#I’m going on a 4 day trip to a place I used to live and liked a lot. So that’s gonna ALSO get in the way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justagalwhowrites · 1 month ago

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The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 5: Fracture

You and Joel try to find a balance in your relationship in Los Angeles. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 4 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Very mild violence. Masturbation. Description of porn. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 14.3k (IDFK what my problem is)

“Hey, Big Miller!” Tanya yelled toward her living room, wine glass clutched precariously in her grasp.

“Shhh!” You clamped your hand over Tanya’s mouth as she practically cackled. “Will you cool it?”

She shoved you away playfully.

“We need a camera man,” she said. “And I don’t think he’s busy.”

“Can’t we ask one of your security guards?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I don’t think they’re busy, either.”

“Yes but my security guards aren’t eye candy,” she replied, almost smug. “And they’re in the guard shack. So the obvious choice is… Oh, hello Big Miller.”

Tanya winked at you and you turned to find a surly Joel standing in her massive kitchen, his arms crossed and a fed up look on his face.

“Can I help you.”

“Yes, actually,” she practically flounced over to him. “We are making a TikTok…”

“No,” Joel said.

“Oh, come on,” she waved him off. “You’re no fun!”

“Ain’t paid to be fun,” Joel said. “Now if you two aren’t running off somewhere crazy, think I’ll get back to…”

“We just need a camera man,” Tanya said, putting a hand in the middle of his back and guiding him further into her kitchen. “All you have to do is press record, hold the phone and press stop.”

Joel looked to you like he was asking for an out and, given the new, strangely kind balance to your relationship, you wished you could give him one.

But… you did need a camera man.

“Ellie wanted us to make a video,” you said and Joel sighed and held out his hand for Tanya’s phone, just like you knew he would as soon as you mentioned your niece.

Tanya squealed and clapped for a moment before walking him through what she wanted him to do.

“Alright,” he sighed as Tanya took her place next to you. “Let’s get this over with.”

Joel was a surprisingly good sport about the whole thing, stopping and starting the recording again and again as you and Tanya swapped places and did ridiculous looking dances and you couldn’t help but laugh when you were supposed to be standing still as your friend did her part.

“Thank you, Big Miller,” Tanya said, taking the phone back when the two of you couldn’t think of any other stupid dances to do. “We appreciate your contribution to our art.”

“Something tells me that isn’t going to win either of y’all one of those fancy trophies,” he said before looking to you. “Should leave soon. You’ve got early shit tomorrow.”

“So bossy,” Tanya winked at him. Joel rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, he’s like that,” you smiled at him a little. “But we have to let him control what he can otherwise he gets grumpy.”

“Well I guess we do have to let the men be men occasionally,” she smiled at him again before looking to you. “Do I get to see you again this trip or no?”

“Probably not,” you said, scrunching your nose at that. “I’ve got more chemistry reads tomorrow morning, Kimmel in the afternoon, meetings in the evening, premiere the next day, flying home the day after that.”

“Ugh, home in Texas,” she made a face. “LA is way better.”

“I’m sorry, which of us has been on tour for the better part of a year?” You teased. “Not like you’re here for me to hang out with anyway.”

“Hey, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you,” she elbowed you lightly and you laughed before you both sighed. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you smiled a little. “You can always come visit in Texas, you know.”

“Might take you up on that,” she smiled back.

Tanya loaded you down with two dozen cookies before you left and you couldn’t help but smile a little as Joel drove the two of you back to your house.

“Thank you,” you said, looking over at him in the glow of the street lights. “For the TikTok thing, I mean.”

“Not the end of the world,” Joel shrugged. “Don’t understand it for shit but…”

You smiled a little and opened the cookie tin, holding it out to Joel, who glanced at it as he drove.

“C’mon,” you shook the tin at him, making the cookies inside rattle. “You know you want one.”

“Can’t believe you just go over to some pop star’s house to bake cookies,” he muttered, reaching over and grabbing one, taking a bite and chewing for a moment. “And they’re fuckin’ good, too, that’s even worse…”

You just smirked, closing the tin with a satisfying snap, looking out the window as Joel drove you home.

It had been a strange few days since the lunch with Henry. You’d been busy - which you had expected, cramming weeks worth of meetings and outings into just a few days - and Joel had been a surprisingly comfortable companion for the whole of it.

He sat there, watching stoically from the corner as you read lines with the actors vying to be the romantic lead in Savage Starlight. He didn’t complain about the swarms of paparazzi and fans when you went to do interviews. He even kept whatever complaints he had to himself when you went for a fitting for your dress for the premiere and your stylist, Frank, dragged him in to get feedback from a man on the fit of your bodice.

“What was your name again, I’m sorry,” Frank asked as he stood there with his hands on your sides.

He sighed.

“Joel.”

“Joel,” Frank said. “Right. Well, Joel, since I’m pretty sure you’re straight given -“ he gestured toward Joel as a whole “- that, what do you think? Should we have it sit here…”

“Frank,” you said, half pleading, half knowing it was a lost cause. “Please leave him out of this…”

“Honey, if you won’t listen to me, listen to him,” he said, adjusting the bodice and turning his attention back to Joel. “Do you want to fuck her more with it here?”

He adjusted it again, making it so your breasts were higher, more ample. You sighed.

“Or here?” He said, looking at Joel. “Be honest.”

Joel’s eyes darted to you, wide and almost afraid.

“I… uh…”

“He doesn’t want to fuck me at all, Frank,” you said, rolling your eyes, your hands on your hips.

He rolled his back.

“Please, everyone wants to fuck you.”

“You don’t.”

“Yeah, that’s because I want to fuck him,” he jerked his head toward Joel.

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to tell Bill that,” you teased, barely holding back a smirk. “Tell him you’re out here…”

“Don’t you dare.”

“…checking out bodyguards…”

“Please don’t.”

“…causing problems…”

“Do you really think that paranoid old man could cope if he knew I was hanging out with that walking wet dream?” Frank asked, brows raised. “Please. For both our sakes, save me the fight and keep it to yourself and you,” he rounded on Joel. “Tell her the truth, that you want to fuck her more when the girls are higher.”

“Can you promise me I won’t have a nip slip on the red carpet if you shove my boobs up to the sky?” You said before Joel had a chance to stumble his way through another response. “Because Quinn might kill me if I do.”

“Do you really think I’d let that happen?” He asked, brows raised. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll put some pasties on the girls, that way if your tits find some way to defy the laws of physics - which, if anyone’s could, it’s yours - you’re not really flashing the whole world.”

“Very considerate,” you said wryly, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “Then sure, put my tits under my chin if that will bring you joy.”

“You’re my favorite client for a reason,” he said, going about pinning the dress into place and you bit back a smile as Joel stood there, his hands in his pockets as he stared determinedly off to the side his eyes darting back your way every half minute or so.

Joel had even been a pleasant presence at home. You’d FaceTimed Ellie the night before while you sat at your kitchen island with a glass of wine, just nodding along and listening to her talk about her day, trying not to dwell too much on the little mannerisms she had that reminded you of Anna. Joel came in - you weren’t sure why, his hand running absently over the granite counter before rapping his knuckles on it and Ellie spotted him then, perking up even more when she did.

“Hey, Big Miller!” She called in a sing-songy voice.

Joel came up behind you, tall and broad at your back, leaning down to get in the frame of the camera of your iPad.

“Hey Trouble,” he said, teasing Ellie with her own code name. “Been keeping your nose clean for your grandmother? Behaving for Seth?”

“No,” she smirked. “But remember that one debate I had coming up?”

“I do.”

“Well, I did it,” she said proudly, sitting up a little straighter. “And I won.”

“You did?” He asked, pride in his voice. Ellie nodded eagerly. “Knew you could, that smart mouth of yours.”

“I kicked his ass,” she said happily.

“Was it that one kid?” Joel asked. “The asshole?”

“Yup,” Ellie beamed. “And I made him look like a fucking idiot.”

“Ellie!” You scolded.

“Sorry, Sissy,” she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Joel. “Freaking idiot.”

Joel snorted.

“Good for you, kiddo,” he said. “Knew you could do it.”

Once you finished up the call with Ellie, you went and found Joel. He’d taken to spending time by the pool since the night he’d found you there. Sometimes he had a book, sometimes he just watched the water, his hands folded between his knees looking like he was lost in thought. He was there then, too, watching the water this time with a bottle of beer at his feet.

“Hey,” you said, knowing better than to approach him silently.

He looked back over his shoulder to you.

“Hey,” he said before looking back at the water.

You came and sat next to him, watching the light ripple in silence for a moment.

“Think Ellie misses you,” you said, glancing to him as you did. He just grunted. “It sounds like she talks with you…”

“We got time when I take her to school,” Joel said, almost defensively.

“I know,” you said quickly, gently. “I just… I appreciate it. You being nice to her, I mean.”

“Oh,” he said.

“She needs that,” you continued. “Her dad was never in her life, it was always just her mom, Elise and me and now… She needs as many people as she can to care about her. She’s been through a lot. I’m glad she has someone else she can talk to like that.”

“She’s a good kid,” Joel said, staring at the water. “Don’t mind.”

You nodded silently.

“Puns are awful though,” he said after a moment, smiling ever so slightly.

You laughed.

“God, they really are,” you said. “She has a book of them.”

He looked at you then.

“Who the hell’s idea was that?” He asked.

You laughed again.

“She picked it up at school a few years ago, one of those book fair things. I think she memorized it.”

“Jesus,” Joel laughed and then sighed. “Guess we’ll never be free of ‘em.”

“No,” you smiled a little. “Guess we won’t.”

It had become a strange balance. Not quite friends, not quite… whatever you’d been before. Some odd middle ground where you cared what he thought and found a disorienting comfort in his presence without the kindness of any affection.

Your phone lit up, a link from Tanya. You followed it and watched the video on TikTok, posted for not even five minutes and already thousands of likes. You smiled at it, the look on your own face as you tried not to laugh at your friend’s ridiculous dance moves and your own clumsy, erratic movements when it was your turn funnier than you’d realized.

“That the video?” Joel asked as you sat at a red light.

“Yeah,” you said, holding the phone out to him just as it looped. He watched for a moment, an almost serious expression on his face before it seemed like he was biting back a smile, shaking his head a little. You laughed. “You liked it!”

“I don’t really get it,” he said, giving you a look before the light turned green and he started driving again. “But… yeah, alright, it was kinda funny. Didn’t think you celebrities really did that kind of shit, though.”

“Why not?” You asked, going to repost the video on your own feed and texting Quinn to tell her that you had so she wasn’t caught off guard by it.

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just… seems like it’s beneath you.”

You frowned a little.

“You do realize we’re just people, right?” You said. “We just happen to do jobs that make us famous.”

“I know,” Joel said. “Still. Feels weird.”

You laughed a little at that. Yeah, fame was weird.

“Ellie seen the video yet?” He asked, glancing your way quickly.

“She’d better be in bed,” you said. “It’s almost 2 a.m. in Texas. But I’ll send it to her in the morning.”

“She do one, too?” Joel asked.

“She did,” you said, smiling a little and going to Ellie’s TikTok - which you’d insisted be locked down to hell and back so paparazzi couldn’t take advantage of it - and pulling up the video. Joel parked in your driveway and you handed him your phone, pressing play for him and watched as he smiled a little as Ellie and her friend Dina did different crazy dances in a classroom at school to the same song you had.

“Looks like she’s makin’ friends,” Joel said, giving you back your phone. He didn’t wait for a response, getting out of the car. You sat and waited patiently for him to come to your side of the car - a safety protocol that felt excessive but you went with it - before getting out yourself. “That’s good. Can be hard for kids that age now, especially at a new school.”

“Yeah,” you said, frowning slightly at him and biting your tongue. How would he know about kids that age? You weren’t sure of his exact age but you were pretty sure he was a few years older than you and it’s not like he had kids.

“Driver’ll be here early,” he said once you were both safely inside and you set the cookies down in the kitchen. “Any itinerary changes I should know about?”

“Nope,” you said. “Just going to be a busy day for me with a lot of sitting around for you. Might want to bring your book.”

“Be sure to keep myself entertained,” he said wryly, opening the tin and getting out another cookie.

You smiled.

“Goodnight, Big Miller.”

“Night, Siren.”

You brought a bag with you the next day.

You’d done enough shit like this in your time - days where you had to run from place to place at almost breakneck speed, places where you knew you’d be photographed to hell and back and others where you had some semblance of privacy and you knew you’d be desperate for some comfort - that you knew how to plan for it.

Joel sat up front with the driver, leaving you in the back seat alone and you sent the TikTok to Ellie, telling her you hoped she had a good day at school and that you were excited to see her in a few days. You took a few minutes to review the lines you were working with that day, making sure you were comfortable with the ones you’d be reading with the kids. You always remembered your first line readings with grown ups once you were actually old enough to fully understand what was going on, how some made you feel at ease and some made your stomach churn and skin crawl. You always wanted to be the comfortable person for these kids. You hadn’t worked with many children in adulthood but it always felt strange when you did, some twinge in you that made it seem like you were watching your younger self but not able to stop what was coming.

“Doomed by the narrative,” you muttered to yourself, skimming the lines of the girl who would play your childhood self.

“Hm?” Joel said back over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” you said, locking the iPad as the car pulled up to the studio gate. “Just running lines.”

There were four kids you were reading with but one that you’d been told was the favorite and she was reading last.

All the kids were talented, you’d give them that. Of course, they had to be to make it this far. They were all 10 to 12 years old, all excited to be there, all somewhat accustomed to this life already. But you posed for pictures with them anyway - the photos going on their agents’ phones so they couldn’t post them before they were allowed to - and performed your lines in all the different ways the casting director asked.

Eventually, the last girl came in, a sense of nervous, almost frantic energy pouring off of her, something that seemed so far away but so familiar from your childhood.

“Can I see her resume?” You asked the casting director quietly as the production assistant went over things with the girl.

“Sure,” she said, rifling through a small pile before handing it over. You reviewed it quickly and found what you expected - some commercial work, a three episode arc on a sitcom, no film. She was just 12 years old and new to this. You slid the resume back and went over to the girl who, you had to admit, looked a lot like you.

She was staring at you, her eyes a little wide and you tried not to laugh. Instead, you smiled and held out your hand, introducing yourself.

“Yeah,” she said, a little awed. “I know.”

“Thought you might,” you smiled a little wider. “What’s your name?”

“Catherine,” she said. “Catherine Ford.”

“It’s nice to meet you Catherine,” you said. “Want to run some lines with me, see how we do?”

She nodded quickly and you showed her where to stand in front of the camera that was capturing your line reads for the director to watch later.

“Let’s go from from the top,” the casting director said, giving you a nod. “Get us started.”

You just nodded and found the character quickly, falling into her headspace, making your eyes meet the girl who was yourself.

“Who are you?” You asked, a panicky edge to your voice.

“Don’t you know?” She asked in response, cocking her head slightly to match your own. “I’m you.”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, that’s not possible, you’re not real, you…”

“I am,” she said, all calm and wise. “I’m you and I know that you… I… crud…”

Her face scrunched and she looked down to the paper in her hands.

“Keep going,” the casting director said to you. “Lead her in.”

You nodded, taking a moment to reset and looking at Catherine.

“That’s not possible,” you said again. “You’re not real, you…”

“Don’t you know?” She said and then her face fell. “Crap, I’m sorry!”

“It’s OK,” you smiled gently. “Want to go again?”

“Is that OK?” She asked. You just nodded and she sighed. “OK, cool. I’ll get it this time!”

“From ‘that’s not possible,’ please,” the casting director said and you obeyed, but Catherine missed her cue to cut in that time, freezing in the moment and then looking like she was about to cry.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I promise, I know my lines, I was up so late practicing, I won’t mess up like this if you actually cast me, I…”

The casting director got up but you held out a hand, keeping her where she was.

“Catherine?” You cut her off before she had a full blown panic attack. “It’s OK. Did you warm up before you came in today?”

“No,” she sniffled a little. “No, I should have, and…”

“Hey, I’m not criticizing you,” you smiled gently. “Even if you had, it’s probably been long enough since you left your house that it wouldn’t make a difference now anyway. Why don’t we take a minute, warm up, then try again. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah, that would be great.”

“OK,” you said. “Any warm ups you really like?”

“Um,” she thought for a second. “To sit in solemn silence? Do you know that one?”

You smiled a little wider.

“Good pick,” you said. “One of my favorites. Want to start or do you want me to?”

“Can you?” She asked. “I never have to…”

“Of course,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Ready? To sit in solemn silence on a dull, dark dock…”

You did a few warm ups with her, helping her loosen up and get relaxed before you got set to go again, tension coming back into her small shoulders as she got set for the next try.

“Hey,” you said gently. Her eyes met yours. “It’s OK. Just you and me, two actors doing our thing, OK?”

She smiled a little at that.

“OK.”

She seemed to take that to heart, hitting every word that time, the two of you falling into that rare space where you felt truly connected, that you were inhabiting these characters, building tension, pulling these feelings from each other and laying them bare. It was a space that was hard to find, you couldn’t do it with every actor, and this 12-year-old girl had managed it.

The room was silent for a moment when the scene wrapped but then the casting director clapped, you and Catherine both turning to look at her, Catherine beaming.

“Beautiful,” she said. “That was great, really really great.”

The two of you did a few other scenes, Catherine finding her groove more and more each time and you couldn’t help but marvel at her talent. She had raw skill that many of your contemporaries would kill for, skill that she’d only hone over time. She was going to be an incredible actor if this industry didn’t destroy her first.

“Who brought you here today?” You asked Catherine when the read was over, the casting director already talking conspiratorially with her assistant.

“My mom,” she said. “She’s in the waiting room.”

“Can I meet her?” You asked.

“Yeah!” She said eagerly. “She’d love that!”

You flagged Joel down from his spot in the corner and followed her there, her mom jumping up when she saw her come through the door.

“Hey kiddo!” She said excitedly, hugging her daughter. “How’d it go?”

She noticed you then, her eyes going a little wide at the sight of you.

“Hi,” you smiled. “I’m…”

“I know,” she cut you off, her eyes still wide but going somehow wider. “Oh my God, that was probably so rude, I’m sorry!”

You laughed.

“It’s fine,” you said. “Honestly, if it didn’t make me feel like such a self-centered jerk, my life would probably be a lot easier if I just assumed everyone knew who I was. You’re Catherine’s mom?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Margie.”

“Hi Margie,” you said. “It’s good to meet you. Catherine is really incredible, you know.”

“I know,” Margie said, tugging her daughter against her side and giving her a squeeze. “Trust me, we wouldn’t even be trying this if she wasn’t. She just begged and begged for years and eventually it was so obvious she was so good that we should at least give it a shot.”

Catherine beamed at that and you smiled, the familiar pinch of tears at the back of your throat that you swallowed as you did. Her mother seemed nothing like your own.

“I took a look at her resume, looks like you’re pretty new?” You asked and Margie nodded. “Well, getting started is hard, there’s a lot to navigate. Can I see your phone?”

She all but dove into her pocket and unlocked it before handing it over.

You entered your number, saving it with your first name and last initial.

“Don’t share that around,” you said, giving Margie her phone back. “But if you need anything - anything at all - give me a call or a text. Alright?”

“We gotta go,” Joel said quietly behind you. “Cutting it close.”

You just nodded before turning to Catherine.

“It was really great working with you today,” you smiled.

“You too,” she said, smiling hugely.

“Looking forward to doing it again soon,” you said, giving her a hug and a wave before going back to the audition room. Your bag was in the corner and you grabbed it before going to the casting director.

“I want Catherine,” you said, already going through your bag for your makeup kit.

“She was very strong,” she replied. “But she had the shaky start and…”

“No,” you said, cutting her off. “She’s it. No one else came close. Not trying to tell you how to do your job but it’s Catherine. She’s just green but she’s young, she’ll get used to it quick. Trust me.”

She considered you for a moment.

“Alright,” she sighed eventually. “She was the top pick going into today but if we need to recast because she can’t hack it…”

“We won’t,” you said. “I’ll make sure she’s got what she needs.”

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll confirm with the director but we’ll get her.”

You got changed into something far less comfortable than the leggings and sweatshirt you’d been wearing but looked way better for TV - Frank putting together a pair of velvet wide-legged trousers and matching jacket with a mesh turtleneck - and did your makeup and hair as quickly as you could before rushing to the car, Joel on high alert any time you were outside.

“You were good with her,” he said once you were safely underway.

“Hm?”

“The girl,” Joel said, his voice gruff. “You were good with her. She was nervous, I could tell.”

“Oh,” you said, watching the back of his head in front of you, as if that would tell you anything about what he was thinking. “Yeah. I just remember what it was like to audition like that. It’s lot of pressure.”

“Can’t imagine doin’ that to a kid,” he said harshly. “Should get to just be a kid.”

“There’s a reason I don’t want Ellie growing up here,” you said, looking out the window at the city going by. “Don’t want her getting any ideas.”

The car pulled up to the theater, a hoard of people outside the doors waiting for you.

“Ready?” Joel asked over his shoulder, his dark eyes meeting yours, something about the depth of his gaze making it impossible to look away.

“Ready,” you said.

He got out first and he tried to rush you through the crowd but you saw a little girl who had to be about seven or eight - wearing a t-shirt with the duck you’d voiced years ago, when Ellie was about her age - watching you with hopeful eyes.

“Hi there,” you smiled, getting down on her level. “What’s your name?”

“Parker,” she said, smiling hugely, one of her front teeth missing.

“Hi Parker,” you smiled back. “It’s so nice to meet you! I really like your shirt.”

“It’s my favorite movie!” She said excitedly.

“You have excellent taste,” you said with a wink. You nodded to the piece of paper clutched to her chest. “What do you have there?”

Her face lit up for a moment and she thrust the paper at you.

“It’s my drawing!” She said. “I did it myself!”

You took it and looked down at it, a childish, colored pencil version of the duck you’d played there on the page.

“Parker, this is so good!” You said, smiling at her. “You’re such a good artist! Is that what you’re in school for right now? Art? What college do you go to?”

“I don’t go to college!” She laughed.

“You don’t!” You gasped in mock surprise. “What! How old are you? 20? 21?”

“I’m seven!” She beamed.

“Oh, my goodness,” you said, looking back at the paper. “You were such a good artist and so grown up I figured you were much older.”

You gave her the paper back

“Can you sign it for me?” She asked, holding it out with a pen.

“Well, the artist is usually the one to sign their work,” you said. “But… I’ll sign it if you do, too.”

She beamed at that and you let her use your back to sign her name on her drawing before passing it off to you. You signed it, too, and gave it back before taking a selfie with her mom’s phone.

“Alright,” Joel said when you stood up again, his face drawn tight, his hand on the middle of your back. “Let’s get you inside, fuckin’ sitting ducks out here.”

“Oh, we’re fine,” you waved him off, going back to the crowd and taking selfies and signing autographs as you worked your way into the theater.

“You like trying to give me a damn heart attack?” He asked once you were inside.

“Everyone needs a hobby,” you said wryly as Quinn rushed over to you with a production assistant at her back. “Should try getting one yourself, you know.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, rolling his eyes but following you to the greenroom all the same.

