#and thank you for that panoramic of it too!

[justagalwhowrites]

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 8: Making Waves

You start filming Savage Starlight and a conflict brings you and Joel closer together. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 7 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Mild violence. Memory of past childhood sexual abuse, not described. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 11.9k

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter

August, 2002 

You stared down at your headshot on your lap, your stomach in knots. 

This wasn’t an audition but it felt like one. An intense one at that. Not that you’d ever taken your career casually, you’d always given your best at auditions and rehearsals and on set, even when you were first starting years ago. But that had always just been to make your mom happy and make things better for the people around you and to make something good. You’d never really worried about the practicalities of it. But you had to worry about those practicalities now. 

It had been a month since you found out your mother had, essentially, driven your financial life into the ground. You still didn’t know what her endgame was. You were hardly a genius at math but looking at the piles of papers you’d found in her office told you enough and, when you confronted her, she told you the truth: you were more than $6 million in debt, $2 million of that owed to the U.S. government. You may not know much but you knew that was bad. Really fucking bad. You needed money, way more than you’d make for a season of Family Tree. You had, at least, managed to land $100,000 an episode for the season you were filming now but still, that was only $2 million, just enough to cover the past due tax bill and nothing else. You’d been living in your trailer - it was only a matter of time before someone figured that one out - and surviving off craft services for weeks. You needed an apartment, you needed to get a lawyer to get emancipated and those things required money. You needed something else, you needed it to pay well and you needed it now. 

You heard your name and your head shot up. The receptionist smiled kindly at you. 

“Mr. Wilde will see you now,” she said. “Head on in.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled as best you could, your chest tight, and straightened your dress before you headed into the office. 

The room was huge, panoramic windows looking over the hills beyond, shelves of awards and pictures of the same man smiling with celebrities on every surface. That man, Henry Wilde, was looking down at his desk when you came in, in a blazer with the top few buttons of his shirt open. You let the door close behind you and you hovered awkwardly, trying to not fidget with your headshot. This was the first time you’d ever taken a meeting like this on your own. Your mother had been your agent but you weren’t about to let her represent you for shit anymore. You needed to find one of those, too. After what felt like a small eternity had passed, you cleared your throat quietly and he looked up, appraising you for a moment before smiling. 

“Hey there sweetheart,” he said, standing up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in! Please, make yourself comfortable.” 

He gestured to the plush seats opposite his desk and you smiled, relaxing a little as you crossed the room and sat down. He set his Blackberry to the side and laced his fingers together as he watched you arrange yourself, a small smile on his face. 

“Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr. Wilde,” you said. “I know you said I could reach out when I needed something but I really appreciate it.” 

“Of course, of course,” he scoffed. “I do my best to make time for rising talent like you. I’ve been enjoying your work, you are a truly gifted actor.” 

“Thank you,” you said, sitting up a little straighter, your hands looping around your knee as you crossed one leg over the other. “That really means a lot, coming from you. I mean when you look at the projects you’ve produced…” 

“Please, let’s not waste our time talking about me,” he waved you off. “I’m much more interested in what made you reach out, especially on your own without your mother. She’s always been so… hands on.”

“Yeah,” you winced a little in spite of yourself. “She’s… she’s not representing me anymore. That’s part of why I wanted to see you. I… I found out some things about what she’s been doing and how she’s been managing me and…” 

He smiled a little. 

“You need some help figuring things out on your own?” He finished for you. 

“Yes,” you sighed, relieved, and then laughed. “Yes, I really, really do. I don’t really know what I’m doing for this, just that I have some money that I owe so I need to work but I don’t know how to find an agent or a manager and how to find more work and I just…” 

“You were right to come to me,” he cut you off, reaching into a tray on his desk, flipping through a stack of file folders before finding the one he was looking for. “We can’t be losing talent like yours to the bureaucratic bullshit of the industry…” 

You were silent for a minute, watching as he paged through things, nodding to himself, before reaching into his desk and pulling out a business card. You sat up a little straighter as he looked at you across the desk. 

“I think I have a way to help you,” he said. “There’s a part that I can get you an audition for - you’d still have to land it but I’ll get you in the mix - that should solve any of the economic issues you’re having. And I have an agent for you -” he held the business card out to you between two thick fingers. You reached to take it but he pulled it back. You frowned, looking back at him. “But I’d need something in return.” 

You deflated a little. 

“But…” 

“I’m a business man,” he continued, watching you. “I don’t give things away for free. If I did, I never would have reached where I am today. This needs to go both ways, sweetheart.” 

You laughed a little in spite of yourself. 

“OK,” you said. “But I… I don’t have anything. That’s why I’m here, I don’t have any money, I don’t know anybody - at least not anyone you wouldn’t know - I…” 

“I don’t need money or power,” he interrupted you. His eyes ranged over you, slow and sharp. “But believe me, there’s plenty you have that I want.” 

You swallowed hard, your stomach clenching. 

“I don’t…” 

“And there’s plenty I have that you want,” he continued like you hadn’t spoken at all, his eyes lingering on your chest, your thighs. “The only question is what you will do to get it.” 

You steeled yourself, the threat of debt and homelessness hanging over your head.

“I’ll do anything,” you said. “Please.” 

He smiled, the expression making you want to squirm uncomfortably in your seat. 

“Good,” he said, holding the card out again. “That’s the information for the agent. I’ll give them the information for the audition if you come to my hotel tonight at 8 p.m. Sound good?” 

Your heart stuttered in your chest. It wasn’t like you had any experience with men but you knew what he was asking for. 

“Yes,” you said quietly. 

“Good,” he said. “I’ll send a car and I’ll see you tonight.” 

He looked back to his desk and you took that to mean that you were dismissed and you stood up, your legs shaky and your headshot still in your hands. 

“Oh, and sweetheart?” He said and you turned to face him, an almost hungry look on his face. “Wear something… cute.” 

You just nodded and made your way out of his office, past the receptionist and to the elevator, trying not to wonder if any of this was worth it. 

November 29. 2024

“Christmas Shoes.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“It’s true, that’s my favorite Christmas song.” 

You scoffed. 

“Who hurt you as a child?” You asked, wishing you could turn and look at your costar but you had to sit still for the makeup artists to do their job, your eyes closed as one of them worked on your eyeshadow. “That’s the worst, most depressing song choice in the world.” 

“Alright, Miss Superiority Complex,” he said. “What’s your favorite Christmas song?” 

“Christmas Wrapping by the Waitresses,” you said without hesitation. 

“No,” he said and you could almost hear him shaking his head and you resisted the urge to giggle. “No, I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to sound cool, that’s not actually your favorite.” 

“Yes it is,” you said. “Sorry my taste is so much better than yours but…” 

“Alright,” your makeup artist said and you didn’t feel her fingers or brushes on your face anymore so you opened your eyes. She smiled, sitting back from you, looking proud of her work. “Ready for the wig?” 

“Hell yeah,” you smiled. “Let’s go.” 

They turned your chair so your back was to the mirror and you watched as the artists brought in a white wig that looked like it would reach your waist. The prep work for the hairpiece had already been done, a bald cap on your head while the makeup artists did their job, and putting on the wig itself didn’t take too long, a production assistant going to get one of the marketing team interns to come in and shoot the video of you seeing yourself as Starlight for the first time. You got out of the chair, keeping your back to the mirrors as your co-star, Cole Cox, watched from his own makeup chair with a little smile on his face. 

“You do look really good,” he said, the marketing person catching everything. “My kid is going to lose her mind when she sees me standing next to you.” 

“Wait ’til she sees you flying with me,” you smiled back before jumping in place for a moment to loosen yourself up, the camera fading into the background of your mind. “Alright, let’s do it!” 

You turned to face the mirror and gasped in spite of yourself. 

You’d seen yourself in costume plenty of times before in your life. Sometimes it seemed like you spent more time dressed up as someone else than you did as yourself. But you’d never seen yourself as a superhero before. Putting the costume on that morning had been an experience in and of itself. It took some help getting into it, the molded pieces and tight fabric a lot more work than you were used to when it came to getting dressed, but you couldn’t deny that the end result looked pretty incredible. 

But with the wig and the makeup - highlighting your cheekbones, making your eyes look sharper - it was even better. 

“Oh my God,” you said leaning into the mirror to get a better look at yourself. The makeup artist laughed. “This is amazing! I look… heroic!” 

“Endure and survive, baby,” Cole said and you laughed. 

“Endure and survive,” You smiled, looking over your shoulder to him. 

“Alright, let’s get you two to set,” the production assistant said and you took one last look at yourself before you turned to leave. 

It was almost hard to believe that you’d been in Austin, making Thanksgiving dinner at this time the day before. It had been a hectic day, getting up early and napping in the car on the way to the airport and again on the plane, feeling oddly safe sleeping in front of people because you knew Joel was there. You’d gone straight from LAX to the studio and into costuming and makeup and even though you were just doing some promo stuff that day, you knew you were going to be exhausted by the time you made it home that night. 

Joel, to his credit, had been surprisingly… maybe not kind, but less than surly since your conversation in your office days earlier. While he didn’t seem thrilled about getting up so early, he’d kept his commentary to himself and hadn’t even fought too hard about needing to wait outside the hair and makeup room instead of being glued to your side the entire time. You wondered if he’d be happy being quite that flexible during the rest of your trip. Somehow, you doubted it. 

Your bodyguard was right there when the door to the makeup room opened, looking like he’d been pacing the short distance of the hallway for a while, turning quickly as you left. 

“Took you long…” he began but his voice trailed off and he stared at you, his eyes going a little wide. 

“So cool, right?” You said, popping your hip and planting your hand there to strike a pose. “It really looks like the suit from the comics! Do you think Ellie will like it?” 

He snapped his mouth shut and blinked for a moment. 

“Well?” You asked, brows raised, suddenly nervous. Joel had come to know Ellie well over the last few months, what if he thought she wouldn’t like it? 

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, much of his trademark gruffness absent from his voice. “Yeah, think… You look… She’ll like it.” 

You smiled and made your way to set, Joel damn near pressed to your side the entire way. 

It was about what you expected for the rest of the day. You posed for promotional photos with Cole and by yourself, the oddly exacting feeling of Joel’s eyes on you while you did. Then, they put you in some rigging and walked you through how to pose like you were flying. 

“OK this is trippy,” you said, hanging 10 feet in the air. “Are we going to use any of this footage for anything but promos? I’m not sure of her physicality yet, especially with flight…” 

“This is just for your intro video,” the director said. “Kind of like a highlight reel. It’ll circulate online plenty after the announcement but we don’t have any plans to use this anywhere in the final film.” 

“So I can fuck around as much as I want,” you said. “Noted.” 

You heard Joel stifle a laugh and you looked toward him as he rolled his eyes. 

“What, Big Miller?” You teased. 

“Nothin’,” he said. “Just learning where that niece of yours got her mouth from.” 

“She had to learn it somewhere,” you winked and you saw him try not to smile.

You ended up in the air for a while, the camera slowly panning down your costumed body, capturing you from every angle and you tried not to feel self conscious about that before you focused on looking strong and intimidating with a wind machine in your face. 

Then were some fight sequences - mostly just your side of it, almost like you were battling a camera man - and striking poses that felt immensely foolish, your hands out in front of you like you were sending a burst of energy forth but none came. The marketing person followed you around any time you weren’t actively filming, catching you goofing off with Cole and dancing a little to the music that was playing on set as everyone got into position. It was disconcerting, being so observed again. You’d become spoiled in Texas, months since you’d last been on a film set or under the omnipresent eye of a camera. You had to maintain a different persona here, one that was palatable and easily consumed and, by the time you went back to get out of costume, you were exhausted. 

“You alright?” Joel asked, his hand on your lower back as he led you to the car. 

“Fine,” you said, trying to hide a yawn and failing miserably. “Just tired.” 

“Probably hungry, too,” he muttered, sounding irritated. “Didn’t see you eat a damn thing today and you were doin’ all that shit, flying around, fighting… Gonna fuckin’ collapse if you’re not careful.” 

You looked at him, a little incredulous as he opened the car door. 

“There’s not room for me to eat anything in that suit,” you said. “And since when do you pay attention to my eating habits?” 

He rolled his eyes. 

“In the car.” 

“So demanding,” you muttered but you obeyed all the same, too eager to have room to breathe to fight his orders on principle. Joel climbed in after you, pulling the door closed with a little too much force. The driver started moving almost the second the door was closed. “But the statement still stands, since when do you care what I’m eating?” 

“Since you collapsing would make my life difficult,” he said. “And since we were on that set all damn day with that big food table and all you did was drink water and Diet fuckin’ Coke.” 

“Such a gentleman.” 

“Shove it,” he griped. You snorted. “You got food in that house of yours or are you just planning to go on hunger strike for this whole damn movie?” 

You rolled your eyes but unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned between the front seats so you could see the driver. He glanced at you, brows raised. 

“Ma’am.” 

“Hi,” you smiled. “You don’t have to just go to my house, right? I can tell you somewhere else to go?” 

“Yes ma’am,” he said. 

“Siren,” Joel said, a warning tone on his voice that you ignored. 

“Perfect,” you said. “Then let’s go to In ’n Out, one near the beach please.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he said again and you sat back, crossing one leg over the other and looking at Joel, smug.

“Security don’t get a say in this?” He said wryly. 

“Nope,” you said.  

“You tryin’ to get yourself killed?” He asked. 

“Usually,” you said.

He rolled his eyes. 

“Seatbelt,” he said. 

“Seatbelt,” you said, lowering your voice to parrot his own, bobbing your head from side to side but obeying anyway. “God, isn’t it exhausting being that controlling?” 

“You’re exhausting,” he said. “You’re not just going inside a restaurant, you know.” 

“I know,” you said. “It’s fast food, Joel. It has a drive through.”

“Jesus,” he muttered and you smiled. 

“You forgot,” you said. He looked at you, brows raised and you smiled wider. “You forgot that fast food places have drive throughs for a minute there, didn’t you.” 

“No,” he said, defensive and irritated and you had to press your lips together to keep from laughing. “I just always expect you to do the most ridiculous shit, damn the consequences. Don’t see why you’d change that now.” 

You just rolled your eyes and watched the city go by, girls in short dresses dashing across streets and ducking into bars, guys clapping hands with their friends, the lights of the city sparkling. You wondered what it would be like to live that life, one where you could just be a face in the crowd that no one paid any mind to beyond the people you loved, where a small economy wasn’t riding on you showing up to work every day, where you weren’t so caged by choices made for you before you could even really understand them. 

You did a video call with Ellie on the drive and checked in with her and Elise, who had come to stay at your house for the few weeks you were gone so they would be better protected. She’d had a good day, Esmo helping the two of them decorate the house for Christmas. 

“Sissy, look at this shit!” Ellie said, turning the camera so it faced out into the living room. 

“Ellie!” Elise scolded. “Language!” 

“Fine,” she sighed, exasperated. “Look at this stuff.” 

“That looks amazing, kiddo!” You said, watching as she panned around the room, showing off the fat tree that sat against the back wall. “Good eye.” 

“It even has the old ornaments, look!” She said, going to the tree and going in close on a bulb that was covered in haphazard glitter paint in the shape of a small handprint, one Ellie and Anna had made when Ellie was a toddler. “Like the really old ones I made with Mom!” 

“Yeah,” you said, getting choked up. “Check that out.” 

She turned the camera back on her face. 

“We saved some for you to put on. But… Wish you could have been here to decorate and sh…stuff,” she said.

“Me too,” you smiled a little sadly. “But I’ll be home before you know it and you can show me everything.” 

“Cool,” she said. “Hey, Big Miller!” 

“What’s up, trouble maker?” He asked, putting his face next to yours so he was in the frame, too. 

“Do you have a tree and ornaments and stuff at your house or are you going to have to use ours?” 

You felt him stiffen for a moment at your back for half a moment before responding. 

“Not much point in decorating for just me,” he said. “But don’t care about the holidays much, anyway so it don’t matter.” 

“You should get some ornaments and a stocking and shit,” she said. 

“Ellie!” Elise scolded. 

“And STUFF,” Ellie said. “I said stuff, Grandma!” 

“No you didn’t,” you and Joel said at the same time. 

“Traitors,” Ellie muttered, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you should bring some Christmas stuff,” Ellie stressed the word “and put it up with our stuff. You’re at our house all the time, anyway.” 

Before you had a chance to intervene and force some of the professional distance Joel claimed to have wanted, he answered for you. 

“Maybe, kid,” he said. “Don’t… don’t really have much of that kind of thing though.” 

“We should head to bed over here,” Elise said, looping her arm around Ellie’s shoulders and giving you a soft smile. “It’s late. You’re taking care of yourself out there? Not stressing yourself too much?” 

“I’m fine, Mom,” you smiled back. “And Big Miller here isn’t letting me out of his sight so no scary fans can come run off with me, promise.” 

“Good,” she said. “Get some rest. We’ll talk to you tomorrow, honey.” 

You said your goodbyes just as the car pulled up to the In ’n Out drive through. 

“What do you want,” Joel said, reading the menu as you waited your turn. 

“I’ll just order it myself,” you waved him off. 

“No, you won’t,” he said. “Don’t need anyone recognizing your damn voice and calling the fuckin’ paparazzi…” 

You snorted. 

“That’s not a thing you need to worry about,” you said. “We’d be long gone before they showed up. It’s fine. And you’d just order it wrong. If I’m risking this damn costume not fitting tomorrow so I can eat tonight you’d better believe I’m getting what I want.” 

He looked at you, his jaw clenched tight, but he still rolled down the window when you pulled up to the kiosk and you let Joel order first because it seemed like the nice thing to do. You had to lean over him to get closer to the window and he stiffened, sitting stock still as your front brushed against him. 

“Hi!” You called brightly through the window. “Can I get a double double, protein style and animal style and fries with spread on the side and a Diet Coke?” 

“Is that even food?” Joel asked once the man working the window repeated your order back to you. 

You scoffed. 

“It’s definitely food. And don’t be jealous when mine is better than yours,” you said. “I’m not sharing.” 

You ignored Joel when he tried to yank you into the back seat, his hand closing around the waist of your yoga tights as you leaned between the front seat to get your food, the kid working the window gaping at you for a moment. 

“Hi,” you smiled. 

“Oh my God,” he said, gaping at you. 

“Is the spread in there?” You asked, holding up the bag. 

“Uh,” he said, his eyes wide. “Yeah… yeah, it’s in there.” 

“Awesome,” you smiled wider. “You’re the best. Thank you!” 

“You about gave that kid a heart attack,” Joel said, opening his own bag and pulling out a French fry. “That famous face of yours is gonna get someone killed…” 

“Ha ha,” you rolled your eyes. “And you’re not allowed to eat yet.” 

“Dyin’ to know why not,” he said, popping the fry in his mouth anyway. 

“Because you have to wait until we’re at the beach to eat it, that’s the rule,” you said before turning your attention to the driver. “Nearest beach, please. Not Santa Monica, that’ll be too busy by the pier.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he said. 

“No,” Joel snapped. “Absolutely not.” 

“Absolutely yes,” you said. 

“It’s not safe,” he said, leaning forward to talk to the driver. “Don’t listen to her, do not go to the beach.”

“It’s after dark and I want to see the ocean,” you said. 

“It’s dangerous,” he growled. 

“No one knows I’m going to be there,” you said, as calmly as you could. “No one is expecting me. It’s after dark, no one will be there trying to swim or sunbathe. This is the time to go.” 

“You don’t need to go look at the damn water,” Joel said. “It’s water. Same as always.” 

“I miss the beach,” you said, watching him closely. “Come on, Joel. I’m giving up enough, aren’t I? Can’t I have this? Just one little normal thing? Please?” 

He watched you back for a moment, those brown eyes of his sharp at first but softening. 

“You listen when we’re there,” he said eventually. “If anyone else is there, we leave. You don’t do anything reckless or dumb. We clear?” 

“Crystal,” you smiled, practically giddy. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise.” 

“Better not do anything dumb,” he muttered, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest but not protesting any more. 

The driver stopped in an empty lot, the horizon dark, the light of the city at your back, Santa Monica Pier bright in the distance. But this stretch of sand was empty of people, just the way you liked it. You looked to Joel all the same, eyebrows raised and one hand on the door handle. 

He sighed. 

“Go on.” 

You couldn’t help but squeal a little, too excited for this little slice of normalcy to hold it in. You damn near threw the door open, all the exhaustion that had weighed you down fading enough that you ran, arms spread wide, toward the water. 

The crash of the waves was loud, the air crisp and cool and laden with salt and the harsh tang of wet seaweed and rotting fish. You stopped just at the edge of the waves, the tide high, and whooped out into the night, to where the stars disappeared into the darkness, laughing as your voice faded to nothing in the distance. 

“The hell are you doin’,” Joel said more than asked as he came up alongside you. 

“Enjoying the ocean,” you said, breathless, watching the waves roll in for a moment, listening to them crash before looking at Joel smiling. “Why, do you do something besides yell at the water when you do it?” 

He gave you a look that, even in the dim light of the city behind you and the pier in the distance and the moon overhead, you recognized as at least a little exasperated and you laughed. 

“C’mon, Big Miller,” you teased, clapping him on the shoulder before traipsing back inland. “Let’s eat.” 

You got the food from the car and you planted yourself down on the sand, midway between the parking lot and the water, taking off your shoes and burying your toes in the cool sand. Joel sat beside you, close enough that his elbow brushed yours when he moved. You got the burger out first and took a bite, giving a satisfied moan when you did, your stomach growling too. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” you said, your mouth full. “I was hungrier than I realized.” 

“Told you,” Joel said, smug, taking a bite of his own burger. “Shit, think I was, too.” 

“You don’t have any damn excuse,” you said, taking another bite. “You can have all the craft services you want, you don’t have a costume that has very little stretch that was made from very precise measurements to fit into every day.” 

“Sounds like a personal problem,” he said. 

“Suppose it does,” you said, balancing the burger on your knees to open the spread and dip a fry in it. 

“So,” Joel said after a minute. “Why’d you want to come to the beach.” 

You looked over at him, brows raised. He was staring determinedly ahead at the water as he took a sip of his drink. 

“Do you really want to know?” You asked. “Or do you want leverage on me.” 

He shrugged. 

“Dunno what I could leverage on you about a fuckin’ beach.” 

You laughed dryly. 

“Suppose that’s true,” you looked at the water, too. “I used to come to the beach a lot when I was little. It’s about the only thing I remember from before I started working.” 

You felt Joel’s eyes on you then but you kept looking straight ahead. 

“Most people come to Los Angeles but I was from here,” you continued. “And yeah, I might be some rich asshole now but I wasn’t exactly born into money. I’m guessing my mom brought me here because she was flat broke and this was a free way to keep me occupied. But I remember sitting on the sand and eating those saltine crackers - the individually wrapped ones, like you get with soup at restaurants which is probably what she did, swiped them from work when she was waiting tables - and just watching the water and wondering how far my voice would travel if I yelled. I thought it might carry across the world when I was really little because there was nothing there to stop it… Anyway. I still like coming here, I miss it when I can’t. It makes me feel small.” 

“And that’s a good thing?” Joel asked, his eyes still on you. 

You looked at him then, at his uncommonly soft gaze, tracing the outline of his face with your eyes. You realized that you knew his face so well now, better than so many others. Even in the dark, you knew where the flecks of gray had started in his beard, knew that the creases would be less pronounced around his eyes right now because he wasn’t glaring at you. 

“I think so,” you said softly, the waves crashing in their steady rhythm before you. “It’s nice to be reminded that, in the grand scheme of things, I’m actually quite insignificant.” 

“Don’t think that’s true,” he said. “Think you’d always matter.” 

You watched him for a moment, as though he was going to change his mind or take it back, but he didn’t. 

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, looking back to the water and brushing the sand off your shins. “I guess it doesn’t really make much difference, does it?” 

“Suppose not,” he said. 

You put the paper wrappers and your empty cup in the bag and tucked it where you didn’t think it would blow away before looping your arms around your knees, taking a deep, centering breath. 

“You ready for a lot more days like today?” You asked. “Standing around while I play dress up?” 

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Can’t believe how many times they make you do the same damn thing again and again.” 

You laughed. 

“Yeah, that happens,” you said. “It’s gotta be pretty boring to watch from the outside.” 

You more felt him shrug than saw him. 

“Had more boring jobs.” 

You kept watching the waves, the energy you had from just being at the beach slowly fading and the exhaustion for the day catching up with you and you leaned your head onto Joel’s shoulder. He stiffened for a moment but, before you moved away from him, he relaxed into you.  He was calming, something sturdy about his presence, and he smelled clean and masculine and you had the oddest desire to nuzzle into his neck and breathe him in and commit that scent to memory.

“See why you like the beach,” he said eventually. “It’s… nice. Steady.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Yeah,” you said. “It is.” 

You stayed like that for a while, until you were worried you were going to fall asleep on him and you went back to the car. On the drive home, you fought to keep your eyes open but failed, your head finding the warm comfort of his broad shoulders once again and you drifted off to the steady cadence of his breathing as the world went by outside your window. 

***

He shouldn’t allow this. 

He knew better. He did. But as you leaned against his side, your head on his shoulder, he slumped down further in his seat so you stayed in that place pressed into him, the artificial scent of hair spray and makeup remover mixing with sand and the salt of the water and your sweat. 

