the fireflies, in the lamplight of the abbey, in the blissful dark of the night.

#cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #copia #copia my beloved #ghost #the band ghost #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #idk what else to add in the tags #i love sweet awkward loving copia #he's so sweet and little and italian i want to love him forever

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godsfavdarling · 3 months

Text

08 poolside pretense

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!oc

summary: Spencer and Brittany go to Las Vegas for the wedding.

list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3, my masterlist

warnings: none

words: 4k

The roar of the plane's engines filled the cabin as Spencer glanced out the window, watching the ground shrink beneath them.

He could feel the tension radiating from Brittany beside him. Her knuckles were white as she clutched the armrest, her breaths coming in short, shallow bursts.

"Hey, Brittany, look at me," Spencer said softly, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. "We're going to be in Vegas before you know it."

Brittany forced a shaky smile, her eyes flitting nervously between Spencer and the window. "Thanks. I just... I hate flying."

"I know," Spencer replied, “But we’ll be back on the ground before you know it.”

Brittany nodded, her grip on the armrest loosening slightly. "Yeah, you're right. I just need to keep thinking about the wedding."

Spencer leaned back in his seat, racking his brain. "So, tell me more about your family," Spencer prompted gently, sensing Brittany's need for distraction.

Brittany sighed, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "Well, there's my mom, Barbara, and my dad, Brian. And then there's my sisters, Beth and Brooke."

Spencer listened intently as Brittany continued, her words tumbling out in a rush. "It's kind of embarrassing, actually. We all have B names. It's like my parents were on a mission or something."

Spencer couldn't help but chuckle at Brittany's description. "I think it's kind of sweet, actually. It's like your family has its own little theme going on."

Brittany rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, well, try telling that to Brooke. She had to go and marry a guy named Ben. Now they have kids named Brandon, Bridgit, and Blaine. The alliteration is out of control."

Spencer grinned, finding it hard to stifle his laughter. "Wow, your family really is committed to the B, huh? What about Beth? Is her fiancé in on the trend too?"

Brittany shook her head, a smirk playing on her lips. "Thankfully not. His name is Chad. It's a welcome break from the alliteration madness."

"What do your parents do? I guess I need to know more details to successfully pull off being your boyfriend."

Brittany laughed as she launched into an animated description. "My dad is a real estate developer, and my mom is a lawyer."

Spencer nodded, impressed by the success of Brittany's parents. "Sounds like they've done well for themselves. Do they still live in Vegas?"

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, they have this huge house in the suburbs, with a pool and everything. It's where we're all staying for the wedding. And Brooke and Beth both followed in our mom's footsteps and became lawyers."

Spencer nodded, intrigued. "That's interesting. Law runs in the family?"

Brittany chuckled. "Yeah, you could say that. Brooke works at a prestigious firm downtown, specializing in corporate law. She's always been the ambitious one, driven to succeed."

"And Beth?" Spencer asked, eager to learn more.

Brittany smiled. "Beth took a slightly different path. She's a paralegal at a smaller firm, but she's just as passionate about her work. She's got this incredible attention to detail that's perfect… for the job."

Spencer nodded, impressed. "It sounds like they're both doing well for themselves."

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, they are. They've always been the responsible ones, while I... Well, let's just say I took a different route."

"Do you like teaching?" Spencer inquired, genuine curiosity lacing his voice.

Brittany paused for a moment, considering her response. "You know I do. It's not always easy, but there's something incredibly rewarding about it. I love seeing young minds working and opening up to new ideas and perspectives."

Spencer nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I agree. I love it too! It’s incredibly fulfilling."

"It is," Brittany affirmed, a hint of wistfulness in her tone. "Plus I can pursue my own research interests. I get to contribute in my own way."

Brittany's smile faltered slightly, a shadow passing over her features. "But still they don’t quite understand my career choice. My decision to pursue academia... Well, let's just say it hasn't always been met with the same level of enthusiasm. Especially in my field. So if we’re gonna be met with some opinions… ignore them."

As the plane hummed along toward their destination, Spencer and Brittany found themselves deep in conversation about their upcoming role as a pretend couple.

"So, how are we going to present ourselves as a couple?" Spencer asked, his brow furrowing slightly with concern.

Brittany pondered for a moment before responding, "I was thinking we could say we met at work and have been dating for a few months. Maybe we can hold hands and hug sometimes, just to make it believable. Are you okay with that?"