Quinn reviewed the final topics for the interview and you said hi to Jimmy before getting ready to go on stage and put on a show.

Doing interviews like this one still felt odd to you. Not because they were unusual - you’d gotten used to the talk show circuit by this point in your career - but because of their very nature. The illusion of some intimate conversation between friends on display for the few hundred strangers in the same room and then broadcast for all the world to see.

You’d crafted a version of yourself for times like this, one that was built to appeal to an audience and seem genuine and real, some artificial sheen to wrap yourself up in that you slipped into like any other character. This one, though, grated on you. The strange dishonesty of it, the character you were playing yourself instead of the creation of someone else.

The interview went along like any other for a while, the two of you bantering back and forth and you sharing funny stories from set that sounded off the cuff but were actually carefully rehearsed to make sure you and your costars’ stories aligned.

“Speaking of Chris,” Jimmy said as your time was running down and the audience was quieting after another bout of laughter. “I do have to talk about one thing with him.”

“Just one?” You teased and he laughed.

“Well, plenty,” he said. “But did you know that you and Chris are going viral?”

“No,” you laughed. “But I’m sure my publicist does and she’s thrilled. What are we going viral for?”

“There was a moment in an interview this week,” Jimmy said. “I think we have it…”

The screen behind you changed and the moment from the junket days earlier played, you and Chris sitting side by side as he started on his rant, one that you’d thought would never see the light of day.

“First of all, my costar here is the most beautiful woman on the planet and the single most talented actor I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with so you will treat her with the respect she’s due…”

You sat there, cheeks getting hot, pressing your fingers into your thigh, nervous energy making your stomach turn as you watched Chris lay into the reporter. You’d hoped that this clip had been squashed by his publicist, that the reporter honing in on one of your lowest points wouldn’t be put out for all the world to consume. Apparently not.

“That’s all it takes to go viral now, eh?” You joked as the video ended. Jimmy chuckled lightly but no one in the audience laughed.

“You’ve got to admit, that was a pretty great moment,” he said. “But I was wondering what you thought of it.”

“I think Chris has a way with words that I can’t quite match,” you smiled a small but tight smile. “And I think if I say anything different, he might go off on me next.”

That did get some laughs and you laughed with the audience, hoping that you looked playful and fun, not tense and ready to crawl out of your skin.

“Well we don’t want that,” Jimmy laughed. “Thanks so much for coming on and everyone, go see As We Know It, out Friday!”

You waved your goodbyes and looked stage right, oddly comforted by Joel’s commanding presence there, his face firm as he watched you. You walked right for him as you left the stage, one of his arms going around you as you came alongside him, something grounding in his touch as he ushered you away.

“You’re OK,” he said quietly, guiding you toward the door you came in.

You frowned and looked at him, Joel glancing your way as you did.

“You’re stressed,” he said. “I can tell. I’ve got you.”

You did a more abbreviated run of the crush of fans this time, stopping for a few selfies and signing a few pictures, but not lingering, instead moving as quickly as you could for the car without looking like you were rushing.

Joel didn’t get in the front seat this time, instead climbing in back with you. You frowned as he did but he just ordered the driver to start toward the restaurant where you were meeting with producers.

“You alright?” Joel asked after the car was out of sight from the crowd outside the theater, his eyes oddly soft and open. “That was shitty, them springin’ that on you.”

“It happens,” you said, looking back at him as intently as he seemed to be looking at you. “I should be used to it. I am usually, but…”

“Shouldn’t need to be,” he said. “They should act better.”

You watched him for a moment, trying to puzzle him out but couldn’t see past his stern face with the strangely open eyes. You didn’t understand him. You weren’t sure you ever would.

“I’ll be fine,” you said when you’d been quiet a little too long. “But thank you.”

He frowned.

“For what.”

“Caring,” you shrugged. “Not many people do. But I’m afraid I need you to look out that window for a minute.”

His frown deepened.

“I need to change,” you said. “Shouldn’t be photographed in the same thing this many times so look out that way, please.”

His jaw quirked but he obeyed, shaking his head a little as he did.

“Shouldn’t be photographed at all,” he muttered, arms crossed tightly over his chest as you got a pair of black leather pants out of your bag and set them on the seat between you and Joel.

“Probably right,” you said, shrugging out of the jacket and adjusting yourself so you could slide your pants down and off, leaving you just in the mesh top. “But comes with the territory.”

You dropped the clothes you’d shed beside you, the velvet of the fabric brushing Joel’s arm and he glanced toward you - just a reaction, you told yourself - before he jerked his head back to look out the window again.

“Oh don’t act like half the planet hasn’t seen me half naked,” you rolled your eyes as you got into the leather pants, a task that was easier said than done in the back seat of an SUV. “I promise, I won’t bite.”

“Right,” he muttered.

You got the pants into place and pulled out another jacket, draping it over your shoulders and putting the other clothes away.

“You’re safe, Big Miller,” your teased, tossing the bag in the trunk.

“Try to make a habit of not seeing my clients naked,” Joel muttered, settling back into his seat.

“Sounds boring,” you said.

He gave you a look and you laughed.

“Don’t worry,” you said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I don’t think you’re at risk of anyone thinking you’re interested in fucking me. You’re safe.”

He just grunted and you smiled a little, looking out the window. There was something comfortable when he was like this. You weren’t sure what to do with a Joel who didn’t seem to loathe you, at least a little bit. Even though you wanted him to like you. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you did.

The paparazzi were waiting for you outside the restaurant, too, but you’d been expecting that. Quinn had told them you’d be here and you made sure your pants were actually zipped before getting out and putting on the show you always did, smiling and waving, taking selfies with fans who’d heard you were going to be there, too.

You kept the show on through dinner, talking with the producers of a period piece you were interested in doing, Joel sitting next to you the entire time, his jaw quirking when Leo joined the table, too.

But Henry didn’t make a surprise appearance and, after a while, you found yourself relaxing into things, a few too many glasses of wine deep and giggling when you left the restaurant.

“You got what you need for the premiere?” Quinn asked as you made your way to the door.

“Frank has a vision,” you said dramatically and Quinn snorted. “Don’t worry, my tits are basically hanging out, the press will love it.”

“Well I’ll see you there,” she said, kissing you on each cheek. “Need Frank to have a vision for me one of these days.”

“Call him,” you said eagerly. “I’m sure he’d work his magic! Oh, we could go somewhere matching, that would be fun!”

“OK, you’re drunk,” Quinn laughed and looked to Joel. “She’s drunk. Make sure she gets out of here safely and doesn’t talk to any of the paps outside?”

“I’m not drunk!” You protested and Quinn laughed, taking the lapels of your jacket in your hands.

“You’re drunk,” she said. “And that’s OK, you’ve been doing a lot lately, you deserve to have a little fun. Just don’t make more work for me in the morning when you do. See you tomorrow at the premiere.”

“The premiere!” You said and she laughed, giving you and Joel a final wave. You turned to Joel. “We know what I’m wearing for the premiere, what are you wearing for the premiere?”

“No one cares what I wear for shit,” Joel said, nudging you toward the door. “C’mon, driver’s pulling up.”

“Why wouldn’t they care?” You pouted, looking over your shoulder toward him. “You’re a good looking man, you know.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, shaking his head.

“What?” You said. “You are! I’m not trying to hit on you but that’s just an objective fact. Even Frank said so.”

The flashes caught you off guard. You’d forgotten, for a moment, that it seemed like half the planet cared that you’d had dinner here. You smiled and waved and Joel kept you walking straight toward the car, keeping you from stopping and talking to the people screaming your name.

“That felt rude,” you said once you were in the car and things were quiet again.

“Too bad,” Joel said, in back beside you again. “Don’t need to be talkin’ to those assholes, anyway.”

“There were some fans in there, too, I think,” you said, settling down into your seat. “But back to what I was saying.”

“No,” Joel said simply. “Seatbelt.”

“What?” You frowned. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean, put your seatbelt on,” he said.

Your frown deepened and you looked around yourself for a moment before Joel made an irritated sound and reached over you, grabbing the seatbelt and pulling it into place.

“OK,” you said, adjusting it and sitting up a little straighter. “Seatbelt’s on. Why can’t we keep talking about it? I’m just saying, you should take the compliment…”

“Not interested,” Joel said.

“Oh will you calm down?” You rolled your eyes. “I promise I’m not trying to get you into bed, you’re safe from my scary Siren claws, I just mean if you dress well tomorrow at the premiere people would notice because you’re a good looking person, that’s all.”

“It don’t matter because I’m not gonna be seen with you,” Joel said, his voice stern. “I’ll be on the other side of where press and shit are but the carpet will be you, some assistant and that Chris guy. Don’t matter what I’m wearing or how good I do or don’t look, alright? Jesus…”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “You really let them talk you into that? I’m shocked.”

“The premiere’s got it’s own security and it’s actually damn good,” Joel said. “Not good enough for me to just stay home but you’ll be alright. Don’t need me in any more goddamn photos with you than there already are.”

You watched him for a moment.

“You still don’t like me, do you?” You asked.

He frowned, looking at you.

“Why’s it matter.”

“I didn’t say it did,” you shrugged. “You just don’t like me.”

“Don’t need to like you,” he said. “Just need to keep you alive. Besides, the whole damn planet likes you, ain’t that enough?”

You scoffed.

“No they don’t.”

“Yeah?” Joel asked. “What d’you call that shit, the hundreds of people waiting for fucking hours just to catch a glimpse of you if it’s not like.”

“They don’t like me,” you said. “They don’t know me. They’re obsessed with a commodity. I’m not a person to them, I’m just a weird combination of every part I’ve ever played, every passing idea they’ve decided to assign to me, some idealized creation that doesn’t exist but they’re convinced is real. You know me, at least a little, and you don’t like me.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m right,” you said, your stomach twisting at that. You shouldn’t care what Joel thought of you but you did. There were so few people on this planet who knew you - actually knew you - and he was one of them. And he didn’t see something in you worth liking.

The car pulled up to your driveway and Joel got out first, going around and opening your door.

“C’mon,” he said, offering you his hand. “Like you or not, you got an early day.”

You took his hand - large and warm and secure - and slipped down to the ground, tottering on your heels enough that it made you laugh, Joel steadying you as you went.

“I trust you to actually get yourself to bed?” Joel asked as he led you inside.

You scoffed.

“Where else am I gonna go?”

“Sure you’d find some way to get into trouble,” he replied wryly.

“I’ll go to bed,” you rolled your eyes. “See you in the morning Big Miller.”

***

Joel watched you head down the hall, weaving a little as you walked before disappearing into your room, trying not to think about the way the fucking leather pants hugged your ass or the way your hips moved when you walked.

“Jesus,” he muttered to himself, stalking off to the kitchen to get a water.

You just don’t like me.

Lord, how he wished that were true.

He liked you alright. Far more than he should. Enough that the entire planet’s fucking obsession with you was starting to make sense.

He tried not to think about that.

Liking you was not a good idea. It was a completely horrible idea, actually. He wanted to go back to how he felt before he’d come here. It seemed like so long ago now, before he knew about your mom and Elise and Anna, before what you’d told him - and clearly hadn’t - about that fucking producer, before he saw you laughing with a friend or making kids smile just because you could. He wanted to go back to before you were a person - a real person, one with fears and wants and hurts - instead of some rich asshole he could pretend was a different species from himself.

It wasn’t a good idea to care about you. He had to protect you, he couldn’t be distracted by things like your fucking feelings. Caring about you was dangerous.

He opened the fridge and went to grab a bottle of water but, instead, took one of the beers that was sitting there. Not that drinking right now was a good idea, either, but fuck it.

Joel brought the beer to the pool and sat on the edge of it, the glow of your bedroom light almost tempting. The curtain covered the window but he could make out the silhouette of you through the glass and gauzy fabric. You must not have a shirt on, the outline of your breasts clear in the hazy, warm light. He watched for a moment as the outline of you pulled on some baggy piece of fabric, covering yourself, and he forced himself to look back at the water.

He wasn’t going to think about that. He wasn’t.

He wasn’t going to admit that he thought about it the day before, too.

He wasn’t going to admit that he thought he might break his fucking jaw from clenching it as he watched you with the actors during the audition shit the day before.

You with these men all made for the screen, designed to be your fucking equal in a way he never could be even if he tried - which he wouldn’t because it didn’t matter. They read lines with you and he watched as you looked at them with adoration, touched them with some kind of longing, pressed your body to theirs, arching around them to fit yourself to them like you belonged there. Because you did belong there. If not with these men in particular then with a man like them. Not a man like him.

Not that it mattered. It didn’t fucking matter.

No, he wasn’t going to think about those things. He wasn’t going to think about the way your tits looked in that fucking dress that Frank had asked his opinion on. He wasn’t going to think about glancing over at you in the car today when he knew he fucking shouldn’t have and seeing you there, half naked in your fucking see through shirt, your thighs looking so warm and welcoming and fucking soft.

He wasn’t.

He’d thought about it the night before. He wasn’t proud of that but he had, the image of you getting fitted for the damn dress at the forefront of his mind. It was like his head was a scratched record, skipping over that point in time again and again and again.

He tried to think about anything else as he stood in the shower that night but fucking couldn’t, his cock half hard as he tried to shove the memory of you away.

When he went to bed, he caved to his baser instincts. He decided to jerk off. Just to get it out of his system because he couldn’t be still stuck on this the next morning and he didn’t think he could sleep with his balls swollen and aching as they were.

He tried looking at porn but he couldn’t figure out what the fuck he wanted to watch. He was absently scrolling through a site, nothing standing out until something caught his eye. Your name, on a video.

He stared at it for a second, your name followed by EVERY SEX SCENE - COMPILATION.

His mouth went dry. His cock was painfully hard.

Could he watch that? It’s not like it was really wrong - it wasn’t something that had been shared without your permission and it wasn’t actual porn. It was just something he could see if he went on Netflix right now and sought it out.

But you hadn’t made it so fucking assholes like him could jerk off to it. And it wasn’t like you were a stranger now, he knew you. Could he do that?

His dick throbbed at the thought.

Could he stop himself?

Joel clicked on the video, his stomach twisting as he pressed play. There was an ad and he read the comments while it played.

She’s so fucking hot.

Bet she moans like a whore in real life.

Fuck I want to choke her out.

She was hotter before, she hit the wall when she hit 30.

The sound of you moaning in his headphones grabbed his attention, dulling the violent anger that swelling in him when he read what other people said about you. Joel took a shaky breath and made the video full screen. He was already this far down the rabbit hole, he may as well fully commit.

The first chunk of excerpts were from the movie you won the Oscar for and he could only stomach a few seconds of it. You looked disturbingly young to him, just a teenager with a softer version of your face getting on her knees, starting to take off her shirt making him jump ahead. He jumped again when it just felt too strange, watching you start to get undressed or turn around when you were obviously shirtless - seeing your skin this way feeling too keenly wrong.

It was the last scene in the video that he found himself watching in earnest. It was something more recent, you looked almost the same as you did now, none of the childish softness to your face that had been there in the first scenes. It was a romantic scene, one that was carefully shot so the viewer saw nothing illicit. The curve of your bare waist, the edge of the swell of your breast, a hint of your ass.

But Joel liked it this way, this moment not tinged with the wrongness the others were. You moaned as your on screen lover pushed inside you - or mimicked it, Joel corrected himself - your fingers spreading wide over the man’s back.

Joel took his cock in his hand, swallowing hard, his heart beating fast. He worked himself slowly as he watched as the man on screen explored your body, close up shots that revealed nothing interspersed with your face as you gasped in pleasure.

He let himself get lost in that, in the sounds you made, stroking himself harder, faster. He wanted to make you make those sounds. He wanted to press his lips to the delicate skin of your throat and kiss and lick and suck as he sank inside of you. He wanted his hands to run over the softness of you, to press his firm chest to your plush one and feel your heart beat through your skin. He wanted to feel you swallow him whole, his body slotting into yours as he made you come.

You moaned and gasped on the video and he let himself pretend that it was for him and he came, imagining it was you and not his own fucking hand he was buried inside as rope after rope of his come spilled over his skin.

His cheeks got hot as he closed the video and cleaned himself up, a pile of tissues on his nightstand the only sign of his indiscretion.

He tried to clear his mind as he settled in to sleep, reminding himself of what he already knew: You were not meant for something like him. It didn’t matter what he wanted, you were for someone better than him. You needed someone beautiful like you, someone with money and power and purpose. You deserved someone like you. And he needed to get past that, at least enough that he could do his fucking job and keep you safe. That was all he was good for now. He knew that.

He tried to remind himself of that again as he sat by the edge of the pool, his mind lingering on you, on your striking beauty and disquieting kindness and keen talent.

He took a sip of beer.

It didn’t matter, he told himself. None of it mattered.

That was the truth of it. Even if you were his equal - even if he was rich and famous or you were just some waitress or school teacher or something besides the most famous woman on earth - it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like he could do anything about it, anyway.

About a year after he lost Sarah, he’d tried dating. It hadn’t been his idea but Tommy had set him up with a friend of a friend and it hadn’t gone well. Not because she wasn’t a good woman - she was. She was kind, smart, beautiful.

But it didn’t seem to matter what Joel did, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to really care for her. He liked her well enough. Enjoyed her company and enjoyed her body but any real affection seemed far away. He’d broken it off before things would need to get too serious, just the thought of getting any further involved making his chest get tight and his head swim. He wasn’t meant for things like that anymore.

He’d left humanity behind when his daughter had. Anything like love and care was closed to him now, he knew that.

So why did he keep thinking about you?

He downed the rest of the beer and sighed before getting up, looking toward your window. He watched the outline of you pull back the blankets and climb into your bed before stretching and turning out the lamp.

He just shook his head and went inside, putting the bottle in the recycling bin before heading to his own room, trying not to think of you lying on the other side of the wall.

It didn’t make a difference. You were still in his dreams that night.

You were standing opposite him like you had the men you’d read lines with but, instead of the comfortable clothes you’d worn to the audition, you were in the mesh top you’d had on that day. Just that and your panties, like you’d been in the back seat of the car.

“Ready?” You asked, your eyes meeting his and he actually let himself look into them now, and how soft and deep they were. You didn’t wait for his response. “I’ll read you in.”

Your body changed, the physicality of you shifting as you became someone else inside your skin.

“What are you so afraid of?” You asked, almost forcefully.

Joel knew his line. He’d heard it enough the day before.

“You!” He said. “I’m afraid of you, of this power you have… I can’t protect you, I can’t…”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you cut him off, stepping closer. “I need you to trust me.”

You were close enough that you were touching him.

He knew this part, too, but he didn’t stick to his lines.

“But I need to protect you,” he said. “It’s all I know how to do, I… I can’t…”

You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, your eyes meeting his, your body arching against his own and he could feel every line of you through his clothes. You moved to kiss him and he went to meet you but you stopped just short, your breath warm on his skin.

“Why didn’t you protect me, Joel?” You whispered, your lips brushed his as you spoke.

He frowned, pulling back ever so slightly.

This wasn’t in the script.

“You should have saved me,” you said, stepping back from him.

Suddenly, he was somewhere new with you. The middle of the road, a burning car to one side of you. You stepped back from him again, cradling your arm to your chest, blood spreading quickly over your skin from a wound at your stomach.

“No,” he reached for you, but you stepped back. Your ankle was at an odd angle, making you limp. “No, this isn’t…”

“You should have been there,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “You should have saved me. Why didn’t you save me, Joel?”

“I…” he began but you collapsed then and he jumped to catch you, pulling your body tight to his chest, panting for breath. “No, no, no, you’re OK, it’s alright, you’re gonna be OK, you hear me?”

“No,” you reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. “I won’t. Because you didn’t save me.”

He woke with a start, ready to jump between you and any unseen threat. His chest was tight so he could barely breathe, his whole body covered in a sheen of sweat.

It took him a moment to remember where he was, in a bed that was his but wasn’t, in a foreign land that wasn’t really so different from his own. It was still dark outside and he clutched at his chest, trying to calm himself down.

You were safe. You were safe and he was close enough to you that he could protect you if something happened.

He repeated it in his head like a mantra and it helped but only so much. There was this little, nagging thought that, while he thought you were safe and well, he couldn’t be sure. Not until he saw you.

It was early, still dark outside, but he checked his phone. It wasn’t the middle of the night, at least.

He got up on the off chance that you might be awake, glancing toward your bedroom door and seeing it closed. But it looked like there was a light on in the main part of the house so he followed it, finding you leaning against the counter in the kitchen in a bathrobe, a towel around your head. You were scrolling through something on your tablet, drinking from a mug of coffee. There were only a few lights on, the room still mostly dark, something quiet and almost illicit about his presence there. But the tension in his body eased all the same. You were whole, he could relax.

“Did I wake you?” You frowned, glancing up at him from the glow of the tablet screen.

“No,” he said, almost defensive. “Why.”

“Because,” you shrugged, looking back at the tablet. “You usually wear a shirt when I don’t catch you by surprise.”

He glanced down at himself and almost groaned. He hadn’t even thought about putting something on.

“Just woke up,” he said, going to get a cup of coffee for himself. “Didn’t think you’d be awake yet.”

“Well, I needed to get a workout and a shower in before the glam team shows up,” you said, taking a drink from a green smoothie that he hadn’t noticed before. “Don’t worry, I didn’t go anywhere. I just swam some laps and Quinn’s assistant brought me this.”

You held up the cup and waggled it in his direction. He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, because heaven forbid I’m concerned about you gettin’ grabbed by some stalker,” he muttered, getting himself a coffee and leaning against the counter across from you and tried to resist the urge to look down the neck of your robe, something that would be so easy to do with you bent over the counter the way you were.

Then you stood up straight, setting the tablet down, making his life a little easier.

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” you said, your coffee cup tight in your hand.

Joel frowned.

“What d’you mean.”

“I mean,” you took a deep breath. “That I behaved unprofessionally. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, I shouldn't have said the things I did. You’re right, it’s not your job to like me and it doesn’t matter if you do or not. I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable but, if I did, I apologize. You’re good at your job and I appreciate the work you do. It won’t happen again.”

“Oh,” Joel said, taken aback. “Um… It’s… It’s fine.”

“Good,” you said, downing the last of your coffee. “Glam squad will be here in a little while. You may want to hide while you can. I might promise professionalism but I can’t speak for my stylist.”

Joel snorted at that.

“Good advice.”

You smiled tightly, taking the smoothie back toward your bedroom.

“Hey, Siren,” he said, almost wincing as he said it but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to use your real name, the words seeming almost too intimate. But you stopped all the same, facing him with your eyebrows raised. “I meant that. It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong, don’t go beating yourself up about it.”

“Thanks, Big Miller,” you smiled a little, softer this time. “I appreciate that.”

Joel ate something and got dressed before people started showing up for you. He met each of them at the door, making sure he knew who was in the house and what they were there to do. Makeup artists and hairstylists and, of course, Frank and his assistant. There was even a team of people escorting a fucking necklace and earrings in some oversized red box that made Joel grind his teeth. It was a little surprising, just how many people it took to get you ready to go to a fucking event.

He couldn’t imagine what they could all be fucking doing, especially not for hours upon hours. It’s not like there was anything on you to improve, he wasn’t sure why the hell it’d take an entire day to get you ready for anything.