He fucking knew better. This was stupid. Arguably one of the stupidest things he’d ever done. He didn’t want to be attached to you. He definitely didn’t want to get any more attached than he already was. He didn’t want to know what your fucking hair smelled like or how soft your skin was or how your body felt when it relaxed against his own. 

But. 

But you were there. You were close and protected and had unconsciously found comfort in him in a way no one had done in so, so long and he hated how much he enjoyed that. He liked you close, wanted you close. He felt calm, sure when you were close.

This was stupid but he wasn’t sure how to stop it. It felt like when he was a kid, running down a steep hill at full speed and he knew that even if he stopped putting one foot in front of the other he would keep careening toward the bottom, not able to control it.  

He felt it when he was with you on the plane and you were groggy and he stopped the flight attendant from waking you to offer you breakfast or a drink because you needed the rest and instead kept the fruit and the granola bar and gave them to you when you woke. He felt it when he saw you in that damn costume, as if the fucking leggings and sports bras weren’t bad enough, you dressed in something made for you - designed to make you look powerful and beautiful and strong - made his heart stutter in his chest. He felt it when he watched your costar touch you in the ways he wanted to touch you. He tried to shove that urge down deep, tried to keep from breaking his damn jaw from clenching it so hard as he watched you work. 

And now you were asleep against him, relaxed and soft. He should stop it, he knew that, but he couldn’t. 

You didn’t wake as the car came to a stop in your driveway, you didn’t even stir. 

“Hey,” he said softly, nudging you gently. “C’mon, we’re home.” 

Your face scrunched but you just pressed closer to him. 

“Hey,” he said again, giving you a little shake. “Gotta get you inside.” 

You didn’t respond at all that time and, as good an actress as you might be, Joel could tell you weren’t faking. Back when he thought you were nothing more than a spoiled brat, he’d be frustrated by it but he knew better now. You’d been traveling since 3 a.m. local time, been going non-stop since you were on the ground and it was after 10 now. Joel had gotten to sit there and watch you work all day - the contained space of the movie studio making his job easier than he was used to - and he was pretty damn tired. It was no wonder you were exhausted. 

Joel sighed. 

“Alright, hang on,” he said to himself far more than to you. 

He carefully arranged you so you wouldn’t fall over without him to lean on and slowly, delicately, got out of the car before gingerly pulling you against his body. He tucked your head into his shoulder, one arm going behind your back and below your arms, the other looping beneath your knees. You groaned a little in your sleep, your eyebrows knitting together, but you just nuzzled closer to him, your fingers looping around the collar of his shirt and tangling in the fabric to hold him close. 

Dominic, one of the guards at your front door who had been on your detail the last time you were in LA, smirked a little as he opened the door for Joel. 

“Shut up,” Joel muttered as he carried you inside. 

“Didn’t say a thing,” Dominic said. 

Joel carried you to your room, the lamp on your nightstand on when he got there and set you softly on the bed. He carefully removed your shoes and tugged the knit throw draped over the foot of your bed up and over you. You smiled in your sleep, face content and relaxed, and he let himself pretend, for a moment, that that look was for him. He watched you from that reality, one where he didn’t manage to destroy everything he ever cared for, one where he was worthy of your peace and quiet spaces, but stopped himself before he got lost there, in that world that wasn’t for him. He went to turn off the lamp but paused for a moment, looking at a photo on your bedside table. 

In any other context, with any other person, it wouldn’t have been anything extraordinary. It was you, Anna, Elise and Ellie at Disneyland. Ellie couldn’t have been more than seven, a gap in her smile as the four of you posed in front of the castle. Your arm was around her front to pull her back against you and Anna’s head was on your shoulder and Elise was beaming on the other side of you. But the best part was you in the middle of it all. You looked… normal. Still so beautiful he was sure people would be staring at you even if you weren’t famous but your skin was shiny with sweat, a pair of sunglasses tucked into the neck of your tank top, cutoff shorts and tennis shoes and Mickey Mouse ears on like you were just any other person. If you’d started the day in makeup it was long gone by the time this picture was taken but you didn’t seem to care. You looked happy. So fucking happy, in a way Joel was sure he hadn’t seen before, like this was all you wanted in the world. Not the movie premieres and awards shows but this, being next to the people you loved, giving your niece something she wanted. 

Something about that gave Joel a lump in his throat. That, when it came down to it, the thing you really wanted was probably the same thing he did - more time with someone who was gone. 

He tucked the blanket in tighter around you and tried not to think about the disturbingly human version of you that he left behind in your bed when he went to his own. 

“Did you put me to bed last night?” You asked by way of greeting the next morning, sitting in your kitchen with a cup of coffee in your hand when Joel got up for the day.

Joel shrugged, getting himself a mug and going for the coffee pot. 

“You could have woken me up, you know,” you said, a teasing edge to your voice. 

“Tried that,” he replied. “You weren’t movin’. Couldn’t just let you sleep in the car all night, not safe.” 

“Well, I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t need to haul my ass around today,” you said. “But… thanks.” 

“Sure,” he said again. “But… it was fine. Didn’t mind.” 

You smiled a little and tried to hide it behind your mug and Joel tried to ignore the way his chest swelled a little when you did, when you gave him some indication that you liked him looking out for you. 

That day was more of the same, Joel sitting on a movie set and not fully understanding what was happening, watching you in that perfectly fitted fucking costume as you ran and jumped and threw punches and flew with your all-too-handsome costar pressed tight to your side. He tried to get used to it, to watching you work while he sat on his ass, to seeing you touch someone else in that soft and tender way without a spark of jealousy catching in him. 

It was the same the next day, too, and the day after that and Joel was starting to wonder how long you could really keep going at this pace. They had you getting to set at six in the goddamn morning, in hair and makeup and costuming until close to nine and then you were shooting until close to nine at night, often with nothing but a smoothie or fucking Diet Coke in between. 

“Acting is… harder than I thought it’d be,” Joel said one day on the ride back to your house. 

“It can be a hard job,” you said with a shrug. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m very lucky to do what I do and I love acting but yeah, it can absolutely kick your ass some days.” 

“Good to know you earn that damn paycheck at least,” he said dryly. 

You laughed. 

“Always happy to have your seal of approval, Big Miller.” 

He was relieved when things relaxed on Thursday, you apparently having meetings at the studio half the day and you didn’t move from your room for so long that Joel was starting to worry. But, eventually, you emerged, looking almost oddly polished and professional with dark jeans and a turtleneck and a blazer on. 

“Starting to think you died,” Joel said dryly from his place on the couch. 

You smiled a little. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” you said. “Just tired, needed to catch up on sleep.” 

“Can’t blame you,” Joel muttered. “Seems like that director is bound and determined to work you to death.” 

You shrugged.

“I did ask them to try and squeeze as much filming into a day as possible,” you said. “I don’t want to be away from Ellie for too long. This whole process is going to be tricky when we start shooting with the whole cast next month, we’re just trying to knock out what we can now because we can.” 

“Still,” Joel said. “Can’t make a movie if you drop dead from exhaustion.” 

“Aw, Big Miller,” you smirked a little. “Look at you, caring. Who knew you had it in you?” 

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, getting to his feet and grabbing his jacket. “Before this all goes to your damn head…” 

He tried to ignore the pleased little smile on your face on the drive to the studio offices, the sunlight through the tinted windows almost making your skin glow. 

Joel stayed closer to you than usual as the two of you headed into the skyscraper in Burbank, this space less contained than the studio lot. It looked so much like a regular office building it was a little disconcerting and he felt distinctly out of place here, especially with you because you were out of place here, too. 

Not in the way he was, of course. Joel had never been under the misplaced assumption that he would one day work in a building like this one. This world was different than the one he occupied, he would never be anything more than an interloper among powerful people who dominated the corporate world and made more money than he could even dream of. But you were on the opposite side of the spectrum, so far apart from him that you may as well have been a different species. Things as mundane as a business meeting and an office building seemed so far below you - though, at least, this place seemed to realize that. 

A young woman met you at the front door, handing you an iced coffee and ushering you quickly through a turnstile and to an elevator without you needing to talk to anyone or pass through a metal detector like the other mortals that were coming and going from here. 

“Do you know your way from here?” She asked as the elevator neared its destination. 

“Yes, thank you,” you smiled. “I appreciate your help.” 

“Of course,” she said as the door chimed and opened. “Please let me know if I can get you anything else.” 

Quinn met you at the elevator doors, which opened onto another lobby - one much more opulent than the one downstairs, looking more like a luxury hotel than an office building. 

“We just need to get a few things nailed down,” she said, you and her talking low as Joel trailed along behind you to an office with a secretary waiting out front. 

“I think you’re safe to wait out here,” you said when Joel went to follow you inside. “Don’t think there are any big bad monsters lying in wait for me up here.” 

“Probably right,” Joel said and you gasped. 

“Joel Miller, admitting that I’m correct? I’m shocked!” 

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, resisting the urge to smile as he watched you head into some oversized office with some overpaid executive before settling in to wait. 

He tried to soothe his unease at there being a wall between you in a place he didn’t know by being alert, his arms crossed over his chest, body tense. He could just see some of the lobby outside through the glass in the door and he caught a glimpse of the jackass producer you’d dated in the past, the one who was far too old for you as he went walking past. He tightened his jaw. 

Eventually, you and Quinn came back out, some man Joel hadn’t met before following behind. 

“Looking forward to sharing this with the world,” he said, offering you his hand. 

“You and me both,” you smiled, taking it as Joel looked the man up and down. But you weren’t stiff and uncomfortable like you’d been in the past, instead seeming much more like yourself. 

“Seemed like that went well,” Joel said, following you and Quinn back to the lobby. 

“It did,” you smiled a little, looking back over your shoulder to him. “Believe it or not, not everything in this town is dramatic.” 

Joel snorted. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

The three of you were headed for the elevators again when you stopped, looking at a woman and a man talking in two arm chairs not far away. 

“Margie?” You said and the woman looked up, blinking in surprise at you before smiling hugely. You smiled back and headed for her, Joel and Quinn trailing behind you. It took him a moment to place the woman and then he recognized her, the mother of the girl who was playing the younger version of you in Savage Starlight. “Hey, how are you! What brings you out here?” 

“Oh, we just had some meetings today,” she said, standing so she was on your level, looking a little star struck. 

“Yeah?” You smiled. “Is Catherine here? In talks for another role? I’m not surprised if she is, she’s very talented.” 

“Kind of,” Margie said. “Henry Wilde said he wanted to meet her, can you believe that? She’s in with him right now, we’re just…” 

Joel felt you stiffen, watched the smile slip off your face. 

“She’s with him now?” You asked, all the warmth gone from your voice. “Alone?” 

Margie’s face fell, too. 

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, she is, what…” 

You and Quinn exchanged a quick look. 

“Go,” she said and you gave Joel a look, almost pleading, before starting toward another door off the lobby. 

Joel followed at your heels. In any other circumstance, he’d have stopped you, pulled you back and demanded to know what the hell it was you thought you were doing but he had a feeling about this, one that made his stomach turn. 

You shoved the door open and the secretary jumped to her feet, her eyes wide, you not even slowing down as you stalked past her. 

“Mr. Wilde is busy right now,” she said. “You can’t just…” 

“Oh I bet he is,” you said, going to the other door and giving it a sharp shove. It didn’t budge. 

“Like I said,” the secretary said again, sharper this time and standing next to you and Joel. “Mr. Wilde is in a meeting and is not to be disturbed.” 

“Oh, I think I can disturb him all I want,” you said, stepping back from the door and looking to Joel. “Do me a favor and open that for me, would you?” 

There was something about the look in your eyes, something sharp and earnest and vulnerable, that made him just obey, bracing his shoulder and forcing the door open with a crack. 

He stumbled into the room, a huge office with floor to ceiling windows along the back with a desk in the middle of them. Wilde’s head shot up and Catherine jumped from her seat opposite him, her eyes wide. 

“What the…” 

“Henry!” You swept in behind Joel, back straight and head high, something almost intimidating about you when you did. Joel followed close behind you and you stopped next to Catherine’s chair. “Been a while.” 

Joel watched the man behind the desk, ready to move for him, but he just shook his head a little before getting to his feet. 

“Too long,” he said. 

“Mr. Wilde,” the secretary ran in, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry, I tried to stop them, but…” 

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “Why don’t you take Miss Ford here back to her mother and her agent, we were just finishing up anyway. Give us some space to chat, would you?” 

“Of course,” she said. “Miss Ford, why don’t you come with me?” 

“But…” Catherine looked between you and Wilde. Your eyes were raking over her, again and again, like you were looking for something. 

“It was lovely to chat with you,” Wilde said. “I’ll be in touch.” 

“Go see your mom,” you said, a tight smile on your face that didn’t reach your eyes. “Stick close with her, OK?” 

“OK,” she said cautiously, watching you for a moment before going to the secretary and doing as she was told.

You watched Catherine and the secretary leave, waiting until you heard the outer office door close before turning your attention back to Wilde. 

“That was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” He asked, coming around his desk and standing close enough to you that it made Joel stiffen. “You know if you want to see me all you have to do is ask.” 

“You and I both know that I want absolutely nothing to do with you,” you snapped, your voice so much sharper than Joel was used to hearing it when you spoke to anyone else. Even when you were harsh with him, there was an undercurrent of your typical teasing edge to it or, at least, hurt. This was hateful, pure vitriol, and it felt earned.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true at all,” he smirked. “Why else would you come bursting in here?” 

“Because I am not about to let you sink your fangs into that little girl,” you said through gritted teeth, eyes flashing. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Yes you do,” you said. “You know exactly what I mean. I know exactly who you are, Henry. I know exactly what you do and you will not do it to that girl, do you understand me?” 

“I think you forget which of us is in charge here,” he said, his face shifting. He wasn’t amused anymore, he was angry. Joel stiffened. “Maybe you need a reminder but I fucking own you, sweetheart.” 

“Not anymore you don’t,” you said, holding your ground. 

“Yes, I do,” he said. “You’d be nothing without me and I could fucking bury you without even trying…” 

“Could you?” You cut him off. “Because I remember you trying that before and here I am, the most bankable fucking star in this goddamn town. You think I’d just disappear quietly? That you can intimidate me? I’m not a kid you can push around anymore, Henry, I’m not a fucking Barbie you can play dress up with I’m an entire goddamn industry and I will burn you to the fucking ground if you lay a finger on that girl.” 

“You couldn’t shove me out before,” he sneered. “Do you really think you could do it now? Some stupid girl who’s barely got a fucking high school diploma and you think you can push me around? I could buy and sell you 100 times over, sweetheart, and…” 

“And no one outside this fucking city knows your name,” you said, chin out. “Go after her and I will eviscerate you in the press, I’ll spill all your dirtiest little secrets.” 

“And take yourself down with me?” He asked, brows raised. “I don’t think so.” 

“What’s that they say about a woman scorned?” You asked. “Don’t try me, Henry. The entire world cares what I have to say. Do you think they give a shit about some old man who sits behind a desk?” 

He just narrowed his eyes at you and you smirked. 

“That’s what I thought,” you said. “She’s under my protection, understood? You will stay the fuck away from her or you’ll find out just how far I’m willing to go. And I hear about you taking your little one on one meetings with other girls? I will burn you down.” 

You turned to leave but Wilde grabbed your arm, yanking you back hard enough that it made you stumble and something inside Joel snapped. 

He moved quickly, putting his body between you and the other man. Wilde’s eyes went wide and Joel grabbed his arm, wrenching it away from yours before shoving him back. 

“Keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself,” Joel growled, pressing in closer to the man, forcing him to back up until he was pressed against the window. 

He watched Wilde’s expression shift from shock to righteous indignation. 

“You don’t know who you’re messing with, son,” he said. “I recommend you step back and let your client and myself handle this.” 

“You put a hand on her,” Joel said, the strangely foreign yet familiar heat of rage roiling beneath his skin. He had to fight to not put this fucker through the window. “My job to take that hand off. Whether it’s just off her or off you, too, is your choice.” 

“I pay your fucking salary,” he tried to shove Joel and failed, his hands all but bouncing off Joel’s chest in a way that would be comical if Joel wasn’t so ready to put him in the ground. Joel shoved his arm into Wilde’s throat, pinning him to the window. 

“Pretty sure it ain’t your name on my goddamn check,” Joel said. “And even if it were, I’m paid to keep her safe from threats. You’re a threat. Try that shit again and you’ll see just why I got the job I do.” 

Joel stepped back, letting the other man stumble forward before he turned to look at you. 

“You alright?” He asked. You nodded once, your hand covering your elbow where Wilde’s hand had just been. “Good. You done here?” 

“Yeah,” you said, looking at Wilde as he straightened his blazer. “I’m done.” 

Joel just gave you a nod and he put his hand on the small of your back as you headed back toward the lobby. 

The second you were out the door, your breathing picked up, panicked and trembling. 

“You’re OK,” Joel said quietly, guiding you quickly for the elevator and looking back over his shoulder to make sure Wilde wasn’t following. “Just keep moving, I’ve got you.” 

You nodded quickly and Joel pushed the call button, thankful the elevator doors opened almost immediately. He ushered you inside and pushed the button for the ground floor but, as soon as it started to move he pulled the emergency stop and turned to face you, your eyes wide, hands trembling. 

“What…” your voice trailed off, breaths still coming in scared little pants. 

“Think you’re having a panic attack,” Joel said. “Or somethin’ like it, anyway. Bought us some time so none of those assholes see it happening, just take a deep breath for me Siren, alright?” 

You nodded quickly and closed your eyes, taking a shuddering but deep breath. 

“There you go,” he said gently. “You’re doing good baby, hold that for a second.” 

You nodded, clenching your eyes shut tighter but obeying all the same. Joel counted for a few seconds. 

“Alright, let it out nice and slow,” he said. “Focus on it, get all the air out.” 

You obeyed, not shaking quite as badly now. 

“Good,” he said when you finished. “Again, in, deep and slow.” 

He guided you through it a few more times until your trembling stilled and your eyes opened again, looking at him all open and honest. 

“You OK?” He asked, reaching out and cupping your cheek before he could stop himself. You nodded into his palm. “Ready to see other people?” 

“Yeah,” you said, taking a deep breath again. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

“You got any other meetings today?” Joel asked gently. 

“Um,” you closed your eyes for a moment, brows knitting together in concentration before you opened them again. “Just Quinn and Leo but…” 

“Think they’ll let you cancel?” Joel asked. His hand was still on your skin and his heart was racing. “So we can get you home?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “Yeah, Quinn will understand, she… she knows.” 

“OK,” Joel said. He knew he should take his hand back but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Your eyes stayed locked on his and he felt a pull at the root of him, a drive to bring your body against his own and press his lips to yours. He tried to shake that feeling as you leaned into him but he couldn’t, he just forced himself to stand stock still as you moved to be against him, your face tucking below his chin and burying in his shirt. He moved slowly, cautiously, to hold you, your body warm and soft against him. Joel cradled you there, focusing on you, trying to ignore the feeling that you weren’t quite close enough. 

After what felt like no time at all you stepped back, giving your head a small shake and taking another deep breath. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, staring at his chest instead of really looking at him. “You didn’t have to do that and… thank you.” 

“Sure,” Joel said gruffly before reaching around you to start the elevator again. 

By the time the two of you reached the ground floor, you looked like yourself again, a sense of power in you when the doors slid open. Quinn was waiting for you, looking you up and down. 

“All good?” She asked. 

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Catherine make it down OK?” 

“Yeah,” Quinn nodded. “We’ve got her, she’s fine.” 

“Good,” you said. “Are they still here?” 

“No,” Quinn said. “I sent them home…” 

“What did you say?” You frowned, brows drawing together. 

“Nothing extreme,” Quinn said quickly, her eyes darting to Joel. “I told Margie to never let Catherine take a meeting alone, ever. She’s talented, there are a lot of people who might want to not give her what’s she’s due, she needs to have representation.” 

“Good,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “OK. If it’s alright with you, can we push our…” 

“Of course,” Quinn said quickly. “I’ll talk to Leo. You get home, take a hot bath, just… take it easy. I’ll see you in the morning, alright?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled tightly at her before pulling her in for a hug. “Thank you.” 

You were silent on the drive home, staring determinedly out the window, your hand over your mouth the entire way, the presence of the driver forcing him to bite his tongue. When you got there, you didn’t wait for Joel to come around and open your door, instead jumping out the second the car stopped and, normally, he’d yell at you for that. It was reckless and stupid and your total lack of care for your own safety drove him insane but, this time, he just followed after you. 

“Hey,” he said gently once you were both inside. 

“Thanks for your help, Joel,” you said, rushing past him you toward your room. “I appreciate it.” 

He sighed, watching you leave, wishing there was something he could do to help you even if he didn’t fully understand what he wanted to help you with. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to hide in his room the way he so often did where you were involved. Instead, he hovered in the main part of the house, hoping that you’d come out. 

He tried to tell himself it was because he needed to know if you were alright for professional purposes. The convention was tomorrow. If you weren’t going, he’d need to know. If you were, he’d need to know how likely it was that you’d do something reckless, whether or not you’d remember emergency procedure, if you would pay close enough attention to know when something odd happened. That was an acceptable reason for his concern. Not that he could admit the real one even to himself. 

It was late when he started debating stretching out on the couch so he would hear you if you got up in the night when you appeared, in an oversized robe and bare feet and you startled then when you saw him. There was something keenly vulnerable about you like this, an odd intimacy in your dewy skin and open expression. 

“Joel,” you said quietly, your hand covering your heart. “Sorry, I…” 

“You really apologizing for being in your own house?” He asked, brows raised. 

You smiled a little and laughed once. 

“I guess so,” you said, crossing your arms, looking a little more like yourself when you did. “You’re up late.” 

He shrugged. 

“So are you.” 

“Yeah, well…” you looked down at your feet for a moment. “I was going to eat something…” 

“It alright if I join you?” He asked before he could stop himself. 

“Of course,” you said, meeting his eyes and giving him a tight smile. 

He trailed behind you to the kitchen and worked silently alongside you, taking your unspoken direction as you pulled deli meat and cheese and vegetables out of the fridge, piling them on the counter. He even followed you to the pantry, where you got out bread and chips and then froze, a bag dangling from your hand. You were staring at your Oscar where it still sat from the last time you were in town, tucked away at the back of a shelf. 

“C’mon,” Joel said, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder and you let him guide you back to the counter. 

He watched you out of the corner of his eye as you made a sandwich, almost overly focused on the process of spreading mustard on bread and layering it with turkey and lettuce and sliced tomato. When you were done, you put some carrots on your plate, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat at the bar. But you just stared down at your plate more than anything else, pushing a carrot from side to side and watching it roll. Joel finished making his sandwich and sat beside you. He took a bite - more out of pretense than anything else - before finally looking at you. 

“Wanna talk about it,” he said more than asked. 

“Not especially,” you replied, pushing the carrot again, watching it wobble on the china. 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“Meant what I said when I told you I’d protect you, even from him,” Joel said eventually. 

You stared at the plate. 

“I know,” you said. 

“Helps when I know what I’m protecting you from,” he said. 

You looked at him then, with that sharp and exacting gaze of yours, like you were seeing through everything to the core of him. All the walls that had built up after the loss of his child, all the protection he’d put into place the first time he met you, all of it meant nothing now. 

You looked down at your plate again, your hands drawing into tight fists, the flesh straining over the bone of your knuckles. 

“Everything they say about me is true,” you said, your voice thick. 

Joel frowned. 

“What do…” 

“That I fucked my way to the top,” you said. “That I wouldn’t be where I was if I didn’t spread my fucking legs, it’s all true.” 

Joel was silent, his jaw clenched tight and you laughed bitterly. 

“It’s not because I wanted to,” you said, still staring at your food. “You can judge me all you want, I don’t care, but I didn’t have much choice. I owed a lot of people a lot of money and the only way I could get the job that would pay me enough to take care of it was…” 

Your voice trailed off and Joel frowned. 

“Owed…” he paused. “Do you mean when… when you were a kid, when your mother…” 

“Yeah,” you said, clenching your fist tighter, and Joel’s stomach turned. You finally looked at him then, your eyes wide, a desperate, pleading edge to them. “I made a trade. I did what I had to do. But I know what it’s like to be a teenaged girl in a world full of men and I know what it’s like when the only bargaining chip you have is between your thighs and I know what it’s like to be backed into a fucking corner by Henry fucking Wilde and I will not let that happen to that girl, I don’t care if it’s the last thing I fucking do.” 

“Did you tell anybody?” Joel asked weakly, searching your face. 

“Who was there to tell?” You asked, brows raised. “I didn’t even fully understand what happened until years later, after we dated because I was stupid enough to pretend like there was something romantic about it. I kept telling myself that he must have really loved me to have wanted me then. But really all he wanted was someone young, someone he could control and when I stopped letting him control me after the Oscars… When we broke up I very famously fucked half of Hollywood while I got dropped by my manager and my agent and no one would touch me with a 10-foot-pole because he controlled all of it, they all answered to him. It would have been my word against his, the impulsive, entitled starlet crashing out because her powerful boyfriend broke up with her. No one would have believed me.

“If it wasn’t for Quinn just getting started and clawing her way up from nothing and desperate to take on a client, I never would have worked again. No one would represent me, no one wanted to work with me. She got me Siren and I took a lot of shit on that fucking job but it was a job. It helped me stay relevant while everything else blew over. It’s not like I could do anything else because Henry was right about that, too. It’s not like I went to college, the degree I have barely even counts as a high school diploma. I’m not sure I could have gotten a job at McDonalds back then. This is all I know how to do.” 