Spencer's initial instinctual reaction flickered across his face briefly before he nodded. "Yeah, I think I can manage that."

"Great, I'm glad you're on board with the plan."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "And don't worry too much about the physical contact. I know you're a bit of a germaphobe. But remember, it's just acting, and it's me and I wash my hands all the time! We'll keep it minimal."

Spencer nodded in agreement, a small smile playing on his lips. "It’s okay. We'll make it work."

Brittany returned his smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Thanks. And besides, this weekend is all about Beth. I doubt anyone will be paying much attention to us anyway."

As the plane descended toward the Las Vegas airport, Spencer looked at Brittany who had been asleep for the majority of the flight.

He had observed her peaceful slumber earlier, her rhythmic breathing a testament to her deep rest.

He couldn't help but feel a sense of fondness as he watched her serene expression.

With a gentle smile, Spencer reached out to lightly touch her arm, rousing her from her sleep. "Hey, Brittany, we're about to land."

Brittany stirred awake, blinking sleepily as she adjusted to her surroundings. "Already? I must have dozed off."

Spencer nodded, offering her an understanding smile. "Yeah, we'll be landing soon."

With their belongings in tow, Spencer and Brittany made their way off the plane and into the bustling airport terminal. They were met by the sight of Brittany's father, who stood waiting for them near the baggage claim area.

"Dad!" Brittany exclaimed, a bright smile lighting up her face as she hurried over to greet him.

"Hey, sweetheart," her dad replied, enveloping her in a warm hug. His gaze then shifted to Spencer, and he raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

Brittany turned to Spencer, a proud smile on her lips. "Dad, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. He's my boyfriend."

Her dad's eyes widened in surprise, and he shot Brittany a bemused look. "Boyfriend, huh? Why didn't you mention anything about him at Christmas?"

Brittany's cheeks flushed slightly as she glanced at Spencer, silently urging him to play along. "Uh, it's a recent development, Dad. I wanted to wait until it was official."

Spencer nodded in agreement, offering her father a friendly smile. "It's nice to meet you, sir. Brittany has told me a lot about you."

Her dad's expression softened slightly as he shook Spencer's hand. "Likewise. So, Dr. Reid, what do you do?"

Spencer took a deep breath, bracing himself for the inevitable interrogation. "Well now I teach at Georgetown just like Brittany, but for almost two decades I was a behavioral analysis expert with the FBI."

Brittany's dad's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "FBI, huh? That's impressive. What do you teach?" he inquired, his tone polite but intrigued.

Spencer paused for a moment, considering his response. "Mostly criminal psychology," he replied, his voice steady despite the underlying tension.

Brittany's father raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Criminal psychology, huh? That sounds fascinating. What exactly does that entail?"

Spencer took a deep breath, preparing himself to explain. "Well, it's the study of the thoughts, feelings, and behaviors of criminals. I focus on understanding why people commit crimes and how we can prevent and solve them."

Brittany's father nodded, seeming to mull over Spencer's explanation. "Impressive. Well, it's good to have you both here. Let's get going. Your mom's been waiting to see you, Brittany."

As they made their way through the airport, Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that Brittany's dad's questioning had been relatively mild. He knew this was just the beginning of what was sure to be an eventful weekend.

Brittany led Spencer through the grand foyer of her family's Las Vegas home and she couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension.

This was the first time Spencer would meet her entire family, and she hoped everything would go smoothly.

"Everyone, this is Spencer," Brittany announced with a smile, her hand resting on his arm. "Spencer, meet my sisters, Brooke and Beth, their partners Chad and Ben, and of course, my mom, Barbara."

Spencer returned their greetings with a polite nod and a warm smile, taking note of the striking resemblance between Brittany, her sisters, and their mother.

They all shared the same jet-black hair, but Brittany's locks cascaded down her back in long, flowing waves, contrasting with the shorter styles of the other women. Additionally, she stood out as the tallest among them, likely inheriting her height from her father.

"Nice to meet you all," Spencer said, his voice sincere as he greeted each of them.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Spencer." said Barbara as she tried to envelop Spencer in a warm hug, he couldn't suppress the instinctual flinch that ran through him.

Spencer gently stepped back, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'm a bit of a germaphobe," he admitted, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

"Oh it’s okay. I’m so happy you guys are here!"

Spencer smiled, feeling a sense of relief at their warm reception. He had been nervous about meeting Brittany's family, but their kindness put him at ease.