But when you eventually emerged from your room, he understood.

Frank was carrying the back of your dress while you held up the front and you were nodding along to something the woman beside you was saying and Joel couldn’t help but stare at you.

It was like you were a sculpture or a painting, more a work of art than any mortal thing. The gown looked like it had been made for you, finding and highlighting every soft curve of your body. There was a diamond necklace with a massive center stone resting in the hollow of your throat, making him think about how delicate your skin would be there. Your makeup perfectly framed your eyes and the arch of your cheekbones and the plush of your lips. Your hair and nails and eyelashes were all longer and more elegant than they’d been just hours before and you were so beautiful it was hard to look at you. It was painful, wrong in some way. You were something beyond him entirely, ethereal and other. He wasn’t meant to look upon the likes of you.

“You ready?” You asked, turning your attention to him.

“Yeah,” he said, voice rougher than he’d meant it to be. “You really gonna watch an entire movie in that thing?”

“Not the most uncomfortable gown I’ve worn, trust me,” you cocked a smile at him. “But we should go, there’s always traffic for premieres.”

Joel just grunted noncommittally. He needed to get his shit together. He couldn’t afford to let you distract him just because you were beautiful. Not after his dream this morning, not when he knew what was at risk.

He stared determinedly out the window all the way to the theater.

“You’ll have to let me know what you think of it,” you said as the two of you sat in traffic, getting closer and closer to the red carpet.

“Of what,” Joel said, looking your way for the first time in a while, forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your throat.

“Of the film,” you said. “You might be the only person here who will be honest to me about it. I’m curious to know your thoughts.”

“Not a movie critic,” he muttered.

“I know,” you said. “That’s why I’m curious.”

The two of you finally made it to the red carpet and the door opened, your costar there waiting for you with his hand out.

“My God, love,” he said, looking you up and down. “Do you ever look anything but perfect?”

“I do what I can,” you smiled, giving him your hand and letting him help you out of the limo.

Joel got out, too, going around the back of the crowd instead of following you up the carpet, the distance from you making his heart beat faster and his muscles clench.

“Fuckin’ risky,” he muttered to himself, following your path from the other side of the cluster of fans who were pressed against velvet ropes. There was a large screen set up, a camera tracking you and Reese’s progress down the carpet and Joel kept his head on a swivel, watching you and the crowd and the space at the edges for any threats, trying not to grind his teeth at the way your costar’s hands rested at your waist, hip, back.

He’d very nearly relaxed when you and Reese had worked your way down most of the fans. You’d almost made it to the press, the more contained part of the carpet where you’d be more secure. Maybe, he thought, he was just being paranoid. Maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about here.

You started talking to a young man at the end of he cluster of fans, one not much older than the college idiots that seemed to dominate Austin half the fucking year, but there was something about him that set Joel on edge.

You took a selfie with him and signed something for him but he kept clutching at your arm, not letting you move. Reese’s usually carefree expression shifted, eyebrows drawing together, lips pursing. He put his hand at your waist and gave the man a wave, saying something and smiling a smile that didn’t reach his eyes before pulling you away. You smiled warmly at the man, probably saying something nicer than he deserved, and let Reese lead you on but the man wasn’t letting you go. Your eyes went up, immediately finding Joel’s, a spark of fear in your gaze he could see even from this far away.

Both of the man’s hands closed around your wrist and he yanked you back toward him, pulling you out of Reese’s hold and making you stumble and Joel was moving before he fully realized what he was doing.

It was instinctual, shoving his way through the press of fans with no care for who he knocked down on the way. Even with the tightly packed crowd, he was to you in seconds, the man’s hands locked tight around your wrist, bending it at an unnatural angle, Reese trying to pry the man’s hands away from you. Your eyes were wide, the hand that wasn’t in the mans’ grip on his elbow almost soothingly, as though your gentleness was all he needed.

“No, you don’t understand!” The man was pleading. “I love you, I need you, I’ll do everything for you, everything, no one else will ever love you the way I do, I…”

Before he could finish talking, Joel punched him across the face. The blow was hard and sharp and sent the man reeling, almost taking you with him before Reese caught you around your stomach and pulled you back from the velvet ropes.

Event security appeared then, swooping in on the man as he sat on the ground, looking dazed.

“About fuckin’ time,” Joel snapped to them before hurdling the rope and going to you. Reese had angled you away from the camera that had been following the pair of you down the carpet, cradling your wrist in his hands, saying something to you that Joel couldn’t quite hear.

“You OK?” Joel asked, a little breathless. Your head snapped up, your wide eyes meeting his, something almost frantic in your gaze. Your chest was heaving, your breaths coming in fearful little pants and he closed the distance between the two of you quickly, taking the uncanny beauty of your face in his hand. You closed your eyes, pressing your cheek into his palm and his fingers held you tighter than they should but he couldn’t seem to pull back. Your skin was soft, smooth, warm, perfect. You took a deep breath. “You’re safe, it’s OK.”

“Joel,” you said softly, your voice trembling and wet, none of your typical bravado to be found.

“I know,” he said. “But they got him. Not gonna let him hurt you, you’re safe.”

You nodded into him.

“Do we need to leave?” Reese looked to Joel, his brows drawn tight together.

“No,” you said quickly before Joel had a chance to respond. He frowned, going to argue with you but you cut him off. “No, we’re almost to the press, we need to just keep going, it’s fine, I’m fine. We keep going.”

Joel searched your eyes, your face still in his hand and, as afraid as you looked, you were just as determined, too.

“Fine,” Joel clenched his jaw.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“I’ve got you,” Reese said gently to you before turning back to Joel. “I’ll take care of her.”

Joel nodded once, firmly, before finally - painfully - taking his hand back from you. You closed your eyes and took a deep, centering breath. You raised your chin defiantly and steeled your spine and opened your eyes again. You smiled a little as you did and, for the first time, Joel recognized a shift in you. It was like the auditions, when you embodied someone else. You weren’t yourself anymore, you were just another character now, someone with your face and voice but detached from you.

“Let’s go,” you said, leading Reese down the carpet toward the press.

Joel watched until you were at the backdrop, smiling and posing with your costar, making sure event security was close by before slipping back into the crowd.

The man who’d grabbed you had been wrestled away from the crowd, tucked off to the side and now in custody of police. Joel went and found them, introducing himself to the cops and telling them about the stalking threat he’d been hired to protect against.

The man was still yelling, fully sobbing as he said again and again how much he loved you, how all he wanted was to take care of you. Joel wished the police would turn their backs for a moment, just a moment, just long enough for him to get another hit in on him. He wanted to hurt him, scare him, make him realize that you were protected and that he couldn’t get to you.

Joel had never dealt with a stalker before, but he wouldn’t be surprised if this was the guy. The level of obsession, the passion, the willingness to hurt you to get what he wanted made it seem likely.

That was good, he thought. If this was the guy, you were out of immediate danger. You’d be safe - or as safe as someone as famous as you could be. There was a certain sense of peace in him at that.

But there was this keen longing in him, too.

If this was your stalker, his contract would be up. He would go back to Texas with you, pack up the things at your house and say goodbye to this strange semblance of a life he’d found himself in with you and your niece. He’d be without the both of you, alone in the tomb of his house, waiting for the next time he could jump in front of a bullet for someone else so he could feel alive.

He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest at that thought, the sickening feeling in his stomach.

This had been a mistake, this whole fucking job had been a mistake. The second he knew who you were he should have told Tommy no, he couldn’t. You were too close to Sarah, the job too long lasting. It was too big a risk for him, too much of a chance for him to get attached to someone he had no business getting attached to.

“Joel.”

He looked around to find Quinn at his back, her face drawn.

“She alright?” He asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“She made it through the press but she might have a broken wrist,” she said, her voice low. “She’s ducking out the back once the film starts, we need to get her to a doctor. She has fight training starting soon and an injury is going to be who knows how much in production delays…”

Joel bristled.

“And if she’s got a broken fuckin’ bone it needs to be treated.”

“Obviously,” Quinn rolled her eyes. “I thought that went without saying.”

“She’s not just a fucking profit center,” he narrowed his eyes at your manager. “She’s a person.”

Quinn looked at him for a moment, considering him.

“I know that, Joel,” she said gently. “I just wasn’t aware you did.”

Quinn, at least, had the foresight to get your usual SUV to pick you up instead of the limo you’d arrived in. Security let Joel in the back door and you were waiting for him there, looking so out of place among the boxes and storage in your gown and jewels. You were stiff and oddly small, shoulders hunched as you leaned back against a cinderblock wall, cradling your injured wrist to your chest. Someone tried to talk to him but Joel ignored them, instead going straight for you.

“Changed your mind?” He asked, hands in his pockets so he didn’t touch you again.

You looked at him through your lashes, something sharply vulnerable in your eyes for a moment before you straightened and smirked a little.

“Figured going to an afterparty with a wrist the size of a grapefruit was a bad look,” you said, showing your arm to him. Your wrist was swollen and discolored and he resisted the urge to take it gently in his hands. “Don’t want the press to be about this, we want it to be about the movie.”

“Alright, c’mon then,” he said. “Get you checked out.”

He put his arm around you, tucking you against his side as you held your wrist against yourself. He stayed close to you on the drive, your body warm and relaxed against him.

“Do you think that was him?” You asked quietly, voice small.

“I don’t know,” Joel said. His hand was on your arm. Your skin was soft. “I talked to the police, told them about the stalker, they’re gonna investigate…”

“He scared me,” you said softly. “I know there were threats but… It didn’t seem real. I didn’t think anything would happen.”

“I know,” Joel said, his thumb tracing a slow, steady path over your skin. “I’ve got you. Keep you safe.”

He said it as much for himself as he did for you. He tried not to think about why he needed to.

The driver took the two of you to a small doctor’s office that, at this hour, was quiet. A nurse met you both at the back and you were quickly ushered into an exam room and given an x-ray, you in your gown on the cold paper of the exam table a sight that made Joel’s heart clench.

“You did indeed break it,” the doctor said, pointing out a thin line on the x-ray. “It’s a minor fracture, shouldn’t need a full cast and just a splint for three to five weeks.”

“How soon before I can train?” You frowned. “Can I train in a splint?”

“That really what you should be worried about?” Joel asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

You looked over to him, your eyebrows knitting together.

“There’s a whole movie depending on me, Joel,” you said. “People have contracts, they have bills they need to pay. I can’t just take weeks off.”

“Can’t make a movie if you don’t heal,” he muttered.

“You need to take at least three weeks before you do anything extreme with that wrist,” the doctor said. “If you don’t, you’ll need a cast and you’ll be out of commission even longer.”

“Alright Doc,” you smiled. “You win, I’ll take it easy.”

“Good,” he said. “I’d hate to see you try to hold an Oscar in a cast.”

It was a relief to get you back home again, in a contained space that Joel had gotten to know in the last week. Frank and a hairstylist met you there, the three of you disappearing into your room for a while and Joel considered sitting in his own, not sure he could handle seeing you again but then, he wasn’t sure he could handle not seeing you, either. So he sat on the couch, existing in a state of limbo, not sure what to do next.

“Sounds like you saved the day,” Frank said when he eventually emerged, a garment bag over his arm.

“Dunno about that,” Joel said. “Still let her get her fuckin’ wrist broke.”

“Seems like it could have been a lot worse if you hadn’t stepped in,” he said. “Broken wrist will heal.”

Joel just grunted.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Thank you. She’s one of the good ones.”

He left before Joel got a chance to respond. The hairstylist left not long after, a bag of hair in her hands, and, when you didn’t come out right after, he almost thought you’d gone to bed. He was considering doing the same when you slowly, almost cautiously, came down the hall, peering into the living room as though your presence in your own home was somehow illicit.

“Oh,” you said, in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants and wrist splint. The makeup was gone, the long nails and lashes and hair, too. But you were still beautiful, maybe even more so now. It was the most human Joel had ever seen you. “Sorry, I thought you’d be in your room…”

“Don’t need to apologize,” he shrugged. “Your house. You OK?”

“Fine,” you shrugged. “A little sore but… I’ll be fine, it’s just a minor fracture.”

Joel nodded slowly and you stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“I’m going to make tea,” you said. “Eat something solid for the first time today now that I’m out of that dress. Call Ellie, check in. Want to join?”

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to say yes, follow you to the kitchen and be next to you, have tea, talk to Ellie. He wanted to keep existing in the same sphere as you, be folded into your life the way he had become the last few months.

But he couldn’t. He knew that. You and Ellie and your lives weren’t for him.

“Should go to bed,” he said instead. “Been a long week.”

You smiled - a little sadly, he thought - but nodded and went to the kitchen and he listened to you just exist for a moment before he left you there alone.

It didn’t seem to make a difference. He dreamed of you again.

It was different this time. You were far away from him, in the t-shirt and sweats you’d changed into, larger than life but out of reach. All he could do was watch as someone hurt you and you looked for him to help you. He ran and ran but he couldn’t reach you, couldn’t do a goddamn thing except watch you hurt because he couldn’t do the one thing he’d been built to do.

He stared at the ceiling when he woke up, his heart pounding and body tense.

He had to stop this. Whatever road he was going down, whatever he was doing, he had to stop. He couldn’t live his life this way, where he was always afraid and waiting for things to go wrong. He’d learned that lesson once, the hard way. He couldn’t do it again. He just couldn’t.

“Ready to get back to the Lone Star State?” You asked, already in the kitchen when Joel got up.

“Guess so,” he said. You watched him, like you were waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

“Well,” you said when he was quiet for too long. “I know Ellie is looking forward to you coming back, she told me something about that video game you guys…”

“Look,” Joel cut you off. “Ellie’s a great kid…”

“Agreed.”

“But, if that guy was your stalker, I got no reason to be at your house all the time,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, your shoulders slumping a little. “Right. I hadn’t really… That makes sense. Yeah.”

Joel poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Should go get packed,” he said.

He didn’t wait for a response, just going back to his room to gather his things and avoid you and it was a relief when the car was there, ready to take the two of you to the airport.

“We do have to make one stop on the way,” you said, holding the red box that had shown up yesterday.

Joel frowned.

“Don’t you got people for that?”

“Well, the original plans got a little fucked with the whole ‘crazy man at the premiere’ thing,” you said. “But keep your shirt on, Big Miller, it’ll only take five minutes.”

“Whatever you say,” he said, rolling his eyes, wishing he was back in Texas already.

He sat in back next to you, anyway.

The stop at the jeweler was quick - you trading the large and ostentatious red box for a much smaller one - and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ushered onto the plane, the last people aboard as you tucked yourself into the window seat in the front row, a baseball cap tugged low over your face and a sweatshirt covering the brace on your arm.

Joel was tense the entire flight. He hated when people realized you were aboard and started demanding autographs and selfies, when you got up to use the bathroom, when the plane hit turbulence and he knew there wouldn't be a damn thing he could do to save either of you if the plane went down and that level of powerlessness disturbed him at his core.

He’d been stupid with you. Careless, reckless, dumb. He knew better now, he knew where giving a fuck led and it was nowhere good. He thought that wasn’t a risk with you, that your spoiled fucking attitude and obscene wealth and the ease of your life would make it so he could never care for you but he was wrong. He gave a shit. For the first time in five years, he cared.

And he needed to get far away from that before it killed you both.

He went wordlessly to his room at your house in Austin when you got there, Seth beating you both to the house to take over so Joel could have a few days off. He grabbed a few things he knew he’d want and resolved to ask Seth to pack the rest for him when the police confirmed that it had, indeed, been your stalker last night. For now, he just needed to get out of here and get away from you.

“Hey, Joel!” You followed after him as he stalked toward his truck, his duffle over his shoulder.

He gritted his teeth and turned to face you.

“What.”

You all but flinched back from him, blinking in surprise at his curt tone. He knew he was being short with you but it needed to happen. It had to.

“Oh,” you said, the smaller red box from the jeweler in your hands. “I just…” You thrust it toward him, looking at him with wide and oddly honest eyes. “I got you something. I ordered it before the thing yesterday, just to say thank you for everything in LA, but it can be kind of a going away gift now, too, since… well, anyway.”

He took it, the fact that you seemed out of sorts disorienting, and opened it. Inside was a watch. It was simple, rectangular with a silver case and black leather strap, but obviously luxurious.

“It’s engraved,” you smiled, fidgeting with your sweatshirt sleeves. “Which is probably dumb but I couldn’t resist, I’m a sucker for shit like engraving, don’t ask me why…”

“You think this is what I want?” He asked, holding up the box, voice cold.You just blinked at him for a moment. “That I want some fancy fucking jewelry? That I’m like your rich fucking friends you can just buy off or something?”

“What?” You looked at him, hurt. “No, no, I… I just… Yours is broken and I wanted to say thank you for…”

“For me doin’ my job,” he cut you off. “That’s what this was, a job. We’re not friends, you don’t need to thank me for shit. You paid me, I protected you, end of story. I don’t want your fancy fucking watch, I don’t want…”

“Then sell it!” You snapped, angry now. “Consider it a tip, run it over with your car because you hate me so fucking much, tell the tabloids about how the movie star bought you a present, I don’t care! I know you’re thrilled to be rid of me, anyway. Nice knowing you, Miller. Have a nice life.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. Instead, you stalked back into your house, leaving him there with nothing left but a hollow ache in his chest and the watch that he wished he could find a home for on his arm.

Next Chapter

A/N: Look. If you're here because you've read my other stuff, are we at all surprised that we ended up here? Is anyone surprised that I'm back in my natural habitat - torturing Joel Miller - yet again?

I wish I knew why I was like this, I really do, but alas, here we are. Thanks for reading it and for putting up with my total lack of a posting schedule. I really appreciate you being here and caring about these characters enough to read the monster chapters I put out about them.

Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen@eff4freddie@brittmb115@copperhalfcent@r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent @secretlyangelic @pedrobae @scarletsloveletter

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #tsats #the savage and the sanctuary

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naomikozura · 7 months ago

Text

Playing With Fire: Chapter 3

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, angst (slight) violence, mention of weapons, use of bombs (slight), use of weapons, bodily violence, attempted murder, drinking, some sexual themes (slight), breaking into homes, stalking (if you squint) (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 10.7K

Summary: Killing men is almost as easy as seducing them…. almost. Your job to get in contact with Penguin’s potential new partner comes easy, convincing him to work with your side of the crime ring should be simple. Not when a specific someone doesn’t know his boundaries, especially when it comes to your personal affairs.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2 || Chapter 4

Another day, another mission, another raid by the son of a bitch. You had just about enough of his stupid games. You were currently hiding and spying in on one of his hidden locations, trying to dismantle his operations one by one.

You had placed a series of explosives around the shipment he had, planning to destroy it all, and so you waited patiently on the roof of the building just a block away, saying through your goggles and watching as he held his AK-47 in hand and looked over the men packing up the crates for delivery.

You waited a few minutes before you felt the vibration in your wrist go off. Perfect timing. You thought as you watched the crates implode and cause a massive cloud of smoke around all of the men, the explosions getting louder and bigger with each one that detonated. You smirked at yourself.

$100K gone.

You watched as Red’s men scrambled to find the source, his eyes narrowed as he looked up, his eyes meeting yours knowing he had zoomed in his helmet’s software. You smirked at him, waving as he grabbed the sniper off the ground next to him and aiming at you.

Not today motherfucker.

Another explosion went off, causing Red to lose balance, seeing the anger in his body language as you stood and ran off to the other buildings, disappearing as you hid in the night.

You: 1

Red: 0

But your lead was short lived, a few days later you had another run in, this time he found a job you were on. You were trying to get information from another server database, only to find him already there. You saw the hard drive in his hand, chasing after him as he escaped into the underground train system.

You threw a star at him, causing a rip in his thigh but he recovered quickly by shooting at you, slowing you down but missing as you tried catching up to him. You pulled out your own gun, shooting at his feet causing him to trip and you jumped, kicking him in the head and seeing the crack of his helmet. How thick was that thing that could survive so many of your kicks?!

He grabbed your arm, flinging you over his shoulder as your back slammed to the ground with force. You grunted as you tried to stand, his boot connecting with your side as he kicked you towards the ledge of the ramp. Your body struggled to get ahead, but you felt his boot dig into your shoulder, your head leaning over the edge as you struggled.

He was trying to fucking kill you and you were not about ti give him the satisfaction. He leaned down, his knee now digging into your shoulder to hold you in place as his gloved hand grabbed your face, forcing you to look at his ominous stare. His helmet was bright red like blood, and you knew his hands were covered in it. Gotham ran red because of him and he loved it.

“Scared of a little train?”

“More like I’m scared of that ugly face of yours”, you spit out as he wrapped his hand around your throat, cutting off your oxygen supply to make you pass out while forcing your head down over the ledge. Your body was in fight or flight as he slowly started to hold his weight, torturing you with the psychological factor of if he holds you here, you get hit by the train, you die. He was elongating the torture to get at you.

You heard the rumble of the train from the floor, your body going into overdrive. His grip stayed on your throat, slowing crushing your windpipe and causing you to see black points in your vision, the lack of oxygen causing you to almost lose consciousness.

“Come on sweetheart, I know you’ve got more fight in you than this' ', he mocked, your hands trying to loosen his grip, pulling at his hands but his grip only tightened into an iron grip. “I’m sure you’re just as pretty with your head off your shoulders''

The sound of the whistle from the train slowly got louder and louder, your panic setting in but you covered it up well. You reached for your knife, slicing at his arm and maiming his skin. He only sucked in a painful breath, before lifting your body and slamming it against the concrete. You could feel the train getting closer and his intent getting stronger.

You slid your leg in between the two of you, using it to push him off of you and your force pushing you onto the train tracks, your body hitting the heavy metal with force. You couldn’t breathe. You were disoriented. You tried pushing yourself up, your vision hazy.

You tried standing, your body still crouched as the rumble of the train came by. It was about to be here. You needed to get out. Now.

You tried to focus, once you stood you were met with Red pointing his Jericho 941 at you.

“Move and I’ll shoot”, he threatened.

He was forcing you into a corner….

This was his payback for the bomb and the roof.

Fuck!

The train’s headlights shined at you, the blaring honk sounding out and rattling you to your core. Red’s lock on you didn’t falter. You had about five seconds to get out and live or stay and get smashed into nothing.

The train was going at least 200 miles an hour, you waited until it was only a few mere meters before you ducked at the sound of Red’s gun shooting off, the bullet digging into your shoulder as the train sped by, your body launching itself onto the opposing platform. Your arm is burning in pain.

The son of a bitch shot you.

You quickly ran with the train, looking over and seeing Red running alongside you on the opposite side through the gaps in between the cars. You needed to get the hell out of here.

You kept running down the platform, once the train passed completely watching as Red jumped from his side over to yours, the stomp of his boots loud as he bolted towards you.

You had a good gain on him but he was fast. If you could reach the stairs you’d be able to get away from him. But just as you reached the first flight you felt him grab you, pulling you back down and slamming you against the wall.

His helmet got close to your face, his eyes narrowed and you had daggers of your own. You struggled against him, but stopped when he dug his hand into the gunshot wound you had. You let out a scream, the pain burning through your body as the adrenaline pumped through your veins.