You looked back at your plate and took a deep, shaky breath. 

“I hate that I put Catherine in his orbit. I hate that he’s on this fucking movie,” you said softly. “I hate having to answer to him again. I have a lot more power now than I did before but… He’s right. He owns me.” 

“No, he doesn’t,” Joel said and you looked at him. “He can want to all he damn well pleases but that don’t make it true. May not have known you very long but I know this much about you: No one owns you but you.” 

You laughed a little and sighed. 

“He must have something on me that I’m forgetting about,” you said. “Something in his back pocket that he’s ready to make public and burn me down. I don’t think he will now that he’s producing Savage Starlight - at least not right this minute - but just the thought that he’s sitting there, ready to destroy my life…” 

Joel shrugged. 

“Fuck ‘em,” he said. You frowned at him. “It’d be shit but you’d have Ellie and Elise and…” He trailed off. “You’d have the shit that matters is what I’m saying. And if that fucker ever touches you again, I’m gonna put him on his ass.” 

You smiled, laughing darkly, before sighing and leaning into him, catching him off guard. You were between his legs, your head nuzzled into his shoulder, the warmth of your breath on his throat. He swallowed, a knot in his throat, and put his arms around you. 

“I think you were brave for doin’ what you did,” he said quietly. “Catherine… she’s lucky she has you. I’m sorry you didn’t have that when you were her age. You deserved better than you got.” 

“Thanks,” you said softly. “That… that means a lot.” 

He held you like that for a while before you sat up from him, taking a drink of your water, and Joel watched for a moment as you took a bite of your sandwich before he, eventually, ate alongside you in silence. When you were done, you went to put your dish in the dishwasher but he stopped you. 

“I got it,” he said and you frowned. “You had a shit day. I can… S’fine.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled tightly at him. “I… Thanks for not… Thanks for treating me like a person about it. Not everyone would.” 

He just nodded slowly. 

“Course. See you in the morning, Siren.” 

“See you in the morning, Big Miller.” 

He watched you go and sat there on his own in silence, trying not to linger on what you’d told him. He cleaned up your kitchen and, before going to his room, he went to the pantry and picked up your Oscar. He had to do something to take care of you, he couldn’t help it. The trophy was heavy in his hand and he carried it to his room, tucking it at the back of the closet where he could protect you from having to see it again. 

A/N: Joel and Siren are getting closer! If Joel's not careful he's going to realize that she's a real person he's got feelings for and not some ethereal being who is so far out of reach she may as well be an alien and who KNOWS what'll happen then 👀

Thank you for reading! I hope you're enjoying reading these two as much as I've enjoyed writing 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 @phry-k @sunnytuliptime

[stvrnzcherries]

› WHEELS ON THE BUS

m. sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: You and Matt have always been best friends, you never felt something else but an incident while you both were in a road trip together might change that.

warnings: soft dom!matt, smut, pet names, use of y/n, foreplay, p in v, degrading kink, sort of breeding kink, edging, bulging, swearing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don't).

word count: 3.8k

a/n: After MONTHS of being a lazy ass and also after a TIGHTT week of anxiety, I’m back and better than ever 🤍 expect more coming soon, I appreciate y’all.

Based on this request!

The cold breeze tingled Matt’s skin, sending shivers down his spine as he kept piling up everyone’s bags inside the car truck, the blue hour of the sky created this dark yet comforting panoramic view of it.

A voice in the distance caught his attention “Wait up!” You taunt, running down to your best friend as a heavy bag carried behind you. You agreed a few days ago to go on this trip with Matt and his family since he was practically begging you to spend an entire week with him; even though he knew you hated the beach, you hated feeling sticky or feeling a singular drop of sweat on your skin, being in heated places was a thing that always drove you to the edge and you would get in a bad mood the whole day because of it.

It was just too excruciating, but you accepted just because your best friend didn't want to spend an entire week without you yet he liked seeing you suffer since he had always known your hatred towards the beach.

“Here ya go,” You said as you lifted the bag with all the strength you had and handed it to Matt, he just looked at you, a cocky smile forming on his lips as he placed your bag on the last spot in the trunk. “You excited?” Matt asked, closing the trunk before his eyes returned to bore into yours waiting for an answer, “If you mean I'm excited about torturing myself an entire week on the beach, then yeah.” You replied sarcastically gaining a chuckle from him, “It’ll be fun, I promise.” He said, patting your head gently.

“I highly doubt that being in the hottest weather ever is fun, Matthew.” You said, sticking your tongue out, he just chuckled and messed your hair a bit, his hand gently moving to cup your cheek as he pinched it delicately, “Thank you for coming either way.” He smiled gently and you returned it.

The eye contact lasted for a few seconds before the lousy voice of Chris caught each other’s attention, you both turned around to see him walking towards you “Time to hit the road!” He says with a big smile as he places his arm around you, he looks at Matt and then at me, “Are you guys ready?” He asked to which you replied with, “Heck yeah! Let’s hit the road!” A bright smile smeared your face as you, Matt, and Chris made your way to the backseats.

When Chris stopped taking hold of you to go to the other side of the car you were left with Matt inside the car and his face giving slight concern. “What’s wrong?” You ask furrowing your brows slightly.

That is when you realize what it was, the backseat had no space left for you, and neither Matt nor you knew what to do, “Fuck.” He muttered to himself looking back to where his brothers were situated and back to you with an awkward face.

Matt thinks for a second before parting his lips to let out the sentence, “You could sit on my lap.” His palm softly patted his lap as he looked at you with a sly smile.

Your lips pursed into a thin line, the awkwardness getting the best of you as you got into the car and carefully down your weight on your best friend’s lap. To which he just placed his hands around your waist and gently sat you down on his lap. “Relax, you’re not heavy at all.” He whispers in your ear as the car door closes.

You looked back at him and smiled shyly, trying to hide the fact that he was caressing the sides of your hips with his thumbs.

The first two hours of the road were completely normal, you and the triplets had a karaoke session for half an hour, and the rest was to talk about what you guys wanted to do as soon as you arrived and enjoy some snacks. But now you guys were only an hour away from the beach house that the triplet's parents rented.

Nick and Chris had fallen asleep for a few minutes and you could also feel your eyes heaving from the energy you wasted the first two hours throughout the way, also the fact that you didn’t sleep that well last night. Matt on the other hand was with his headphones on the minute Chris and Nick closed their eyes.

You patted Matt’s lap to get his attention, you looked back at him as soon as you did that he took his headphones off “You okay? Need something?” He asked with slight concern.

“No, I’m fine, I was just wondering if I could get comfortable so I can sleep while we get there.” You said with a little smile plastered on your face as he nodded.

Matt spread his legs slightly so you could have more space to get as comfortable as possible, you rocked your hips a little to the sides so your lower back could be resting on Matt’s chest level or closer to it, and you rested your head on his shoulder as he put his headphones back on.

Your eyes closed so easily, and your mind drifted to your dreams so swiftly that you couldn’t even imagine.

Thirty minutes left inside the car, you were still in the embrace of Matt’s arms, your position shifting once in a while.

And how clueless of Matt for not thinking how touch-deprived he is, every time you switched your position while your slept you would move your hips or straddle his lap, making his dick twitch against his pants.

His breathing getting heavier, and his body was shaking trying to contain the pure excitement that just the smallest friction could do to him. He felt so guilty for his body reacting and finding pleasure in something meaningless; something completely common and normal.

He closed his eyes, trying to contain these feelings towards you, towards your body to stop the erection that he sooner or later would have to fix all by himself.

And also wish he could arrive as fast as he could to the fucking beach house.

After what seemed like a good twenty minutes of sleep, you finally opened your eyes carefully, trying not to get blinded by the rays of sun that were passing through the window, the change of scenery makes your stomach flutter with joy as you see the ocean peek through the reliefs of the street.

You turned your head to peek at your best friend who seemed to be sleeping, his dark circles showing off a little bit more with this new change of lighting that the car has. You smiled to yourself as you saw your best friend opening his eyes quickly when he felt your gaze on him. “Did you get to sleep for a bit?” You asked, your throat was dry and raspy, nonetheless, a good cup of water could fix it as soon as you guys arrived at the beach house you were staying in.

Matt nodded, his eyes looking away from yours as he changed his position a little, making your weight lift a little, a small poking sensation in your inner thigh as he did this action. Something felt off in your surface.

You looked down, scanning Matt’s lap to check if he had something in his pockets that could make this sudden change in position make you slightly uncomfortable.

Your eyes widened as you took a glance of what was the strange object poking your inner thigh, it wasn’t just an object it was more of a certain body part. You looked away in shame, forcing yourself to stare at the blankly looking headrest in front of you, your stomach feeling fluttered as you tried to stop thinking about what you just witnessed.

The beach house was beautiful outside, it was a two-story victorian summer house, with a small front porch with two wooden chairs and a tiny round wooden coffee table, the breeze hugging your skin nicely, everything seemed to be perfect, the weather in Long Island was just the perfect balance of not too warm and not too cold, it definitely felt like the summer vibes were there.

As you entered the house, your eyes were amazed by the interior, the walls were covered in this beautiful blueish floral wallpaper, the couches looked like they some sort of English sofas, and a small chimney facing a large path to the back porch of the house, the stairs that lead to the way to the different rooms where you would be staying in for the next week.

Matt steps beside you, glancing around the place, “Wanna share a room?” He asked nonchalantly as he looked at you, taking in all of your factions, you looked back at him “I thought you and Chris agreed on sharing the same room, though?” You retorted.

Matt brushed the strands of hair blocking his view, “Yeah, I thought so too until he decided that he now wants to share a room with Nick.” He sighed, “I think I’m going to go upstairs and shower and then take a nap, I feel like I haven’t slept in years.”

You nodded “Alright, I’ll catch you later.” You replied, giving a sly smile to him as he walked upstairs and disappeared out of your sight. Things have gotten awkward since you discovered the hard-rock erection he had back in the entirety of the ride. You didn’t say a word but interacting with him or even just looking at Matt made you nervous somehow.

Your mind kept racing with the thought of seeing his body react that way to you, does this mean he feels turned on by you? Should you do something about it?

A few minutes had passed and you explored the rest of the house already, you carried your bag in your left hand as you went upstairs, a room door slightly opened and a dim light reflected on the inside of it. You pushed the door gently, and the first thing you heard was the shower running down, Matt’s bag half-opened in the bed, you tossed yours to the other side, sitting down beside it, your head had a pounding headache that you couldn’t make it stop.

Scanning the room, you see the bathroom door halfway opened, the fog from the steaming water escaping through it, you could see Matt, his silhouette revealing the way his forehead was resting on the tiled wall of the shower, the water running down his back and cascading through his hair, his hands rubbing his face exhaustingly as he sighed in pure relief.

The way his muscles flexed each time he brushed his hair back was enough to make you soaking wet in your panties. You stood up, your steps closer and carefully just to get a better view of his silhouette.

You were there, your hand opening the door more, the squeaking sound blowing your cover because Matt looked right at you in the eye, the eye contact holding on for what seemed like an eternity. You shut the door and ran down to sit back on the bed.

Would it be worth it to risk it all?

Dawn arrives, you've been playing with Nick and Chris UNO matches for what seems like an hour now on the back porch of the residence, every match Nick either complained or Chris would make a mess and you guys would have to play all over again, that was until Nick threw a tantrum over him and they both went to their separate ways inside the house.

You were lying now on the couch of the living room, bored filling your senses, your phone not even making an effort to entertain you at all. You heard steps coming from the staircase, as you looked up you saw Matt, his hair was still a little wet and he looked like a brand new person in comparison to how he looked a couple of hours ago. “Hey, I’m going to drive around town, I was wondering if you would like to come with me?”

You stood up from the couch, “Sure! I was getting bored, so.” You both walked towards the front door, Matt opening it for you.

The town was almost like a sort of ghost town, with a few people walking down the sidewalk, and making their way to Amangasett beach. The lamp posts illuminated around with a tenuous yellowish light, the night sky revealing a pale moonlight. “Wanna go for a swim?” Matt’s voice takes you out of your trance.

“Yeah, I don't see why not.” You replied with a small smile as you moved to his seat and gave him a side hug, to which he just chuckled and kept his eyes on the road.

Matt parked the car in an almost empty zone at the beach, the place seemed clear of big crowds, just a few couples sitting by the edge of the ocean but no one else. As you got out of the car you took off your shirt and shorts quickly, running down to the ocean as Matt followed your pace, the both of you giggling.

Your body trembled when your toes grazed lightly on the water, the adrenaline and tingling sensation making your heart flutter anxiously, you kept sinking your body until half of your abdomen was fully covered by the ocean, you looked at the moon taking in the sight of it until you felt cold fingertips touch your lower back. “I’m glad you came with us,” Matt said, his voice sounding so distant yet it had a hint of something else you couldn't fully recognize.

He spins you around by grabbing your waist, your eyes meeting his as he pulls you closer, your breaths mixing with each other’s as he takes the sight of your face, his hands still positioned on your lower back. His eyes shone brighter than ever before. “I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?” You looked for a split second at Matt’s lips, his tongue sticking out to lick the inner corners of his lips before parting them.

“Yeah, friends…” He breathed out, his words laced with that unknown feeling you can’t recognize, his eyes giving a glint of lust as he looked at your lips.

Your mind drifts to the moment you both are in the car, his hard rock erection making you question whether it’s worth it to risk the friendship or pretend like it was a little accident, even though it wasn't little at all.

Or the shower incident, nothing of what happened today was by accident, there was not even a chance that it was.

Your attention gets drawn by his breath getting closer to your ear, his voice carefully whispering his words “What you thinking ‘bout?”

You licked your lips, your voice trembling and your words slipping out of your mouth sloppily “Nothing…w-why?” your lips pressing together as his breath reached down your jawline, his lips grazing the fine line of it teasingly, a low dark chuckle getting out of his mouth when he saw you shiver by the smallest contact.

“Remembering what you saw in the bathroom, hm?” His lips pressed tentatively, traveling from your jawline to your neck, you titled your head to the side to grant him more access, his hand sneaking down to grab your throat delicately as he kept abusing your sweet spots. His other hand caresses your waist.

“I don’t have a clue of what you’re talking about…” You breathed out, breathless whimpers coming out of your mouth as Matt kept doing his attack all over your throat, leaving hickeys and wet kisses all over. He hums, Matt’s vibrant voice coursing through your body “Really? How funny, considering you even tried to be sneaky about it.” He says as he returns to kissing your jawline, then your chin, and then he gets to your lips, tempting you to make the move, his teeth biting your lower lip gently.

“Don’t act so innocent now, you were sneaky about your little accident back in the car too.” Your words shut out with such confidence, you looked at him, your eyes piercing his as you took in his reaction of pure shock; his lips parted and that was the chance you decided to get to kiss him. The both of you synchronized perfectly as if your lips were meant to be for his.

Your hands went directly to his chest, your fingertips doing small circles around his collarbone as he pulled you closer by your waist. Your noses were touching at this point and the kiss got more intense, the both of you roaming your hands all over each other’s bodies.

You were now lying down on the backseat of the car, your hand gripping Matt’s hand as he sucked your right nipple, his other hand playing with the left one, your back arched off the seat and your legs were wide open, fully unclothed now in the secluded space that he decided to take you to. Your eyes closed as you let the overwhelming pleasure take control of your body, his tongue swirling around your nipple, your breathless whimpers making Matt get harder beneath you with each passing second.

His kisses trailed to your belly, kissing it intently “I’m going to stuff this beautiful body of yours with my babies” A dark glint on his eyes as he ascended back to your face to kiss you. His hand traveled down to where your folds were, his fingertips adding pressure as he moved them in circles, causing you to gasp at the sudden wave of pleasure you were experiencing. Your hands flew to Matt’s biceps, your nails burying deep inside his skin as he kept getting you all worked up.

His lips rushed to kiss yours, this time more desperate and sloppier than ever as he kept adding more pressure on your sensitive nub, your moans getting louder as the knot in your stomach gets stronger. “m’ god” You babbled between kisses, your eyes closed as you take in all of the ecstasy.

“So close…” You breathed out, the knot snapping any second.

Then suddenly, the feeling stopped, completely gone.

You opened your eyes, Matt’s looking at you with a devious expression as he untied the lace from his shorts, the bulge of his dick very visible even though you are in an almost dark place. “What?” He asked, his head tilting to the side, a low chuckle as he spoke, “Wanted to finish?” You nodded, the desperation clear.

“Why would I let you finish if we haven’t even started? Hm?” He crawled back to be face to face with you, you felt his tip grazing your folds unintentionally, “Spread those legs wider for me, m’kay?” He said in a low voice, almost a whisper.

The desperation and adrenaline fuels your body, your legs spread wider enough to give him space between you, he positioned his tip in your entrance, edging you out even more until you had to practically beg to him. “Matt, please—“ you huff out at the undying desperation that your body was craving.

“Aw, look who’s getting frustrated now…” He coos, his left hand pumping his dick slightly before he slammed into you without warning, his movements frantic and hard, your head hitting the door slightly each time he pounded back inside you.

Your hands flew back to his biceps, gripping onto them for dear life as erratic moans emitted out of your mouth, his pace was nowhere close to being steady, it was sloppier as if he was already on the verge of getting on his own high too.

The tip of his cock was hitting that sweet spot of yours perfectly, making you salivate due to the incredible amount of intoxicating pleasure you were given in twenty minutes. Your mind felt fuzzy, this kind of pleasure was something that you’d stopped experiencing a long ago, your eyes crossing and shutting as you felt that sweet sensation of being closer, Matt abusing that spot deep inside you over and over again.

You couldn't even remember the last time sex felt this good, and never in a million years, you would’ve thought that your best friend would be the one to achieve that with you. Your thoughts stopped as soon as you felt his thumb on your tongue, indicating for you to suck it which you didn’t hesitate to be asked twice.

Your tongue swirled all over his thumb like a lollipop, getting it all wet as you felt the grunts and whines from Matt, the grip his other hand had on your hip getting tighter within two minutes. His pace not slowing down but getting ten times faster than it already was, the car shaking and your hands gripping the door to hold onto dear life.

Pornographic moans emitted out of your mouth as you felt that tight knot forming once again and getting closer and closer to snapping ferociously, your hand gripping tightly onto the seat as your eyes closed.

Matt’s placed his hand to grasp your chin, forcing you to look at him. “All that teasing to get dumb fucked by me?” He said, his voice losing power from time to time.

snap.

Your juices spurt all over the seat and coated Matt’s dick in a thin, sheer coat of hot cum. Moans emitted out of your mouth as your grip on the headrests of the car loosened up due to the lack of strength that your body was capable of holding up. Your legs are all wobbly and your muscles are sore from all the containment that they did.

At this point your mind was fuzzy, too dumb fucked to acknowledge that the well-known knot snapped already, your body too weak to keep upholding Matt’s pace as he kept pumping in and out constantly.

Not too long after, Matt came to his release too. Your juices and his combined deep inside you, he pulled out of you as he admired the conjoined trail of juices coating his shaft. His left hand immediately went deep inside you, making sure his hot seed was ‘secured’. He pulled his fingers out, a popping sound as he did so, and cleaned them off easily, admiring the rest of your body, a gleam on his eyes reflecting the lustful expression of being satisfied enough.

He pulled you close to his body, sitting you straight up as you both recovered, Matt trailing kisses all over your face and repeatedly saying “M’ love you” as he caressed your hair with ease.

Both of your chests were going up and down irregularly, trying to stabilize each other’s breathing back to normality.

Matt’s eyes shifted around the car, taking a look at the foggy windows, a sly smile smearing all over his face as he traced with one of his fingers the foggy window in front of both of you, tracing the words.

‘We just fucked :)’

You finished reading what he traced on the window and chuckled weakly as Matt looked proudly at his ‘work of art’.

a/n: tysm for 600 followers, wtf I can’t believe we’re already 600 (Nick fic coming real soon as a 600 followers special). It’s funny how I can easily write shit about Chris or Nick but when it comes to Matt, this mf is the hardest person to ever write off 😭 love y’all

tag list: @sturniolossss @tillies33ssss @chrisloyalgf @alorsxsturn @sturnioloslurps @cindylcuwho @3mm4yung @chrissfavwh3re @blahbel668 @lov3bug @starsturns234 @junnniiieee07 @mstarniolo @sara2233445 @teenagetrash00 @mattsturnioloisbae @mbbsgf @thecynthh @braindead4l @freshsturns @lexisecretaccx @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi

[simmervlogs]

Grazia Trattoria

Hello Simmers, come and spend the day at the Grazia Trattoria! This is a family run business which operates as a restaurant, cafe and also includes an art studio upstairs.

Grazia Trattoria is a multilevel property which has been open for generations. It is well known for their rich nectar and panoramic ocean views of Tartosa. Not only is it a family run restaurant, it also has a cafe as well as a bakery which offers traditional coffee and fresh bread for all the locals and tourists. Whether you are here for a day or settling down in Tartosa, be sure to visit the art studio which offers daily art lessons. This property is a one of a kind in Tartosa and you will not be disappointed. 

Please note almost everything is CC and the items were not created by me! Please let me know if anything is missing, there were a lot of cc items! Dine out  (restaurant lot type, chefs station)  and Get together (Coffee machines, cafe lot type) required for function.

Please do support and directly download from all the creators mentioned! I have attached the CC folders too for convenience. I have decided to share the folders via Google drive for ease of access so please let me know if you have any tips or questions xx

Do check out my Tiktok, live almost everyday building!

INSTRUCTIONS

Please directly move all the files in CC zip folder to your Mods folder.

Please move  Tray files (Tray files folder) to your Tray folder (enable bb.moveobjects on).

Gallery ID-  SimmerVlogs (Enable CC)

TikTok- simmervlogs

Note-  I have placed this down in Tartosa- 20X20 lot

Thank you once again to all CC creators!

Download (Patreon)

[delirious-donna]

Bath Time Gone Wrong [Part One]

an: a huge thanks to @satorini for the prompt that produced this. Let's see if this goes anywhere... it sure has potential.

prompt: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: none, SFW

Series Masterlist | Part Two

You couldn’t believe your luck. Not only was your friend clearly loaded, they had immaculate taste as well. All of this you might never have discovered if it hadn’t been for a miscommunication that left you with no place to stay over spring break.

It would be wrong to blame your parents for forgetting that you would be coming home for the two week break, instead arranging for the family home to be renovated whilst they cruised to goodness knows where, but you still felt that stab of disappointment and hurt in your gut. One phone call to confirm dates would have fixed that, but no, what was done was done.

Instead, you found yourself in a penthouse apartment that your friend from college said you could use as it was currently sitting empty. Those were Karin’s exact words, “Don’t worry about it, the place is empty anyways. May as well make the most of it!”

Whistling through your teeth, you did a slow 360 spin of the entranceway. 

The moment your Uber had pulled up outside the building you had an inkling that the inside was going to be luxurious, and you were dead right. The penthouse apartment on the very top floor needed a code and a swipe of a keycard to access by elevator. Your fingers fumbled on the keypad in your nervous excitement, only blowing out a breath of relief when you began to move smoothly upward.

As the doors opened, you found that the apartment was almost entirely open plan with panoramic windows of the cityscape lining the length of the wall in front of you. “Well, fuck…”  

The decor wasn’t quite minimalist, there were too many home comforts to allow for that, but everything was clean lines and muted colour palettes. The sprawling couch scattered with one too many throw pillows, a basket of neatly folded blankets of every type of thickness tucked into the corner and a lush potted plant with long spiky green leaves all added that homely touch that true minimalist apartments lacked.

It was spacious but oddly welcoming with a rich scent that permeated the air, French coffee and freshly baked bread. You wondered if there was perhaps a housekeeper or someone that stopped by every few days to keep the place ticking over.

That thought was how you found yourself exploring deeper into the apartment, searching for an occupied room or some sign of life. There were no noises to be heard, no telltale signs that a terrified housekeeper might pop out any moment and scare the bejeezus out of you. What you did find was several seemingly unused bedrooms in different colour schemes and what you assumed was the master bedroom.

What a sight.

The bed dominated the majority of the room, a thick grey duvet adorned with pillows and a turned down fleece lined blanket on top. What kind of luxury lifestyle did Karin live that she had this kind of place stashed away, unused?

Perhaps you should have peeked inside the closets or the walk-in wardrobe at the very least, but you were drawn like the proverbial moth to a flame by the enticing peek of an en-suite bathroom.

Dumping your small wheelie suitcase and hold-all by the bed, you scurried towards the pristine black and white marble decorated room. It was safe to say you were giggling like an idiot, hands clapping together at the generously sized tub and did it have jets too? Oh my gosh, it did!

In your pure unfiltered joy, you found some jasmine scented bubble bath tucked away behind the bathroom mirror, completely overlooking the men’s razor and bottle of expensive cologne that sat beside it.

A bath would be exactly the thing to begin your new adventure. You could soak, shave your legs, listen to some music and contemplate what you could get up to with your two weeks here. Oh, takeout! You could order something super decadent and pretend that this was actually your place for a little while. 

The possibilities were endless. 

You set your phone up in the bathroom, finding a favourite playlist and blasting the music louder than you would have done back home. No one would mind, you were alone and the noise surely wouldn’t filter to any of the apartments below.

This was going to be an amazing spring break, you could feel it.

Kento was tired. What was new?