As the introductions continued, Brittany led Spencer on a tour of the house, showing him the grandeur of their family home. They explored the spacious living areas, the elegant dining room, and even ventured outside to admire the sparkling pool.

Eventually, they made their way to the bedroom they would be sharing during their stay. As they entered the room, Brittany hesitated for a moment before turning to Spencer, her expression filled with concern.

"I hope you don't mind sharing a room, Brittany said, chewing on her lower lip. "It's just for the weekend, and it'll make things easier for us to… keep up appearances."

Spencer glanced around the room, taking in the plush furnishings and the king-sized bed. Despite his nerves, he couldn't deny the allure of spending more time with Brittany.

"It's no problem at all." Spencer reassured her, offering her a reassuring smile.

“I'm going to take a quick swim," she announced, excitement sparkling in her eyes. "The water looks so inviting, and I could use a bit of relaxation before tonight."

"Isn't the water a bit cold for a swim?" he asked, concern creasing his brow.

Brittany laughed, shaking her head. "Maybe for some, but I like it." she replied with a grin.

Spencer nodded in understanding, unable to argue with her logic. "Sounds good. I'll join you. I mean I’ll just… sit outside for a while,"

Brittany beamed at him before rummaging through her suitcase to grab her bathing suit and a towel. "I'll change quickly and meet you out there," she said, disappearing into the bathroom.

Spencer made his way outside, taking a seat by the pool and basking in the warmth of the Las Vegas sun.

After a few minutes, Brittany emerged, her figure adorned in a sleek black bathing suit that hugged her curves in all the right places. Spencer's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of her, feeling a rush of warmth spread through him at the sight.

It was the first time he had seen her in such attire, and he couldn't deny how stunning she looked. His gaze lingered on her figure momentarily before he turned his attention back to the pool.

He couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. The sound of splashing water filled the air as Brittany gracefully glided through the pool, her bathing suit glistening in the sunlight.

The peaceful moment, however, was soon interrupted by the approach of Brittany's sisters, Brooke and Beth, accompanied by their partners.

"Hey there, Spencer!" Brooke greeted cheerfully, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "It's nice to finally meet one of Brittany’s boyfriends."

Spencer smiled politely, feeling a flicker of unease at the sudden barrage of attention. "Likewise. It's great to meet all of you too."

Beth, Brittany's younger sister, leaned in closer, her expression filled with intrigue. "So, where are you from, Spencer? Brittany never brings her boyfriends home, so this is a bit of a surprise for us."

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, acutely aware of Brittany's presence as she continued her laps in the pool. "I'm from Las Vegas, actually. Born and raised."

“Oh that's so cool!” Brooke exclaimed with enthusiasm.

Her partner, Ben, chimed in with another question. "And what do you do for a living, Spencer?"

Spencer hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal. "I work with Brittany but I used to be in the FBI. It’s a fresh change." he replied, keeping his response deliberately vague.

Brooke and Beth exchanged surprised glances, clearly taken aback by Spencer's profession.

"Wow, that's impressive," Brooke exclaimed, her tone tinged with admiration. "Brittany, you never told us you were dating a federal agent."

Spencer glanced over at Brittany, who had paused her swimming to listen to their conversation. He offered her a reassuring smile, silently grateful for her presence amidst the interrogation.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Las Vegas skyline, Brittany and Spencer retreated to their shared room to prepare for the evening's rehearsal dinner.

Brittany stood before the mirror, her fingers deftly arranging her hair into an elegant updo, her reflection shimmering in the soft light of the room.

Spencer hovered nearby, his movements hesitant as he rummaged through his suitcase in search of suitable attire for the occasion.

As he glanced over at Brittany, a pang of self-consciousness washed over him. Sharing a room with her felt oddly intimate.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he was intruding on her space, invading her privacy in a way that made him distinctly uncomfortable.

Sensing his unease, Brittany turned to him with a warm smile, her eyes soft with understanding. "Are you okay, Spencer?" she asked gently, her voice filled with concern.

Spencer offered her a tight-lipped smile, his discomfort evident in his expression. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... adjusting to the whole sharing a room thing. I don’t wanna invade your space"

Brittany nodded sympathetically, her gaze lingering on him with a mixture of empathy and reassurance. "You don’t. I know it's not ideal, but it's just for the weekend."

With a shared nod of agreement, they returned to their respective tasks, the awkwardness between them gradually dissipating as they focused on preparing for the evening ahead.