“I love making little errand rats scream.” he whispered. “Teaches them to stay in their fucking place”, you lifted your legs, kicking at him as he pulled you down with him, your bodies falling to the ground as he landed on top of you.

“You’re a fighter. I’ll give you that.” you continued trying to get at him, pushing your body out from under him, reaching for your gun only to feel him weigh you down with his body. Forcing your arm behind your back as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing down on your throat. “Who said you could leave?”

The position was painful, your injured arm would probably get infected if he didn’t stop fucking with it. You kept trying to move away, your energy running out from the adrenaline wearing off and the pain settling in.

“You need to learn better, Sweetheart. You’re nothing without Penguin behind you”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking child!”, you forced out, your anger still deep in your soul. Your hair stuck to your face because of the sweat, your body shutting down at the wound taking over your senses. Red looked at you before he laughed deeply.

“Black Mask knows what he’s getting into, I wouldn't expect Penguin’s little pet to understand that.”

“L-Let… me- go..”, you choked out, your vocal chords being crushed under the weight of his arm. His crimson covered head moved closer, almost like his mouth was next to your ear.

“Deliver a message to the fat ass you call a boss and that piece of shit Sionis.”, his distorted voice commanded. You felt the air leaving your lungs as you reached a hand up to try and loosen his grip, only to cause him to narrow his eyes and tighten his hold.

“Tell them Gotham will run red soon. And it won’t be my blood painting the city if they decide to refuse my demands.”.

Your eyes nearly closed due to the lack of oxygen, but after a few seconds you felt your body get tossed to the ground like a rag doll. You tried to catch your breath but you felt weak, you had been deprived of air for too long. All you saw was that red helmet looking down at you before he disappeared, the pain flowing through your body as you gave into the tiredness and the extent of your wounds.

•

Soreness overtook your body, the timing in your ears causing your head to hurt. You forced your eyes open only to see the empty underground train station. Nothing but dried blood on the ground from your shoulder wound. You pushed yourself up, your shoulder burning as the pain shot through your body. Your arm was sore and burned, it left you frustrated. You wanted to find the son of a bitch and rip his eyes out.

Red would meet his match, you just needed to hit him when he was at his weakest, catch him off guard. You knew you’d have the upper hand and it would be the only way to get him to buckle.

Your goal was to take him down and it would give you everything. The bounty. The protection. The reputation. You would be the one who took down the Red Hood. You would have it all and you wouldn’t need Penguin’s name for anything anymore.

You pushed yourself off the ground, your arm limp as a wave of pain flooded you again. You needed to clean the wound and wrap it, the fucker probably risked getting it infected.

You pulled yourself through the streets, your legs shaky but you found your way back to your apartment, stripping your body of your bloody clothes and hopping into the shower. You let the warm water rinse off all the sweat, blood, and dirt from your body, the steam covering you in a comforting blanket. Your head hung under the water, your arm feeling better under the warmth. You had a few other cuts and sore spots that you knew would leave bruises but nothing else worried you. You needed to disinfect and wrap your arm, rest was also on the agenda since you’d been up for almost 26 hours before you ran into Red and had him knock you out.

You wrapped yourself in a towel and stepped out of the shower an hour later, your body relaxed after having so much built up tension. You cleaned all your wounds and wrapped your arm after pouring alcohol and ointment on it.

Once you were done, you let yourself fall on the bed, wearing only your underwear and an oversized t-shirt. Your head lolled to the side, noting the time.

It was barely 6am.

You could probably get a few hours of sleep before heading to the Lounge. You set the alarm, letting your eyes close and fall into a slumber from exhaustion and not being suffocated. You needed rest. Your eyes closed as the sun had barely started rising.

“It looks a lot better than it did a few days ago. Just keep putting the medicine on it and keep it wrapped”, the doctor said as he finished wrapping your arm. The soreness is still present after three days.

Penguin had taken you off patrol to recover from your fight with Red. It gave you the perfect time to go in and work on the Calvi case. It required no real physical activity and your arm was still healing so it was the better option.

You slid your top back over your head, slowly guiding your arm through the sleeve and rolling it to loosen the stress.

The day continued as normal, Penguin giving you intel, you finding more information on Calvi, and eventually making it through to find out where his routine spots were.

You managed to get dressed for the night, letting Penguin know your communications wouldn’t be as frequent in order to successfully pull this through.

The mid thigh dress loosely hung on your body, tight enough to show your figure but loose enough to make your curves smooth delicately. Your hair framing your face in a loosely done blowout. Your make up was simple, but you applied a dark red lipstick making your lips appear more seductive. It was always the best way to get men to give you everything you wanted.

You had made your way to Upper Gotham, calling a private car to take you to the Sapphire. An upscale, luxury club that only elite members could enter into. Luckily for you, you managed to bypass the system and register yourself as a top paying member, as well as getting you the exclusive induction card that only elite members had. No one knew what it looked like except those members. Luckily for you getting yours wasn’t too hard. Just a couple strings pulled and boom, you had it.

You walk up to the concierge, sliding your card as the screen flashes green and she lets you walk by. You followed into the main hall, the room full of all kinds of people from every rich family in the city. You recognized businessmen, stock brokers, luxury goods traders, liquor tyrants, everyone who was anyone would come to the club. Especially during the weekend once the offices closed.

You skimmed the room quickly, your outfit helping you blend into the crowd and gave off a silent luxury appeal, not too loud, but not too obviously fake. The dress was simple, classy, and anyone with a good eye could recognize the vintage piece from a mile away. You needed to blend in after all.

You moved through the room, your eyes keeping focused on the bar as you sat on one of the stools, leaning forward as the bartender placed a napkin down, asking for your drink order. You quickly told him a glass of the house red, you didn’t need to be inebriated tonight. You needed to focus.

Once the bartender returned, you picked up the glass and sipped the bold drink as you let the taste seep into your tastebuds. It was rich even for a house wine.

There were a few men playing chess at the table across the room, each one focused on calculative thoughts before moving a piece across the board. You always knew that life was like a game of chess. The better at the game, the better you were at playing your cards in real life. It wasn’t hard to navigate anything, though it required training and skill. Something you had spent the last six years trying to perfect. It was airtight. At least, as close to it as you could possibly get.

A form moving from the entrance caught your eye. He had dark hair that was slicked back, a dark suit fitted to his body that almost melded perfectly. He was tall, built, and had an aura of sophistication floating around him.

Calvi.

He walked over to the men playing chess, shaking their hands as you focused in on what they could possibly be talking about. They all laughed and you tried to make yourself not stand out for staring so long. The glass of wine touched your lips again before setting it down, pushing a strand of hair out of your face as you made eye contact with him. His eyes focused on you as you moved your hair back, reeling him in just like you wanted.

He excused himself, motioning to the bar and the men nodded, continuing their game as you swiveled back towards the counter and feeling his gaze on your back like a burning fire.

Too easy.

“Is this seat taken?’, his deep voice rang out, looking up you noticed his dark eyes held intent in them, strong and committed.

“No. Go ahead.”, you motioned softly as you let your hair fall over your shoulder as you watched him with hooded eyes.

“Whisky. Neat, please.”, he motioned to the bartender as he quickly nodded, starting to prepare his drink. Once the drink was set in front of him, he took a sip then turned towards you. “I’ve never seen you here before. Are you new?”

“I am. My name is Vivian”, you responded before taking another sip of your wine. “Got an invite from a colleague of mine, said this is one of the most exclusive clubs in Gotham and figured I had to check it out after getting such a kind invite.”

“It’s the most exclusive and holds all the most influential people in Gotham.”, he mentioned before leaning back smoothly, his confidence radiating off his body. It was a good thing he was attractive because this would be so much harder if he wasn’t. “My name is Calvi Calbera”.

“So, I take it that you’re a part of Gotham’s influential elite?”, your eyes couldn’t have held more seductiveness to them even if you tried, his body language giving away that you had him reeled in.

“Probably one of the most influential.”, he smirked, bringing his glass to his lips before setting it down gently on the counter. “I work in the luxury goods market. Seems to bring in a lot of revenue when you work with… delicacies.”

“Any ones in particular that you like?”

“Diamonds. They’re the most expensive and most worth the investment.”, you didn’t miss how his eyes trailed down your body, your dress clinging to your curves and the smooth skin of your legs showing off as you crossed them slightly. It didn’t take a genius to guess what he was thinking of. “You should come by my estate. We can talk more about them in private, in the comfort of a home.”

You wanted to cringe at his offer. His estate. You just remembered exactly why you hated the majority of the rich people in Gotham. You forced your face to stay neutral, your eyes flickering to your glass before taking the last sip of the wine.

“If you have some good red, and something worthwhile, I’ll consider it.”, you placed a hand on his knee, smiling at him with a sweet look on your face. Sweet yet seductive. It made him latch onto the bait. He leaned in, taking out a business card and handing it to you.

“Here’s the address, come on Saturday. When you arrive tell them you have an appointment with me.”, his voice was laced with lust, you could even see the tightness of his pants. You just did your finishing move, looking at his eyes before flickering quickly to his lips, then quickly back to his gaze seeing the growing darkness in his hues. Your face leaned into his, your hand moving slowly up his leg and slightly on his thigh.

“I look forward to it.”, you smiled at him, grabbing your purse and leaving a $100 on the counter before walking away, his eyes on you as you walked out confidently but slowly so he could reel more into the trap you laid out.

Once you reached the outside of the building, your car pulled up, the valet opening the door as you stepped inside and got comfortable. You gave the driver your address as he started following his GPS.

You looked at the card Calvi gave you, looking at the information and finding out his estate was about 30 minutes outside of the main parts of the city. Gotham Heights. The rich and powerful all lived on this side of the city.

You committed to memorizing the address, tucking it into your purse as the driver arrived at your complex, tipping the driver before heading up the elevator and pushing through the door of your apartment.

It was late, looking at the clock as it read 10pm.

You really shouldn’t have stayed so long but the time seemed to pass a lot faster when the jobs involved going undercover versus being in the field. You liked infiltrating others’ lives and playing the part even for just a few hours. It brought some insight to the life you’d never have.

Kicking off your heels, you rubbed the backs of your feet, ankles red from walking in them for the evening. You never sported heels often but you did so enough that it was easy enough to walk in them. They still hurt your feet though.

A small noise snapped you to attention, pulling out your gun from the drawer in the kitchen, just one of many you had stashed throughout the apartment. You slowly did a walk through, looking closely at each of the rooms, looking through everything as you finished out the closets in the living room and moved into the bedroom.

The lights were off. Nothing seemed out of place.

You slowly moved towards the restroom, checking the closet, in the shower, hell even the cabinets even though logically a human couldn’t fit in there. You relaxed slightly, walking back into the bedroom, the darkness looming from outside as the night got darker.

Just as you began to walk out of the room, you noticed something.

One of the vases you had filled with water was knocked over…

What the hell?

The feeling of rough hands gripping your arm sent you into fight mode, struggling against the person assaulting you as you tried to hit them with the bottom of the gun. Their grip tightened, forcing your hand to release the gun before you felt your body get thrown on the bed and shoved into the mattress.

Just as you began to curse at them, a large hand clamped over your mouth, that familiar red helmet bringing an anger in your bones.

“Shhh, don’t want to wake the neighbors now do we?”, he muttered.

Your eyes glared daggers at him, wishing they were real so he could suffer from the cuts. Your body was stuck under his, his muscular legs holding your body in place as the rest of his frame was being held up by one arm. He was huge compared to you. His body radiating a heat that left your skin on fire. You felt exposed. You weren’t wearing anything but a measly dress, your chest almost flush against his.

“You sure do make it believable enough that you’re one of them.”, he had a mocking tone to his voice, your body still trying to thrash against him but to no avail. “Now, what are you doing at Sapphire talking to Calvi Calbera?”

Before he made another move, you kicked him in the groin, hard enough to make him double over and loosen his grip on you. It was more than enough time to shove him to the ground, grabbing the dagger that was hidden under your dresser and getting on top of him, your knees holding down his arms as you held the dagger to his throat.

“How the hell did you find where I live?!”, you bit out, your breath uneven as you felt the rush of adrenaline in your body. “How did you get in?!”

“Sweetheart, I’m a detective. I can find anything out about anyone in this city whenever I want. Even you.”, his eyes narrowed as a way to taunt you causing your jaw to clench in irritation as you brought your face closer to his and staring at him with murder in your eyes.

“How. Did. You. Get. In.”, you repeated, this time more serious and the knife pricking his skin, the small trickle of blood running down the side of his neck.

“Window, doll.”, he motioned slightly with a small cock of his head. “You didn’t lock it.”

You turned to look at the window, noticing the lock was intact, not broken. If he broke in, the lock wouldn’t look like it was brand new and yet it was. Had you really forgotten to lock it? You looked at the window before turning back to Red, confusion quickly covered up with frustration.

“You have no right coming to my home.”

“I wasn’t asking for an invite.” , you leaned back slightly, the weight of your legs on his arms lifting as you felt him sit up, your body still sitting on his as you glared at him. He didn’t make any sudden movements, just held your gaze as you held the knife to his throat still.

“Why are you here?”, you asked, about to pull yourself off of him before his hand grabbed a handful of your hair, gripping it and forcing you to look at him.

“You need to learn your place. That’s why I’m here.”, he pulled you closer to his helmet, his eyes boring into yours. “You cost me $100k. On a good shipment batch. I think I’ll have to send a message back to the fat bird to get my point across to not fuck with me.”

“You have tried killing me every time we’ve run into each other for the past month!”, you fought back, his grip tightening.

“Don’t act like the feeling isn’t mutual”, he breathed.

“I have a job to do. Killing you gets me out of this fucking city”, you struggled against him, trying to make him release his grip.

“And you’ve failed every time. Why is that sweetheart? What are you hiding?”

“Fuck. Off.”, you bit out.

Why was he testing you?

He had an open shot to snap your neck, he could just do it and get it over with.

“Does it have to do with Black Mask? You seem to hold a resentment when all he wants is your attention”

“I don’t care about what he wants. I don’t give a damn about him.”

His gaze held yours, feeling his hand go slack as you pushed yourself off of him. You threw the knife on the dresser, rolling your arm from the soreness. He watched you as you moved, his eyes skimming over your body as your back was turned to him.

What was your motive? Why did you let him go?

The question whirled in his head as you turned, staring at him as he remained exposed on the floor. He wasn’t vulnerable, he had everything he needed to disable you, yet he didn’t move.

“Leave. Now.”

“So bossy”, he muttered as he stood, his frame towering over you. Your body moved back as he pressed you against the nightstand, his arms on either side of your body as he caged you in. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Why let me go when your job is to kill me?” he mummed, cocking his head in turn.

“Spite”, was all you said, the seconds ticking by as he let out a deep chuckle before pushing back and heading towards the window he’d climbed in through, pushing himself out and leaving.

There was an emptiness that flooded the room, but you couldn’t quite place it. Red was getting too comfortable with just showing up into your life whenever he wanted. What was he hiding? What was he up to?

You slipped out of your dress, changing into an oversized shirt and leaving nothing but underwear on as you tied your hair up and washed your face. You stared at yourself for a moment in the mirror, a flood of emotion overwhelming you as you reached to touch the necklace around your neck.

Would everything be different if you were still here?

The memories flooded you, every pact you made to never become a part of this life entering your mind. Would you have been swept away and been out of Gotham had he come back?

“You do realize that Batman will kill me if he found out about this?”, Robin said as you and him snuck through the city, reaching another rooftop that just peered over the water.

“C’mon it’ll be fine, besides when do you ever see fireworks that aren’t because of some criminal trying to create a diversion?”, you laughed as he rolled his eyes.

“Good point.”, he smiled, following as you stood on the ledge, watching as the countdown sounding out went down a second at a time.

“Okay Gotham, let’s get ready for our 10-second countdown!” you heard the announcer over the speaker say as the crowd chanted.

“5! 4! 3! 2!….1!”, the onslaught of fireworks and sparklers lit up the night, the crowd screaming, shouting, celebrating the coming of the New Year.

You looked at the fireworks, your eyes glowing at the sight. It’d be the first time you’ve seen them in such a way. celebratory fashion.

“Aren’t they-“, your words got cut off at the feeling of Robin grabbing your face, planting a kiss on your lips and bringing you closer to him. You melted into him, his hands tightening around your waist. He flooded your senses, your entire body falling into his charm, his humor, his intelligence, his heart, his everything.

He pulled away from the kiss, his forehead resting on yours as he stared at you.

“Happy New Year (Y/n)”, he whispered as you smiled against his lips.

“Happy New Year, Rob”, you whispered back.

If only times were as simple as they once were. Nothing was ever as it seemed and that was the reality of your situation. Everything would always fade away from you, only leaving yourself to get out alive.

What a foolish thing to believe in at such a young age. You were only 15, him 16. There was too much of life to live to assume that moment could stay isolated in time forever. You could only hope.

Turning off the faucet, you went back to bed, laying down as you looked out the window and took in the light from the moon, a part of you feeling like someone was watching.

You looked at the lock, lifting yourself up to close it but freezing in the process. You couldn’t explain why but you settled back into bed.

The lock on the window still left open.

You had finalized the steps of your plan, fixing your hair as you pinned a few pieces up and left others to frame your face. It gave you a delicate look, softened your features and gave you a sort of edge. It was dark, sultry.

Spraying a few pumps of your perfume on your neck and wrists, you took one last look in the mirror. You looked sexy, seductive, like any man would fall at your feet. It gave you a boost of confidence as you grabbed your small clutch off the counter, ensuring your dagger was hidden at the bottom with a decent amount of cash, your wallet, lipstick, and your gun. It was along the lining but the bulge was hidden thanks to the other items in your bag.

It took about 20-30 minutes to reach Calvi’s estate, watching as the mansion pulled into view. It was beautiful, and the architecture was gothic but with a light twist of old money and class. It was bright, the reflection from the setting sun making it glow beautifully. There was a garden in the front as the gates opened, the driver buzzing in at the entrance as you showed your identification. Fake identification at that.

The car pulled into the driveway that wrapped around a fountain. It was made of marble, and had beautiful carvings in the stone. It was so intricate you could’ve sworn it might’ve been made by a renaissance sculptor.

The door opened as one of the butlers pulled it away from the car, holding a hand for you to grab onto as you thanked them, a soft smile thrown in their direction.

You walked up the staircase, Calvi waiting for you in his fitted suit, his hair freshly cut and his hands in his pockets as he smiled at you. He extended a hand, taking yours in his as he pressed a kiss on your knuckles.

Chivalry isn’t dead after all.

His eyes did a quick skim of your body, the dress you wore hugging your figure perfectly, the back being exposed to show some skin. It had a pearl chain that hung loosely in the back, but overall the entire ensemble was more than enough to lure him in.

He led you down the hall, the walls covered in old art and the tables filled with flowers, probably thanks to his housing staff. It was unique, grand, over the top yet simple and calming at the same time. You’d been in Gotham Heights’ homes before, but none really drew you in like this one was right now. Calvi had taste, or at least the person who selected his decor had taste.

A flash of blue caught your eye, you stopped as you looked at it. Perfectly marked shades of yellow contrast against the blue, it was beautiful. Something you’d never imagined you’d see.

“Is this real?”, you asked, your eyes glued to the painting.

“Every piece in this house is real, my dear.”

Your head tilted as you soaked in the work of art in front of you. The impressionism was well done, though you knew the history behind the piece.

“You like Van Gogh?”Calvi hummed next to you.

You paused for a moment, soaking in admiration at the lilies in the painting. Each stroke is simple, delicate, and impactful. Van Gogh definitely had a mind far beyond comprehension. You closed your eyes, turning to Calvi and smiling at him.

“No. Not at all actually.”, you responded as you followed him down the hall.

“You like to read?”, you laughed as you grabbed one of the books Robin had brought with him.

“Yeah, I read a lot of Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf too.”, he flipped through some of the pages, almost like he was examining the book as you read the back of the book in your hand.

“How exactly did you get into reading?”

Robin shrugged. “I guess all that free time sneaking into libraries paid off.” he handed you a fry, biting down on it as you finished reading the back of the hardcover. “What about you? Do you like reading?”

“Mmm, no. But the family has a lot of cool paintings around the house. Sometimes I look up what they are and learn about the history of it. I think Rembrant and Van Gogh are my favorites.”

“Yeah? Art history. Almost as cool as Literature”

“It’s way cooler than Literature”, you smirked at him as he rolled his eyes behind his mask.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your favorite and why?”, he leaned back on his hands, watching as you sat in your thoughts for a few moments, contemplating an answer before lighting up in excitement.

“Oh! Definitely a Vase with irises against a yellow background.”

“Jesus, who the hell gave it that long name?”

You shoved his shoulder playfully before grabbing another fry from the small basket he’d brought with him. He often brought burgers and fries for the two of you to share while you caught up for the week. He was able to see you more frequently compared to when you first met a few months ago.

“Van Gogh did, and it’s a great work of art. It’s an impressionist painting. He did it while he was in the psych clinic. I think it’s actually one of the last paintings he ever did before he died. Anyway, I just really like it. The contrast makes it even more interesting to look at because blue and yellow are such bright happy colors and yet, you understand the emotion he felt. A lot of people think it symbolizes his desire to escape, leave the asylum and never look back.”

“Is that why you like it? Because he wanted to escape and never look back?”, you knew exactly why he asked, your heart tugging in your chest as you met his eye line.

“Yeah, I guess so.”, you confessed, “But, I’ve been wanting to escape a lot less recently.”

Robin smiled at you softly, your eyes staring at him with gratitude. He really had made Gotham worthwhile. He made everything worthwhile.

“Yeah, me too.”

“And this is our sitting room. I usually bring guests in to sit and share a drink while we talk over business, personal matters, or just anything life throws at us.”

You snapped back to reality at the sound of Calvi’s voice. You forced yourself to tuck away the thought of the past, focusing on the task at hand. He led you into the room, motioning at the butler inside to fetch some drinks. You sat down gently on the couch, watching as he grabbed the two glasses from the waiter and handed one to you.

“Our Finest red.”, he motioned as you took a sip of the wine.

It was rich, full and sweet. You didn’t know a red could be sweet and yet, here it was. It tasted magnificent.

"So, Vivian.”, he put his arm on the headrest behind you. “A penny for your thoughts?”

“Just wondering how you managed to get such a beautiful home, I’m feeling quite jealous.”, you smiled at him, sipping your glass once again.

“My family works in luxury goods, but after the passing of my parents I figured I could use my investments… differently.”

“Differently?”, you cocked an eyebrow.

“There is a whole other side to the Gotham business than you realize, my dear.”, he leaned in.

I realize more than you do asshole.

“Should I be worried?”, you leaned forward, gently placing a hand on his knee, his eyes flickering with pride.

“I’ll share so long as you can keep it a secret?”, Oh. He was dying to impress you. You could see it all over his body language. Calvi was a smart man, filthy rich, and even had questionable business practices. You needed to see if he truly played a hand in Gotham’s underground like Penguin’s intel had stated. If he did, getting him to partner with the Boss would be a lot easier than you thought.

“If it makes you feel better… I’ll share a secret first. Even the playing field.”, you ran your hand along his tie, fixing it to lay flat on his dress shirt and under the suit he had on. Your eyes met his dark ones as he watched you intently.