A weary hand passed over his face as he examined his reflection in the elevator mirror. Has he always looked this tired? Maybe.

He exhaled as the doors opened into his apartment, but only two steps forward told him that something was not right. Nothing had been touched or moved in the living area or kitchen, yet an unfamiliar scent mingled with the one he was used to. 

Slowly, he deposited his briefcase and shrugged out of his jacket to hang it in the closet by the front door. He kicked out of his too-tight shoes and two fingers loosened the knot of his tie whilst his frown deepened.

His home office was exactly as it should be. The same with his little gym studio. None of the unoccupied guest bedrooms were disturbed, including the one that Karin had long claimed as her own for when she visited once in a blue moon.

Had Karin decided to visit thinking that he’d be away on the business trip that was cancelled last minute? It would be just like her to do something like that, but he was certain she would have stayed away from his room—the master suite.

Now certain to find his baby sister, who was as far from being a baby than ever, somewhere within the walls of his home, he felt his temper bubble. He didn’t need to be disturbed during what was pitched to him as mandated paid time off.

Kento was already annoyed by the idea that was forced upon him earlier this afternoon, and it wasn’t until he reached his building did he begin to think perhaps it was a blessing. Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he had taken any vacation time. A week or so to unwind, maybe read for the first time in months, sample a new whisky imported from Scotland… 

The possibilities were endless.

He spied a small suitcase open on his bed, the contents a riotous jumble that made his head pound just to look at. A trail of clothing led from the bed to the bathroom door which stood slightly ajar. Perfumed steam escaped and his teeth grit together in irritation. Music played rather loudly in his opinion, a bright bubbly song with lyrics in a different language he couldn’t understand.

Did he dare to burst into the bathroom and scare the living daylights out of his darling little sister? The idea was tempting. The only downside being that he had no interest in mistakenly seeing her in some state of undress if she hadn’t yet made it into the bath. He would listen a little longer, wait until he was sure he wasn’t going to irreparably damage both his eyesight and his psyche before acting. 

Kento padded around the bed, pulling his tie off and throwing it on the pillow to deal with later. The top three buttons on his shirt unbuttoned easily and breathing became a little easier again. Not for the first time, his mood shifted again. It would be nice to see Karin, catch up and find out how school was going. There was never enough time during the holidays to really enjoy her company so maybe this was all working out for the best.

He was still going to give her the fright of her life though.

The sound of splashing reached his ears and he smiled. Memories of tormenting his little sister rose to the surface whilst he tiptoed silently towards the bathroom door. He could hear the sound of humming along to the music and he had to stifle a snort of laughter, singing was not her forte.

A strong hand gripped the edge of the door. Kento held his breath, preparing to yell. Silently, he counted to three and leapt inside.

“Boooo!”

You had never screamed so loud in your entire life. A man was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his features twisted in amusement but quickly shifting into sheer mortification.

Water sloshed over the side of the bath, bubbles going up your nose as you pushed your body low into the fragrant water. An intruder!

“Who the fuck are you?” You yelled indignantly, anger finally overcoming the terror ripping through your heart. Whoever he was, he was tall and incredibly pissed off. 

His blond hair fell into his eyes, a hand the size of a dustbin lid swiping it back only to highlight the furious scrunch of his eyebrows. Sharp hazel eyes swung between you and the wall, clearly unsure where to look. In other circumstances, you would have called him good-looking, handsome even but not when you were so very vulnerable.

He spoke, almost to himself. “You’re not Karin…” 

You knew that name, it was your friend’s name. This was her pl��Shit, this wasn’t her place. You could scream.

“I’m Nanami Kento, and you’re in my bath. Who are you?”

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"You are." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

To Daryl, you are different, you are special, you are everything. But when his jealousy over a "prank" from your friend leads to a misunderstanding you can't resolve, and an incident the next day that nearly costs you your life, it causes Daryl to have a huge revelation about his feelings for you.

@artsynana: heyy dear!! i was wondering if you could ever write something with some soft jealous daryl x reader at the prison era, btw i love the way you write daryl🥰

A/N: Hi love. First, sorry! I didn't know you had left a request :( but thank you so much for doing it. This is a little short and different :( and a little more dramatic, but I really hope you like it♥ And for your words, thank u again! I think I write Daryl a little bit off the character, but I guess it's because I picture him like that hehe

Daryl Dixon is not a possessive person, never, but he is not made of steel either, that’s why he’s unable to stop jealousy from creeping up on him.

The night is ending inside the prison, the heat of the day floating in the air, but the still warm weather seems to hang over Daryl almost in a suffocating way. As he continues to wait for his dinner, he has a panoramic view of you across the dining room, sitting in the long steel chair, elbows on the table, always accompanied by that pretty boy Sean, with his stupid green eyes and that stupid smile, following you ever since Daryl rescued his group from the governor.

And Daryl hates not being able to hate you for the senseless jealousy that you make him feel now, as he thought he did in the past.

Daryl hated ​​you for being fearless, like the afternoon you showed up to save his ass back in Atlanta, like a force of nature, like a fucking storm–sweeping away the little peace he managed to find at the end of the world, shaking his own with your magnetic presence. But he also hated how your strong gaze could rest, turning you into an angel when he could see the tenderness in your soft smile, and your dreamy eyes when things got a little bit better in that grey world.

The secret of his hate was because of your selfless, wild and free heart, and that fucking dimple that formed on your left cheek, so yeah, he fell hard for that, he fell hard for you. But no one knew about your relationship, everyone blind to those little displays of affection: the casual brush of your hands, the secret smiles, the way his hand rested on the side of your neck before he kissed you.

“You're like… staring much. Don't you think?" Carol chuckles beside him, making Daryl look away from you as he takes his plate. "Damn, pookie, you are not subtle at all."

She continues with the bland jokes; the same ones she’s been making since Carol caught the way Daryl looked at you.

"Shut up." He hisses, turning his attention back to the food.

But Carol is not ready to give up.

"I once read that when a feeling is silenced, bottled up or imprisoned, the eyes, the lover’s gazes scream everything."

Daryl frowns, confused.

"What the hell are ya talkin’ ‘bout?"

She chuckles, crossing her arms.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just saying that maybe you should start making it clear to everyone that (Y/N) is with you."

He clears his throat, but the heat on his cheeks burns more than the sun on that season.

"Ya knew?"

"No. You just told me." Carol turns around towards the pot to serve herself a plate, Daryl narrowing his eyes at her, even if she isn’t looking at him.

"But, uh... like what?" He asks after a few seconds, hoping that Carol will understand the question without him having to spell it out for her.

She shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe approach her not only when you two are alone.”

Carol smiles at Daryl, walking away to leave him with the weight of his thoughts.

Daryl Dixon is a strong man, to survive, to protect, but as a boy who grew tall but is still a boy on the inside, he feels lost with the feelings he keeps inside him, not knowing what to do with them. He had had casual encounters in bars, but was too drunk to even remember, to even care about them. But you are different, you are special, you are everything. That’s why, even with his heart hammering in his chest, Daryl walks over to the last table, eyes fixed on your profile, his sometimes noisy mind disappearing the rest as he sets his plate down on the table before sitting down next to you, ignoring the confused look from Sean, who was silent for a second in shock before resuming his story of a past life on his farm with the rest.

“The lake water is cold during that season…” He keeps talking, oblivious to the way you hold your breath when you feel Daryl's fingers on your lower back.

But out of nowhere, his hand begins to seek out the skin beneath, a light touch over the edge of your black t–shirt until he finds the warmth of your flesh. Your back arches slightly beneath his calloused fingers on your skin, but you try to control your body as your dirty thoughts begin to overflow.

The small group is so wrapped up in the funny anecdote that no one notices the way Daryl leans in close.

"Breathe, peach, ‘fore ya pass out."

His words are the jolt back to reality, and you let out a breath as you squint, your hand darting from your lap to his leg, only to pinch his skin over his pants with your fingers. As a reflex, his leg jumps slightly, but Daryl takes the attack with a smirk that is almost imperceptible to the rest of them, but not to you.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" Sean glances in your direction, catching your gaze and a confused expression that silently prompts him to repeat his question. "You told me you dated a guy who looked like me."

Confused, you clear your throat.

“Yeah. Uh, but we separated long before all this...”

Mary nods, a young woman who came with Sean’s group.

“Wow. He must have been really handsome. But did you love him, (Y/N)?”

Your skin feels cold again when Daryl's hand leaves your body, even if your skin feels boiling hot when the attention falls on you like the midday sun in that stifling season. As if someone had put their hand on your throat until it was blocked from air, your uncomfortable laughter comes out muffled, but you don’t answer before changing topics. But it's sad that after a short while, Daryl stands up to go to his own cell, his thoughts run wild about the jealousy he feels about that guy, thinking that there was someone who made you feel something when, for him, you were his first everything.

When dinner time is over and everyone returns to their cells, you find yourself timidly entering Daryl's cell only because his door was still open, but staying close to it. He’s lying on his back, eyes fixed on the arrow in his hands just to keep himself busy.

“Hey. Uh, can we talk?”

“’bout what?”

His voice is flat, not a single emotion in it.

“About what happened in the dining room with Sean.”

 “What ‘bout it?”

You shrug, even if he isn’t looking at you.

“Don’t know exactly, but I think I made you feel uncomfortable.”

Daryl scoffs.

“Ya didn't make me feel anythin’.”

His words form a lump in your throat, completely silencing the truth you were going to tell, just because your own anxious mind tells you that you don't make him feel anything, at all, like never, and that is painful.

“Okay, uh, I don’t want to force you to talk so… I guess I’m gonna go. Oh, we'll leave early tomorrow for the run, by the way.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You sigh, walking away.

But jealousy is an irrational force, but a force of nature that resembles a hurricane, or any destructive phenomenon inside a timid and fearful mind: that’s why when the early morning arrives and the first ray of sun shines on the horizon, Daryl decides to switch places with Glenn, just so he wouldn't be stuck with his thoughts of you in a car for hours.

However, the day grows tedious for him, even in the small details like the wind blowing dust into his face, or the way the walkers keep piling up against the fence, taking the place of the lifeless body when Daryl stabs his knife into their skulls. But before his ocean–blue eyes can see the car returning at a worrying speed, his ears can hear the horn, like a desperate call that makes his heart wake up frantically.

“Someone is hurt.” Carol tells him, a second before they start running towards the main fence.

Maggie and Rick are closer and they open the gates, the car raising tornadoes of dust until it stopped inside the prison. Michonne steps out of the passenger seat as Daryl and Carol arrive to meet her, Bob and Glenn following as she begins to narrate the horror story.

“… and one of those men was behind me, (Y/N) shot him but another stabbed her in the abdomen.”

The back door of the car is open, but like a roller coaster of emotions, Daryl’s heart is so up that it threatens to stop because of the fear, as if it stopped pumping blood to replace it with an infinite void. But he refuses to listen to the death whispering in his ear that you won’t make it as he carries you, arms under your shoulders and knees.

“Call Hershel!” He says, to whoever is faster as Daryl starts waking fast, because, even though he wants to run to catch the seconds that seem to slip away, your body feels as fragile as porcelain.

And it’s crazy, it’s wild the way Herself has to perform a surgery to control the bleeding on the same table where the night before your and his playful fingers had teased each other, minutes before ruining it all with your silence and his jealousy. But when it's all over and the madness has cleared like a thick fog, he finds himself sitting on the edge of your bed, taking in the way your closed eyelids make you look like you're just asleep and not unconscious.

“She will make up, Daryl.” Carol says softly, standing close to him. “It’s late, you should rest.”

He shakes his head.

“Nah. I’m stayin’ here with her. Don’ want her to be alone when she does.”

Carol nods, knowing perfectly nothing will change his mind.

“Okay, Pookie, I will come to check on you both in the morning.”

She kisses his forehead, but Daryl is too absent to notice as she leaves the room. The entire prison falls into a deep sleep, and Daryl can hear the almost imperceptible sound of your breathing fighting against the almost deafening silence of his world, telling him without words that you are there, and that you are not going anywhere. But after a while, Daryl lies down on his right side, still close to the edge of the bed to give you all the space you needed, but able to leave only that small space between his body and yours.

“Fuck… now I know I love ya, peach.” He whispers, shy and scared you can hear him even like that. “That seems to be the only answer to why I almost lost ma shit when I saw ya there… bleedin’ out. Jesus, ya would probably laugh if ya saw me here now scared to death like a damn child.” Daryl tries to laugh, a nervous little laugh that falls to a heavy sigh. “Please, wake up, okay? I promise I’ll be better.”

But since there is no answer from the other end, his words hang in the air for the rest of the night, even after Daryl falls asleep. However, as the sun begins to peek through one of the prison's tall windows one more time, your eyelids open slightly, the world in front of you blurring for an instant, until your scattered senses become one and focus on the pain pounding your abdomen.

But still, you turn your head slightly to the side when your peripheral vision catches a body beside yours, smiling weakly at the image before you. Daryl's hair covers part of his closed eyes, but his slight frown reflects his concern, even if you don't know that.

You raise your arm until your hand touches the skin of his face, soft flesh under your fingers.

“Daryl?” Your voice brings him back easily, walking him up from that terrifying dream as he sits up, his hand cupping the side of your face just to feel that you're actually awake.

"Ya okay, peach, ya okay."

“Am I? Since when I’m here?”

Daryl sighs, but he decides to mask his fear with humor, just because he feels like he can spill all his feelings for you in a single second.

“Jus' a day, but ya took yer sweet time to wake up, woman.”

“Sorry.”

You chuckle shyly, but his gaze turns soft.

“Nah. Don’t be, I’m jus’ so glad ya came back.” Concern allows him to smile slightly, before telling you that he's going to go find Hershel.

The examination lasts a few minutes, until you two are left alone, again.

“Daryl…” One more time, your voice pulls his eyes towards yours the moment he sits back down. “Sean was messing with you. You know? I was going to tell you about it that night before all this, but you didn’t want to listen and I didn’t want to push you to.”

Embarrassed, Daryl lowers his head a little bit, watching you through his long hair.

“M’ sorry, peach. I was jealous of ‘em and I ended up sayin’ the wrong shit again.”

Them.

“Daryl, that’s exactly what I was going to tell you that night. There was never another guy, Sean made up that story to get a reaction out of you because even he can see how much you want to kick his ass every time you see him coming." You chuckle. "Besides, he’s gay.”

Daryl blinks, confused like never in his life.

“He is?”

You nod.

“Yep, really gay, but don’t worry, Sean has a crush on Glenn because you look too intimidating for his like.” You want to laugh, but you can see his own shame sinking his heart heavily, feeling the pain and guilt for letting you go alone, because Daryl is a protector: that is in his nature.

And when things went wrong, that weight fell on his shoulders.

"Sorry, I think I screwed this thing between us."

And in a second and with an overwhelming strength, you can see his eyes becoming teary with all the feelings he has inside him.

"No. You didn't, Daryl, unless you want this to end."

But he shakes his head.

"No. I don' want it to ever end."

You nod softly.

"Good." When your hand catches his, Daryl clings to it, but you don't force him to talk because you know better than anyone that it was difficult for him to express himself. "Now come, lie down and try to sleep. Okay?”

He nods, laying down next to you, too overwhelmed to speak his mind at that very moment, his hand still holding yours even after he falls asleep when his mind can no longer carry the full weight of his thoughts. But while he does, you can't help but smile slightly, because now, awake, you are convinced that his voice saying I love you was not just part of the dream you were having, sweet words you hope you can tell him soon.

[natsaffection]

Ohh an idea 💡 in my head and I know you are perfect to write this, basically reader is working at a company that is run by bad guys but doesn't know it, so natasha is sent on a mission to get close to her and gather Intel, so couple weeks pass and reader finds out in the most distraught way which causes her to end everything with Natasha but still have a good heart decides to give everything natasha needs to take down the company, (happy ending or sad ending either works) 💝

Showing everything. | N.R

Warnings: Just Angst?

Word count: 8,4k

A/n: I'm so grateful every time I finish a Ask that's been on my list for weeks. So thank you for your patience each time. 🫶🏼

You had always dreamed of finding a job where you could make a difference in the world, but you never thought it would come in the form of an elegant office in the heart of New York City. The building, a towering glass structure shimmering in the sunlight, housed one of the city's most prestigious companies. Kinetica Industries. They were known for their groundbreaking technology and humanitarian efforts, advancing medical equipment and energy supply that had revolutionized the industry. It was a dream job, almost impossible to turn down.

You stumbled upon the opportunity by chance. A late night scrolling through endless job listings led you to Kinetica's website. The company was looking for someone with your exact skills: data analysis and project management. The job description was vague but intriguing. Analyzing trends, managing large datasets, coordinating with various departments. It sounded challenging yet rewarding, the kind of opportunity you needed to prove yourself. The application process was quick, almost too quick. A few online assessments, a virtual interview with a charming man who headed your department, and within a week, you were offered the job. They said they were impressed by your resume, your background in bioinformatics, and your impeccable reputation. The salary was more than generous, with benefits that seemed almost too good to be true. But eager to start fresh and leave the stagnation of your previous job behind, you didn't question it further. You accepted immediately.

Your first day was a whirlwind of activity. The office itself was as impressive as the building's exterior. Elegant, modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city. The air buzzed with innovation, with teams of people tirelessly working on the next big thing. You were given a tour, introduced to your colleagues. Bright, motivated people who all seemed to share your enthusiasm for the work. Your role was exactly as described, but with a small twist. You were part of a special project they called "The Initiative." It involved collecting and analyzing data from various sources to create predictive models that could be used for everything from disease prevention to energy distribution. It sounded noble, and you were thrilled to be part of something that could change the world.

But as you settled into your new role, you couldn't help but notice the layers of secrecy surrounding certain aspects of your work. Some files were restricted, accessible only with special clearance. Occasionally, your requests for specific datasets were met with vague answers or outright refusal. But whenever doubts arose, you reminded yourself that every company had its secrets, especially one as influential as Kinetica.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit office in the underground levels of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Natasha Fury sat across from you, the tension in the air almost palpable. "Romanoff," Fury began, his single eye piercing through the twilight, "we have a problem. Kinetica Industries." Natasha leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "The tech company? They've been on our radar for a while, haven't they?"

"They have." Fury confirmed. "But new intel suggests they're more than just a tech company. We believe they're a front for something far more dangerous. We suspect they're involved in illegal arms trading, possibly even human experimentation. But we need proof." Natasha nodded, understanding where this was going. "And that's where I come in."

"Exactly. We've identified someone on the inside, Y/N Y/L/N. She's new, only started about a week ago. As far as we can tell, she's clean. No criminal record, no ties to any organizations. She's the perfect target to infiltrate." Natasha leaned forward, studying the file Fury slid across the table. Your face stared back at her from the photo clipped to the top of the file, a bright smile, eyes full of hope. Natasha couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, but she pushed it aside. This was a mission, and she had a job to do.

"What's the plan?" she asked, flipping through the file. "You'll go undercover as someone with a similar background, a data analyst, someone they might hire if the current employee doesn't work out. Your task is to gain her trust, find out what Y/n knows. If she's innocent, she might unknowingly be sitting on crucial information. If not.."

"I'll find out," Natasha finished, her voice cold and determined. Fury nodded, satisfied. "We need to act fast. Every day we wait is another day Kinetica could move their operations. I'm counting on you, Romanoff." Natasha stood up, tucking the file under her arm. "I won't let you down."

As she left Fury's office, her thoughts were already spinning with possibilities, strategies, and the cool detachment that came with every undercover mission. She knew this wouldn't be easy. You were innocent, or at least you seemed to be. But Natasha had learned the hard way that appearances could be deceiving. Her mission was clear: get close to you, gather the information, and expose Kinetica for what they really were. But as she prepared to step into your world, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling that this mission would become more complicated than she anticipated.

Your first weeks at Kinetica Industries were a whirlwind of new faces, complex datasets, and an overwhelming amount of information. You were slowly getting used to the office routine when you heard about the new hire. Natalie Rushman, as she was introduced, joined the team on a bright Monday morning. You first heard about her during the daily briefing. Your department head mentioned that Natalie was hired to assist with data analysis, given the increasing workload from "The Initiative."

"I want you to show her the ropes." Your boss said, his tone implying it was not a request. "She has a similar background to you, and I think you two will work well together." You nodded, trying to hide the concern you felt about being responsible for training someone so soon after starting yourself. You hadn't fully mastered your own tasks yet, and now you were supposed to mentor someone else? But you forced a smile and agreed, hoping that Natalie would be as easygoing as she seemed in her brief introduction.

It wasn't until later in the morning that you finally met her. You were in the office kitchen, struggling with the intricate espresso machine that seemed designed to torment anyone who wasn't a seasoned barista. You had managed to spill coffee grounds everywhere when you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

You turned around and saw Natalie standing there, a slight smile on her lips. Her red hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, and she wore a white blouse and tailored black pants that made her look effortlessly professional. "Need some help?" Natalie asked, her voice warm and slightly amused. You laughed, embarrassed to be caught in the middle of your coffee disaster. "I think this machine was designed by someone who hates caffeine addicts."

Natalie stepped forward, gently nudging you aside. "Mind if I give it a try? I've had my fair share of battles with these things."

"Be my guest." you replied gratefully, stepping back. Natalie moved with practiced ease, quickly coaxing the machine into cooperation and brewing two perfect cups of espresso. She handed you one, which you accepted with a wide grin. "You're a lifesaver." you said, taking a sip. The coffee was perfectm. Rich, smooth, and exactly what you needed to get through the rest of the day. "I'm Y/n, by the way. I'm supposed to show you around today."

"Natalie." she replied, her smile deepening. "And I appreciate the help. The first days are always a bit overwhelming."

"Don't I know it.." you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "I'm still trying to figure out where half the supplies are kept around here." Natalie laughed, a genuine but slightly guarded sound, as if she was still feeling out her new environment. "I'm sure we'll figure it out together. So, what exactly are we working on?" You began explaining the project to her, giving her an overview of "The Initiative" and what your roles would be. As you spoke, you noticed that Natalie was a good listener, nodding at the right moments and asking insightful questions. It was clear she knew what she was talking about, and you felt a little more at ease, knowing you weren't dealing with a complete novice.

"So," Natalie said as you walked back to the office with your coffees in hand, "what made you decide to work here?" You shrugged, trying to put your thoughts into words. "I guess I wanted to be part of something bigger, you know? Kinetica is doing some amazing things..or at least that's what they tell us. It's nice to think that the work we're doing here might actually make a difference."

Natalie nodded thoughtfully, as if considering her own reasons for being here. "I can understand that. It's nice to feel like what you're doing matters." You arrived at your desk, which was temporarily doubling as Natalie's workspace until hers was ready. You showed her how to log into the system, where to find the files she needed, and how to navigate the company's complex database. As you worked together, you noticed how quickly Natalie picked everything up. She seemed almost too proficient, as if she knew the system better than someone on their first day should. But you brushed the thought aside, some people were just quick learners, you thought.

The day passed smoothly, with the two of you working side by side and getting to know each other in small increments between tasks. Natalie was friendly but reserved, sharing just enough about herself to seem open without giving too much away. You found that you liked your new colleague, appreciating her calm demeanor and quick mind.

By the end of the day, you had made significant progress on your tasks, and you were starting to feel a sense of camaraderie with Natalie. As you prepared to leave, you turned to her with a smile. “Thanks for today, Natalie. You made my job a lot easier.” Natalie returned the smile, her green eyes sparkling in the fading daylight. “The feeling is mutual. I think we’re going to make a great team.” You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that you hadn’t expected. Maybe this new job wouldn’t be so overwhelming after all..

In the weeks that followed, the bond between you and Natalie deepened, evolving from a close friendship into something more intense, something charged. There was a tension between you that neither of you could ignore, a pull that grew stronger with every shared glance, every lingering touch. You had danced around your feelings for each other for a while, but the unspoken words were becoming harder to bear.

One evening, after another long day at the office, you found yourselves alone in the break room once again. The city lights cast a soft glow through the windows, the hum of the air conditioning the only sound breaking the silence. You sat closer than usual, your shoulders touching as you picked at the remnants of a shared dinner. Your heart raced, the proximity making it difficult to focus on anything other than the warmth of Natalie’s body next to yours.

“Natalie..” you began hesitantly, “I need to tell you something.” Natalie looked up from her food, her green eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “I..I’ve been trying to understand these feelings I have for you.. I never thought I’d feel this way about someone I work with, but I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. I care about you, Natalie. More than just as a friend.” The words hung heavy in the air between you, filled with the weight of their honesty. You watched Natalie closely, searching her face for any sign of rejection or discomfort. But what you saw instead was a softening in her expression, a warmth that she hadn’t fully shown before.

“Y/n,” Natalie said softly, reaching out to take your hand, “I feel the same way. I’ve tried to keep my distance, to stay professional, but..I can’t help it. I love you.” Your heart leaped at her confession, your pulse quickening as the truth settled between you. “You.. you love me?”

Natalie nodded, her thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “Yes, I do. And I’ve been so scared of what that means, but I can’t deny it any longer. I love you, Y/n.” The relief that washed over you was almost overwhelming, and without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips to Natalie’s in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and filled with all the emotions you had both been holding back.

Natalie responded immediately, her hand coming up to cup your cheek as she deepened the kiss, letting all her unspoken feelings flow into it. It was a moment of pure connection, where nothing else existed but the two of you and the love you shared. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to process what had just happened.