Spencer quickly changed into a dark gray suit, while Brittany slipped into a black cocktail dress that accentuated her frame.

With one last glance in the mirror, Brittany turned to Spencer with a smile, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Ready to go?"

Spencer nodded, returning her smile with a sense of determination. "Ready as I'll ever be," he affirmed.

He was fidgeting with his tie and Brittany stepped forward, her fingers deftly adjusting the knot with a gentle touch. "Let me help you with that," she offered kindly, her eyes meeting his with a reassuring gaze.

As the evening unfolded at the rehearsal dinner, Brittany's prediction proved true – the focus was largely on Beth and her fiancé, allowing Brittany and Spencer to navigate the social gathering with relative ease.

Amidst the lively conversations and clinking of glasses, Spencer found himself engaging in pleasant small talk with Brittany's family, his earlier apprehensions gradually fading into the background.

However, as the night wore on and the conversations veered towards more personal topics, Spencer found himself facing a new challenge.

Brittany's mother, Barbara, turned her attention towards him.

"So, Spencer, tell me, do you have any free time outside of your job?" Barbara inquired, her tone laced with genuine curiosity.

Spencer considered her question for a moment, weighing his response carefully. "I do try to make time for other pursuits outside of work," he replied diplomatically, choosing his words with caution.

Barbara's expression softened, a hint of maternal concern in her eyes. "That's good to hear. And what about kids? How do you feel about starting a family someday?"

Spencer hesitated, his gaze flickering towards Brittany, who remained silent beside him, her expression carefully neutral.

Sensing the tension in the air, he felt a protective instinct rise within him, a desire to shield Brittany from the expectations that weighed heavily upon her.

"I love kids," Spencer replied honestly, his voice steady. "I think they're amazing."

Barbara's smile widened, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Well, I must admit, I'm still waiting for those grandkids," she remarked, her gaze drifting towards Brittany expectantly.

Spencer's heart clenched at the subtle pressure in Barbara's words, the unspoken expectation that Brittany would someday fulfill her role as a mother.

With a surge of resolve, he found himself speaking up, a quiet defiance in his voice.

"But Barbara, you already have grandkids," Spencer stated, his tone gentle yet firm.

Spencer's statement hung in the air, his tone carrying a mix of assertion and tension. Barbara's expression shifted, her features contorted with surprise and a touch of frustration.

Her eyes narrowed, her voice tinged with skepticism. "Oh you know what I mean. I want to see… more grandchildren, you understand."

Spencer's jaw tightened, his resolve hardening as he met Barbara's gaze head-on. "I understand," he replied evenly. "But Brittany is a wonderful daughter, regardless of whether she has children or not."

Barbara sighed, her frustration evident in her tone. "Spencer, you're not a mother. You can't understand the longing I have to see my daughter experience the joys of motherhood."

Before Spencer could respond, Brittany interjected, her voice surprisingly sharp. "Actually, Mom, I do have a child," she said, her words laced with tension.

Barbara's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze flickering between Brittany and Spencer. "You do?"

Brittany nodded, her jaw set with determination. "Yes, his name is Albert."

Barbara's eyes narrowed, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. "That's a cat, Britt! Stop trying to be funny," she said sharply, her tone bordering on frustration. "I just want what's best for you."

Brittany's shoulders tensed, a flicker of defiance in her gaze. "I am happy!" she countered, her voice tinged with frustration. "I don't need a child to be happy."

Barbara sighed, her tone softening slightly as she reached out to her daughter. "But would you want to be a mother?" she asked gently, her eyes searching Brittany's face. "You're only getting older, not younger, honey."

Brittany's jaw tightened, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. "Maybe I would," she admitted reluctantly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But what am I supposed to do?"

Spencer watched the exchange in silence, his heart heavy with empathy for Brittany.

As he glanced at Brittany, he saw the weight of her mother's words bearing down on her, the struggle written plainly on her face.

Brittany's shoulders tensed, her gaze flickering towards Spencer for support. In that moment, she felt torn between her mother's expectations and her own desires, the weight of their conflicting aspirations pressing down upon her.

He placed a reassuring hand on Brittany's.

--------------------------------

Spencer sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his thumb on his left hand. The repetitive motion seemed to soothe him as he tried to calm his racing thoughts.

Brittany, in the midst of removing her earrings, glanced over at him with concern evident in her eyes.