“Please share..”, his lips remained parted as he watched your movements, you could tell his heart was beating faster just by the looks of him.

You leaned forward, your face inches from his before you parted your lips, your mouth strategically close to his for effect. “I have a thing for men with a little… edge to them.” you whispered, recognizing the flicker in his eyes the moment you spoke. “You’ve reeled me in, can you get me hooked?”

“I can get you more than just hooked, baby.”, he moved towards you, “I’ll get you addicted.”

You lifted a hand, tracing his jaw slightly, your lips softly grazing his as you pushed him against the couch, throwing your legs over his as you sat up, melding your body close to his.

“So then, enlighten me.”

His hand landed on your thigh, his fingers squeezing a bit before he spoke, the tension growing by the second. “I have connections with the trades on the East side of Gotham. A few business partners help me invest my money where money never ends. I get protection, money, and reputation. All I do is invest and help them make shipments then I make more income than the majority of the people at Sapphire.”

Bingo. He confirmed what you needed to know. If he already had connections with the underground, who were they with?

“Sounds dangerous.”, you fed the bait slowly.

“It keeps money in my pockets, keeps the business alive. Gotham’s underground is a never ending flow of money”

You felt his hand trail up your thigh, the skin growing cold as he pushed your dress up slightly. His eyes tried to dig into yours, but your facade was bulletproof. No one could break you or make you show your true self. Calvi would never even come close to doing so.

The knock on the room door broke the moment much to your satisfaction. Calvi closed his eyes in annoyance, calling out for the guest to come in. Two tall men came in, dressed in all black and wearing a headset. You moved away from Calvi as he stood, walking over to the men as they talked in whispers with him. You committed every part of their appearance to memory, from the clothing they wore, the brand of the headset, to the miniscule scars they had that almost seemed like a branding symbol. You stowed it away in the capsule in your head to later jot down for future reference.

“Vivian.”Calvi turned towards you as you rose from the couch, fixing the small part of your dress that rose a centimeter. “I’m afraid something has come up that requires my attention. I’ll fetch a car for you but please, we need to finish our conversation next time.”

You looked up at him with innocence in your eyes, simply nodding before placing a soft kiss on his cheek, placing a gentle hand on his arm before you went down the corridor to the outside where the car waited for you. You had given your address to the driver and he dropped you off at your complex, leaving you to push through the doors and crash on the bed.

Once you hit the sheets you let out a sigh of relief. God, why was this so taxing? What information did this man have that was so important to Penguin when there were a hundred other men who had the same connections that the boss could do business with? The act of questioning the boss wasn’t an option though, so instead you continued with your assignment as normal.

The next few weeks proved to be normal, simple, barely any information of use. The whole job seemed lackluster, almost a waste of your time but you needed to convince Calvi to work with Penguin. It would be the biggest asset in getting your payout.

That was the goal for your upcoming visit after all.

2 Weeks Later

Entering the location Calvi had given you gave you an edge, it was a club. Mid-level. It was where all of the crooked men of Gotham came to dip into the pool of the underground. It also happened to be one of the investments that Calvi had on the East side. It was similar to the Lounge, though the clientele were more Upper Gotham trying to hide in the shadows.

You walked into the room with seductive confidence, your aura radiating pure lust, seduction, and darkness. You walked to the back of the club, feeling some of the men look at you as you passed by. They would always be enamored by you, all the brainless men in the underground were. They never knew who you were, never knew your name or your looks because you did good in presenting yourself entirely differently each time.

DIfferent hair, different makeup, different energy. Needless to say, they all fell for it every single time. Your dress hugged your figure, stopping mid thigh and carving out your curves to be more prominent, your long, dark hair falling down your back as you fixed your earrings that had dangling strands as you reapplied your dark red lipstick. Seduction was the game and you were the physical embodiment of the word.

You walked up to the red door down the hall, a tall bulky man standing in front of the door as he stared at your body, his eyes roaming and taking you in. You internally smirked at how easy men were to manipulate.

“I have a meeting with Calvi, my name is Vivian.”, you lied through your teeth as the guard grunted and walked inside the room, only to open the door for you a few moments later. “Thank you.”, your lips pulled into a perfect red smile as you walked by him, looking into the room and taking in your surroundings.

The room had a dark atmosphere but was lit by dim lights around the room. A couch in the middle of the room with two solo seating seats, a glass table in the middle with a glass bottle of what seemed like whiskey on the tray on top, two glasses complimenting the bottle. You took in the velvet colors on the furniture, the paintings on the walls adding nice accents as the door on the very end of the room opposite of the main door opened.

“Vivian.”, he smiled at the sight of you, a few men surrounding him as they played poker. They all looked familiar. Probably those men from Sapphire he played chess with. He placed a gentle hand on your back, leading you to the couch as the men watched you intently. “I’m glad you made it.” his suave voice rang out, deep but sophisticated, full of authority.

He had his dark hair slicked back, a dark suit fitted to his body that probably cost him a couple thousands of dollars, his bold gold watch wrapped around his wrist as he walked towards you adjusting his cuffs. He radiated a type of energy that would leave a normal woman at his feet, begging to be taken by him. Your eyes zeroed in on him, taking him in with your dark hues, letting the second round of the game begin.

“Thank you for inviting me, I’ve been looking forward to hearing from you again.”, you sat down as you looked up at him, your stare innocently seductive. He dropped a smile at you, one that could make anyone swoon after him, but you knew his background and you needed to play your cards right in order to convince this man fully.

You watched as he walked to the far side of the room, near the small bar area. “Any wine?”

“Château Lafite Rothschild, if you have it”,

“I love a woman with expensive taste.” he pulled out a bottle which left an impressive look on your face. “1998, it’s more aged.”

He poured your wine before pouring his own Whiskey into a glass and walking over to you, handing you the wine before sitting next to you. You opened your body up to him, not letting him take a hint of your body language being too closed off.

He turned his body to face you, his arm on the head of the couch and his leg crossed over his other. He exuded dominant energy even in a position of relaxation. You weren’t naive though, you knew he was always on guard, especially working with the criminals of Gotham on a regular basis. Anyone could call a hit on him, it made sense he didn’t let his guard down completely.

“I really appreciate aged wine, it’s more of a delicacy so it’s nice when someone actually has it around.”, you smiled at him, his eyes focused on you while you noticed his friends skimming your legs. God these men. So easy to manipulate.

“I wanted to ask about a painting, actually.”, you asked truthfully.

“Anything for you Vivian.”, his full focus was on you, before he motioned for his men to kick out his guests, all the men leaving in a file line as the music from the club slowly leaked into the backroom and his guards stood outside the door. The two of you now alone.

“I want to see how much it would cost to get a Monet in hand. One that has a good price on it.”, his eyes flickered with interest at the mention of the French artist. He had to know how to source one one way or another.

“Which painting are you wanting to inquire about?”

“I’ve wanted to own an authentic version of Le Bassin Aux Nymphéas.”, you said confidently, trying to gauge his interest.

“My dear, it's an $80 million painting.”

“I just.. Wanted to see how much it would take to get it. I have the funds to back up my inquiry.” you played with his tie, smoothing out the folds of his suit.

“I know it’s a difficult piece to acquire, I would need someone to endorse my interests and hold power over the transactional process. I couldn’t think of anyone better than you”, you slowly placed your hand on his chest, letting him soak in your touch. You felt the way his body reacted slightly to you, his heart skipping a beat. You looked into his eyes, seeing that same lustful emotion run through his body. You could see the tightening in his jaw, his hand clenching slightly on the couch.

You noticed the immediate intrigue in his expression. Even he knew the process of getting such a painting would be difficult, expensive and timely. He had a strong hand in the world of luxury goods, his entire business and company focused on the foreign trade of luxury goods and rare objects for high profile clients. This was just another job he would be able to make by pulling black market strings. Everyone in the real world knew Calvi as the charming, handsome CEO of a luxury goods company, but the underground knew him as a black market ring leader. What he made in the underground quadrupled in 6 months what he made in a year in his company. To say he was wealthy would be an understatement.

“What made you so interested in an $80 million painting?”

“I want it for my personal collection. I want it to be desired, taken care of, protected”, your voice flowed through your lips smoothly, your body leaning into Calvi’s as you played softly with his collar, your fingers tracing lines on his suit. Your eyes focused on his tie before meeting his eyes and seeing the absolute craze happening inside of him. His brown eyes stared at you with lust, desire, control, and you knew you were playing your game well.

“I want it to be treated, the way any timeless rarity, any delicate precious luxury should be treated.”, his hand found its way to your leg, rubbing soft circles on your skin as you played your cards. You stared at his lips, then flashed back up to his eyes, letting yourself soak into the moment, letting him slowly unravel underneath your spell. Calvi’s eyes focused on your eyes, then down to your lips, the bright color of your red lips slowly drawing him in.

“You know how to do that don’t you? How to take care of.. Precious delicacies?”, you whispered against his lips, almost pressing against yours as he breathed. You let your hand lay on his chest as the other landed on his hand on your leg. Checkmate.

“I know more than just simply taking care of them, my dear.”, he breathed as he closed the gap between the two of you, his lips savagely consuming you, your hand on his chest as he pushed you against the couch. His hand reached into your hair, tightening as he deepened the kiss, his tongue battling it out with yours as you felt his skin catch on fire. He had been wanting to devour you since you first met a month ago, and now, he was a mindless pawn in your game to get what you wanted. You played the part well, you knew it would be far too easy to get someone like him to fall to his knees for you. It only took a month, but it worked.

“Boss.”

Calvi pulled away, his hand still tangled in your hair as you opened your eyes and met his, his hues full of lust and need. Only after a second, he turned to his guard.

“What is it?”, his voice was filled with irritation.

“I hate to interrupt, but you have a visitor.”, the guard let out. “He’s here for business”

“Tell him to come back tomorrow”, Calvi turned to you again, his eyes taking in your swollen lips and dark eyes. Empty eyes but he didn’t need to know how void of emotion you were.

“Sir.”, the guard pressed before saying something that even you couldn’t ignore. “It’s the Red Hood.”

You felt your blood run cold, forcing yourself to remain calm at the mention of his name. You noticed how Calvi almost immediately snapped into attention. He looked at his guard, nodding and telling him to give him five minutes before bringing him in. He fixed his suit and his hair, wiping off the red stain that was on his lips as you fixed your hair and your dress.

“I didn’t know you had company.”, you said as you watched him. “I can come back another time.”

“Nonsense, my dear. It’ll be quick business, then we can get back to our… discussion about your inquiry on the Monet.”

As he finished, the door opened again, your eyes panned over to the other man standing at the door. A wall of pure, solid muscle covered completely in kevlar, daggers, and guns. A black motorcycle jacket on his upper half and dark combat boots, his bright red helmet making a statement as he entered. He completely flooded your senses with his intensity and dominance. You stared at him as he looked into the room, but you knew he was glaring daggers at you from under his helmet. When didn’t he completely despise anything you did?

“Red Hood. It’s a pleasure to have you here.” Calvi spoke confidently, his hand motioning towards the seat in front of the couch as he sat down next to you. You noticed the slits where his eyes should be narrow slightly no doubt recognizing what you and Calvi were doing. Your hair was a bit messy, and your lips were swollen. To anyone else they would have ignored it. But Red caught it immediately.

“What can I help you with?”

“I don’t mean to interrupt your… affairs, but I have an order to make”, Red’s deep, distorted voice rang out as he glared at Calvi’s hand slightly touching you from the top of the couch. Your eyes narrowed at him and even not being able to see his expression, you knew he was pissed. “I need 4 shipments of Fear Toxin and Miraclo, and two shipments holding AK47s, MFA1 Carbines, and M1928s.”

“When do you need your shipments?”

“Next week.”, Red stood with his arms crossed, staring at you then back at Calvi. You sent him looks filled with annoyance and frustration. You wanted nothing more than to be able to punch him in the jaw. “We have work that needs to be done.”

A subtle threat only meant for you.

What was he planning?

“It’ll be a tight schedule, but I’ll make sure it gets here in 3 days time. I’ll give you your total statement then to ensure payment is processed and received.”

“Good, now, get home Calvi.”, he ordered. You nearly scoffed at how you just witnessed the Red Hood give the king of the black market orders.

“Excuse me?”, Calvi questioned. “Get home? Are you my mother now?”

“No, but I am the guy keeping protection on your little operations, so if you want our contract to not be void, I suggest you listen. I won’t repeat myself twice.”

So Red was his contact. No wonder Calvi seemed well composed and confident in himself. Red was giving him all the protection he needed along with the pay for sourcing weapons for him. Foreign goods. Yeah, those militant weapons were foreign alright.

Calvi stared at him, letting the seconds pass and the tension grow, before standing and fixing his suit. “It’s a pleasure as always Hood. Vivian, let’s go, my dear.”

“The girl leaves. You won’t be needing her to help you get home.”

Calvi narrowed his eyes, your position still sitting on the couch. You felt your body fill with overwhelming anger, you wanted to kill the Red Hood more than anything but you couldn’t give up your facade of the calm, collected woman you were right now. You’d have to deal with him later.

“Vivian, I’ll get my driver to-”

“I’ll make sure she gets a ride.”, Red interrupted him. “I’ll have your guard get her a cab.”

Calvi clenched his teeth, his jaw flexing as you stood and walked over to him. You swayed your hips purposely to get a rise out of the masked vigilante, reaching your hands to touch Calvi’s face.

“I can get home. I look forward to continuing our discussion when we’re able to, okay?”, Calvi grunted in agreement before you gave him a kiss on the cheek, keeping your touch on him longer than you normally would just to get a rise out of the man burning holes into your back. You walked past Red Hood, walking out the door and getting in your cab. You were silent the entire way home, letting yourself bask in the anger eating you alive as you tried to calm down.

You entered your apartment angrily, throwing your clutch on the counter before shoving the heels off your feet.

Who did he think he was?!

God, you were on the right track, you have Calvi wrapped around your finger and of course, it’s him that Calvi has ties with. Now your entire plan was set back thanks to the infuriating red vermin.

You placed your hands on the counter, leaning forward as you stared at the ground. You needed to breathe. Relax. You could not let him get to you. Especially not like this.

Was this payback for the past month of you raiding his jobs? For making him lose all that money? He already wanted to kill you and you him, but why did him barging in on your jobs piss you off even more? You’d rather he just put the bullet in your head and call it a day than have to deal with the anger that flooded your veins every time you saw him.

“You really know how to play the part of seductress don’t you?”, that deep, distorted voice ripped you out of your focus. You felt the anger rise in you again. You turned to look at him, all 225 pounds of him, with his overwhelming presence, his annoying glare as he stared at your form. You were still wearing your dress, your hair still done and your makeup still flawless. And yet, the ugly side of you was about to come out and go head to head with this man.

“Get out of my apartment, Red.”, you bit out, the venom lacing your voice.

“What were you planning on doing? Seducing him?”, he pressed, his voice had an edge to it. “Were you going to reel him in? Get him under your spell so he would do you favors?”

“I said, get out!”, you turned to look at him, your eyes red with fury, your skin burning in irritation, and your heart pounding as you stood in front of him, looking up due to the obvious height difference. Red started to walk towards you, forcing you against the wall as he raised his arm to trap you against his muscular form and the brick. You wanted to fucking kill him.

“Were you going to let him have his way with you?”, he lowered his head, his voice deeper than it was before, the edge growing sharper. There was something dark in his voice, dangerous, full of instability. Your jaw clenched as you tried shoving him away, punching his chest as you shoved your face in his, the hate evident like you were an angered bull.

“Let him be taken by you? Let him touch you, use you, maybe even let him fuck you?”, You punched him again, shoving your hands into his chest as you pushed out of his grasp, snapping at him when he tried to touch you.

“Fucking leave me alone!” you yelled, your voice raw and your adrenaline pumping. You were certain you could kill him right now given the chance. You tried reaching for the gun in your bag, only to feel his hands stop you, pushing you against the table as he pressed his chest flush with your back, his face right next to your ear as he spoke in a dark tone.

“I know your little game, (Y/n). You can fool Calvi, seduce him, manipulate him, brainwash him. But I know. I know every little thing that you’re doing.”, he pressed his body against you, his leg separating your thighs, pressing against you. “You can’t fool me, sweetheart.”

“You son of a bitch..”, you felt on fire, struggling against him, pushing yourself back as he turned you around, forcing himself into your space. Your body was still wrapped in your dress, your breasts were practically on his chest, his arms trapping you as he overwhelmed your senses.

“Tell me, (Y/n), do you think he’d know how to take care of you?”, his voice got deeper, his hand grabbing your face so your eyes would meet his. His body pressed against you, the muscle of his legs causing your skin to heat. “Would he know the first thing about where to touch you?”, his leg pushed against your core, your body responding to his sudden movements. “Would he know how to fuck you?”.

Your eyes narrowed in hatred, absolute hate and fury. There was no hiding it, even he could see the absolute lack of control you had right now and you hated it. You hated him.

His voice was in your ear, his hand grabbing your waist as the other wrapped itself around your throat. “Would he be able to make you scream his name?”. God, he filled your senses and pushed you into overdrive. “Would he be able to absolutely fuck the sense out of you and make you his? Take every part of you and make you beg?” his voice dripped with conviction, repeating himself a final time. “Tell me sweetheart, do you think he’s the one to make you his?”

You couldn’t take the pressure building in between your thighs. You didn’t want to have this reaction to him, but your body had other plans, ones you couldn’t control or hide.

“Why are you so interested in my personal life, Red?”, you challenged. You needed to get your power back from him. “Do you think you’d be able to do even half of what you’re saying Calvi would do to me?”

“Sweetheart, if I had you, there wouldn’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind who you belonged to.”

You stared at him with heat in your eyes, you knew he could see how flustered you were but you didn’t want to give him more power than he already had. You suddenly felt his gloved hand on your neck, his fingers softly clutching your face.

“I don’t belong to anyone. Especially not you”, you bit out, your teeth clenched as he held your gaze.

“Keep telling yourself that, Sweetheart.”, he pushed himself away from you, heading towards the window. “Calvi works for me. He won’t be so naive to fall into your tricks.”

“Leave, Red.”, you forced out, your anger still consuming you. You watched as he climbed out the window and out into the night, your body still in overdrive from his touch.

Why did he leave you feeling this way?

How did he get you this riled up?

Why did he care about you going after Calvi?

And most importantly, what was his motive?

A/N: Here is chapter 3! Hope you guys enjoy it!

I have been sick the past week so I was able to edit and get this up for you guys. I love the reactions to this series so please leave all your comments and thoughts! I love reading them and look forward to hearing more from you guys.

Until Next Week xx.

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axeeglitter · 4 months ago

Text

The Silent Sentinel

Jason was bored out of his mind. This school trip was supposed to be about history, culture, and learning something useful—all things Jason didn’t find interesting. Castles, knights, and ancient ruins were about as exciting to him as a brick wall. No, what he really wanted was to find a way out of this place. Maybe hit the pub he’d seen just outside the castle walls, grab a couple of drinks, maybe flirt with some local girls, and hopefully end the night getting laid—that was Jason’s plan.

Jason had always been more of a sports guy rather than a book guy. For him, the most important thing was to have a good time and to make every minute worth living. As soon as he could walk, he started running after balls, climbing trees, and laughing all day long with his friends. Jason had always been a joy to be around, and people were always asking him to join in for a good time. His easy-going attitude and laid-back mentality made him the star of his class from kindergarten until now in college and as soon as he was old enough, he decided to get a tattoo to remind himself that life was short, a line going from his elbow to his wrist and ending as an arrow. At around 6ft 4, Jason was a mountain on the football field. The only thing bigger than his height was his natural aura of dominance, emphasized by his perfectly crafted body. But the thing that really made him the star of every conversation was his million-dollar smile, his curly, wavy blonde hair, and his deep blue eyes. Yes, Jason was truly a perfect specimen of a human being.

______________________________________________________________

“The armors you’ll see all around this place are the eternal protectors of this place. Each one of them are unique because they all belonged to different people and they wear the proofs of their identifications. According to the legend, the armors used to be living soldiers, but the king ruling in this castle couldn't accept his knights to run away, so he cursed the castle and its walls, transforming every soldier trying to run away before the end of their mission and duty into eternal protectors of this walls, and doing so, trapping them as the armors you'll see all around, protecting the place they tried to run away. But don’t worry, this is only some lore and the local explication to why there are so many armors in this place. In reality, this probably used to be some kind of refuge for knights as they were walking from town to town offering their help. Anyway, follow me, on your left you’ll find the grand hall…” said the guide as he kept walking, followed by Jason’s teachers and the other students.

As the tour group made its way deeper into the castle, Jason lagged behind, half listening to this nonsense the guide was talking about. He was getting further and further from the group while shooting quick glances at his friends that seemed really intrigued by this visit. He wasn’t about to stay stuck here listening to this old-looking man who probably hadn’t seen the light of day in years. This was a pure waste of time. Bricks, rocks, paintings, tapestries, a lot of old empty armor—what a shame to spend such a beautiful day stuck between these dusty walls. For Jason, it was enough. This had to end. But he knew he couldn’t just leave like that. Jason really had to pass this class, or he’d lose his scholarship.

As the guide entered the grand hall, full of the same tapestries and armors holding spears in their hands, it was the last straw for Jason.

“I’m done,” he muttered under his breath.

Out of nowhere, he took out his phone and pretended to answer a call in a hurry. He acted concerned and almost stressed, talking just loud enough for his friends to hear him.

“Yeah, okay… well, I can’t right now, I’m on a vi… okay, yeah, okay. I’m on my way!”

Jason hung up his phone and put it back in his pocket as his friends, still walking toward the room, looked at him.

“Is everything okay?” asked Jason’s best friend, Matt.

"Hey, yeah, I gotta go. An emergency came up, I need to get home ASAP. Catch you later.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, dude? You good?"

"Yeah, it’s no big deal. Just something I need to handle. I'll text you later."

Without waiting for a response, Jason slipped down a narrow hallway leading toward what he thought was the exit. His heart raced with excitement, not because of any thrill for exploration, but at the thought of escaping the dull history lesson for something more fun. The pub wasn’t far, just a short walk across the courtyard, and he’d be able to grab a drink, chat up a girl, and then go back to his room, where he’d have the rest of the day to relax, play some games, and invent an excuse if anyone asked. The day was finally about to begin!

As Jason moved through the castle, the twisting corridors began to confuse him. Every turn looked the same, and he realized with growing frustration that he had managed to get himself lost.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, pushing open another old, heavy door at the end of the hallway. The room was dimly lit and almost empty except for another rusty, old-looking suit of armor standing in the corner and an ancient-looking table in the center. Jason stepped inside, scanning the empty space, hoping to find an emergency door or an employee exit leading to the main courtyard.

“Another one… Ain't no way I'm staying there any longer. Done with this boring bullshit. Let me out!” he muttered, dropping his shoulders in frustration and exhaustion as he turned to leave the room.

But as Jason tried to leave, his feet wouldn’t move. His body stiffened, a strange sensation creeping up his legs. Jason glanced down, trying to see why his feet were stuck to the floor. That’s when he saw it. All around him, engraved in the stones and covered by centuries of dust and grime, a dim light began to shine through the dust. Lines of shimmering purple light started to appear, soon forming intricate glyph designs.