“I can’t believe this is real..” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “It is,” Natalie murmured, her eyes shining with affection. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, everything felt perfect. But as the warmth of the moment began to fade, a sharp pang of guilt pierced Natasha’s heart. She had just confessed her love to you, but the truth was far more complicated than she could admit. She wasn’t just Natalie Rushman, a data analyst who had fallen for her colleague..she was Natasha Romanoff, a spy sent to gather information from the woman she had just professed her love to.

As you sat there, your hand still in hers, Natasha knew she was at a crossroads. She had sworn to get the information she needed, to complete the mission no matter what. But now, with the thought of betraying you, her stomach twisted with guilt. “Y/n,” Natasha began, her voice heavy with what she was about to say, “I want us to be completely honest with each other. Totally honest. I need to know..is there anything about our project, about Kinetica, that seems strange to you? Anything that doesn’t add up?”

You frowned slightly, confused by the sudden change in topic. “What do you mean?” Natasha hesitated, hating herself for what she had to do, but knowing she had no choice. “I’ve just..noticed a few things that don’t quite fit. Some files that are restricted, some data that doesn’t quite match up. I thought maybe you’d noticed it too.” Your brow furrowed as you thought back over the past few months. “Well, there have been a few things that seemed odd, but I just figured it was part of working at such a high-level company. Why do you ask?”

Natasha swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep up the pretense. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I want to make sure we’re not missing anything important.” You nodded slowly, still puzzled but trusting Natalie’s concern. “I’ll keep an eye out, and if I notice anything, I’ll let you know. But..can we not talk about work right now? I just want to enjoy this moment with you.”

Natasha’s heart clenched at your words, the guilt threatening to overwhelm her. She had just used your moment of vulnerability to fish for information, and the realization made her feel sick. But she forced herself to push the guilt aside, to focus on the mission, even as it tore her apart inside. “Of course.” Natasha said softly, pulling you closer and kissing you again, trying to lose herself in the warmth and love she felt for you.

Weeks passed, and the bond between you and Natalie grew even deeper. Your relationship had blossomed into something beautiful, a refuge in the midst of the high-pressure jobs at Kinetica Industries. You spent as much time together as possible..dinners, quiet nights with movies, and long walks through the city. For you, it felt like you had finally found someone who understood you, someone you could trust completely. But for Natasha, the lines between her mission and her feelings for you were becoming increasingly blurred.

The guilt Natasha felt was a constant companion, gnawing at her whenever she saw your trusting smile or felt the warmth of your hand in hers. Natasha knew she was deceiving you, but every time she considered telling you the truth, the weight of her duty as an agent held her back. She had a job to do, and despite her feelings, she couldn’t abandon it.

One evening, after a particularly long day at the office, you invited Natasha to your place. You were behind on some work and needed to finish a report for the next day, but you didn’t want to miss out on spending time with Natalie. Natasha agreed, glad for any excuse to spend more time with you.

Your apartment was cozy and inviting, filled with the little details Natasha had come to love. Bookshelves overflowing with novels, a small collection of plants by the window, and a few framed photos of you with your family. You settled together on the couch, you with your laptop and Natasha with a book she had picked from your shelf. “I’m sorry I have to work tonight..” you said, giving Natasha an apologetic smile. “I just need to finish this report, and then I’m all yours.”

“Don’t worry.” Natasha replied with a smile of her own. “I’m just happy to be here with you. Take your time.” As you focused on your work, Natasha found herself watching you more than reading the book in her hands. The way your brow furrowed slightly when you were deep in thought, the absent-minded way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. All of it made Natasha’s heart ache with affection and guilt. But as much as she wanted to lose herself in these feelings, Natasha couldn’t forget why she was there. This was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. Your work might hold the key to the information S.H.I.E.L.D. needed, and Natasha had to take advantage of it, no matter how much it tore her up inside.

After about an hour, you stood up and stretched, yawning. “I need to make some tea. Want anything?”

Natasha nodded her head, giving you a reassuring smile. “This would be grate.” As you disappeared into the kitchen, Natasha’s heart pounded in her chest. This was her chance. She had to act quickly. She set the book aside and moved quietly to your laptop. The screen was still on, showing the report you were working on, but Natasha’s focus was on the folders and files scattered across the desktop. She opened one labeled “Project Data” her hands trembling slightly as she navigated through the documents.

Natasha scanned the files, her sharp eyes searching for anything that stood out or seemed significant. Most of the documents were routine. Xatasets, project reports, emails. But then she found something: a file titled “Confidential Research Notes.”

Her heart raced as she opened it and found a series of notes detailing experiments and datasets that she hadn’t seen before. It was more detailed than anything you had shown her at work, and as Natasha read through it, she realized it contained the kind of information S.H.I.E.L.D. had been looking for..details about Kinetica’s involvement in potentially illegal research, experiments that crossed ethical boundaries.

She heard the clink of a teacup in the kitchen, and panic surged through her. Quickly, Natasha copied the file onto a USB stick she had hidden in her bag. She had just closed the file when you returned, carrying twocups of tea. “Here you go.” you said with a smile, handing one of the cups to Natasha. “Thanks.” Natasha replied, taking the cup with slightly trembling hands and praying that you hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

You settled back down on the couch, taking a sip of your tea and letting out a contented sigh. “The report is almost done. After that, we can watch the movie you mentioned.” Natasha forced a smile, trying to push down the gnawing guilt and the tight knot in her stomach. “That sounds great.”

As you returned to your work, Natasha tried to relax, but the weight of what she had just done loomed over her. She had gathered the information she needed, but at the cost of betraying your trust. For the rest of the evening, Natasha was distant, her mind racing with thoughts of what would happen next.

You noticed the change in her demeanor and reached out to touch her arm, concern evident in your eyes. “Hey, is everything okay?” Natasha looked into your eyes, feeling her heart ache. “Yeah, I’m just..tired, I guess. It’s been a long day.”

You smiled gently and squeezed her arm. “I get it. We’ve both been working so hard lately. Let’s just relax tonight, okay? No more work, just us.” Natasha nodded, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Just us.” she repeated, her voice hollow. As you both snuggled up on the couch to watch the movie, Natasha tried to focus on the moment, to lose herself in the warmth of your presence. But no matter how hard she tried, the guilt and the knowledge of what she had done weighed heavily on her.

The following days were filled with an unbearable tension for Natasha. She knew she had to pass the information to S.H.I.E.L.D., but she dreaded what would happen when the truth came out. The time she spent with you, the smiles, the laughter, all felt tainted by the lie she was living. Finally, the day came when Natasha couldn’t put it off any longer. She knew she had to deliver the USB drive to S.H.I.E.L.D. The mission needed to be completed, but the thought of what that would mean for your relationship was almost too much to bear.

That evening, as you sat together at your kitchen table, your laptop open in front of you as you worked on another report, Natasha made her decision. She had to do this, even though it meant risking everything with you. But before she could leave, something happened that changed everything.

You called Natasha over, a confused look on your face. “Nat, can you look at something for me? This report doesn’t make sense.” Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral. “Sure, what’s going on?” she asked, walking over to the table.

You pointed at the screen, your brow furrowed in confusion. “I just got this email from my boss, and he attached this report. It’s about a security breach at Kinetica. They’re trying to figure out who accessed some confidential files..” Natasha’s blood ran cold, but she kept her voice steady. “A security breach? What files are they talking about?”

You scrolled through the report, your frown deepening. “It doesn’t say exactly, but it has something to do with our project. They’ve narrowed down the list of suspects, but I don’t recognize most of the names..except for one.”

You paused, your eyes widening as you focused on a name in the list: Natasha Romanoff.

“Natasha Romanoff?” you whispered, confusion and disbelief clear in your voice. You looked up at Natasha, searching her face for answers. “Wait, is that you? Is this some kind of mistake?”

Natasha felt the walls closing in on her. There was no more hiding, no more pretending. The truth was out, and there was no going back. “Y/n,” she began, her voice trembling, “I need you to listen to me.” You took a step back, fear and suspicion creeping into your eyes. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice shaking.

Natasha’s heart broke at the sight of the fear in your eyes. “I’m still the same person, Y/n. I’m still me. But..I haven’t been honest with you.” Your hands shook as you hugged yourself, desperately trying to understand what was happening. “Who are you? Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

Tears welled up in Natasha’s eyes as she took a hesitant step toward you, but you flinched and stepped back. “Please, let me explain..” Natasha pleaded, her voice breaking. “My real name is Natasha Romanoff. I’m an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. I was sent here to gather information on Kinetica. But everything else..everything between us..it was real. My feelings for you, Y/n, are real.”

Your eyes darted around the room as if searching for something familiar, something to hold onto. But everything felt wrong. The woman you loved, the woman you trusted, was a stranger. “You used me?” you asked, your voice trembling with anger and fear. “You used me the whole time?”

“No!” Natasha said quickly, desperation creeping into her voice. “It started as a mission, yes, but I never meant to fall in love with you. I never wanted to hurt you. Please, Y/n, you have to believe me.” You shook your head, backing away until you hit the wall. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I don’t even know who you are. Natasha Romanoff, S.H.I.E.L.D.… it sounds like something out of a Movie..”

Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched you crumble before her. She took a tentative step closer, her hands shaking. “I’m still the person you fell in love with, Y/n. I’m still the person who loves you more than anything. Please, let me explain everything.” You stared at Natasha, your heart breaking all over again. “You should have told me the truth from the beginning! But you didn’t. You lied to me, and now..now I don’t even know who you are..”

Natasha took another step forward, reaching out tentatively. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I’m begging you, please give me a chance to make it right.” You looked down at Natasha’s outstretched hand, but the fear and betrayal in your heart were too overwhelming. You couldn’t bring yourself to take it. “I can’t..” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I can’t do this. I need you to leave.”

Natasha’s heart broke at your words, but she knew she had no right to ask for forgiveness, not now. “Y/n, I-”

“Just go!” you cried, your voice filled with agony. “Please, just go. I can’t look at you right now.” Natasha’s hands fell to her sides, her shoulders slumping as the weight of what she had done crashed down on her. She had lost you, and there was nothing she could do to fix it. But as much as it hurt, she knew she had to respect your wishes.

“I’m so sorry..” Natasha whispered, tears streaming down her face. “I love you, Y/n. I’ll always love you.” Without another word, Natasha turned and left your apartment, the door closing behind her with a finality that echoed through the empty space. You stood there, frozen, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces as the truth of Natasha’s betrayal washed over you. The apartment that once felt like a safe haven now felt cold and empty, the warmth of Natasha’s presence gone, replaced by a suffocating sense of loss. You slid down the wall, pulling your knees to your chest as your body shook with sobs. The woman you loved, the woman you trusted, was a lie, and you didn’t know if you could ever trust anyone again.

Hours passed, and eventually, your tears dried up, leaving you with a hollow feeling inside. But despite the pain, you couldn’t ignore the truth that Natasha had revealed. Kinetica was involved in something dangerous, something that needed to be stopped. And despite everything, you knew you couldn’t just walk away.

Slowly, you got to your feet, your resolve hardening. You would do what needed to be done, not for Natasha, but because it was the right thing to do. You walked over to your laptop and opened the files you had been working on. With a heavy heart, you gathered everything you knew about Kinetica’s activities, your hands shaking as you worked. The information you collected could help bring the company down, but it came at the cost of everything you believed in, everything you felt.

When you finished, you copied the files onto a USB stick and set it on the table. You stared at it for a long time, your thoughts filled with memories of the woman you thought you knew, the woman you loved. Finally, you took a deep breath and reached for your phone. You hesitated for a moment before dialing the number Natasha had given you, the one you were supposed to use only in an emergency.

Natasha answered on the first ring, her voice thick with emotion. “Y/n?”

“I have the information you need.” you said, your voice firm despite the storm of emotions raging inside you. “It’s on a USB stick. I’ll leave it at the café near my apartment tomorrow morning. You can pick it up there.”

“Y/n, please, can we talk-” Natasha began, but you cut her off.

“There’s nothing more to say.” you said quietly. "That's it, Natasha. After this, we're done. Don't contact me again."

A long silence followed on the other end of the line, and you could hear the pain in Natasha's voice when she finally spoke. "Thank you. I'm so sorry. For everything."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to keep your emotions under control. "Goodbye, Natasha."

The mission was over. Kinetica Industries had been exposed, its leaders arrested, and the illegal activities shut down. Natasha had completed her assignment, but the victory felt hollow. As the dust settled, she could only think about you, how she had lost you and how desperate she was to make things right.

Days turned into weeks, and the absence of you in Natasha's life became unbearable. The empty silence in her apartment echoed the emptiness in her heart. She replayed the last conversation she had with you over and over in her mind, haunted by the pain in your voice, the cold finality of your words. Natasha knew she had no right to ask for forgiveness, but she couldn't live with the thought that you hated her, that the love you had shared was now just a memory tainted by lies. After much deliberation, Natasha decided she had to try one last time to explain herself and apologize in person. She knew it was a long shot..you had made it clear you didn't want to see her again but Natasha couldn't leave things the way they were. She had to try.

One evening, just as the sun was setting, Natasha made her way to your apartment. The familiar building loomed before her, but this time it felt different..colder, more intimidating. She hesitated at the entrance, her heart pounding in her chest. What if you refused to listen? What if you called the police before she even had a chance to say anything? But she knew she couldn't turn back now. She took a deep breath, entered the building, and walked to your door. She stood there for a long moment, gathering her thoughts before she finally raised her hand and knocked softly.

There was a long pause, and Natasha's heart sank as she imagined you ignoring her, refusing to even open the door. But then she heard footsteps approaching, and the door opened a crack, revealing your wary eyes. Your expression shifted from surprise to anger as soon as you saw Natasha. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, and you narrowed your eyes. "What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice cold and hard.

"Y/n, please, I just want to talk." Natasha said quickly, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I know I don't deserve it, but I need to explain-" You cut her off, your voice sharp with anger. "Explain? There's nothing left to explain, Natasha. You lied to me, used me, and now you have the nerve to show up at my door?"

"Please.." Natasha pleaded, her voice breaking. "Give me five minutes." Your eyes flashed with a mix of anger, pain, and something else that Natasha couldn't quite place. You hesitated, your hand still gripping the doorknob as if you were weighing whether to slam the door in her face. "If you don't leave right now." you said, your voice trembling with barely suppressed emotion, "I'll call the police."

Natasha felt her heart sink, but she didn't move. She knew you were serious, but she also knew that if she walked away now, she would never have another chance to make things right. "Do it." Natasha said quietly, "Call them if you want. But please, hear me out first. I need to show you how sorry I am. I know I can't undo what I've done, but I can't live with myself if I don't at least try to apologize."

You stared at Natasha, your hand shaking as you gripped the doorknob. The pain in your eyes was unmistakable, and it broke Natasha's heart to see how much she had hurt you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you thick and suffocating. Finally, you let out a shaky breath and loosened your grip on the doorknob. "You have five minutes," you said, "But if you lie to me again, I swear I'll call the police."

Natasha nodded, relief washing over her even though she knew this was only a small victory. "Thank you." she whispered, stepping back as you opened the door just enough to let her in. You led Natasha into the living room, a space that had once felt warm and inviting but now felt cold and distant. You gestured for Natasha to sit on the sofa, but you remained standing, arms crossed over your chest as you waited for her to speak.

"Okay," Natasha began, her voice trembling, "I know I've hurt you in a way I can never fully apologize for. I deceived you and betrayed your trust. But I need you to know that every moment I spent with you, every touch, every word I said to you, was real. My feelings for you are real." Your eyes flashed with anger, and you shook your head. "How am I supposed to believe that? You're a trained spy. Lying is part of your job."

"I know.." Natasha said, her voice breaking slightly. "And that's why I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it. But I couldn't leave things the way they were. I couldn't let you believe that everything between us was just part of the mission. It wasn't. You became the most important person in my life, and I was so scared of losing you."

"Then why didn't you tell me the truth?" you asked, your voice trembling with pent-up emotion. "Why did you wait until I had to find out this way?" Natasha swallowed hard, tears welling up in her eyes. "Because I was a coward. I didn't want to lose you, and I thought that if I could just finish the mission, maybe..just maybe we could have a life together afterward. But I was wrong. I should have been honest with you from the start."

You shook your head, tears filling your eyes as well. "You should have. But you didn't. And now I don't know if I can ever trust you again." A tear rolled down Natasha's cheek, but she made no move to wipe it away. "I understand." she said softly. "I know I've broken your trust, and I have to live with that. I just wanted you to know that I love you, Y/n. I will always love you. And if you never want to see me again, I'll respect that. But please don't think that I didn't care about you, because I do."

You looked away, blinking back tears. "You should go, Natasha. There's nothing more to say." Natasha nodded, her heart breaking all over again. "I'm sorry." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "For everything."

Without another word, Natasha turned and walked to the door, her steps heavy with the weight of the finality of the situation. She paused in the doorway, casting one last look at you, hoping to find something..anything that might suggest there was still a chance for you both. But your expression remained cold and distant, your eyes avoiding hers. With a heavy heart, Natasha opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind her with a soft thud that echoed in the silence that followed. Natasha stood there for a moment, letting the reality of what had just happened sink in. She had tried, but it was over. You were right. There was nothing more to say.

Unknown to you, the case of Kinetica’s downfall was far from over. The company’s leaders were desperately trying to cover their tracks, attempting to salvage what they could. But amid the chaos, they discovered something alarming: You, one of their employees, had been the one to pass on the damning information that had led to their downfall. And now they wanted revenge.

You were alone in your apartment one evening, your thoughts drifting as you tried to focus on the book you were reading. The quiet was soothing, a respite from the whirlwind of emotions you had been grappling with. But that peace was abruptly shattered by a sudden, insistent knocking at your door. Frowning, you set the book aside and walked to the door, peering through the peephole. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw two men standing outside, men you didn’t recognize, but something about their presence immediately set off alarm bells in your head.

“Who is it?” you called out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the unease rising within you. “Delivery.” one of the men said, but there was no package in sight, and his tone was too cold, too rehearsed.

Your instincts kicked in, and you stepped away from the door, your heart racing. These weren’t delivery men..they were here for something else, something far more sinister. Panic gripped you as you realized that Kinetica must have found out what you had done. Just as you were about to reach for your phone, the door burst open with a loud crash, the two men forcing their way in. You screamed and stumbled back, your thoughts racing with fear and desperation. But before they could reach you, another figure appeared in the doorway, moving with deadly precision. Natasha.

She had been keeping an eye on your apartment since your last conversation, knowing that Kinetica might try something. When she saw the men approaching your building, she knew immediately what their target was and she wasn’t going to let them harm you. “Get away from her.” Natasha snarled, her voice cold and dangerous.

The men turned to face Natasha, but they barely had time to react before she was on them. In a blur of motion, she disarmed the first man, sending his weapon skittering across the floor. The second man lunged at her, but she easily dodged and delivered a powerful kick to his stomach, sending him crashing into the wall. You watched in stunned silence as Natasha took down the men with brutal efficiency, her movements fluid and controlled. The fight was over in seconds, the two men lying unconscious on the floor as Natasha stood over them, breathing heavily.

For a moment, the apartment was eerily silent, the only sound the ragged breaths of the two women. Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind struggling to process what had just happened. Natasha turned to you, her expression a mixture of concern and relief. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice softer now, laced with the fear she had tried to suppress.

You nodded slowly, your eyes wide as you stared at Natasha. “I..I think so..” you stammered, still trying to grasp everything. “What..what are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t leave you unprotected.” Natasha said, stepping closer, her eyes full of guilt and love. “I knew Kinetica might come after you. I couldn’t let that happen.” Your gaze flickered to the unconscious men on the floor, then back to Natasha. “You..you saved me.”

Natasha nodded, her heart aching at the vulnerability in your voice. “I will always protect you. No matter what’s happened between us, I’ll always be here for you.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Natasha, the woman who had lied to you, who had betrayed you, but who had also just saved your life. The fear and anger you had been holding onto began to waver, replaced by a deep, conflicting emotion you couldn’t fully understand. “Why?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you.” Natasha said, her voice heavy with emotion. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I know you may never forgive me, but I had to make sure you were safe. You mean everything to me, Y/n.”

Your heart broke at the sincerity in Natasha’s voice. Despite everything, despite the lies and betrayal, Natasha’s love for you was real. And in that moment, you realized that your own feelings were just as complicated. You were angry, you were hurt, but you still loved her..more than you wanted to admit.

The two of you stood in silence, the weight of your emotions heavy in the air. Your mind raced with conflicting thoughts, torn between the betrayal you felt and the undeniable connection that still existed between you. Finally, you took a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Natasha..” you said quietly. “But I can’t ignore what you just did for me. You saved my life. And..and I still care about you. I don’t know what that means, but I need time to figure it out.”

Natasha nodded, tears glistening in her eyes as she looked at you. “Take all the time you need.” she whispered. “I’ll be here, no matter what you decide.” You nodded hesitantly, the storm of emotions inside you beginning to calm. “Thank you.” you said softly, your voice barely audible.

Natasha stepped back, giving you the space you needed. “I’ll take care of this.” she said, gesturing to the unconscious men on the floor. “And then I’ll go, if that’s what you want.” You looked at Natasha, your heart heavy with everything that had happened between you. “I don’t know what I want..” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I think..I think I need to be alone right now.”

Natasha nodded, her eyes reflecting the understanding she felt, even though the pain was clear. “I understand.” she said quietly. “Just know that if you ever need anything, anything at all, I’m here.”

You didn’t respond, but the look in your eyes said enough. You stood there, watching as Natasha efficiently secured the two men, ensuring they wouldn’t pose any further threat. She worked in silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you. When Natasha was finished, she stood by the door, hesitating for a moment as if searching for the right words, but then deciding against saying anything more. With one last, sorrowful glance in your direction, she turned and left your apartment, the door closing softly behind her.

You stood frozen in place, your mind reeling from everything that had just happened. The apartment, which had been filled with tension and violence just moments ago, now felt eerily quiet. Slowly, you sank onto the couch, your body trembling as the reality of the situation settled over you.

You were filled with so many conflicting emotions that it was hard to sort through them all. Anger, fear, relief, affection..they all swirled within you, and you didn’t know how to make sense of them. You had asked Natasha to leave because you weren’t sure of anything anymore. And though it felt like the right thing to do, now that she was gone, you felt a cold emptiness spreading through your chest. A part of you wanted to call her back, wanted her to stay so you could work through these chaotic feelings together. But another part of you knew that you needed time to be alone, to sort through everything that had happened between the two of you.

The night passed in a blur of thoughts and emotions, with sleep coming only in brief, restless intervals. When morning finally came, you felt just as exhausted as you had the night before. But with the new day came a certain clarity. You knew you couldn’t stay in this limbo forever. Natasha had told you that she would always be there for you, and you believed her. But the question was whether you could let her back into your life, whether you could ever trust her again.

As the day dragged on, you tried to focus on mundane tasks, but thoughts of Natasha kept intruding. Finally, after hours of agonizing, you decided you needed more information to figure out a path forward. If there was any chance of peace or understanding between you, you needed to know the whole truth. The next day, you called Natasha. She answered immediately, and you could hear the mix of hope and concern in her voice. “Y/n?”

“I want to know everything.” you said, your voice firm even as your heart raced. “I can’t move on without understanding everything. No more secrets, no more lies. If there’s any chance for us to find peace, you need to show me everything.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Natasha spoke, her voice filled with relief and caution. “I understand. I’ll take you to S.H.I.E.L.D. You’ll have access to everything, my reports, the mission files. Whatever you need to know.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Okay. When can we go?”

“Right now.” Natasha said without hesitation. “I’ll come pick you up.”

True to her word, Natasha arrived at your apartment shortly after. The drive to the S.H.I.E.L.D. building was silent, the tension between you both palpable. Natasha stole worried glances at you from time to time, but you kept your gaze fixed out the window, lost in your thoughts. When you arrived at the unassuming building that housed S.H.I.E.L.D.’s operations, Natasha guided you through a series of security checks, her presence and clearance making the process smooth. You followed her, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and curiosity. This was a world you never imagined you would be a part of.

Finally, you arrived in a large conference room. Natasha gestured for you to take a seat at the table while she went to a console on the wall and entered a series of commands. The large screen in the room flickered to life, displaying a series of files and documents. “This is everything.” Natasha said quietly, turning to face you. “My mission files, the reports I sent, the details of Kinetica’s operations. You have full access.”

You stared at the screen, your heart racing. “Why are you doing this? Why are you showing me all of this?”

“Because I owe you the truth.” Natasha replied, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “And because I want you to know that I’m not hiding anything from you anymore. I know I broke your trust, but I want to do whatever it takes to rebuild it. Even if that means showing you everything.”

The next few hours were spent going through everything, the initial mission briefing, how Natasha was assigned to get close to you to gather information on Kinetica, and how she struggled with her growing feelings for you. She explained how she tried to keep you out of harm's way even as she fulfilled her mission, and how every moment you shared, despite the circumstances, had been genuine.

You listened intently, absorbing every word, every detail. There were moments when your anger flared up again, moments when you wanted to shout at Natasha for the betrayal, for the pain she had caused. But there were also moments of understanding, moments when you saw the inner conflict Natasha had gone through, torn between her duty and her growing love for you.