"Spencer, are you okay?" she asked gently, pausing in her task to give him her full attention.

He stopped his tapping and looked up, meeting her gaze with a faint smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry," he replied, his voice soft but strained.

"Don't be. If doing that makes you feel better, you shouldn't stop," Brittany reassured him, her tone filled with understanding.

"I think I'm just overwhelmed. Long day," Spencer admitted, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion. His fingers resumed their rhythmic tapping against his thumb.

"I get it," Brittany nodded sympathetically. "It's okay if you're not."

"I don't want to worry you," Spencer murmured, his gaze flickering away uneasily.

"You don't. Just tell me what you need. If you'd rather be alone, it's okay, or... I don't know. I can get you water? Tea?" Brittany offered, her voice soft and comforting.

"Water would be great actually," Spencer replied gratefully, his tension easing slightly at her kindness.

"Okay," Brittany said, rising from her seat to fetch two glasses of water. She returned moments later and handed one to Spencer with a gentle smile. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Spencer murmured, taking the glass from her with a small smile of appreciation.

"Can I ask you a question? A personal one… You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Brittany said, settling into a chair near the bed.

"Sure," Spencer replied, his curiosity piqued.

"I'm sorry if it's inappropriate, but... Are you autistic?" Brittany asked delicately, her gaze filled with genuine curiosity.

Spencer chuckled softly, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "Umm... yeah. I am. I've never been officially diagnosed, but it's... pretty obvious."

"Why didn't you get a diagnosis? Especially as a kid?" Brittany inquired, her voice laced with empathy.

"Well, it... just never happened. It wasn't a priority, I guess, and I always managed," Spencer explained, his tone tinged with sadness.

"My mom is a paranoid schizophrenic, and it's been just the two of us since I was 10. I kind of took care of her more than... Well, she got bad, and I put her in a mental health institution when I was 18.

And then at the FBI, if I was diagnosed, it would just make stuff harder. You know... working in the field. So everyone always knew, but we didn't talk about it.

Also, I'm not sure they fully ever understood it. I've been masking for most of my life... to, you know, make stuff easier."

"For others or for you?" Brittany asked gently, her eyes filled with compassion.

Spencer's gaze flickered away for a moment before he met her eyes again. "Both," he admitted quietly, his vulnerability laid bare.

"I'm sorry. That's awful," Brittany murmured, her heart aching for him.

"I'm okay," Spencer assured her, his tone gentle but firm.

"I know you are, but... hiding stuff and pretending just to make others comfortable sounds... awful and… tiring," Brittany remarked, her voice filled with empathy.

"If you ever need something, tell me. You don't have to pretend with me. Besides, I don't think you could."

"Thanks... and you're right… I don't think I could," Spencer admitted, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Are you still okay with sharing the bed? We don't have to," Brittany offered, her concern evident in her voice.

"I'm okay. I just want you to be comfortable. And if you're not with me..." Spencer trailed off, his expression filled with uncertainty.

"I am. It’s okay," Brittany reassured him with a soft smile.

He chuckled softly as he glanced down at her feet, noticing she was still wearing tall, black stilettos.

"Do your feet hurt?" he asked, genuine concern coloring his tone.

"No... I'm used to it. Do you want to get in the shower first or can I go?" Brittany offered with consideration for his comfort.

"Sure, you can go," Spencer replied, nodding in agreement.

"Okay," Brittany said, gathering her belongings before heading to the bathroom.

Once she finished, she emerged in her matching black pajama set, looking comfortable and relaxed.

Later Spencer returned from the bathroom, wearing his own checked pajamas, and couldn't help but notice Brittany's amused expression.

"What?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Nothing, you just look cute in your pajamas," Brittany teased, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

"Thank you?" Spencer replied, a faint blush coloring his cheeks at the unexpected compliment.

"Is it okay if I read for a while?" he asked, seeking her permission.

"Yeah," Brittany replied, slipping her black sleeping eye mask over her eyes and turning off her bedside lamp. "Goodnight," she added softly.

"Goodnight," Spencer echoed, feeling a sense of warmth settle over him as he settled in to read.

"Hey, Spencer..." Brittany's voice interrupted the quiet, causing him to look up.

"Yeah?" he asked, curious.

"If anything's wrong, wake me up. It's okay," Brittany said, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Okay. Thanks," Spencer replied, feeling a sense of comfort wash over him at her words.

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