“What the…” Panic set in as Jason struggled to move, feeling his legs frozen in place. The glyphs on the floor glowed brighter, their light pulsing in rhythm with his quickening heartbeat. He tried to yank his feet free, but the more he struggled, the tighter the symbols’ grip became.

"No one leave before the end of their mission..." heard Jason in a faint murmuring voice echoing between the walls.

Before he could scream for help, Jason felt a weird sensation spreading through his lungs and body. He turned his head to see dust starting to float around him. First, it was only a grain of dust, then a second one, and soon, a swirling bubble of dust engulfed him in a thick tornado of fear. Jason thought it was the end, that he would die here, his body lost forever in this empty room. Closing his eyes for a brief moment to collect himself, he suddenly felt wind on his forearms. Jason opened his eyes in surprise—how could he feel the wind on his bare forearms when he was wearing a long-sleeve shirt and a coat? Wait, now it was his calves. What was happening?! Tilting his head, he saw through the thick cloud of magical dust that his clothes were turning into dust. Threads of fabric were ripping from him, swirling into the air before disintegrating.

Jason screamed for help, but no sound came out. Everything went silent, muted by the wind and glyphs. And suddenly, as Jason panicked, feeling his body exposed to the elements, the movement stopped. Everything stood still for a moment before exploding away from him. His clothes, now dust, scattered across the room, forever lost. Jason stood naked in the center of the room, the glyphs still glowing all around him. He tried to move, thinking it was over, but his feet were still frozen.

Then, a strange warmth spread from his groin, catching his breath. His hands shot down instinctively, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. His entire groin glowed with a faint purple hue, just like the floor beneath him. The warmth quickly turned into a searing heat surging through his lower body, the pain so intense it left him gasping.

Jason’s hands flew to his cock. He tried to hold it as an alien sensation began rising within him. It felt like it wanted to grow harder and harder, longer and longer. The feeling was both deeply arousing and weirdly terrifying. It was a pulsating force building inside him, and Jason was trying to resist it. But with one pulse from the glyphs, Jason felt his cock head push his fingers away. He saw it then—his cock elongating, hardening, then transforming, taking on another form and color. The familiar sensation of his manhood was replaced by something cold, metallic, and dangerous. He looked down in horror as he saw it shining between his fingers. His cock had stretched and turned into a massive sword, its shaft glinting in the dim light.

Jason’s mouth hung open, paralyzed with fear. His own flesh had turned into a sword. Just as he was about to scream in pure terror, he felt a new sensation beginning to spread in his nuts. His balls started to merge together. The pain was excruciating as the nerves intertwined and fused. Jason could have fainted from the intensity, but he remained conscious, trapped in the agony and his own powerlessness. Suddenly, his larger nut began to retract into the sack, which itself started to rise higher. Jason heard a pop, then a crack, and before he could catch his breath, he felt his hands gripping his balls as they began to harden and merge with the base of his cock sword. In an instant, his nuts had become the handle of his cock.

Jason was about to cry when the glyphs spasmed with power. His hands loosened slightly, just enough to let the sword fall and hit the ground with a loud metallic clang. His body convulsed, his knees nearly buckling from the impact as Jason realized he could still feel everything—the impact, the cold, grimy floor against his cock, and the vibration of the metal reverberating through his balls. It was as if his cock and balls, though transformed, were still part of him, still flesh in some twisted way.

He gasped in horror, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached down to grab the sword, desperate to reverse whatever had happened. But the moment his calloused hands touched the hilt, it was like squeezing his own nuts with a crushing grip. Pain surged through him, and he screamed out. Jason tried to release the hilt, but his fingers wouldn’t obey—they were frozen in place, gripping his balls tightly. It felt as though his body was no longer fully under his control.

Jason wanted to drop the sword, to escape the agony, but his body didn’t respond. Unbeknownst to him, this was only the beginning.

Jason tried to scream, but no sound escaped his throat. Behind him, he heard metallic noises, one after another. Then, all at once, a loud bang echoed, followed by the sound of sand flowing on an empty beach—the kind of sound that could be calming, but not in this moment.

Before his eyes, he saw shimmering tentacles of dust beginning to engulf his calves, then his arms, chest, and legs. It felt like something was embracing him. Oddly, it was almost soothing, and for a brief moment, Jason nearly forgot where he was. The sound and sensation were calming his torment. But a faint breeze brushing against the sword snapped him back to reality. When he resurfaced a few seconds later, he realized his body was constricted. He turned his head just in time to see the empty suit of armor in the corner of the room dissolving into dust, swirling around his head as a helmet formed and encased his face. Jason’s entire body was trapped inside the armor, locking him in place.

Jason looked down at himself in disbelief, his breath shallow and panicked as it echoed within the helmet. He could feel the cold metal against his bare skin. He tried to move, but nothing happened. He tried to scream, but no sound came from the helmet. The only part of him still under his control was his head.

Through the eyeholes of the helmet, Jason saw the purple light again. He understood it wasn’t over for him yet.

Suddenly, it felt like his feet were burning. The sensation spread up his legs, into his chest, arms, and finally his face and brain. The pain was unbearable, his vision blurred, and he thought he was being boiled alive. But just as Jason was about to pass out, he felt a pop in his bones, and a purple light began emanating from within the armor, glowing through his skin and bones. Jason screamed silently as light poured from his mouth. His eyes shut one last time as a tear of fear and pain rolled down his vanishing cheek. His body was disintegrating, turning into ash, dissolving bit by bit. His hands, his legs, his chest—all turned to dust, floating and falling within the armor before being absorbed by it.

Jason screamed in silence; his voice trapped within his mind as his body dissolved. He could still feel everything—his hands gripping the sword’s hilt, his feet on the cold stone floor, the weight of the armor pressing down on him—but he was no longer flesh and blood. He was nothing more than the armor now, a hollow, metal shell, yet still fully aware.

Jason tried to move, but he couldn’t. His body had become the armor, and there was no one left inside to control it.

As the glyphs continued to shine, Jason felt something being engraved onto the hilt of his sword. Beneath his armored fingers, a glyph appeared, etched into the metal. An intricate design started to form. A human silhouette started to appear in a standing position being encircled by what looked like a leaking sword centered in a shield with a castle on top of it. Then, as he thought it was over, a new engraving staring to appear on the lengths of his sword, centered between the two sharp sides. A line going from the hilt to the tip and ending as an arrow, a perfect mirror picture of the tattoo he used to have. When the engravings were complete, the glyphs shone brightly one last time before fading, leaving only the mark behind.

Jason felt his body moving of its own accord, walking back to the corner of the room where the armor had stood before he’d entered. Every movement his legs were taking, every breeze of wind on his naked metallic body, every bit of friction was sending shiver of orgasmic sensation in his sword. Jason would have cried and begged for cum and release if he had the chance. But nothing came, just frustration as another step was taken until he was where he belonged.

Jason took a standing position, gripping the sword even tighter, inadvertently squeezing his nuts harder. The tip of the sword scraped against the floor, sending a tingling sensation through his entire being that once again screamed for release.

Jason wanted to scream, to cum, to escape—but nothing happened. He was stuck there, waiting for the curse to be broken.

______________________________________________________________

Time passed—minutes, hours, Jason couldn’t tell. He was frozen in place, his thoughts racing, but his body immobile. The cursed room was silent, save for the occasional drip of water echoing in the distance. Then, suddenly, the door creaked open.

If Jason had still had a heart, it would have leaped. His friends—Mike and a few others—entered the room, laughing and chatting as they followed the tour guide. They seemed oblivious to the oppressive air of the chamber, their voices echoing off the walls.

Mike stepped forward, stopping in front of Jason’s armored form, unaware that he was staring at his best friend. He gazed up at the imposing figure.

“Whoa, check this out!” Mike called, drawing the others' attention. “This one look so epic. I wonder how old this armor is.”

Jason screamed inside his mind, desperate to be seen, to be saved, but his body remained as still as ever. The tour guide, unaware of the curse lingering in the room, droned on about the room’s history, speaking of old sorcery and forgotten rituals. But Jason’s friends didn’t care about what the guide was talking about—they were more interested in the armor and the sword.

“Dude, look at the sword!” Mike said, grinning. “This thing is massive. Bet it was for a fucking Captain knight or something.”

Jason’s entire being quaked in horror as Mike reached down and grabbed the sword—his sword, his penis. As Mike too hold of the hilt, he felt something weird. It was almost like it was warm to the touch, spasming with power, craving for touch and sensation. As Mike started to move back and forth moving the sword left and right, he swears he heard a faint murmur from the back of his mind, “Help me… feels, painf… good… don’t… stop.” Mike blinked a few times as he tried to understand if he was dreaming awake but his other friends called for him and the weird sensations vanished into the void as he laughed back playing a bit more with the sword. For Jason, the sensation was unbearable. It was like someone had taken hold of his most sensitive part, jerking and playing with it. Every time Mike moved the sword, Jason could feel it. The cold steel, the rough handling, the vertigo-inducing sensation of Mike squeezing his nuts while moving his cock left and right—it was all too real.

The group laughed and joked, unaware that every swing of the sword was torture for Jason. One of them even pretended to knight Mike with it, holding the blade up with mock seriousness.

Jason’s mind was a whirlwind of fear and humiliation. His friends—the people he had once trusted—were now unwittingly torturing him. Every time they touched the sword, he felt it deep in his core. His mind screamed for them to stop, but no one could hear his silent pleas as he watched them playing with his most intimate part, begging for someone to free him.

“Man, this sword is fucking epic,” Mike said with a laugh. “It’s so heavy. The knight who owned it must have been super strong. Like, I’m sure he was fighting and winning every fight!”

Jason could only wish it were true, that he could win this fight. But all he could do was endure, helpless in his new state, feeling everything happening but unable to do anything about it.

At one point, Mike joked, “I bet whoever owned this armor had to be a badass. You think they ever knew it’d end up stuck in a dusty old room like this?”

The words cut deep, and Jason’s mind spiraled into despair. Would he be trapped here forever? Would anyone ever know the truth? The laughter of his friends echoed in his mind; each taunt a dagger to his soul.

Eventually, the group grew tired of playing with the sword and returned it to its place, making sure the sword was held tight between the metallic fingers. As Mike finished positioning the fingers back in place, he noticed a strange engraving between the blades of the sword, it looked like a glyph leading to a line ending up as an arrow. As he blew on it, he swore he saw shimmering purple dust flow out of the engraving. He knew this symbol, but as his mind was about to put the pieces together, he heard someone calling for him. Mike got back up and started walking out of the room, forgetting about it after a couple of minutes. Jason stood there, holding his cock between his hands, feeling every faint movement and vibration of the walls and floor resonating in his empty armor body and cock as he kept screaming for help while hearing his friends entering a new room as the guide kept talking about the legends of this medieval castle he was now a part of.

______________________________________________________________

Hey guys!

I hope you enjoyed this new story. Let me know if you want to see more of Jason's journey. I have some ideas of where things could go for him, and no, it won't only be inanimate transformations if you want me to continue it.

As always, let me know what you thought of it, whether you enjoyed it or not, and if you have any ideas about what could happen next or where you want the story to go.

Also, I saw the results of the poll, and the story you voted for will be released really soon, so stay tuned.

Last but not least, I still have some slots left for free shorter stories based on your prompts. So feel free to send me messages or ask (anonymous is fine, don’t worry) if you have ideas you want me to write. It can be pretty much any theme you desire, but it's first come, first served.

In the meantime, have a nice day and see you soon! :)

#male transformation #my writing #mental change #male tf #reality change #tf #gay #inanimate transformation #inanimate tf #knight tf #sword tf #historical tf

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 9 months ago

Note

Scream week request!

Ethan Landry x fem!reader with prompt #2 (“Did you touch yourself to the thought of me?’’) please!!!

Thank you!!!

SCREAM WEEK 4/7

I got so many requests for this one!

Warnings: 18+, mention of masturbation

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

There was a leak at your apartment, so Chad kindly offered you to come stay at his and Ethan’s place until it was repaired. It was small for three people, but you made it work.

You set your suitcase down by the couch, tired of rolling it for the past twenty minutes through the busy subway. ‘’Thanks, again. I would have asked Tara, but she and Sam got into a fight and I don't want to be caught in the middle of it. You know how they get.’’

‘’I wouldn’t want to either,’’ Chad said, knowing the Carpenter sisters and their temper. ‘’The couch's not new, but I've fallen asleep on it many times and it's not too bad. I'll fetch you some blankets and pillows.’’

Your first two days living with the boys didn't go without awkward encounters. First, you walked in on Chad in the bathroom — thankfully, he was just shaving and had a towel on. Then, there was that one time you were looking through your suitcase for a specific shirt and Ethan tripped on one of your bras. You didn’t think it was that awkward — it’s just a bra —, but his cheeks went bright red, not used to seeing girls undergarments.

On the third day, that’s when the awkward level skyrocketed.

You were showering, but when you got out and reached for your towel, you realized you had forgotten it on the back of the couch... Making a naked run to get it was out of the question, so you had to call out through the door and ask someone to bring it to you.

Chad was busy in the kitchen, so Ethan brought it to you. You cracked the door slightly, just enough for the towel to be slipped through, but as he handed it over, his gaze inadvertently caught sight of your naked reflection in the bathroom mirror. You didn’t notice anything, just wanting to dry yourself and finish getting ready, but the incident sent blood rushing to his pants.

When you came out of the bathroom, Ethan’s door was closed. You thought he had already left, but you could hear muffled sounds and moans coming from inside.

A few minutes after Chad left, Ethan came out of his room. His shirt was different and his hair was a bit ruffled.

‘’You’re here,’’ he remarked, halting his steps, surprised to see you.

Sitting at the kitchen island, you hummed, knowing better than you speak with your mouth full.

‘’I thought you had a morning class?’’ Ethan said, taking a seat across from you and avoiding your eyes.

‘’Not until ten,’’ you explained, taking another spoonful of your smoothie bowl. Having Chad around to make you breakfast in the morning was something you would miss when returning to your apartment. ‘’Do you want some?’’ you asked, pointing at your bowl.

Ethan shook his head. ‘’Eh, no thanks. I’m not hungry.’’ He set his laptop on the island and turned it on. ‘’I need to re-write my business notes from yesterday. My laptop died, so I had to use good old paper and a pen...and my bad handwriting.’’

You finished eating in silence, scrolling on your phone to pass time. ‘’Ethan?’’

He hummed, his eyes not leaving his screen.

‘’Did you touch yourself thinking about me?’’ you asked bluntly, catching him off guard.

‘’W-what? No,’’ Ethan stammered, his cheeks and ears turning crimson. ‘’I would never…’’

‘’You can tell me if you were.’’ You purposely took your time licking the purple smoothie off your spoon, knowing he would sneak a glance at you when you wouldn’t be looking.

‘’I know. But I wasn't,’’ he replied hastily, mentally groaning when he caught your purple stained tongue.

‘’Then why were you saying my name?’’

—

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All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #scream #scream 6 #scream imagine #scream week

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months ago

Note

Lilia please impart some sage wisdom to Fellow like how Uncle Iroh gave advice to the one guy that tried to mug him in Ba Sing Se. He fr needs some guidance counseling

I wrote this one while running on like 4 hours of sleep so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense 🤡

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Fellow nearly leapt out of his own skin at the figure that descended, upside down, from a tree. They were short, with choppy bangs streaked with magenta, his irises the same bright color, his vest a neon green. But youthful as the student seemed, his voice was as ancient and as deep as a starry night sky.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Lilia drawled. “If it isn’t Fellow and young Gidel. It has been quite some time. How goes it? I certainly hope you boys have been behaving yourselves.”

"W-We've been just fine and dandy, I assure you!" Fellow instinctively took a step in front of Gidel. He provided the broadest smile he could muster in that moment. "And you've been in good spirits as well, I presume?"

"Oh, I'm fit as a fiddle, as you can see." The fae swung, righting himself and expertly landed beside Fellow. Gidel clapped, as if applauding a acrobatic performance, but stopped when Fellow shot him a withering look. "Now then, what brings you to our side of the island, hmm? Surely you're not simple tourists."

"Call it temporary residence."

"Temporary residence!" Lilia echoed, his eyes set glimmering like jewels. "My, that takes me back. I was a globe trotter back in my day too, you know. Lived the nomadic life, going wherever the wind took me."

Fellow stared at him as though he had just sprouted a third eye on his forehead. This guy's got a baby face, but he's talkin' like an old geezer... (If Lilia noticed, he wasn't bothered and continued, unfettered.)

"It's wonderful to meet new people and to experience new cultures," he said dreamily. "You learn so much, even from the humblest and most simple of folk. And such interesting stories they shared, kufufu. I’d like to depart on another trip, but I’m afraid school’s got me preoccupied.”

Fellow found himself frowning. He scanned Lilia up and down—the smart uniform, his high-waisted pants, shoes polished. Neat and sweet, likely another privileged kid vacationing on daddy’s dime.

When you’re poor, they call it trashy. When you’re rich, they call it ‘taking time off to discover yourself’.

“Must’ve been real nice for ya,” Fellow muttered under his breath. The brim of his top hat fell down, eclipsing his grimace. “You can choose to stay put or leave for a new place whenever you want. It’s not really an option for us.”

“Ah, but it’s not about the frequency of travel but what you gain from it.” Lilia lifted an index finger. “For example, did you know that sleeping with an uncovered mirror directly at you is bad feng shui in the Land of Crimson Long? They also have an awe-inspiring tale about a woman that took her father’s place in the military and saved the whole country.”

Gidel listened to him intently, ears perking up.

Lilia noticed, his mouth quirked. “Oh? I trust you’ve yet to visit. You should sometime, it’s a lovely place.”

“Maybe one day, though we never stay for too long. The locals, as you can probably imagine, always come to realize they aren’t fans of us.”

“If you opened your hearts to them, then surely…”

“We don’t have that luxury,” Fellow replied, a bit of ice to his words, “unlike you. The world isn’t that kind to us.”

Lilia quieted. His expression shifted, turning several shades more serious. “… Oh dear. I knew a man like you once. He was lost too. Angry, confused, despairing—and lashing out at the world and the people he believed had wronged him, denied him happiness.

“One day, while wandering in the darkness, he came upon a patch of moonlight. It lit the way and led him out of the thicket he had been trapped in for so long.”

That man was…

Lilia smiled softly.

“We cannot turn back time, but we can make the most of what we have left. If I may ask just one thing of you… live on. Look for that moonbeam in the night, that what brings you happiness. Protect it, treasure it, nurture it—so that it may, someday, see the sun.”

Lilia gave a gentle nudge to Gidel, causing the boy to stumble. He caught Fellow’s arm to balance himself.

“And if you can do that for one person, then it’s possible for you to do that for everyone. This world needs more love… not war.”

Fellow shook his head indignantly, but he supported Gidel by the back all the same. “I don’t get a lick of that. Love, war… whatever it is, it’s not my problem. We just gotta get by.”

“Someday, you’ll understand,” Lilia said with a terse laugh. “For now, I think you’re doing absolutely fine as you are. You’re the dynamic duo, never one without the other.”

Fellow smirked, his canines proudly protruding. “Hmph. You’re damn right we are.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Lilia Vanrouge #Gidel #Fellow Honest #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #a fellow in need is a friend indeed #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #Gino #Ernesto Foulworth

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phattiepheeder · 6 months ago

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I posted on Reddit but I’m curious about a Mukbang aftermath shit

I’ve been thinking about these creators that stuff for the camera, or do mukbangs and eat an astonishing amount of food. Or feedees who are constantly being fed and you see their swollen tight bellies after. These girls with huge bellies and probably an insane capacity to fill themselves eating 15 burgers or 20 burritos or 10lbs of spicy noodles.

But I never see any videos of the aftermath after taking in thousands of calories of dense and fattening and greasy food. Their bloated overpacked bowels struggling to empty in time so that they can continue to eat and digest the neverending onslaught of food. I just know they’re shitting a mountain, clogging toilets. Those that have gainer shake after gainer shake (read about a gainer who had 12 in a row through a funnel) must have the most explosive, sloppy , muddy shits. I can just imagine how their relief is short lived as they quickly refill their bellies. And their feeders must be hearing their loud frequent bathroom trips, already preparing their feeder’s next fattening gut wrecking meal.

I’m saying this because my ex-bf was a feeder and also into scat. Though I’ve lost all the weight for my health, during our relationship he helped me pack on 55lbs in 6months by stuffing me. I loved eating for him and he loved watching me take enormous shits after our feeding sessions, multiple times a day due to all the stuffing.

For those 6 months, my guts were being assaulted daily with thousands of calories. Some days he’s feed me so much, 10k calories. I’d shit 4-5x and still feel like I had more to unload, each time with a huge pile. Our plunger was working overtime so we ended up designating a bucket for me to empty into after feedings.

Sometimes after a heavy day of eating particularly greasy food, I’d empty a huge load of greasy sludge two or three times, and still my guts would be such a mess that I couldn’t leave our place without fear of having an accident. And they were the greasy kind of shits where they’d leave skid marks even after the powerful flush of a public toilet. My farts were often wet and we always needed to be close to a bathroom or have extra panties in the car. I’d just always feel like I had a stomach ache and either needed to fart or destroy a toilet.

The gainer shakes were the worst on my system. They were so yummy and made my ass get so plump and juicy , and my belly so doughy. Plus they’d go down easy when I was already stuffed. But they gave me such bad diarrhea I needed to bare down on my slop bucket with all my weight , hole spraying against the sides of the bucket. The pressure behind it was so intense that I’d get up with a circle of liquid in my ass..

For my gainer shake days, I’d sit my bare ass in the bucket while my ex fed me , knowing that shortly after I’d have to empty myself again anyways. Gainer shake in via funnel, and emptied half an hour later desperately in the same spot. I’d already have another wave of slop screaming at me for release, so as soon as I’d wipe, I’d already need to slap my fat ass back on the bucket and unleash.

Another thing we’d do is stuff me for a few days with the help of anti diarrhea meds until I was absolutely packed solid with shit. Then I’d take a stool softener to ease the turd out without ripping me in two and I’d relieve my hugely swollen gut. When my poor hole couldn’t stop desperately trying to get rid of all that waste, He’d have me on all fours with a trough in front of me and the bucket behind me so that I could refill myself as my puffy sore asshole kept sputtering wet farts and emptying. Then when my trough was empty and the bucket was full he’d refill my trough and empty the bucket and put them back in place. And it was always filled again.

Anyways, the relationship ended but it made me think of all of these feedees and if they shit as much as I used to. Or more.

#gassy #feedee belly #bubble guts #constipation #feedee piggy #bloatedtummy #clogged toilets

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antoncyng · 7 months ago

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౨ৎ. SUFFERED - h.sh

synopsis - dreaming about his presence started to hurt again, so it was time to finally watch the VHS.

genre / warning(s) - angst, mentions of death, somewhat based off of 20th century girl, vhs tape is different tho, flashbacks based in 1999

word count - 1.0k (first fic to hit 1k???)

author’s note - this fic is for @cupidhoons because this woman wanted her heartbroken so what better way than to make it about seunghan :33 love u liz! want to read m0re . . ? cl1ck here !