When Natasha finished, she looked at you, her heart pounding in her chest. “I know this doesn’t undo the lies, but I wanted you to see that I truly cared about you. I never wanted to hurt you, Y/n.” You remained silent for a long time, processing everything you had learned. You felt raw, exposed, but also strangely relieved. This was what you had needed. the full truth, with nothing held back.

Finally, you looked at Natasha, your expression unreadable. “You were honest with me today, Natasha, and I can feel that. For the first time, I feel like I’m really seeing you..with all your strengths and flaws, with all your mistakes.” Natasha nodded, her voice soft as she responded, “That’s all I wanted. To be honest with you, even if it costs me everything.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you tried to organize your thoughts. “I don’t know where we go from here, Natasha. I don’t know if I can ever fully trust you again. But..I see that you’re trying. And that means something.” Natasha felt a small spark of hope ignite in her chest, but she didn’t dare let it grow too large. “Thank you, Y/n. That’s more than I deserve.”

You looked at Natasha, your eyes filled with a mix of sadness and something that resembled hope. "Maybe it’s a start. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but at least now I know the truth. And that’s more than I had before.”

Natasha nodded, her heart heavy, but she was grateful. “Whatever happens, I’m here. If you need space, I’ll give you that. If you want to talk, I’ll listen. I won’t go away.” You managed a small, tired smile. “I guess we’ll just have to see where this takes us.”

You both left the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters together, the tension between you eased but the future still uncertain. As you stepped out into the bright afternoon sun, Natasha glanced at you, and for the first time in weeks, she felt a cautious spark of hope. You caught her glance and sighed. “It’s going to take time, Natasha. I don’t know if things can ever be the way they were, but.. we can find something new. Something honest.”

Natasha nodded, her heart swelling with emotion. “That’s what I’d like.” As you walked side by side, the past still loomed over you, but for the first time, there was a path forward..a path that might lead to healing, to forgiveness, and maybe even to a future where you could rebuild what had been broken. The road ahead would be difficult, full of challenges and doubts, but you had taken the first step together. And for now, that was enough.

[iniquitousyearning]

lorenzo berkshire • run.

summary: how do you define the man who embodies contradiction? a loaded gun wrapped in sunshine, a bloodhound cloaked in golden fur, a cheeky wink masking a deadly glare?

after some pushing, you realize you’ve always known exactly what kind of man Lorenzo Berkshire is. and perhaps, you also realize, he’s the most dangerous kind of all.

word count: 5.9k

warnings: forced proximity trope, SMUT, multiple orgasm, teasing, PIV, fingering, a chase through the forest, jealousy (slight weaponizing of mattheo), established boundaries entirely consensual, dark!enzoberkshire (meh), left the door open for a part two considering i never elaborate on where they’re going.

Lorenzo Berkshire. He is what he is, until he isn't.

Growing up, you always held your perceptions of Berkshire close. A sweet boy with a puppy dog stare, eyes like liquid amber holding the gentle warmth of a summer's dawn. Innocent lad with a cheeky smile that radiated like sunlight on a dew-kissed meadow--simply too damn nice for his own good. A walking ray of sunshine, wouldn't harm a fly with a feather.

He was what he was, until he wasn't.

You're not entirely certain when the switch flipped, when he chose to reveal his true self to the school and no longer cared to conceal it. You suspect it was around fifth year, perhaps during one of the winter months. You recall hearing it before seeing it, albeit faintly—the rush of footsteps, the sound of flesh meeting stone, the sickening thud of fist against face.

And when your eyes finally caught up to your ears, you recall yourself silently thanking the stars for the gracious gift of karma, and you'll never forget the silent exchange you shared with Berkshire as he was finally pulled, nay dragged, up and away from your cheating, scumbag ex.

He is what he is, until he isn't.

From this, the question still stood to linger: what precisely is Lorenzo Berkshire? These days, if anyone is to know, it should be you. You've spent ample time in close quarters with him, enough to dare attempt an answer. Moments etched in memory, his breath warm against your neck, his fingers tracing the contours of your skin, his lips mapping the crease of your thighs; among others. You suspect that, more than anyone else, you could provide a solid insight into the truth of this enigmatic man.

And yet, the answer eludes description.

How does one configure the blueprint of a man who embodies contradiction—a loaded gun wrapped in sunshine, a bloodhound cloaked in golden fur, a cheeky wink masking a deadly glare? He defies categorization, existing at the intersection of light and shadow, warmth and danger, innocence and intensity.

Understanding Lorenzo Berkshire, in his entirety, would mean subjecting yourself to the dualities of his nature—standing in both the path of his aggression and the shelter of his protection. It necessitates penetrating beneath his skin to fathom the intricacies of his design and ascending above to attain a panoramic view.

It entails becoming his adversary before earning the privilege of his friendship, which is precisely where you falter—because how do you become an enemy to a man who's already been silently protecting you for years? Who not only touches but worships you with reverence? Who smiles like sin as he kneels before your altar? Who, despite any provocation that may test his patience, has never and would never suggest severing ties?

Perhaps, you decide, the closest you can get is by first figuring out how to get under his skin.

——

"Enz," the word's a hiss, slipping through breathless cords. "You're moving too fast."

Enzo's response is terse, a nod accompanied by a faint smirk that dances across his lips before he continues on, unabated.

"Noted." The word carries zero sincerity.

You fight a groan, frustration simmering beneath your skin. Yes, you anticipated his lacklustre response, yet it did little to quell the mounting annoyance within you, creeping toward heights of Everest.

"Enz--where are we even going?"

It's pathetic really, your vocal inflection. A half-assed plea for a response you know you won't receive. He must detect it too, for all he offers in acknowledgment is a dry chuckle, effortlessly shoving a branch aside as he ducks beneath it. You groan, audibly this time, the chill wind cutting through you like a knife.

"Enzo," you beseech him, again, your voice a breeze lost in the vastness of the night, "please just slow your pace...talk to m-"

With clear reluctance Enzo pauses, abruptly, as though someone poured cement into his shoes. He casts a glance over his shoulder at you, his gaze piercing through the darkness like a beacon--brief and pulsing. You hardly have time to meet his eyes before he's moving again.

"We can't afford to slow down," is all he offers as he resumes his long strides. "Not now."

The urge to strangle him swells within you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf your sanity whole. How you curse the moment you offered to accompany him on this perilous journey. How you yearn to be back in the safety of your bed, cocooned in the warmth of the castle walls, far from the chaos that ensues when you entangle yourself with Slytherin boys and their penchant for trouble. Yet here you are, a prisoner of your own folly. By this point you're certain you'll never learn.

You huff your frustration. "Gods, Enzo."

Without giving him time to deflect, you quicken your steps and reach out, grasping his wrist, instantly acknowledging the tension in his skin beneath your touch. Then, in an instant, two eyes the colour of burnt honey pivot to lock onto yours, and you see it--that ferocity. Bees buzzing with anger at the sight of their spoil. It's there. It's always there.

He is what he is--

"We've been walking for fucking ever." As you exhale, the air swallows your breath. "I'm not going to help you if you won't reason with me. If you don't tell me where the hell we're going."

"Your word was given, angel," it's short, cautiously curt, but it's enough. His tone a velvet glove masking the steel beneath. "Wasn't it?"

"My word was given, but it was also contingent on trust." You survey your surroundings. Trees, bush, and Merlin knows what else. Your shoulders slouch. "And right now, that's in short supply."

He blinks, eyes floating up and over your head, a glimpse as fleeting as twilight, before returning to meet your own. You see it again, swirling in his irises, though it's softened slightly by something you perceive as guilt. The winds howl, sucking air thin as the tension thickens, congealing in your throat.

"You know I'd never endanger you."

--until he isn't.

There's a waver in your gaze, torn between the desire to hold his sight and the temptation to descend on his lips. You don't miss the purity in his tone, a sweetness that saturates the honey in his eyes and leaves nothing but pure sugar lingering on your tongue. So saccharine it makes your teeth ache, yet you find yourself craving more.

At any other moment, you'd believe him. Now, far within the depths of the forbidden forest, the circumstances allude it.

"You doubt me," his voice cuts through the silence like a blade through silk. He couldn't miss your hesitation in a dream. You feel his skin turn to ice beneath your touch. "Since when?"

Doubting Enzo feels foreign, a betrayal of self. It's no secret that the man is troublesome, usually up to no good--but you've always known, even as his teeth graze your pulse and his hands encircle your throat, that the last thing he'd ever do is hurt you. This isn't your character. Tonight's different, and you know he senses it.

"Since you started coming out here in the middle of the night," your voice is a whisper, releasing his wrist before you could feel the inevitable leap of his pulse. "Since I had to bribe Mattheo with damn near half my worth to get him to tell me why."

One thing for certain about Lorenzo Berkshire, it's that he should come with a warning. A word of advice not to be deceived by his soft appearance. All puppy cuddles with sharply fangs oozing venom. A caution to approach with the wariness reserved for handling hazardous materials. An infomercial on how his embrace is as deceiving as it is lethal, a trap set with a smile and an eager wag of the tail.

Except, now, there was no smile. No wag. Just the trap.

"You bribed Mattheo." He repeated, his voice a low rumble like distant thunder, entirely disregarding the beginning portion of your statement. "And just what exactly did you have to offer to loosen his tongue?"

A lightbulb burst to life in your brain. A waking sun. A brazen flame. The answer, so glaringly obvious in retrospect, had been within reach all along. What rouses a dormant dragon from slumber? What pokes a sleeping bear to wake? It is the threat to their belongings—the primal instinct to protect what is theirs at all costs. To perceive any potential threat and squash it at it source.

This was your moment.

You could insinuate that you tempted Mattheo with your own tongue in exchange, perhaps alongside the opportunity to mark your knees with bruises. You could say you offered your body, your dignity, anything that might garner a reaction. Of course, the truth was far more mundane; it only took a meagre 30 galleons and a pinky promise to loosen Mattheo's lips. And he didn't even tell you anything worth knowing.

But if you aimed to stoke the fires of Lorenzo Berkshire's wrath and draw his fury upon yourself, this appeared to be the sole route remaining. For throughout all the years of knowing him, the one consistent trigger that never failed to ignite his fury was any hint of a threat...against you.

But before you could comprehend the lapse in your response, Enzo stepped closer, your name hissed through clenched teeth. "What'd you give him?"

Your heart thrashed like a caged animal. The wind billowing through the depleted space between your bodies, tousling his hair in the night. Did the forest always sound like this? Didn't he just say you couldn't afford to slow down?

Your gaze meets the air over his shoulder. "You're deflecting my question."

"And you, mine," another step forward, and you take one back. You can't help but notice his fingers twitch at his sides. "Why?"

Have you added astuteness to your Enzo observation list? If not, it must be at the top. He's always been a master at unmasking your bluffs with a single, cutting retort, dripping from the teeth with condescension.

Your eye twitches. "You're just full of questions tonight, aren't you?"

He doesn't find your deflection half as amusing as you do. "Only because I'm being met with evasive answers.”

"Huh." You cock an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. "Nosey and entitled."

"Hm," he cracks a grin at that. Purely to spite you, you're sure. Purely to make your pulse skyrocket. "I prefer curious and expectant."

"Quite a pair of traits." Tension thickens in your throat. You force yourself to swallow it. "You know what they say about curiosity, don't you?"

His grin widens. "I'm certain you'll enlighten me."

You peer at him, your eyes searching for warmth in the dim of the forest but finding none, like bees seeking nectar in barren fields. You square your shoulders, trying your damnedest to ignore the distant howling sounds coming from the forests depths.

"It's a tale as old as time, Enz, I'm sure you've heard it." A branch snaps underfoot, the sound jolting you back to reality, but you swallow the instinctual yelp that threatens to escape your lips. "Curiosity killed the cat."

Before you can even process it, Enzo moves with lightning speed, seizing your wrist just as you reel from the inevitable impact of your back colliding with an ancient oak behind you. Pulling you into him, his face moves dangerously close to yours, your eyes converging, honey pouring over your skin, sucking you in like quicksand.

"You know there's another part to it, don't you?" his voice cuts through the air like a dagger, sharp and precise. He waits for you to settle before he continues. "Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back."

That bastard.

"It doesn't matter what I gave him," you force yourself out of hesitation, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart, the tingling sting on your spine. "I'm still here with you, aren't I?"

His silence is telling. Bottomless pits pin you down, an anvil in influence alone.

And then he breaks it. "It matters to me."

"Why?" you press, your curiosity piqued by his insistence. You're trying to drag this on for as long as you can but his intensity has you stumbling. Words flow like water. "Who cares, really? I mean-"

"Because," he slices your sentence in two. The latter dying from lack of purpose.

Your lips thin to a pursed line. You blink up at him through lidded eyes, mouth opening to speak but nothing comes out as he leans in closer, so close you can practically taste his breath. He'd never been possessive before, not like this. But perhaps you never gave him a reason to be. You've always been his, unquestioned, unsanctioned. Despite the lack of title. You know he’s only acting this way because you’re deflecting. Your heart barrels into your throat, desperate to claw its way out.

"Because I said so," he continues, his grip on your wrist tightening with each passing moment, his nails leaving indentations in the bark beside your head. "Because, whatever dept you owe him, I'll help you absolve it. Professionally."

A sickening grin creeps across your lips, and his eyes are glued to it. You're skinned raw under his gaze, his pupils so piercing you feel them in the marrow of your bones. You observe the subtle flicker of his tongue, moistening his lips as he gleams down at you--your saviour from above, your dormant dragon, your slumbering bear.

He is what he is.

"I don't need your saving, Enzo," your voice is a breath, as soft as a phoenix feather. As flaming as one too. "I need your honesty."

"My honesty." He repeats as he leans in closer, his hand shifting to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You shudder under his possession, his lips grazing against your jaw like fire and ice, simultaneously scorching and soothing. "I'll give you my honesty, angel."

You sigh as you hear the unctuous in that tone. You know he isn't going to give you what you're asking for, but he'll give you enough to quench your thirst. Classic fucking Berkshire. He releases his grip on your wrist, replacing it with a firm hold on your hip, anchoring you to reality.

"My honesty is I knew you'd try to come tonight, and I only let you because at least here, at my side, I can protect you." Warm lips brush feather-light against your lobe. "My honesty, is if Riddle puts a fucking hand on you, we're going to have a problem."

As the last few words spill from his lips, you feel as though you've got a sugar high, his words oozing with saccharine sweetness, like indulging in a bowl of chocolates or sipping from a concentrated cauldron of peach juice. They have a cloying effect, threatening to rot your teeth and stain your tongue. Just like his eyes.

And it's right then, that you come to a startling realization. You've always known exactly what kind of man Lorenzo Berkshire is. He's not one to overwhelm with his presence, but rather a relentless force, a perpetual energy that never fades. A silent protector, yet also a silent aggressor. He's a master of masking his anger, of controlling it with a precision that borders on chilling, only bringing it out to protect what's his.

Perhaps, you realize, he's the most dangerous kind of man of all.

"Always acting as my shield," you can barely get the words out, your voice soft and reverent, as though speaking in prayer. "My silent knight."

"Mm." Enzo's lips curve into a sardonic smile against your temple. "Only fitting for an angel."

His hands roam up your hips with a possessive urgency, pulling you closer to him until there's barely an inch of space between your bodies. His face buries into your hair, his breath stirring the strands as he holds you close, fingers digging into your waist.

"I know you didn't offer him what's mine," it's not a question, but a statement of absolute conviction, spoken with the confidence of a seer who reads the future unraveling before them. "I know I fuck you too good for that."

"You're right, Enz," you concede, lids fluttering shut, folding faster than a lawn chair in tornado season. How could you not, when he's exerting this kind of influence over you? "I didn't."

You still had no idea why the two of you were out here. And at this point, it was hardly an afterthought.

"Then what's your play here, angel," he growls through a groan, a ferocious intensity ignited in the way he's squeezing you, pressing your hips back against the tree. "What the fuck are you trying to do to me."

Your lips part, poised to release the words swirling within your mind, when a sound pricks your ears. Not a sound of your own making. Something distant, yet distinct.

In an instant, your eyes snap open, but the darkness shrouds any clear view, offering only faint glimpses of looming branches and rustling leaves. Enzo remains oblivious, seemingly consumed by the frustrated desire you've so eagerly drawn from him.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, a futile attempt to push him back. "Enzo—"

"Are you trying to test me, angel?" Deep as the forest depths. As dark as them, too. His hands leave your hips and find your wrists, pinning them back against the bark above your head. "Make me jealous, yeah?"

There's another sound, now, drawing closer. You blink up at the complicated man before you, fluttering eyelashes fanning the crease of your lid. Bark burns into your skin as his intensity increases, body sweating under the heat of his eyes as they drip down at you, fever rising by the second— fear and arousal mingling as one.

"Enz-" you hardly have time to breathe before his lips are on your neck, and he's sucking. Hard. "Fuck."

Adrenaline surges you, rushing your lungs with rapid breath, sparks of lust snapping over your skin. Enzo has vanished, replaced by a storm cloud brewing with ominous intent, his once collected demeanour now a loaded gun with a cocked trigger. He was primed to annihilate, eager to erupt. You cursed yourself for pushing him to this brink, at this precise moment, as an impending threat loomed closer with unmistakable certainty.

A gasp escaped your lips as Enzo's teeth sank into your neck, branding you with purple pleasured marks of his possession.

"Enzo, damn it-" your voice is ragged, his lips trailing to the other side of your throat, the hold on your wrist growing tighter. You had to warn him. You didn't want him to stop. Your thoughts jumbled, your brain grappling with what to articulate first, settling on the throbbing pain in your wrists. "Gentle—"

Enzo groans against your neck, rolling his hips into you, fucking fire over every available expanse of flesh.

"Gentle." His breath tickles your neck, your thighs trembling, seeking friction as your hips move in rhythm with his. "I'll fuck you right here against this tree and the last fucking thing I'll be is gentle." A plea balloons in you, knocking teeth, choking. He senses it--a grin crawling across his lips in response. "That's what you wanted after all, isn't it angel?"

Nothing could stop the moan from fleeing your lips as he smirks against your pulse. Not even Merlin himself. Gripping the back of your head, Enzo crashes his lips to yours--hurried and unrelenting, the plush entirety soft and sweet and insatiable against your own. As quick as a lightening strike, you're drowning in his sugar, another realization settling on you like an encroaching dawn just how much of a taste you've developed for it. For him.

Then, he pulls away, breathing a command against your lips. "Run."

Your gut bottoms out--fear instantly drawn to the forefront of your ignorantly blissed brain--and before you can catch your breath or summon your stamina or attempt to direct some blood flow from your cunt back up to your head he's already propelling you forward, dragging you through the forest with a grip that could crush steel. Roots and branches blur past, the forest a chaotic whirlwind of greens and browns below your feet.

And it feels like hours, perhaps even years of running and dodging before Enzo finally slows his pace. You're both panting, gasping, chests heaving, but his urgency perseveres, gaze scanning the clearing as if in search of something, and then you see it, too—an old greenhouse tucked behind a few large trees, clearly abandoned.

Before you can process it, he's already on the move again, dragging you toward it.

He whips open the door and practically hurls you inside—the aged wood creaking on rusty hinges as it swings wide. His eyes, sharp as flint, dart back to survey the clearing you just fled from, and whatever he sees there seems to set his nerves on edge because before you can even blink he's striding toward you, his grip resuming its vice around your wrist as he pulls you toward a small supply closet.

You feel like a ragdoll. It's starting to get real fucking old. "Enzo-"

The words dissolve on your tongue when in an instant you find yourself inside the minuscule expanse of the closet, shelves stacked with gardening supplies, Enzo's breath pouring over the back of your neck, his body so fucking close to yours you can't take a breath without touching him. Reaching over you, he shuts the door and locks the two of you inside, engulfing you in a darkness so thick you can almost feel it clinging to your skin.

Then, there's silence, and suddenly you're aware of every inch of your existence, from the breath leaving your lungs to the sweat crawling behind your knees. Enzo shifts, as if uncomfortable, his crotch pressed firm against your ass and you can almost taste the intensity radiating from his eyes as his hands grip your waist, pulling you back against him with a force that makes breathing normally a distant dream.

"Poachers." He mutters against your neck.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you process his words, the gravity of the situation settling over you like a suffocating blanket. Poachers. You try to steady your breathing, but it's like trying to contain a storm within a teacup.

Your throats arid. "What do we do?"

You shift to adjust your stance, the sensation of Enzo's erratic exhales against your neck making your entire body tingle--and at your movements, he huffs, his grip on your waist tightening, his fingers pressing into your skin with an urgency that matches the pounding of your heart.

"We wait." He murmurs, his voice rough, like gravel underfoot. "Stop moving."

You need to shut up, but you can't. "And if they come in here? If they find u-"

Enzo's hand clamps over your mouth, silencing your words with a firm yet gentle grip, embodying the duality of his character. Strong yet soft. Cold yet warm. Your pulse quickens, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. Only Lorenzo Berkshire could evoke such contradictory sensations, stirring arousal in the face of danger.

"Shh," he cooes against your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Trust me."

Lungs hitching, you nod, though the gesture is barely perceptible beneath his palm. He doesn't free your mouth, however, instead choosing to tease your earlobe with his teeth, his free hand on your abdomen, holding you tight against him.

"You can do that, right, angel?" his tone as soft as feathers, a gentle coaxing that wraps around you like a warm blanket. "You trust me."

There's that inflection again. As right as rain. You know he's fully fucking aware that the way he's speaking to you is calming you down, just as he knows you trust him implicitly. You wouldn't have been out here in the first place if you didn't.

And just as you go to nod, to give him the best answer you can provide to his non-question, his lips descend, claiming your pulse, his grip over your mouth intensifying as he attacks it--slow and silent and determined, your back arching and your lids fluttering in response.

"Mhm, you know I've got you," his free hand trails up your stomach, slowing just as his thumb reaches the underwire of your bra. "Always have."

In defiance of your good judgment, you clench, a shiver of longing fluttering over you. You groan against his hand, his growing desire pushing against your ass as evident and desperate as his movements. Darkness cloaks the closet, stealing your sense of sight yet all the others are overwhelmed by him. He's all-consuming, everywhere, everything—

"But this," five poised fingers start to glide down your stomach, his lips shifting back to your ear. "Is what you get for testing me."

Your skin jumps at the caress of his fingers tracing deceptively timid over your hips, thighs, like he hasn't done this before, like it's care and not punishment. His favourite oxymoron: the gentlest torture, the cruelest succour. You shudder, arching into him, searching for friction, and he tsks you, shaking his head.

"You wanted gentle, didn't you, angel?" The tease in his tone makes you want to choke him. Sort of makes you want him to choke you, too. "Consider this my version of it. Be good."

His fingers slither under the band of your leggings, a slow, torturous crawl toward the epicenter of your longing. Your hands grasp for purchase in the darkness, but there's nothing substantial to hold onto, just like the ephemeral sensation of his touch. He's both intimidating and unnervingly gentle, leading you to the brink of ruin with calculated precision.

You whimper under his palm, hips jerking toward his touch, desperate for more, but it only causes him to go slower. He coos another command to be quiet, a teasing taunt dripping with wicked delight, and you can practically feel the satisfaction pouring from his lips. He's laser-focused on unraveling you, on making you utterly undone before giving you what you crave most.

When his index finger grazes over your clit, you audibly groan, head falling back against his shoulder.

"You can't rush penance, angel," his mouth opens in a smile against your ear, though it feels more like barred teeth. That smile is as much deadly as it is pretty. "Let it simmer."

Every nerve in your body is on high alert, trembling with the intensity of his touch. You're swallowing air with a moan stuck in your throat; too dry, you realize, and feel like you're choking when he starts to move lower, two fingers shifting your panties to the side and slicking through your folds.

"So wet." He's barely audible now, even as he's breathing the words into your eardrums. "Mm, so fucking wet."

Before you can prepare for it, those same two fingers inch inside you, and curl. Your eyes roll, his palm pulling your head back tight against his shoulder as he slowly finger fucks deep into you--in and out in perfect rhythm, the sloppy sounds emanating from your cunt filling the dark, steaming space and making your skin prickle with hot shame—you're fucking dripping for him.

He growls, low in his chest, and instinctively your legs spread wider, inviting him deeper, inviting him to inebriate you further. You're caught in the perfect balance of his contradiction, teetering on the edge between disciple and devil. He worships you in one breath and ruins you in the next. A wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Mine." Is all he mutters, before there's a sound outside the door, and you both freeze.

Footsteps.

Almost immediately, you're ripped from the derogatory haze you'd just found yourself in—your body stiffens, tension coiling through your limbs like icy tendrils, turning your blood to frost. Enzo's fingers slow, though they remain inside you, adjusting ever-so-slightly to avoid the slick sounds your cunt makes every time he moves. You feel his teeth tease your ear, his silent way of telling you to calm down. That he's got you.

The footsteps draw closer, and there's no mistaking it—someone, most definitely multiple someone's, are lurking just outside the door—in search, of you.

But before you can even entertain the thought, before it has a chance to sink in and settle in the recesses of your mind, Enzo crooks his fingers against a spot that sends sparks flying behind your eyelids, his thumb applying just enough pressure to your clit to send you hurtling into a realm of sensation he introduces you to regularly, but not one you were prepared to face in this moment, under these circumstances.

You grit your teeth, the urge to scream clawing at the back of your throat like a caged animal desperate for freedom. Enzo is ruthless, merciless, driving you to the very edge and daring you to jump--driving you to the edge of sanity and forcing you to suppress the tidal wave of pleasure threatening to consume you whole.