24 YEARS.

24 years was the length you’ve had to suffer without the love of your life by your side.

waking up from this dream was a nightmare, the more you tried to reach out and save him, the farther you would get. it was so hard to accept the fact he was gone, no matter how long it’s been.

the words spilling out of his bestfriend’s mouth still and always will break your heart, deny deny deny was all your mind could comprehend.

7.18.00 6:45 PM

“what do you mean? seunghan isn’t dead.. he’s on a family trip!” all the excuses you could think of spewed out of your mouth with tears running down your face.

“no.. no yn. he isn’t on a family trip, he never went on a family trip. just accept it, he isn’t with us anymore, how would it make sense to go on a family trip if his family came home? he died yn, he died after his surgery. it was guaranteed he would’t live for more than a month, so he did it himself. he left this for you.” sohee did the best he could keeping himself together as well, not wanting to make your situation worse.

he kept quiet and gave you a VHS tape, only to walk away soon after, it looked like he wanted to say something to you(?).

HOW could this be? it only felt like a few weeks ago that seunghan was by your side, holding your hand as you two walked along the beach together, laughing the night away together as the world blurred around the two of you. when you were together, everything just felt right.

now, it feels like nothing would feel right ever again.

6.11.24 4:37 AM

it felt so real. sweat coated your forehead and parts of your body, your breathing grew heavy by the minute, your eyes shot open with water growing in them.

you tried so so hard to reach out for seunghan, but it just looked like the more you stepped closer to him, the further he would walk away. your fingertips touched, and his body slowly started to fade away. all you could do was cry, trying to scream but nothing would come out as you watched seunghan step further into the distance with an emotional smile on his lips, you swore he had a tear running down his face. why did it feel so real?

it hurt, it hurt like someone had just ripped your heart out of your chest and walked away so emotionless. what was so scary or hard that he couldn’t tell you?

you got out of bed, walking towards your desk and opened the drawer, pulling out the VHS tape sohee gave you 24 years ago, you never pulled yourself enough to throw it away. slipping it into the player, the video started to play.

sitting back in your chair, you didn’t know what to expect. a song started playing, it rang in your ears like a shooting star of nostalgia.

“are you alright? how are you doing these days? are you crying again..”

you heard his singing voice call out to you, it brought you to tears.

“because i’m not there? we used to chat a lot, now i don’t see your fine face..”

he appeared on the screen, guitar in his hands as his face focused on the strings, the tears slipped out of your eyes. he’s still the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen, the most beautiful person you’ll ever meet.

the song stopped. a few clips of the beach you two always walked on together showed, there were clips of the places you loved to bring him to. you were shown clips of yourself falling asleep in an empty classroom, seunghan’s voice in the back.

“look at this girl, she told me she would stay behind during lunch to study..”

more clips were shown, memories were flooding your mind. then it cut to a scene on the beach, it seemed like the phone was set up.

and there he was again, your beautiful boy. just the sight of him on the old tv had your heart melting, he was just so pretty.

“hi yn. if you’re seeing this, you must be very angry with me.” he started off, chuckling dryly. “i recorded this before i went to the u.s. for my surgery, and you must already know the result. i’m sorry i can’t tell you, i would if i really could, but everything is too much for the both of us and i figured it would be better for your life in the future to figure out like this.”

he read off of a piece of paper like a script, clearing his throat as he was already getting emotional just from reading the next words. tears were already flowing out of your eyes, but you couldn’t stop watching the tape.

“i know living without each other is hard after sticking together for so long, i want you to know i truly love you so much, but there’s a reason that i could not tell you about the guaranteed result of my surgery. i don’t think i’ll tell you that now, maybe in another century?” he dryly laughs again, before looking back at the sunset behind him.

“its nice seeing this view again before i leave, i wish i could see it with you. you’re busy a lot but i understand that, i just wish i could spend just a few more hours with you.” his voice makes it obvious he’s starting to tear up, before turning back to the camera with teary eyes like he’s about to end the video.

“but don’t worry too much, i’ll make a pretty sunset and sunrise for you so you don’t have to suffer too much without me, how does that sound? i hope you’re saying good behind this screen..” he tries to cheer himself up with a smile, distracting you from the tears rolling down his face.

“i love you so much, i’ll see you again soon. don’t suffer too much, okay?” he says, waving with his sweet smile before the video ends and the old tv audio starts buzzing again.

but what seunghan will always know, is how much you already suffered without his presence.

🤍. ————————————

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL | antoncyng 061624

thank u for reading !! i hope u didn’t get too sad :pp ending is kinda bad because i’m bad at ending stories but whatever ><

perm taglist - @lcvclywon @jlheon @jwsdoll @ohmydollie @cupidhoons @junislqve @hyeinism @copyhanni @onlyjjong @seoktized (?)

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littleadaline · 7 months ago

Text

Mon rayon de Soleil [M.G38]

Reader is Marc’s sunshine

Warnings: noooooone

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I will be attempting to write this story using first person POV, so please please pretty please tell me if that is something you enjoy reading, or if you prefer the 3rd person POV.

————————————————————

Days off were my favourite. I always wanted to go out, see the beach, despite having seen it hundreds, if not, thousands of times. My ideal day off consisted of waking up early, packing sandwiches, and spending the day out. Marc, on the other hand, had a very different vision. His ideal day off consisted of staying in bed and ordering in, wether it was breakfast, lunch or supper. In order to make each other happy, we compromised. We would sleep in, pack some light snacks for the afternoon, spend the afternoon at the beach, and come back home in time to order supper. This morning, things were different. I was woken up by an alarm coming from my parents’ bedroom. Lazily opening my eyes, I took a quick glance at the clock on my phone, groaning as I read the time; 8:33 A.M. I sighed, exhausted from only having gotten 4 hours of sleep, blame social media. As I was getting up to get on with my day, I heard noises coming from the kitchen. I knew my dad was already off to work, and my brother was away for university, so I couldn’t identify the man’s voice coming from the kitchen.

“Do you think she’ll like this?” It was Marc’s voice. What was he doing in my kitchen at 8:33 on a Wednesday?

“I have told you a thousand times, yes. She goes crazy for those pickled peppers. Add that to calamari sandwiches and she’s on cloud nine.” My mom confirmed with him.

“I really want her to have a nice day. She’s told me how stressed she’s been with work and school. And she’s been really keen on trying that new spa that opened.”

“So what do you have planned for her today then?”

“Bocadillos by the beach, some ice cream, by the beach again,” he grinned, “And a pamper session to finish the day. Should I… should I go wake her up?”

The floor creaked as I leaned into the doorway. My mom’s gaze diverted back to me, Marc still clueless about my presence.

“No need to wake her up.” She chuckled as Marc’s gaze found my figure standing in the doorway.

“Good morning nena, how’d you sleep?” He leaned in to kiss my forehead.

“Morning amor. I slept well, thank you.” I left a kiss on his cheek, my hand resting on his abdomen. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation. We’re going to the beach?” I asked, walking over to the sink for a glass of water.

“Yeah, I got us some sandwiches and pickled peppers, courtesy of that sandwich shop you never seem to shut up about.” He playfully rolled his eyes. I chuckled, admiring the sight in front of you. Marc, with his eyes still full of sleep, yet so full of life; the way his dimples creased whenever he laughed, or so simply spoke. Every moment spent with him, I would fall deeper in love with the beauty of his personality and the way his eyes shone whenever I was in the room.

“And later in the afternoon, we’re gonna grab ice cream. Fermín and Gavi went there recently and they have not been able to shut up about it. Half the team now wants to go there.” He broke in a fit of laughter. “And to end the night on a sweet note, a massage session at that new spa place you have been raving about.” He pulled me into a hug, his abdomen pressing against my back. I could drown in moments like these. The simplicity of our relationship, the innocence of our love breathed life into our couple every day.

“There’s yogurt in the fridge if you want to grab a light snack before heading out. I should be done changing in 15 minutes.” I pecked him on the lips before leaving the kitchen.

Marc sat down at the dining table, making sure the backpack he had packed for the trip had all the essentials.

“Sunscreen, mosquito spray, bandages, snacks…” He was counting under his breath when I emerged back into the living room, having traded my pj’s for a pair of linen pants, one of Marc’s t-shirts that he had accidentally thrown into the dryer, and my sandals. I had my tote bag on my shoulder, bucket hat in hand.

“Ready to go amor?” I asked him, my hands resting on his forearm.

“Let’s go!” He kissed my cheek, grabbing my hand. We both waved goodbye at my mom as we left the house. Lucky for us, the beach wasn’t too far away from my house. After having lived in this neighbourhood my entire life, I learned new pathways to access the beach that would shield us from tourists or in this case… fans.

When we made it to the beach, the sun was shinning bright, pulling a groan from me. This did not go unnoticed by Marc, who dropped his backpack into the sand, yelling;

“Stay here! I’ll see if I can find us a spot in the shade!”

I sat down, my toes digging in the sand. I always liked this spot. When I was younger, my family and I used to spend our days out there, bringing a backpack filled with snacks and sandwiches and enjoying the weather from dawn until sunset. I heard Marc’s voice calling me as he waved me over.

“I found us a spot! It’s under a tree, so it’s got all the shade in the world!” He said excitedly.

Marc was referring to the ‘Forever Tree’. Back in the days, there used to be a rumour running around regarding the Forever Tree. Over the course of generations, couple who had sat down under the tree were known to be bound forever, their union only ever separated by death. But as time went on, the tree lost its popularity, leaving only a few locals to know about its ‘magic’.

“Do you want to start by going for a swim or eating?” Marc asked me as he laid down his towel on the ground.

“A swim would be nice. The heat’s killing me.” I chuckled as I took off my (Marc’s shirt), my pants following soon.

“Race you to the water?” Marc flashed me his killer smile before taking off in a sprint.

“Not fair! You’re the athlete, not me!” I yelled before running into the water, jumping into his arms. Marc caught me, surprised, before putting me back down on my feet, his hand never leaving my back. I could stay in this moment forever. Marc and I, in the water, chest flush against one another. The sun gently caressing our skin, prickling us with its rays. If I had one more moment to live, I would choose to spend it like this.

Marc’s movement pulled me out of my thoughts. His hand was now resting on my head, his fingers slightly brushing through my curls. He breathed in, his chest slowly rising against mine. His skin smelled of sunscreen, his perfume and my body mist, a combination of smells that symbolized home to me.

“I’m getting cold, I’m gonna lay down on my towels and enjoy some sun.” I let go of his hand, slowly emerging out of the sea. I could feel the sand clinging to my feet as I walked back to my towel. The sand was warm under my feet, the temperature slowly warming me up.

As I was setting up my towel in a warmer spot, Marc’s voice called out from the water.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to eat the sandwiches now?” I nodded yes as I chuckled. This guy was always thinking about food. Marc ran up to me, water dripping from his shorts and hair, before sitting down on my towel, his hand wrapping around my waist. I bent down to pick up a sandwich from the cooler before handing it to Marc.

“I hope they’re still fresh.” Marc said, biting into his sandwich. His eyes rolled back as he moaned in delight. “That is so fucking good.” He said, his mouth still full. “I need that recipe, one way or another.”

I laughed at his reaction, now taking a bite of my sandwich. Marc was right, these sandwiches were delicious.

“Holy- You’re right, we really do need the recipe. I could eat these day and night.”

We sat down in silence, basking in the sound of our sandwich wrappers and our delighted moans. Once we finished eating, Marc threw the wrappers away before sitting back down on the towel, pulling me closer to his chest.

“Alright princesa, spa next or ice cream next?”

“Mhh… The spa would be nice. Some mud mask would do wonders for our skin.”

Another hour went by before we started packing our stuff, making our way back to the house to get changed and head for the spa.

“Y/N? Are you ready to go?” Marc yelled out from the front door.

“Almost. I can’t find my wallet. Marc? Could you please start the car?”

I heard the door close and the garage door open. I found my wallet buried under my notebooks, on my desk. Sighing in relief, I grabbed my wallet and purse before exiting the house. A honk coming from the street caught my attention. I climbed in the car and Marc immediately drove off, catching me off guard.

“Hey there, you’re not a race car driver, Marc.” He laughed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He apologized, flashing me his lethal smile.

We arrived 15 minutes later to the spa, Marc pulling into the parking lot with a relieved smile.

“Doesn’t seem like a lot of people are here.”

Although Marc had progressed to sometimes playing with the first team, Marc’s family and I saw firsthand how fame had affected him. It wasn’t the fame per say, but the lack of privacy, the tabloids and being put on a pedestal by some fans, when he was simply an 18 year old kid with dreams and a bright future. I knew the smile of relief on Marc’s face wasn’t from the fact that we had finally made it to the spa, but rather, the decreased chances of being recognized in public.

“Marc…” I said as he turned off the car’s ignition.

“Mh?” He stopped in his tracks.

“Let’s skip the spa.” I blurted out, avoiding eye contact.

Marc shifted back into his seat to look at me.

“What do you mean? I thought you wanted to come here?” He sat back down in his seat.

“I did and I do, but I would much rather do something with you where you don’t constantly have to look out for a crowd or fans. Seeing how relieved you were when you realized there weren’t a lot of cars in the parking lot made me realize you wouldn’t be able to relax. You wouldn’t have enjoyed this outing, and neither would I.”

“So what do we do now?” He took my hand in his, his thumb brushing over.

“Let’s go home, put on a movie and do some sheet face masks. We can still get ice cream in the evening.” I pecked him on the lips, my hand finding the nape of his hair.

“Alright, princesa. But I pick the movie this time.” He jokingly pouted.

The drive back home was calmer, the sun blessing us with its golden rays. I closed my eyes, the smooth roar of the engine lulling me to a near state of sleep. I could smell Marc’s perfume travel around the car every time he looked over at my still figure.

“Keep your eyes on the road, cabrón. We have a movie to watch and ice cream to eat. It would be a shame to die because you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me.” I teased him, my eyes half open. I heard Marc laugh and shake his head before I closed back my eyes. Marc finally pulled into my driveway and slightly nudged me awake.

“I’m awake!” I yawned. Marc turned off the engine before sliding out of his seat and running to the passenger door.

“M’lady.” He opened the door for me, his hand extending to mine.

We made it back to the front door, walking in to find the house empty and dark.

“I’ll grab the face masks and blankets. You can pick the movie in the meantime. Popcorn?” I asked him, standing in the bathroom doorway.

“I can do popcorn. I’ll grab us some water.” I grabbed the face masks from my not-so-secret stash and the blankets from the bathroom closet. Marc already had the popcorn in a bowl.

“So,” I said, throwing a blanket at him. ”What are we watching?” I scooched closer to him, my head resting on his shoulder.

“Grown Ups.”

Marc turned on the movie and snaked his arm around my shoulder, forcing me to be flush against him. We stayed in the moment, erupting in laughter every now and then, our bodies pressed against each other, the feeling being more than familiar to us. My hand found his index finger, grabbing it gently. Marc let me.

Neither of us liked to admit it, but this simple action brought us both comfort. The thought of knowing that we had each other, we could rely on one another. Maybe I was looking too far into the future, but the only thing on my mind was to continue these little traditions with Marc as my husband; Marc as the father of our children.

As the credits rolled, Marc nudged me awake.

“Falling asleep again, mhh?” He teased me. “Let’s skip the ice cream. I’ll pick you up tomorrow after training.”

“What? No, Marc, I feel awful. We already skipped out on the spa, the ice cream was the easy part.”

“Hey, the ice cream will still be there tomorrow. We’ll go shopping after training and grab some ice cream on the way home. Deal?” He reached to peel off my face mask.

“Deal.” I whispered, feeling his gaze burn through my skin. My cheeks were heating up.

“That mask did wonders. You’re glowing. Like a ray of sunshine.” He kissed my forehead.

“I’m your ray of sunshine.” I smiled at him, fighting a yawn.

“That… you are.” He pecked my lips before scooping me up and carrying me to the bedroom.

He laid me down on my side of the bed before sliding under the covers, his arms finding my abdomen. I laid my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slowly slow down.

“Good night, sunshine.” He kissed my temple.

“Good night my love.” I kissed his hand.

Marc’s breath slowed down as he fell asleep, his grip loosening on my waist. I nuzzled myself in between his arms, finding comfort in the warmth of his body.

That’s what I loved about our relationship. We adapted to one another, we went with the flow. We found time to show up for each other, despite our busy schedules and the difference in our worlds. Marc brought warmth in my life, stability, amongst the journey that was… being a teenager. And I was eternally thankful for that night we met.

#marc guiu x reader #marc guiu imagine #marc guiu #fc barcelona #barca #barcelona #march guiu one shot #pablo gavi #pedri #gavi #fermin lopez #ferran torres #littleadaline

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contlis12 · 1 year ago

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death/dark feederism story

Coles cheeks burned with arousal and embarrassment as Ronnie followed behind him through the Walmart parking lot. It had been over 4 years since he had been anywhere near his old town and being back here 300 pounds fatter than he was the last time was like some kind of fantasy and embarrassing nightmare rolled into one. It didn’t help that Ronnie had put on a great show for his old work place. Ronnie and Cole had been in a relationship for over 4 years and theres was definitely not the typical one. Cole was Ronnie’s feedee. They were monogamous, lived together, and were in a committed relationship but they were not a “couple”. The relationship dynamic was too skewed for Cole to be considered his boyfriend in Ronnie’s opinion. He was his feedee, his piggy and his property. They had first met on an extreme gaining forum centered around death feederism and hit it off instantly. Cole moved half way across the country and became Ronnie’s live in feedee spending all day under his feeders care and had blown up from a already hefty 280 pound stoner nerd to a nearly 600 pound wheezing hog that was on the verge of immobility.

Ronnie had decided to celebrate the upcoming milestone with something special. “I want to take you back to your home town piggy, I want people who used to know you to not even recognize you. I want to live out all those fap fantasies you had in the bedroom with me.” Cole was nervous, as hot as the idea of public humiliation was he also dreaded the idea of an old friend seeing him in his current state but it didn’t change the fact he was immensely turned on by the idea and was helpless to serving his feeder. He had been conditioned to be a good piggy.

When they first arrived in town Ronnie had went straight to Walmart, Coles last job before he had left town. Normally Cole would use a walker to go anywhere but Ronnie made him struggle from the handicap van spot in front of the doors to the entrance where he had parked one of the stores mobility scooters and the probably no more than 30 foot walk had Cole pouring sweat and hyperventilating. Ronnie had been sure to dress him in the tightest smallest tank top and sweat shorts Cole had that showed off his melted ice cream cone figure as much as possible. Amazingly nobody in the store did recognize Cole but he was a spectacle none the less. Ronnie had been sure to load Coles mobility scooters basket up with the most fattening treats on the shelf. At one point Ronnie had stopped in the aisle and cracked a two liter of rootbeer and unwrapped two snack cakes “baby you don’t look so good, here eat these to feel better. You need some food in you”. A few aisles later and a few more suggested snack cakes and Cole had polished off the whole two liter and family sized box of chocolate covered Twinkie’s. The whole trip through the store was mortifying to Cole but amazing aswell. The feeling of submission to his feeder was intoxicating, he felt like a helpless fat pet and loved it.

When they were back in the van Ronnie had a final destination in mind before they left town. They had hit up multiple fast food joints, Ronnie wanted a spread that would look outrageous and eye catching. Before they had gotten out of the van and loaded Cole in his bariatric wheelchair they kept in the back for any sort of travel further than across a buffet parking lot Ronnie had rolled up Coles tank top and tucked it under his moobs fashioning it into a belly shirt. He pulled his sagging gut out of his shorts and let if flop heavily over the waist band of Coles way too small sweat shorts “comfy piggy? Get that belly ready because I’m going to stuff you hard. Everyone is going to watch you swell up like a blimp for me”. Cole was too nervous and excited to say much besides “ok” sheepishly as he felt his stomach pool across his lap and the warm summer breeze on his exposed stretch mark covered gut. Ronnie wheeled Cole to a pavilion in the middle of the park, people were around walking their dogs and playing in the park but nobody has really seemed to notice the two of them. Leaving him at the table with a couple bags of McDonalds and Burger King Ronnie gave him a firm smack and jiggle on his stomach before deeply kissing him “okay piggy I’m going to get the rest of the food from the van and we will start in a minute” as Ronnie walked away Cole looked down almost appearing naked in his vision past the rolled up tank top seeing nothing but wheel chair and pale stretch marked cellulite.

“Cole?!” as soon as he heard it his already food filled stomach dropped “oh my god, is that you?” He closed his eyes for a moment trying to become invisible “it is you!” He opened his eyes in time to see two women appear from around the side of the chair into view and Cole recognized one of them immediately. It was a very short term girlfriend from high school named Bree. Cole was speechless for a moment before finally simply saying “uhh hi”. Bree and the girl both stood staring wide eyed barley even trying to hide their disgust and amusement. “What happened to you? I wouldn’t have even recognized you if I didn’t remember your tattoo!” She said not even beating around the bush “are you okay? I knew you were a bit heavy before but you look ready to pop now!”. Cole stammered for a response “uhh yeah I put on a lot of weight, I had a medical” but was cut off as Ronnie walked up and introduced himself.

“Well hello, do you guys know Cole?” He said as he walked over and placed the other bags of fast food before putting a hand on Coles shoulder. “Yeah I was friends back in high school with him but I hadn’t seen him since then, hardly recognized him.” She said still grinning and looking in pure amazement at how fat Cole was. “Oh yeah Cole has put on alot of weight, I hardly recognize old photos of him when we first got together. He really blew up” Ronnie said reaching down and squeezing a fat roll on his stomach. “Oh are you his boyfriend? I didn’t know he was gay” Bree said looking at all the food on the table. “Oh no I’m his feeder” Ronnie said proudly as Cole felt his cheeks turning red. “His what?” Bree said laughing. Ronnie grinned looking at his piggy trapped like a fat whale as they talked about him like live stock “his feeder, it’s a fetish that is about weight gain. He’s a submissive to me and I make him fatter. I’ve put almost 300 pounds on him and we are trying to get him as fat as possible.” Ronnie grinned looking at their amazement. “Wow, I don’t really know what to say to that” Bree said wide mouthed at the sight before her. Ronnie just smiled back at her “well if you guys are done catching up he needs to eat” before going back to Cole “Okay piggy you hungry? Because I’m going to stuff you until you are ready to pop baby”. Bree and her friend laughed and jeered as Ronnie stuffed burger after burger into his piggy.

Looking up Cole seen them snapping pictures and taking cell phone videos knowing this would be all over their Facebook pages for everyone in his hometown to see. “Feed me make me so huge I break my wheel chair!” Cole moaned “I need to grow for you!” Cole let out wild snort and swallowed the food as fast as he could as he felt more dominated than he ever had before and he loved it. “I hope he has to bring me in a bariatric bed to the park next year” Cole thought as more messy gobs of burger and mayonnaise were shoved into his bulging cheeks.