The footsteps grow louder, veer closer, before they slow. Before they stop.

It's cataclysmic, catastrophic—a blaze raging in an open battlefield, a hellfire during open warfare. You hardly have a second to comprehend the sheer insanity of what you're engaged in before Enzo's pace intensifies and he yanks your head back against his shoulder with even more force, to the point you're certain the back of your skull will leave an indent on his skin.

His lips brush against your ear, practically daring you to cum— daring you to keep resisting.

"It's clear," a voice rings out, neither yours nor Enzo's. Footsteps pick back up and draw further away. "Let's move out."

And then, it's over. A weight lifts off your shoulders, a tidal wave crashing over you. Your body erupts, convulses, squeezing around Enzo's fingers and trembling against him as your climax charges through you like a raging bull, unstoppable and overwhelming.

You scream behind his palm, knees threatening to give out from under you, the gates of heaven themselves coming into clear fucking view.

"Good girl." He husks in your ear, working you through your high, his chest rising and falling against your back, the hunger evident in his words. "My little angel was so fucking good...I think she deserves a reward, doesn't she?"

You nod, the fervent desire for more evident in the desperate plea that crawls past your lips, only to be muffled by his palm. Enzo's groan reverberates against your ear, his erection painfully hard against your ass. With a swift motion, he withdraws his hand from your lips, unlocking the door and shoving it open, propelling you forward with a commanding grip on your hips.

He wastes no time in pushing you up against an old wooden table, the rough surface biting into your skin as he yanks your leggings down your thighs. His hand finds its way into your hair, gripping a fistful and pulling your head back toward his mouth, his lips hungry and insistent against your own. Meanwhile, his free hand works quickly to undo his belt, his urgency evident as he prepares to take what he desires.

"Did you like that, angel?" He breathes against your panting mouth, his eyes barely open, his belt hitting the ground at his feet. "You like what I fucking did to you?"

"Yes—" you're choked by a gasp as he slicks his length between your thighs. "Gods-fuck, yes!"

"Yeah, you did. Fuck, I should have edged you, I shouldn't have let you cum," his voice is wanton, despite himself. You're not even sure if he knows what he's saying. "But I can't fucking help myself. I fucking love ruining you."

He positions himself at your entrance, the tension in the air thick as molasses. With a single swift motion, he plunges into you, a symphony of pleasure and pain ripping through you as he fills you completely in one long, deep thrust. You gasp, your nails digging into the wooden surface beneath you as his grip in your hair tightens, the other latched onto your hip to hold you steady.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, breath hot on your jawline. His hand shifts to grasp your jaw, pulling your lips back to his. "Always so fucking tight for me."

You can only whimper in response, his pace ruthless, and unhinged and unpredictable as always. His fervour is all the reminder of how you got here in the first place; the teeth, the force, the grip on your waist. There's a rough sound he makes in your mouth that you taste more than you hear.

He is what he is, until he isn't. Until he's someone else completely.

You're clutching at the desk and screaming into his mouth as his fingers find your clit again and amidst the onslaught you're hit by the realization that this man is everything—simultaneously overwhelming and subtle, too much yet not enough. He's a feeling that engulfs you, swallowing you whole until it fills your lungs, leaving you choking on the intensity of it all. Your lips move against his in perfect synchrony, your eyelashes fluttering with each powerful smack of his hips as he drives himself deep inside you, over and over and over again.

"Enz—" you sob through the kiss but he doesn't give you enough air to do it.

He pushes harder, a rasp at the back of his throat, some carnal thing. When he withdraws his lips from yours, his brows are furrowed in concentration. There's a fine lustre of sweat on his forehead, stray strands pulled across gleaming honeyed eyes.

"Cum," you swear it's a plea. You hear the desperation as much as you feel it. "Cum for me."

Your head lulls back as shocks of pleasure course through your body, the coil snapped, addled through the ecstasy, barely conscious of the way his panted breaths hitch at the sight of you in his hands, soft-eyed and puddled for him, broken by his touch, stripped of all structure just to be held up by his own. The sight and feel of you erupting sends him over the edge, his groan rumbling against your temple.

"Fucking hell—" his hips stutter, his breath does too, his lashes fanning as he pours his cum deep inside you. "Fuck."

You sink against him as he finally comes to a slow, thighs numb and wet, one hand slipping dumbly from the desk and running up through your hair, pushing sticky strands back from your forehead. The second orgasm is an aftershock of the first, it takes forever to recover from it, and before you can even register the movements Enzo has already pulled out, done up his pants and is helping you pull yours back up your still-trembling thighs.

As you turn to face him, he pulls you in. You kiss lazily and softly. The room feels sheeted in static. The electricity lingers on both of you.

When he pulls back, you let the first thing in your mind slip past your teeth. "You're unbelievable, Enzo."

He smirks, wetting his lips before leaning down and planting a small peck on the top of your head. "I'm yours, angel."

Lorenzo Berkshire is what he is, and what he is, is yours.

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 25/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words. Tags will be added as the story is written.

⊹👩🏼‍💻 From the author: Almost the Christmas part. There's a lot going on here, and you'll also see Jungkook in action in the mafia stuff. What do you think about it? Did I do a good job with his character? 🥺 An amazing trip to Japan becomes a turning point. Thank you very much to everyone who reads 💜

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You know that I appreciate you very much and love you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋 Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 12: Christmas trip to Niseko.

Jungkook was sitting in a spacious office with panoramic windows that overlooked Seoul at night. The office of some kind of food company. A pretty good-looking one, judging by the look of the place.

Thick cigarette smoke was gathering under the ceiling, and in front of him, at a massive desk, sat a client of their services.

The man in the expensive suit was constantly adjusting his tie, trying not to make eye contact with Jungkook. Jungkook didn't want to be here, and he had no desire to extort money from this miserable man. But that was his job. He was sitting in the man's office and acting like he owner the place.

"We had a deal!" - Jungkook said, slowly shifting a heavy black metal fist in his hands, a symbol that no refusal would be accepted. His voice sounded indifferent, but with a hint of threat. "You put your money on our fighter, we make sure he wins, and you pay the agreed upon share."

"I... I understand..." - The man began, wiping sweat from his forehead. "But my business is going through a tough time. I just need a little more time..."

Jungkook leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and his voice became even quieter, but no less menacing.

"Your 'hard times' are not our concern. Namjoon has entrusted me with this matter, and I will not leave this office until I get what is due."

The man tried to look calm, but his fingers were trembling. He hesitated for a few more seconds and then walked over to the safe in his office. It was hidden behind a painting on the wall and he took out the wads of bills.

"Everything should be here. I didn't want to delay you... It just happened that..." - The man brought the money to the table and put it down carefully.

Jungkook took the money, counting it carefully before tossing the envelope on the table next to the couch where Jimin was sitting. He silently collected it and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Jimin then took out the letter of commitment and tore it up in front of the man, who was pale with fear.

"Honesty is what keeps Namjoon's business afloat." - Jungkook said as he stood up. "Remember that the next time you want to delay a payment."

Jungkook and Jimin got into a black Mercedes Gelentwagen and pulled out of the parking lot. Their car was followed by a similar black Mercedes Viano. Jungkook drove the car, while Jimin checked his phone.

"How annoying are these assholes." - Jimin broke the silence. Jungkook listened attentively, but he was thinking about his own. "It was only 100 million won, and it took so much time." - Jimin complained.

"Yoongi asked us to do it, otherwise Namjoon would have been angry. You know he likes when to pay on time. Besides, I told you I could go by myself." - Jungkook explained why it was necessary.

"Whatever. I just wanted to walk my ass. It's been a long time since I've done this kind of work." - Jimin said and smiled.

"Then why are you complaining?" - Jungkook asked.

"I'm annoyed by these worthless bastards who still think they can bargain with us." - Jungkook nodded his head in agreement.

"What about the devices? Did you find out what happened to them? Why were they all corrupted?" - Jungkook asked, ending the previous conversation.

"Yes, I found out." - Jimin says slowly while texting someone. Jungkook waits patiently for a reply as he glances over at Jimin. He finishes and locks his phone. He gets comfortable in the seat and speaks. "Doohoon switched the devices when the shipment left Japan. He also forged the documents, so their logistics company was listed. It was stupid, to be honest. He should have just done it through a left-wing small company. But we would have known it was him anyway. With the help of the subsidiary, I figured it out in two minutes."

"I see. Do you know where the working devices are?" - Jungkook asked after listening to Jimin.

"I know. Niseko is on the island of Hokkaido." - He replied. Jungkook was a quick think. He could organize a trip there under the guise of some business with his Japanese partners. Pick up the devices and try to sell them again. And he'd deal with Doohoon as soon as he was done with this case.

"Listen, Jimin." - Jungkook wanted to share his thoughts. "What if I fly to Japan and return these devices and try to sell them? By myself." - Jimin smiles at Jungkook's idea.

"Are you ready to organize all this shit and fly to Japan?" - Jimin asks.

"You got any better ideas? If Namjoon finds out that Doohoon did this, everyone will get hurt. And me the most. I don't want to add another 50 million dollars to my debt." - Jungkook argues. Jimin agreed with Jungkook's statement.

"You're in luck, my dear friend." - Jimin suddenly says. Jungkook tries to understand what his words mean. "Yoongi came to visit yesterday. He told me that Doohoon's father is negotiating with our partners in Japan. He wants them to directly cover the transportation without us. In return, he's offering them a special deal - to transport their goods all over Asia for next to nothing." - Jungkook raises his eyebrows. Like father and like son. Why are they such a pain in the ass?

"Does Namjoon know?" - Jungkook asks.

"Yes. That's why Yoongi is asking me and Taehyung to go to Japan to check this information and meet with Kazuhiro Yamada. I can take you with me so you can do some work with the devices. You can also help us with the negotiations. The more you work on company business, the more you'll be in the boss’s good graces. Besides, it's Christmas next week, so we'll celebrate it by going skiing." - Jimin suggested.

Jungkook is really lucky. This business with the Japanese mafia member has come at the perfect time. He needs to use it to avoid the disaster that awaits him.

He's going to fly to Japan and he's worried that it might take a long time. Maybe 5 days or even a whole week. He can't leave you without him for that long.

He might try to put a guard around you, but you might react aggressively to that. Probably, he should be sent you to your parents for Christmas, but he's not sure if it will be safe either. There, Doohoon will be able to pursue you even more brazenly than here. He will try to gain your parents' trust by referring to school friendships. In addition, he can present himself to your parents as a cool heir to a large company, and then they will definitely lose their vigilance. Under no circumstances should you be left alone.

"Jimin-hyun." - Jungkook calls out. "You do realize that I can't leave Y/N alone in Seoul, given Doohoon’s sick antics. I have to take her with me." - Jimin thought seriously about Jungkook's words.

"Jungkook, it's risky. We won't be alone, and the cause we're traveling for is serious. I don't think Y/N will be safe there with us. Should we put a guard around her? I can order my brother to follow her." - Jungkook presses his lips together. He nervously plays with his lip piercing. No, that's not an option. He'll worry too much. If Doohoon finds out that Jungkook isn't around, he'll act. Jungkook doesn't like him being quiet and deceptively calm as it is.

"No. I’m taking she with. We'll pretend it's a Christmas trip to a ski resort. I'll be calm if she's in front of my eyes." - Jungkook stood his ground. Jimin quickly gave up. He knows Jungkook, if he's worried about something, he'll do it his way.

"Good. Then Y/N will come with us. She'll be happy, I think." - Jimin thought. "Want to sleep in the same room with her to make sure Doohoon isn't stalking her?" - He joked. Jimin looked up from the road and noticed Jungkook's sly smile.

"Good idea, Hyung. I couldn't think of a way to sleep in the same bed with her." - Jungkook replied sarcastically. Jimin laughed.

"Dude, this is a good opportunity to fuck her with romance and not just at home on the couch." - Jimin suggested. His voice is too cheerful.

"I'll think about it." - Jungkook only says.

"Go ahead and admit it to your best friend and favorite, Hyung. You're fucking her." - Jimin tries to find out the truth for the umpteenth time. He doesn't believe in Jungkook's excuses. The way he protects and cares for you speaks for itself.

"Why are you so interested in this? I don't care who you're fucking." - Jungkook replies.

"You live together and look like a couple. You should get together. She's a good girlfriend for you." - Jimin assures.

"A good girlfriend for me..." - Jungkook repeats his friend's words quietly. "But I'm a bad boyfriend for her." - He says with bitterness in his voice.

"She wouldn't turn her back on you if she knew who you really are. That's why I say you're perfect for each other. I've known her for a short time, though. I have a talent for reading people." - Jimin reassures Jungkook. He doesn't answer and continues to drive, heading to “Mono Corp”.

You are blinded by the daylight, which is enhanced by the abundance of snow around you. The frosty air of Niseko greeted you with a sharp gust of wind that made you wrap yourself even tighter in your down jacket. Even the warm scarf wrapped around your head couldn't protect you from the small snowflakes flying into your face.

The snow-covered mountain slopes sparkled around him, and the Art Nouveau buildings blended harmoniously into the winter landscape.

Jungkook confidently stepped to the black minivan, shaking the snow off his heavy boots. His gaze slid across the parking lot in nearly airport, where expensive cars were parked. The other guys followed him out: Jimin was adjusting his hat with a slight smile, Taehyung was holding his camera, taking pictures of the beauty around him, and Hoseok and Jin were having a fun argument about whether they would go skiing or save it for tomorrow.

You remember Jungkook coming home earlier than usual two days ago. He asked you about your plans for Christmas. You suggested that he go to Suwon. But he made you a better offer. Jimin wanted to go to a ski resort in Japan. So he suggested it to Jungkook and a few friends. Jungkook said he would go, but only if you went with them.

You'll be a little confused. Celebrating Christmas in Japan is very cool. But why is Jungkook so insistent that you go? That's suspicious. Maybe he's nervous about Doohoon again? Anyway, Jungkook carefully left you with no choice. So this year, instead of Suwon, you'll be celebrating Christmas in Niseko.

You've never seen anything like it before. Niseko looked like a postcard: a small town with narrow, snow-covered streets that resembled a fairy-tale maze.

The air was piercingly clean and fresh, making every breath seem cold and new. Here and there, neat houses with roofs that bent under the weight of the snow stood on the roadsides, and wooden signs in Japanese added charm to the local flavor.

The city center had a special atmosphere: the noise of coffee shops, the smell of hot chocolate and ginger, and the laughter of tourists and skiers returning from the slopes with red cheeks and shining eyes. Small shops with oriental souvenirs, red lanterns swaying in the wind, and soft light from the lamps created a warm, cozy aura in the middle of a snowstorm.

When you all arrived at the hotel, you felt heart sink. A tall wooden building stylized in traditional Japanese design, but with elements of modern design. The sleek dark glass facade that reflected the surrounding mountains and neon accents created the impression of an ultra-modern building that stood aloof in the snowy landscape. Large panoramic windows offered a view of the snow-capped mountains, which seemed so close that you could touch them with your hand.

Expensive SUVs were parked at the entrance, under a wide canopy, and hotel staff in matching black coats were helping guests with their luggage.

"Not bad." - You muttered, gazing at the luxury that seemed a little cold, but alluring.

The guys left the minivan and you set off to checking into the rooms. It had been a long journey and you were tired.

Inside, the atmosphere was completely different. The hotel greeted you with warm light and high-tech style, combining metal structures, mirrored ceilings and soft furniture in muted colors.

In the center of the lobby was a huge installation in the form of a waterfall - water flowed smoothly over the glass, creating a quiet, soothing noise. The walls were covered with large LED panels with animated landscapes - either starry skies or snow-capped peaks that looked almost real.

You turned your head in different directions, looking around and admiring every detail. This hotel is so luxurious, you didn't expect to live there during holidays. A night here must cost a fortune.

But you were even more embarrassed when you were escorted to the floor where it turned out that only the six of you would be staying.

You were taken up to the VIP floor, where there were three presidential suites. It seemed to be a completely closed floor only for very important guests. You were wildly uncomfortable with this luxury.

You were put in the apartment with Jungkook. Taehyung wanted to suggest that you stay with him, but when he saw Jungkook and Jimin's angry looks, he agreed that you would be more comfortable with your best friend.

The lux apartment was big. It was twice as big as Jungkook's apartment. The interior was minimalist but expensive: gray walls, black furniture with metal elements. There were two separate bedrooms, two bathrooms, a large living room, a sort of dining room that smoothly transitioned into a living room, an office, and a dressing room. On the wall, like in the lobby, there was a screen with landscapes that changed depending on the settings.

You walked around these rooms and didn't understand why everyone decided to live here.

Jungkook met you in the living room in a confused state. He brought in your luggage and came closer. He put his arms around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. Finally, you were alone with no prying eyes.

Your mind was a little foggy. Jungkook's lips and tongue distracted you from the pressing questions that were swarming in your head like bees in a hive.

When you had enjoyed the kiss enough, you decided to ask.

"Kook... this place so expensive. We could have checked into a regular hotel." - You said.

"Why, you don't like it here?" - Jungkook was surprised.

"No. I really like it here. It just seems too expensive. It feels like we're accompanying the president." - You joked.

"It's not the most expensive hotel here. But it's Jimin and Hoseok's favorite place to stay. They vacation here every year." - Jungkook was almost lying. They don't vacation here every year, but they come every time they meet with their Japanese partners. "Don't worry about the money. Just relax." - Jungkook reassures you. You smile and relax. You have to ask Jimin where he gets the money for such a vacation every year.

Jungkook let you go and went to the things that were already in the room. You decided to go to the window. The view was so breathtaking that you could hardly contain your excitement when you saw the snow-covered slopes and the illuminated streets of Niseko shining in the evening light. The huge panoramic window offered a view of the main mountain of the town, whose peak was hidden in the clouds.

But there was something that made you absolutely delighted. It was the jacuzzi on your floor. It was not just a jacuzzi, but a real mini-pool with warm steaming water surrounded by black tiles. It took up almost half of the terrace, and it offered a fantastic view of the mountains, snow-covered forests, and distant ski slopes illuminated by night lights. When you were looking at it with Jungkook, Jimin and Jin, you realized that you couldn’t swim in it. You didn't know there would be a Jacuzzi, so you didn't bring a bathing suit.

"Kook..." - You grabbed Jungkook when he was a little in front of you. Jimin and Jin were looking around the bar behind you.

"What's wrong baby?" - Jungkook turned his head.

"You didn't tell me there was going to be a jacuzzi and I didn't know. I didn't bring my bathing suit." - You said disappointedly looking at the water.

"I'm going to go to the centre city now. Jimin asked me to go with him on business. I'll buy you one, it's no problem." - Jungkook reassured you. You were instantly happy.

"Really? Why didn't I think of that?" - You complained. "Maybe I'll go with you and choose for myself..." - You suggested, but Jungkook interrupted you.

"No. I'm sorry, baby, but we're going to be gone for a long time. We'll be back in the evening..." - You trailed off. "You better get some rest from the road, and we'll all go to a restaurant in the evening. Just tell me what color the swimsuit should be, or better yet, send me a picture." - Jungkook says and leaves without waiting for an answer. You look at him. Did he come here to work or to rest? Is he hiding something again?

"How long will you be gone?" - You ask, throwing it at his back.

"Until the evening, probably. Are you hungry?" - Jungkook suddenly stops and turns to you.

"No." - You reply shortly.

"If you want, order room service. Don't be sad, we'll be back soon." - Jungkook throws in a final word and the three of them leave the terrace, leaving you alone.

You spent most of the day in your room. You tried to sleep from the road, but it didn't work. You called your parents and you talked about the road and you told them that Jungkook had brought you to a nice hotel.

After you talked to your parents, Taehyung and Hoseok came to visit you. You together talked a little about the resort. Hoseok told you that the food here is great and there are many interesting things to do. You were interested in talking to Hoseok. He was nice and smiling all the time.

You were introduced to Hoseok and Jin at the airport when you arrived with Jungkook. Hoseok and Jin are older than Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. All three of them were polite and respectful talks to their oldest.

Although if you looked at Jin, who was the oldest in your group, you had the feeling that he was the youngest. He was constantly making strange but very funny jokes, and Hosok was bursting out laughing every time. You could see that all the guys were very warm with each other and you could even feel they’re like a family.

You were introduced as Jungkook's best friend. Taehyung wanted to make a joke about you and your relationship, that it was on the verge of being serious, but he got a punch in the ribs from Jimin and fell silent.

It was interesting for you to meet new people, especially Jungkook's friends, who turned out to be a lot. And it seems they are not just friends. They were his close friends. Were they all connected by work, or did Jungkook know some of them much earlier? You wanted to know absolutely everything.

When the sun began to set outside, you realized that the room was very boring. Taehyung and Hoseok left, and you spent the rest of the evening watching TV. But it was still very boring. You decided that you would take a walk around the hotel, maybe find something interesting to do until Jungkook and Jimin came back.

Just as you were about to leave the room and headed for the front door, Jungkook walked into the apartment. He was looking at you in surprise, realizing that you were going somewhere. He was holding a black bag with a Mitsukoshi emblem on it, and another black bag which he threw it over his shoulder.

"Going somewhere?" - Jungkook asked as he approached you.

"I wanted to go for a walk." - You said. Jungkook stopped one step away. "You're back sooner than I expected." - You smiled. You were glad that he had already arrived.

"I bought a swimsuit for you." - Jungkook says and hands you a black bag. You mentioned that you didn't send him a photo, which means he bought it to his taste. I wonder what it looks like. Your smile grows even wider and you eagerly take the package in your hands. You walk over to the couch and sit down. You pull out the swimsuit and look at it.

It is a black two-piece swimsuit with an asymmetrical design. The top has one wide strap on one shoulder. There is also an additional horizontal stripe below the chest line. The lower part of the swimsuit is a high-waisted thong that emphasizes the waist.

This swimsuit looks very sexy. You look over at Jungkook, who smiles smugly.

"When you picked out this swimsuit for me, you must have forgotten that we're not alone. Will you be okay with me showing my ass to all the guys?" - You asked ironically.

"Who says they'll all be there when you're in a bathing suit?" - Jungkook asked you. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"You're not going to ban them from the terrace. What if they want to take a Jacuzzi at the same time as me?" - You argued.

"Then let them look at you. I don't mind. You don't have to wear a burka just because of me." - Jungkook replied. You smiled. Well, if Jungkook doesn't mind, that's fine. But you know one hundred percent that he will be jealous of you.

He could have bought you a less revealing swimsuit, but if you already have this one, you don't have to worry. You didn't really want to swim with everyone else, but if it happens, it looks like you'll be in the water until everyone else leaves.

"And you won't be jealous of me?" - You ask, hugging Jungkook's neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and smiles a centimeter from your face.

"I think I'm going to die of jealousy." - Jungkook confesses. You laugh.

"You chose this, so it's your fault." - You say. Jungkook can't stand so close to you without kissing you. So in a moment, your smile disappears under your friend's lips. You feel his tongue, his sweet lips, and moan softly at the sensations.

"Let's go to the jacuzzi. I want to see that swimsuit on you." - Jungkook suggests, pulling away from your lips.

"But the guys are here. We can't go alone." - You warn.

"They're not here. They're gone on business." - Jungkook reassures you.

"Business? Did you come here to work or to rest?" - You said with a bit of dissatisfaction.

"They went to buy equipment for tomorrow's descent from the mountains. I met Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jin in the parking lot when I arrived." - Jungkook explained.

"And Jimin? Did you come without him?" - You ask. Jungkook smiles. You are so inquisitive.

"He met his friend at the mall and went for coffee. I didn't want to sit with them, so I came to you." - Jungkook answered your question. You were happy to have all the answers.

"So can we sit in the jacuzzi together?" - You asked.

"Yes. We have time until they all come back. Go get dressed, I'll change too and I'll wait for you there." - Jungkook says and lets you go.

You go to the terrace, which contains a huge jacuzzi, more like a swimming pool. The light is low, and the sun is setting outside. It paints the tops of mountains and houses red and it's a magical sight.

Jungkook is sitting in the water. His hair is wet and drops of water are running down his face. It looks like he's been taking a dip. Steam is coming out of the tub, and the terrace itself is stuffy. You can feel the steam enveloping your body as soon as you get inside.

Jungkook watches you as you approach. You take off your robe and find yourself wearing only a swimsuit. It fits you perfectly, emphasizing your lush and appetizing forms.

Jungkook looks at you greedily, biting his lip. He bites his piercing to quench the desire he has for you in your swimsuit.

You enter the water, feeling how hot it is. It instantly gives you goosebumps.

When you are completely in the water, you close your eyes. The hot water relaxes your body and you feel that all the tiredness that you had somewhere disappears. You open your eyes and meet Jungkook's attentive gaze. This lasts for a while and then he swims towards you. The sun is hiding behind him and you are impressed by this picture.

Jungkook swims up and captures you in his arms.

"Jungkook!" - You protest. "What if someone comes in..." - You warn, but you don't finish your sentence because Jungkook is already kissing you. You feel his strong body pressed against you in the water. You wrap your legs around his waist and kiss him back. You have an uneasy feeling. Anyone can come to the terrace and see you kissing. Jungkook grabs your tongue and sucks on it. You press closer to his body and feel his hands on your buttocks. He squeezes them, but the pressure is not great because of the water.

You pull away first, because the fear of being caught red-handed is stronger than your desire.