#death feedee #death feederism #extreme feederism #death feedist #death feeder #dark feederism

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wardenparker · 9 days ago

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In the Still of the Night, ch 6

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 5.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Brief mention of assumptions made about the homeless, family death. Summary: Things have been going so well, that of course life finds a way to interrupt bliss. Notes: We seem to have hit the drama button this week. As always, I apologize for an errors I may have missed, and gif is for vibes not physical representation of characters. Hope you enjoy 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

It’s still astounding to Zach how much shit he has acquired since getting on the cruise ship. He’s spent so much time living in sea bags when he was in the Marines and then out of that same bag when he was homeless, it’s fucking surprising to have to make multiple trips to move his stuff from the cabin that he shares with Shane to the brand new soulmate suite he will share with you. “Fuck.” He hisses, nearly dropping a little trinket he had picked up in Athens.

“Careful.” Shane warns needlessly, lugging in the last box with both arms. This one is books and Zach likes thick hardcovers from street markets.

“Why didn’t you tell me I had too much shit?” Zach grumbles, even though it’s not Shane’s place to say anything. He never takes up too much space in their shared cabin and always keeps his side neat.

“Why the hell would I do that?” His now former roommate huffs. The fact is, Shane never wanted Zach to feel bad about a single damn thing he owned. Not when he had gone so long with so little. “Memories are fuckin’ important, Wellison.”

“Yeah.” He feels a little embarrassed though, that’s a lot of money compiled into that box. Money he could have been saving or using on necessities.

“Stop.” Shane huffs as he stands up again. “I know it’s—it makes you feel guilty. Like every single penny needs to get saved for a rainy day.” He had felt that way too, after getting out of prison and making it through a halfway house. He’d spent a year or so squatting and saving until he finally found steady work that didn’t ask too many questions. There are a lot of similar memories still working their way through Zach’s mind as he navigates the next stage of his life. “What are you saving it for if not to live? To have a life?”

One of the things that he loves and hates about Shane is his ability to read Zach easily. He guesses it’s easier since he’s walked the same path he has and can relate more than anyone else they know. It’s also comforting to know that Zach could possibly be as well adjusted as Shane one day. “You’re right.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Damnit.”

"You okay, baby?" The first thing you hear from the doorway of the suite when you arrive with your arms full of garment bags is Zach swearing, and your brow furrows.

“Yeah!” Zach pops his head up from where he was trying to fit the trunk into the tight space and slams his head on the desk above. “Ow! Fuck!”

"Babe!" You flinch when he swears again, mostly because it comes with hitting his head, and immediately drop what you were carrying onto the nearest piece of furniture. "Take it easy, honey. It doesn't all have to get done instantly."

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He groans, rubbing his head as he straightens up. “Thought I would have everything squared away.”

"There's no hurry," you remind him gently, checking his head for a bump and thankfully finding none. "Hi. It's been like four hours since I saw you last. Way too many."

“Hi.” He smiles even though his head still hurts, happy to see you. “It was too long.”

"Way too long." In fact, it's been long enough for your heart to start hammering just from being around him again, so you have absolutely no shame in going to wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.

He leans into your touch like he seems to always do. Basking in the simple intimacy that some might take for granted, but not him. “I’ve got all my stuff.” He tells you. “What else do you need to bring?”

“I’ve got one more trip to make.” You tell him, happily bundled into his arms. “I brought some stuff over this morning before bingo.”

“I can help you.” He promises. “I don’t have to be at the club for another hour to start prep.” He knows that he can have his staff do all the prep, but he doesn’t like to do that. It makes him feel guilty, like he’s not earning his paycheck.

“Are you sure?” Searching his face, you but your lip and frown. On the one hand? You’re not going to give up the help, but in the other you don’t want to make him feel like a packhorse.

“Of course I want to help you.” He would be offended, but you had confided that beyond a few friends like Shane, you hadn’t found many people who were willing to exert any extra time or energy when you needed help. Even though you had constantly helped anyone who needed it. “We can make quick work of it together.” He promises, flashing you a reassuring smile.

The instinct to push back and refuse is there, but you know that with Zach it isn’t necessary. Or at least, he had promised you it wasn’t and you have to remind yourself that he has no reason to lie to you. “Thank you, baby,” you murmur instead, dropping a kiss in the corner of his mouth. “It’s just one more trip.”

“Then we will get it all settled.” He loves that you are letting him help and he wraps his arms around you. “So let’s go before I want to drag you over to our new Queen sized bed to try it out.”

“That big bed is going to make such a difference.” And you won’t apologize for a second about sprawling out over him, either.

“Need me to stay?” Shane asks, smirking as if he knows the answer.

“We got it.” You promise him, tucked into Zach’s side. “Go call Diana and tell her that I said hi.”

“He’s going to be happy to have his room all to himself.” Zach chuckles. “I bet their sex talk increases.”

“Guaranteed.” The two of you close the door to your new suite behind you and head back toward your old room for the last of your things. “Ten bucks says he’s halfway back to your old room already for sex.”

“No doubt.” He snorts and knows that he would do the same thing in the other man’s shoes. “But enough about him.” He purrs playfully. “The sooner we get your stuff back here; the sooner we can have our own alone time.”

“Do we have time for a little homecoming before work tonight?” You wink for full effect, already giggling at your own joke.

“Hmmmmmm.” Zach pretended to contemplate it, grinning back at you. “I think it’s necessary at this point.”

Nudging him along the hall, you end up slipping right past him to practically pull him along. "Then why are you walking so slow, Wellison?"

His laughter follows behind you, a light, happy sound as his footsteps speed up to match yours.

The last trip is a few bags of every day items like your cosmetics, jewelry, and hair things, along with bathroom products. It’s nice to have a hand, and River takes it as a last chance to tease Zach about ‘taking you off her hands’. All the teasing in the world doesn’t make her hug you any less though, and you promise her one time that not being roommates anymore doesn’t mean a damn thing for your friendship. It just means hanging out will be even more special now.

“You’ve got a lot of jewelry.” Zach is uneasy holding the bag that seemingly holds hundreds of earrings and necklaces as you both walk back to your new home. A throw over from times where he would and could be accused of stealing a stick of gum. He keeps his hands where you can see them, even if it’s completely ridiculous, considering he is living with you and will be alone in your shared space with this stuff eventually.

“I like thrift shops.” Walking side by side, you lug your bags of cosmetics and bath things down the hall with a anime. “You can always find vintage stuff pretty cheap. A dollar or two for a pair of earrings I can wear on stage, ya know? Sometimes you can even find sets.”

“A couple of dollars?” He frowns slightly. “It’s…costume jewelry?” He asks incredulously. All of your outfits and accessories look extremely expensive.

“I mean…there might be a piece or two that’s worth something because some grandkid didn’t bother to have granny’s jewelry box valued after she died, but yeah.” You shrug, always having been more practical through your life out of necessity. “It’s pretty much all paste stone and glass. Looks pretty, though.”

His shoulders relax significantly and he nods. “Though I think you deserve real jewelry.” He frowns slightly, wondering how much something gorgeous for you would cost him.

“Maybe one day.” In an effort to make him smile, you nudge him with your elbow as you turn down another hallway together. “I’d wear a gum wrapper as long as you were the one who gave it to me.”

"I'll do better than a gum wrapper." He scoffs, but his lips pull up and his eyes are soft as he looks over at you. "That I can promise you." He'll buy you the very best ring he could find.

"My point is that the emotional weight of a gift means more than the price tag." It's something you've talked about just a little, the fact that you're both realistically broke when you're not living on the ship. "As long as it's something that made you think of me, I don't care what it costs."

“Hell, everything makes me think of you.” Zach grins and winks at you. “Hurry up and I’ll show you what I’m thinking right now.”

“Naughty.” The scandalized tone in your voice is just for show, and you pick up the pace considerably, practically racing him back down the hall to your new suite.

******

Both of you show up to work with incredibly smug smirks and a small skip to your steps. Zach rushes into the kitchen, technically late by thirty-five seconds but he couldn’t resist that one last kiss with you.

"Oh my god." Zach's sous chef and saucier are smirking right by the doorway when he walks into the kitchen. Both holding up their watches. "For the first time ever — Chef is only on time instead of early."

He couldn’t look stern even if he tried. Just too buoyed by happiness with you and the fact that you are just as giddy as he is. One day maybe the feeling will settle, but for now it’s butterflies and feeling lighter than a cloud. “Yeah, yeah.” He huffs, waving them off. “I know you have work. I might be on time but everything’s already outlined.”

"Oh, we were early today." His sous chef flashes him a grin. "We only stopped to wonder if you were actually going to be late."

“We were moving cabins.” He defends half-heartedly. He still can’t shake the grin on his face, so he knows they know that excuse is complete bullshit. “Get back to work.” He huffs, shooing them away.

“Any changes tonight? Last minute specials?” Zach’s team asks gently. They aren’t stupid. They know he’s been catering his specials to what the boss’s new girlfriend likes best. And if it weren’t so damn sweet, they might be annoyed about it.

He grins and shakes his head. “Nothing tonight, except I want to add a cherry cognac sauce to the chocolate cake.” He admits. “I appreciate you working with me on the unusual menu changes. You all have adapted admirably.”

“Keeps things interesting, chef.” His sous chef tells him, with a knowing grin. “But at this point we’re gonna be offended if we don’t get to cook your wedding dinner since we know what she loves already.”

"I couldn't imagine any other staff I would trust." Zach admits. Being in the trenches of the kitchen with this group had taught him how fucking talented most of the cooks on a ship where. Not only did they turn out the 'regular' foods served in the buffet for breakfast and lunch, but they also executed the finer dinning menu with the same ease. "Seriously."

“You heard the man!” The call goes out around the kitchen even as though few members of the staff closest to Zach are exchanging knowing smiles. He’s a good guy and an even better boss, and they would all walk through fire for him. Adjusting menus is the least of it. “Let’s get to work!”

The kitchen is a flury of activity from the moment they say 'go' and Zach just chuckles as he watches all the crew that he has assembled rush back to their stations. "Let's put a meal on the table they will never forget." He hums.

******

It goes from rare that you and Zach spend a night apart to downright impossible for the first several weeks of living together, but your old roommate River is having a little birthday party for her thirtieth and you can’t deny the request to join her that night. She’s forgoing a big party and just having a few of the girls over after hours, with wine and treats and gossip for all.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” Zach promises for the eighth time, leaning in and kissing the concerned frown off your lips. “Shane and the guys invited me out for a drink, so you go have fun. I won’t be pining away for you in misery.” He grins. “But I will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” The bag with River’s gift in it dangled from the same hand that your purse does and you have the other hand on his cheek. “Have fun, baby. I love you.”

“You too.” You look amazing, but you always do. Zach watches as you turn and stride towards the door. “I love you.”

Down a few hallways and in the deck below where you and Zach share a suite, River has turned your old shared room into a boho chic crash pad with beaded curtains and scarves over her lamps, and the smell of patchouli in the air. It’s her happy place and you love that she is able to fully settle in and enjoy a comfortable place to herself until the quartermaster gives her a new roommate.

The music is on, but respectfully low to not disturb the cabins around hers if they are sleeping. The sound really coming out when she opens the door and grins. “Honestly didn’t know if you could tear yourself away.” She teases, lunging forward to wrap you in a tight hug.

“I didn’t either,” you joke, though it’s not wholly a joke. You squeeze her back and let her pull you inside easily. “Happy Birthday, honey.”

“Well, come in.” She grins as she pulls you inside. “Everyone else is on their way.”

“How many people are we going to cram into this place?” It’s nice to be back in a sort of nostalgic way. You had liked living with River and been fast friends with the philosophically-inclined bartender.

“Only four others.” She promises. “Intimate. Wine and gossip.”

“And snacks.” Along with River’s present, you have a tray of treats Zach made for you to bring for the party.

“Your soulmate is the best.” She gushes, eyes lighting up in delight. Zach had picked your brain for her favorites and managed to put together a finger food tray that was completely River. Right down to the mini cucumber sandwiches.

“He says happy birthday, too,” you laugh as she pulls you inside with gleeful giggles.

“What’s he doing tonight?” She asks, taking the tray and setting it down on the desk where she already has four bottles of wine and six glasses ready to go. “Pining for you?”

“Maybe.” You huff, though you can feel the warmth in your cheeks at the suggestion. “He’s having beers with the band. Boy gossip time.”

“Good.” She knows that you will be thinking about Zach, you have this almost dreamy expression on your face now. “Then I won’t feel guilty about pumping you for details.”

That only makes you laugh, because you had a feeling she would go that route, but she’s still your friend to tease. “Oh, so I’m the subject of tonight’s gossip?”

“Of course.” She huffs, rolling her eyes dramatically as if it was never in question. “No one else has anything as interesting going on in their lives.”

“Oh my god, you are not starting without me!” Madi — one of the hostesses from the ship’s high end restaurants and the most fashionable person you’ve ever met — comes in right behind you with a look of conspiratorial glee on her face. “I need to know everything.”

Quickly after her, the three other women who were invited arrive, all squealing about seeing you and soon all of you are lounging around the room with wine glasses in your hands. All of them waiting for the gossip to begin.

“Okay, okay.” You can pretend all you like, but getting to talk to some new people about Zach is actually nice. The guys in the band have heard every story already. Or they were there when it happened. “What do you vultures want to know?”

Tara grins, picking up a cucumber sandwich and examining it. “How much food play is involved in your bedroom life?” She asks, cackling at the joke. She’s a casino host from Zimbabwe and has a wickedly sharp sense of humor. Guests and crew alike adore her.

“Surprisingly very little.” You shouldn’t be stressed that that is the first question, but it still makes you grin. Zach doesn’t like food play because he still has hang ups about wasting food, but you use it in other ways. “Food is usually flirting with him. Seduction. Sometimes I walk into the club at night and his menu special is something I know he meant just for me.”

“That is so damn romantic.” Madi huffs. “I want a man who makes me special meals.” She takes a sip of her wine. “I bet he does that a lot, doesn’t he?”

“Almost every day,” you admit, hiding your grin behind your wine glass. “I swear I’m going to need a gym membership when we get back to New York. His food is so fucking good.”

"It looks like you are getting plenty of workouts." Jasmine snickers, lifting a brow at you. "You haven't gained a pound so you are sweating it off somewhere."

Zach doesn’t mind if you gossip a bit, you had made sure to ask how much he was comfortable with and he said it was fine. The broad strokes will surely be shared tonight, even while you keep the finer details for yourself. So you have no qualms admitting how active you actually have been. “I’m putting my birth control through the wringer.”

All of the girls erupt into giggles, happy about how proud of that fact you look and the playful banter starts to ping pong back and forth between them. All of them teasing you about positions and techniques to keep your soulmate making you fabulous meals for months to come.

“I know you guys didn’t invite me just to hear about how incredible my soulmate is,” you tease. Pouring your third glass of wine has you just as giggly as the rest of them. “Did you?”

A form chorus of ‘yes! is only counter by one ‘of course not! and that was only River who disagrees. Everyone starts laughing again and Tara hums. “We are all so happy for you babe. You light up at the mere mention of him.”

"He's..." The dreamy sign you let out is undeniable. Not that you ever would deny him. "He's the love of my life. I really don't know how I got so lucky."

"Did you know?" Jasmine asks quietly. "Before you actually knew? Were you like, drawn to him?"

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty," you admit, with a shrug of your shoulders that convinces no one at all. "I was definitely drawn to him, but I had no idea why. It was just..." The feeling had been there. It had blossomed in you and taken hold and grown so fast you couldn't keep it up. "I just thought it was the most intense crush I'd ever had. Like when you're a tween and have that very first puppy love experience? But as an adult it was so much more intense. I thought that's what it was...but it was the bond."

"Did Zach feel the same way?" Tara asks. "I can only assume he thought you were gorgeous, but every man on the crew thinks you're beautiful."

"Oh come on, don't be ridiculous." It's a lovely compliment, but it's definitely an exaggeration. "If you were to ask him, he would tell you that it was love at first sight for him. But he didn't think I'd ever like him, too. Which is patently ridiculous. Obviously."

"Obviously." River giggles. "Don't kill me, but Zach is hot."

“Why would I kill your for that?” You giggle over a sip of wine. “You’re right and you should say it.”

"Are you not jealous?" Tara asks, impressed by the idea that you wouldn't be. "I mean, I guess you wouldn't be, when he's so obviously devoted to you."

“I’m not going to be jealous that people have eyes. That’s silly.” Besides which, you’ve dealt with jealousy. You’ve seen it firsthand. It’s an ugly emotion that you never intend to face if you can ever help it. “As long as I’m the one he comes home to at night, I don’t care who else notices him. I know I’m damn lucky.”

"You are truly lucky." Madi sighs. "So lucky."

“Maybe you’ll find out Olaf is your soulmate,” you tease, grinning and making the other girls giggle. Madi had been long distance dating a Swiss hotel heir that she met while on vacation with her family in London. “You should get up the gumption to ask him if he has that tattoo of yours.”

"I would rather see it." She groans, rolling her eyes. "I need to see him. Tell the captain to sail around the continent. I have a man to jump."

"Get. It. Girl!" Jasmine crows, clapping and practically cheering.

Everyone laughs and you nearly spill your wine in the jostle of enthusiastic women.

It's a breath of fresh air to feel this happy and this free. This happy about your life. It might be the first time ever that you really are happy with exactly how things are, and that itself is a miracle.

******

Coming back to the room he shares with you, Zach is pleasantly buzzed. He had shared quite a few beers with Shane and the other guys, as well as shooting the shit and catching up. Trading jokes and stories. It’s different working back of the house in a kitchen and being up on stage in front of the same crowd of people. Both have interesting outlooks and everyone had laughed over the similarities and differences.

The click of the door startles you, mostly for reasons you can't quite articulate, but you jump out of your seat when Zach comes into the room. Cheeks stained with tears that you're still crying, your phone is clutched in one hand but you immediately reach for him with the other.

“What’s wrong?” Zach is immediately grabbing you, rushing over to your side and he sees that you seem physically alright. But your tears are aching, painful. He can feel how you are heartbroken. “What is it?” He demands, crushing you to him and instantly sobering.

"My, um—" You have to gasp between the tears, but you had hung up the phone with your mother just seconds before Zach came home and you haven't had time to process it all yet. "My Gram died." It seems so surreal, that sentence, and the very fact that you have to say it. She had seemed so well the last time you saw her. So capable and healthy. You had talked to her barely a week ago and she was perfectly fine. "It was—she had a stroke. This morning."

“Oh baby.” Zach has no family left to speak of, but he knows the heartbreak of loss. He closes his eyes as he holds you close. “I am so sorry.”

"They're organizing the funeral." Your voice wobbles, as uncertain as you feel, and you hold onto him tightly. "I—I gotta go home."

“Yes you do.” Zach squeezes you tight. “Do you want me to come with you?”

"Can you be away from the club?" Honestly you hadn't even processed the idea that Zach would offer to come with you, let alone that he actually could. "The, uh...the cruise—" You sniff back tears as best you can, trying to give yourself a clear head. "It's almost over. I have to talk to...I don't even know who. Someone. About going home."

“I’ll make sure I can.” Because of the pilot program on the cruise ship, they are docking and spending a week in port for meetings to make sure that there aren’t any changes that need to be made. It’s unusual, but it’s actually a good thing in this case. “My crew can handle the kitchen, even if it’s not new recipes.”

"Are you sure?" His willingness to just drop everything to be there for you is astonishing, and you couldn't be more grateful.

“Unless….you don’t want me to go?” He asks, unsure of why you’re so resistant to the idea of him supporting you during your loss. “I don’t have to if you’d rather go alone.”

"No, no — I want you to." Your hands tighten a little on his arms, silently begging him not to pull back. "I'm just...I'm still processing. And I guess I didn't expect you to offer it so easily."

“Of course I would.” He firms up his hold on you and leans into the embrace. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

"Thank you." You lean your forehead on his chest and breathe an extremely shaky breath, trying to keep hold of yourself so you don't break down crying again. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." He promises softly, his hand running up and down your back to soothe you. "Come on, let's lay down and you can cry it out." He knows it's too late for anything to be done tonight, but in the morning will be soon enough.

******

The morning, it turns out, is a whirlwind. The crew is given notice that the docking in port will be for two weeks instead of one due to a necessary repair on the ship, so when you go into the office to ask for a few extra days of bereavement leave, you’re told to take whatever you need. Shane promises to keep the band rolling in your absence and Zach turns his kitchen over to his sous chef for the time being. Things at work will be perfectly fine while the two of you are on dry land. You keep telling yourself that over and over while you pack.

Zach doesn't have many formal clothes, so he frets over that while he packs the nicest ones he has. "I— I will have to get a suit." He tells you after a moment. " I don't have one, and I'm assuming you want me at the funeral?"

You nod, still feeling fuzzy and vague, like your whole reality is off center. “I’m sorry honey, I mean—yes. We can get you one. The funeral isn’t for a few days, thankfully.”

"Don't be sorry." He sets the shirt down he had been folding carefully and moves over to where you are stuffing a large black suitcase full. Sliding his arms around you and hugging your back in support. "I'm sorry that I have to get one, that it will take time away from family."

“It’s okay,” you promise him quietly, drowning in the feeling of actual comfort and security inherent in being held in his arms. You’re so fucking grateful for Zach all of the time, but especially now. “I have a feeling that an excuse to get out of the house will be helpful now and then.”

"Whatever you need." He assures you. "I know it's not the best way to meet the family, but I'm here for you. If you need time away, you just let me know."

“I thought I could show you around Tulsa a little.” The good parts, anyway. He’ll see enough of the shitty parts while he’s with you. “When we decided we needed to get out, I mean.”

“That sounds good.” Zach nods. “What time is our flight?” You had made the arrangements, since you knew what to do. He had offered, and he had insisted on paying for his travel since you wouldn’t let him pay for both of you.

“Seven tonight. It’s going to be a long-ass flight home. Two layovers and every flight is at least a few hours long.” That draws another long, low sigh out of you and you lean back against his chest. “You’re amazing for doing this with me, baby. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“Of course.” He makes it sound simple and for him, it is. “Don’t forget to pack your book.” He murmurs. “And your sleep mask. Maybe you can get a few hours of sleep on the flights.” You didn’t sleep last night, but that’s almost expected.

“You’ll have to teach me the military trick for sleeping anywhere.” Zach’s ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat is fairly spectacular, and you grab your sleep mask from the bedside table as he recommends. It can go in your carryon with the book you’ve been reading. And a spare, for good measure.

He grins at you and drops a kiss on your forehead. "Exhaustion beyond compare." He explains. "There's no other way to describe it."

“I have a feeling I might get there this week.” Slowly, methodically, the two of you work through your packing. Your little hometown right outside of Tulsa, Oklahoma isn’t much to talk about but you tell him little bits here and there. It doesn’t feel real to be going back like this. It doesn’t feel right. But it is what it is and cannot be anymore.

"It'll be alright." He knows you are bouncing back and forth between grief and nervousness, but he lets you talk it out how you need to. "If you need me to do anything at all, you just let me know."

“The fact that you’re coming with me means more than you know.”

"Baby, you are my soulmate." He reminds you. "We are a team, and I know that if it was me, you would be right beside me." He appreciates that and he takes your hand when you turn to him. "I want you to know you can lean on me anytime. I'm here for you."

“If it was you, I wouldn’t hesitate.” And that, you suppose, is his point. So you nod your head and to your head back, pressing a short kiss to his lips. “I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He murmurs. “You’re my world.”

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