"I want to fuck you." - Jungkook says. You smile. Of course you want to, but not here.

"I want you too. But we're not going to have sex here." - You say.

"Then let's go to the bathhouse." - He suggests. This option is more attractive. You look at his handsome face and you are already burning to do it.

"Let's wait until the evening and do it in bed." - You suggest. But Jungkook doesn't hear you. He grabs your hand and leads you away from the water. You run after them, protesting.

Your body is steaming, red from the hot water. Jungkook's body is as hot as yours. He is wearing a pair of swimming trunks. He drags you into the bathhouse, which is quite large, and immediately closes the door and pounces on you with kisses. You respond with no less passion.

Jungkook's hand squeezes your buttocks hard. You feel yourself getting wet. Jungkook is pressing down on you with his whole body. His cock is pressing against your pussy and you want him to fuck you.

Jungkook breaks the kiss to go down on your neck. He kisses you carefully so as not to leave any marks. His hand simultaneously hooks the strap of your swimsuit top and lowers it around your waist. Your breasts are exposed, and Jungkook hurries to pay them proper attention.

You don't stand idle either. While he's busy kissing your nipples, you slide your hand into his trunks and find his length. You feel his glans and caress it with your finger. You feel the lubricant leaking from the end on your fingers and his cock twitches. You pull his swim trunks off, leaving them just above his knees, and pump your hand up his aroused length.

Jungkook feels your hand and stops kissing your breasts. He leans his head against your shoulder with a guttural moan and steals his hand somewhere near your head to enjoy your handiwork.

You pump his cock with quick strokes and feel its length harden with each movement. In the moment, you let go of his cock and touch his balls with your fingers, stroking them lightly. He hisses somewhere near your ear. You smile and turn your head to him and whisper in his ear.

"Let me suck your cock." - Your voice is seductive, gentle. Jungkook looks up at you with a blurred gaze and smiles defiantly. It means he's agree.

You sit down on a bench in the bathhouse. It's not high, and it's just perfect for Jungkook to stand comfortably in front of your face. You salivate at the sight of his swollen, erect cock. It's right in front of your mouth as Jungkook takes off his boxers and spreads his legs to make it comfortable for him to stand.

You lick your lips to get them wet and take Jungkook's length in your hands. He stops you for a second and leans in to kiss you one last time before you start blowjob. He kisses only your lips and then runs his tongue along your lower lip. Then he lets go and you get to work.

First, you lick the salty pre-cum that drips from the end of his cock. You take only the head into your mouth and pump your head a few times. Jungkook moans somewhere above your head. He is enjoying your warm, friendly mouth. He holds the back of your head with his hand and looks down at your lips, which perfectly envelop his cock.

Then you plunge his length deeper into your mouth and move your head back and forth. Saliva collects in your mouth and runs down your chin and out the corner of your mouth. You breathe deeply through your nose and try to take Jungkook's cock further into your mouth. He moans from above and the low bass makes you leak onto your trunks.

Jungkook grabs your hair and, like the first time, tilts your head to slide down his cock better. He's getting hard, and you can feel it with your tongue. But your jaw already hurts. Jungkook's cock is so big that you have to open your mouth wide, and your jaw gets tired and starts to hurt.

You think you can hold out until Jungkook comes, but he has other plans for you. He takes you off his cock, holding you by your hair. You look at him with innocent eyes, trying to understand what he wants.

"You suck my cock so well, baby. But I want to have your little pussy." - He says. You wipe away the saliva that has stained your face. Jungkook sits down next to you and takes your hand.

He makes you stand up and picks you up and puts you between his legs. He takes off your swim trunks and touches your labia with his hands. He swears at your excessive wetness. He puts his fingers in your entrance with one hand. With the other, he caresses your swollen clit.

You grab Jungkook's shoulders and try to stand on your feet. You moan with pleasure and Jungkook's skillful movements.

"Come on, baby, sit on my cock." - Jungkook invites you in a friendly manner. You don't have a condom and it might be risky. Jungkook must be reading your mind and is quick to reassure you. "I'll get you off in time." - Your friend assures you.

You agree and spread your legs to sit on top of him.

Jungkook holds his cock in his hands and guides it toward your entrance.

"Remember to be careful. Take your time and go slowly." - Jungkook says, tilting his head back to look at your face. His care was sweet.

You hold onto his shoulders as you lower yourself onto his cock. You bite your lip to hold back the slight pain and the feeling of his length inside you. You'll never get tired of this feeling.

When you've swallowed Jungkook's cock completely, you sit for a while to get used to it. Chonguk kisses your lips to fill the pause.

Just when you want to start moving, you hear someone's voice.

"Is someone here?" - You hear Jimin's voice. You are terrified. You squeeze Jungkook's shoulders. Your eyes are like 10 wons.

"Be quiet." - Jungkook whispers to you. He sees your scared eyes and tries to calm you down. He holds your buttocks in his hands and squeezes them to keep you still. It's a good thing Jungkook closed the door to the bathhouse.

You look at Jungkook with big eyes, and you hear your own heartbeat. Maybe a minute passes, maybe more, and you hear only silence. It looks like Jimin has left.

"Should we go? Let's finish this later tonight?" - You suggest in a whisper. But Jungkook is against it. He raises his eyebrows and whispers in displeasure.

"How am I going to leave with a hard-on?" - You look at his expression for a second and laugh softly. Jungkook doesn't share your mirth. He's not leaving this bathhouse until your pussy makes him come.

"Don't be mad, sweetie. I wasn't thinking. Let's finish the adventure ride quickly." - Jungkook laughs at your joke, and without warning, he shoves you hard. You scream in surprise and dig your nails into his soft body.

You get used to the sensations and start jumping on his lap too. His cock plunges deep with every movement. You feel dizzy with pleasant pleasure. You moan softly.

"My good girl." - Jungkook whispers into your neck. "Are you feeling good?"

"Yes." - You exhale.

"Come on my girl, cum on my cock." - Jungkook urges you. You speed up your movements and do as he asks. You feel yourself cumming with fierce pleasure. Jungkook continues to fuck you so that he can come too.

When he feels close, he grabs your hips and lifts you up sharply. You lift off his lap to a small height. You fall a little further onto his lap and Jungkook cums on his stomach. You watch breathlessly as he stops ejaculating. His semen runs down his stomach and he breathes rapidly. You lock eyes and both of you smile.

"It's fucking amazing!" - Jungkook says, louder than he should be. You hiss at him.

"Keep your voice down." - You complain. He smiles and takes your neck, pulling you into a kiss. You soften when his lips are against yours.

"You go first, I'll get cleaned up." - Jungkook says as he lets you go and you stand up from his lap.

Like that cat without a sound, you find yourself in the room almost instantly without meeting anyone on your way. Feeling like you've just had an orgasm, you hurry to the bathroom and take a quick shower. You're happy because you just had the most incredible sex with Jungkook. It's a beautiful place with a cozy atmosphere. Your mood is just perfect and nothing seems to be able to spoil it.

You put on a warm mint-green knit sweater with a deep V-neck and voluminous braids, and pull dark gray straight jeans with a high rise over your hips. You decide that you're going to wait for Jungkook in the room.

You're just clicking on your phone when you hear something fall in the next room. This is the room where Jungkook is supposed to be sleeping. You put the phone down and go to the room.

You walk in and run your eyes around. Everything seems to be in place and nothing has fallen. But suddenly, a slightly open closet door catches your attention. Something black looks out of it.

You approach the closet and notice that it is a bag. It is large and seems heavy. Somewhere on the side it is propped up by another bag, similar to the one you saw in Jungkook's hands. Most likely, this bag has moved the big one with its weight.

You grab the fallen bag by the handles, but it is too heavy. The sound of metal reaches your ears. You unzips, want to what could be so heavy in that bag.

You are frozen. The contents of this bag scare you to say the least. Hell, it scares the hell out of you.

Weapons. This bag is filled to the brim with weapons of all kinds. From small pistols to assault rifles. You open the bag wider and see ammunition, too. A lot of ammunition. Knives and what looks like stun guns. You pick up one of the pistols with trembling hands and look at it with eyes full of horror. It is heavy and cold.

You feel panic filling every cell in your body. Why does Jungkook have so many guns? Is he selling them? Is he going to kill someone with these weapons? Isn't a trip to Japan just about celebrating Christmas?

↰ Previous chapter ⋮ ≣ Index ↓ ⋮ Next chapter ↱

[finelinevogue]

the best thing

summary - you hate harry after that one night together, but when you need someone the most he will always be there

a/n : mentions of sexual assault, quite intense scenes, crying, angst, drunkeness

word count : +3.8k

pairing : ceo!harry x reader

You don’t know how you got here.

One minute you were eating crisps at home and watching reruns of Friends, then the next thing you know you’re at an exclusive event in the centre of London with your best friend; Leia.

Apparently, your best friend is now dating some actor who is in with all the A-list celebrities and so she can get into all these cool events now.

This party was hosted by none other than Harry Styles, billionaire and CEO of StylesTech. He happened to be the one man on Earth who you absolutely despised. Well, maybe he wasn’t the only one.

Harry became a celebrity when he got put on the front cover of GQ’s magazine for sexiest man alive four times. That’s right… four.

Harry was friends with James, your best friends new boyfriend, and had said she could also invite a plus one. The more the merrier was what Leia had said over the phone.

Now you were here.

Some rooftop bar in the heights of London. The lighting was very low, the music was very loud and the room was completely packed.

There was a dance floor where people were grinding more than dancing. There was a bar, which apparently was a free-bar. There was panoramic views of the city and tiny people below, making you feel like a Goddess up here in the clouds.

“We’re going to get drinks, you coming?” Leia asked you, James tugging on her hand to move them through the crowd.

“Yeah.” You nodded and grabbed onto her open hand.

You weaved through the crowds, apologising for people you bumped into.

You felt slightly too single here. Everyone seemed to be clinging onto someone and yet you were clinging on to a couple - third-wheeling to be precise.

When you reached the bar Leia and James ordered together, leaving you wait for another waiter to come to help you.

You waited a few more moments, before someone whistled behind you like they were calling over a dog.

“Oi, Henry. Serve this lady now.”

You turned around with a disgusted look on your face, only to be met with Harry Styles in front of you. He smirked at you when he noticed your facial expression.

You scoffed and turned back to Henry. “Don’t worry yourself about me. You can finish whatever job you were doing, hun.” You smiled at the young boy, who looked terrified of his boss behind you.

“No, he won’t.” Harry came and stood beside you. “She’ll have a vodka cranberry with ice.”

“She has a fucking name. Prick.” You mumbled the last word under your breath. “Sorry, Henry. I’ll actually have a Long Island Ice Tea, please. Thank you.”

Henry was off, probably to get away from Harry and make your drink.

“Sure your tolerance can handle a Long Island?” Harry laughed beside you.

“Don’t act like you know me, Harry.” You sneered his name.

“Oh, but I do know you. Don’t I? Know you very, very, well.”

You huffed, trying to not let his words effect you.

You knew exactly what he was talking about. Specifically, the night he was talking about. It had been one night back when you were working in a rival tech company. You had been issued to attend a conference weekend, there had been limited numbers of rooms and Harry - the gentleman at the time - had offered you a space in his room.

That night you had too many vodka cranberries and ended up sleeping with Harry that night - although not much literal sleeping actually happened.

The point of hatred for Harry occurred when he left in the morning after you’d confessed that you could see yourself liking him. You’d offered yourself to him for a date together and all he said was; ‘I don’t do seconds.’

Hence, the birth of the hatred for GQs sexiest man alive x4.

“That was one night, years ago. Wasn’t anything to remember.” You sneered.

You lied. It was actually one of the best nights of your life and no one has been as good since.

“Except it was. You didn’t scream that much because you were hating it.” Harry sipped on his glass of whiskey.

“You’re a fucking pig.” You grabbed your drink that Henry had given to you now. “Stay away from me, Harry.”

“Then why did you come to my party?”

“I’m here because of Leia, not you.”

You scoffed and walked off, leaving Harry leaning against the bar in his gorgeous suit to stare at you as you walked away.

The little black dress and heels would do wonders for the power walk away from him. He could see what he has been missing.

You saw Leia and James standing at a table and went over to join them.

“Hey.” You said on approach.

“Hey babes.” Leia smiled as James wrapped his arm around Leia’s waist.

“Cosmo?” You asked, pointing to Leia’s drink.

“You know it. And what the fuck did you get?”

“Long Island.”

“Do you even like them?” Leia laughed.

“No.”

“Then why—”

To prove a point. “Dunno.” You shrugged, taking a sip and feeling sick already from how disgusting the drink was.

“Oh hey man.” James unwrapped his arm around Leia to shake hands with someone. Unfortunately for you, it happened to be the one man you were trying to stay away from.

“Hey. How are you?” Harry asked as they bro hugged.

“Good, good yeah. This is my girlfriend, Leia.” James introduced her.

Leia smiled politely, shaking his hand, and you suddenly wished you’d told her that the story behind the ‘One-Night-Stand’ guy had been this guy. “Hello. Great party.”

“Thanks.”

“And this is Y/N, Leia’s best friend.” James introduced you, not realising that you didn’t need an introduction.

Harry stuck his hand out for you. If you didn’t shake it someone would know something is wrong, so you could your hand in Harry’s and tried to ignore the soft skin against yours. Instead, you tightly squeezed as if you were trying to strangle his hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

You just tightly smiled, not feeling like returning the sentiment.

“Have we met before? You look very… familiar.” Harry had the cheek to say to you. He was an evil man.

“No. You don’t really have a face that I’d remember.” You pulled your hand away from him in disgust.

“Oh really? I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

“It’s not.” You smiled, returning to your drink and trying not to gag with how awful it tasted.

“Uh, so, what are you drinking Harry?” Leia asked, clearly sensing some tension between you.

“Vodka cranberry.”

“Ah no way! That’s our Y/Ns favourite drink.” Leia smiled genuinely.

“How coincidental.” Harry faked a shocked face.

“Yeah. Truly.” You rolled your eyes.

“You two must be soulmates or something.”

“That would require two people going on an actual date.” You stabbed into the conversation.

“I guess..” Leia looked awkward now.

“Your capable of going on a date, aren’t you Harry?” You innocently questioned, turning to face him.

Harry’s nostrils flared and it looked like he was biting back from saying something brass. Instead of speaking, he shot back a good half of his drink.

“Lovely speaking to you, Leia. James, we’ll catch up in a bit.” Harry nodded his head to them both. You didn’t miss how he didn’t acknowledge you as he left the table in a hurry.

You breathed a sigh of relief after he’d gone.

“What the fuck was that about?” Leia asked you immediately.

“What?” You asked dumbly.

“You and Harry. The sexual tension was insane!”

James nodded his head in agreement.

“Don’t be silly.”

“Y/N… C’mon. I’ve seen a penis and a vagina have less sexual tension than you and Harry. Get a fucking room next time.” Leia fanned herself.

“I give up.” You shook your head and downed the rest of your disgusting drink.

“Where are you going?” James asked.

“To find a fourth wheel for me.”

•••••

Twelves minutes later and you’d managed to find someone to spend the rest of your night with.

His name was Jordan and he was very good company. Attractive company too.

You two were cornered away in the back of the room in a circular booth. A tray of shots lay empty in front of you and another tray contained full ones.

You were playing a drinking game to get to know each other and now you were absolutely spinning. Your head had taken a hit after the fifth shot and now you were nine deep and couldn’t stop yourself.

“M-my turn.” You laughed as you hiccuped.

“Okay.”

Jordan sat close to you, his arm wrapped around the back of the booth where you were sat. His eyes were deep brown and his hair was light blonde. He looked the complete opposite of Harry, which maybe was subconsciously a choice.

“Favourite sex position?” You giggled immaturely.

“Hmm. Doggy. I actually hate seeing a girls face when we’re fucking.” He replied and you had to take a shot because he answered honestly.

That should’ve been your first red flag about Jordan.

You just laughed instead.

“My turn. Have you ever masturbated?”

“Alllll the time. No guy does it for me anymore.” You laughed sadly.

Jordan took his shot and then moved in closer towards you. You tilted your head so he could speak into your ear.

“I could fix that problem for you.”

Your eyes bugged at his forwardness.

“No thanks.” You shook your head and laughed to try and keep it civil.

“Oh c’mon. You’ve been flirting with me all night and you know it.” His hand dropped onto your shoulders and pulled himself closer. His other hand dropped onto your bare thigh and started rubbing up and down on your soft skin.

“No I haven’t!” You laughed the situation off.

“You have. And I bet you’re all excited ‘cause of it.”

He started moving his hand further up your leg. Due to your toxic alcohol intake your reaction times were a little slower, but when his hand had made it underneath your dress-skirt you gasped and tried to tug his hand away.

“No. Please stop.” You said softly, whining as he tried to push his hand higher.

His face came closer again and he started to kiss your cheek. You tried to move your face away but his other hand was there to trap you and keep you close.

You started to worry because of how dark it was and how hidden away you were. Everyone was busy dancing and drinking away and none the wiser about the situation you were in.

“Give in, you tease.” His hot breath felt disgusting against your skin.

“I said no. Please.”

You struggled to push him off. Both your hands were focusing on his hand on your leg that you couldn’t do much to get his face away from yours.

“You’ve been teasing me all night and now we get to play.” He laughed.

Tears formed in your eyes as you kept pushing and pushing and pushing. You kept saying no over and over again, but Jordan was just not listening.

He felt disgusting on you and it made you feel just as disgusting.

Jordan just kept laughing whilst you were crying.

An employee caught your eye - in fact, it was Henry. You thought he might’ve come over to you and help, since he could clearly see you crying and struggling with Jordan on you, but instead he turned and walked away.

You sobbed then, thinking that might’ve been your only chance to get help and he just left.

You wondered whether it was because Harry was a dick to him.

You closed your eyes and tried to think of happy thoughts as Jordan started attacking your neck.

You tried to think of Harry. It wasn’t hard.

He was constantly on your mind.

“You taste so good. Stop denying me all of you.” Jordan bit your neck too harshly to be pleasurable.

“Jordan, no!” You shoved with all your strength and managed to completely get him off. You were pissed now. Your mascara may have run, your eyes red and blotchy, your breath shaky, but that was all he was getting from you.

“No?” Jordan scoffed. “NO?”

Jordan grabbed your cheeks and pulled you towards him.

“Ow.” You mumbled through his harsh grip.

“Listen here you little bi—”

“The fuck is going on here?”

Jordan dropped your face and straightened his jacket, whilst you turned your head to find who you already knew was there; Harry.

His voice had sent a wave of calmness through your body the second he started speaking. Now he was standing there with a deathly look on his face you couldn’t help but feel relief.

And you noticed Henry standing behind him, looking just as angry.

“Hi boss. Just having fun.” Jordan responded.

Harry looked between Jordan and you. Jordan looked dazed and content, whilst you looked broken and scared.

“Are you okay?” Harry looked intensely at you.

“She’s fi—”

“I wasn’t fucking speaking to you, was I?” Harry rhetorically asked. “Y/N, come here, love.”

Harry held out his hand, palm facing up.

You made no hesitation as you weakly moved away from Jordan and towards Harry.

Harry helped you stand up and kept a tight hold on your hand. It grounded you, his touch.

“Can I touch you? Just on your face?” Harry asked you softly and you nodded.

Harry cautiously held your chin and moved your head to the side, noticing the red mark and blood on your neck. He hadn’t taken note of your legs yet, but he would come to find red marks on them too.

Your teary eyes were wiped by Harry’s careful thumb. You looked down at his shoes the entire time, too afraid to look at him. You knew you’d crumble if you did.

“Are you okay?” He asked you again.

“No.” You said softly, shaking your head. “I-I was really scared, Harry.” Your voice broke and Harry immediately cupped the back of your head and brought you into his chest. You collapsed there and Harry’s hands held you up strong.

“You’re okay now. I’m here, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Harry said, whilst nodding his head discreetly to the two security men.

They came over within seconds and yanked Jordan out of the booth. His protests were no match for the security guys. As he was being escorted out, Harry stopped him to say “See you in court.”

After Harry had thanked Henry with a nod and smile, he walked the small distance over to the same booth and sat down on the edge of it, pulling you to sit on his lap.

Your body was still wracking with sobs, but only because the adrenaline of the situation had been too much for you.

Now you knew you were safe, it was too much.

Harry made you feel safe.

He rocked you as he held you. It was too loud to have a quiet, serious, conversation, but his actions spoke loud anyways. I’m here. You’re safe. It’s okay now.

You heard Harry shout to someone for a glass of cold water, which was brought back to you within a minute.

"Here, sunshine, drink this." Harry spoke closely to you so you could hear.

He held the glass up to your lips and tipped it back slowly for you. Your hands were too shaky to hold onto it yourself, but you managed to drink carefully with the help of Harry.

He even knew when you'd had enough.

Harry's hand cupped the side of your head and brought you to rest back onto his chest. His head stayed rested on top of yours and you both just sat like that for ten minutes or so. It was hard to know exactly how long.

You just sat and thought about everything that had happened tonight and everything that could have happened. Mixed with that, your brain was constantly thinking about Harry and how much, no matter how hard you try otherwise, you like him.

Your heart feels constantly pulled towards him. He's like a beacon in the middle of a storm, safely guiding you towards home.

Just as those thoughts were circling your mind, Harry made his move.

He told you he was going to stand up, so you let yourself slide off his legs onto your own shaky ones. You thought he might be leaving you to go back and mingle with the other guests, so you stood shy to the side.

Harry leaned over to Henry and whispered something in his ear to which Henry nodded.

Before you could make plans as to what you were going to do now, Harry held out his hand to you again - giving you a choice to take it or not. Of course, you took it.

He squeezed your hand in reassurance and then lead you off and out of the room.

You two made no conversation as you wandered out of the noisy room and into a quiet staircase. Harry started walking up the stairs, so you followed him.

It was another two minutes before you made it to the top of the stairs and through a door that led to a rooftop. It was only very small. It overlooked the city skyline, with hundreds of twinkling lights casting shadows over the small space.

There were twinkling fairy lights too, up here. They were knotted around various creeping wall plants like ivy. In the corner of the square space there was a big L-shaped sofa with plenty of cushions and throws.

Harry turned back to smile at you, leading you to the sofa.

He sat down and let go of your hand, allowing you to choose where to sit.

You took one last glance at the skyline and up to the moon, before deciding.

"Wanna sit next to you." You said in a small voice.

"Okay." Harry smiled perfectly.

He shuffled back into the corner of the L-shaped sofa, sitting up and letting his legs stretch out on the chair in front of him. He patted his lap next with a smile. You shuffled over to him and sat on his lap, perpendicular to the way he was sitting so your legs stretched out along the other length of the chair.

"Comfortable?" He asked.

"Mhm."

Harry wasn't too sure though, and next thing you knew he was gathering a couple of blankets to throw over your legs and shoulders.

"Better. Thank you." You nodded.

"You're welcome."

"It's beautiful up here."

"I guess it is."

"Is it all yours?" You questioned.

"What? Everything up here?"

You nodded. Harry then took your hands in his and started to play with the few rings you had on.

"No. Not everything is mine."

You looked up at him and into his eyes, noticing he was looking straight back at you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you thought about the implications to his words. You couldn't help but let a blush and smile take over your face. If he was implying what you thought he was then maybe you were in with a chance of Harry liking you back.

"What do you want to have? You're a billionaire. You could have anything you want." You asked, curiously.

"No even a billionaire can buy everything." He smiled sadly.

"Well, what do you wish you could buy even though you can't?"

Harry chuckled under his breath, "Redemption. A second chance. Love."

You tilted your head back against the sofa, your head feeling less and less drunk by the minute. You sighed, looking at the beautiful moon and wondering how lonely she must be up there.

Loneliness is something you've suffered with for far too long.

You wanted to find that connection with that someone who makes you feel wanted, feel loved and feel chosen. You craved it.

You chuckled.

"What?" Harry asked, softly caressing over the back of your hand.

"It's just funny, is all."

"What is?"

"Us, wanting the same thing. Wonder if we want it from the same people." You tilted your head to the side to face Harry, watching him lick his lips as he looked at yours not-so-subtly.

"You already know we do." Harry said quietly, leaning in towards you.

Your breath hitched as he got closer, your heart beating faster than your brain was processing the motions. You knew you wanted to kiss Harry as badly as he wanted to kiss you, but not like this. Not yet, at least.

"Harry, wait..." You said, watching him stop immediately.

"Fuck. Shitting, fuck. Sorry, Y/N. That was completely inappropriate of me. I mean.. After... Tonight and us... and...."

Harry shot back to his original position and ran a stressed hand over his face as he tried to work through his thoughts.

You smiled as you watched him panic, before taking his stressed hands in yours and kissing the back of it softly - right over that small triage of freckles you knew sat pretty there.

"Hey. It's okay." You reassured him. "I'm not stopping you because of what happened this evening. I'm stopping you because I feel I deserve to know why I wasn't enough the first time around."

This was you standing up for yourself.

"Weren't enou-.. Y/N, love. God, I was such a dick. I never, ever, left you because I thought you weren't enough. I left because I didn't think I was. I was a nobody back then. I looked at you and saw someone who could literally be the epitome of sunshine, and then I looked at me and all I saw was a dark cloud that would cover you. I never thought someone as bright, as happy and as golden as you should ever have to be with someone like me. Hell, it's still a thought that niggles away at the back of my mind. But, I've learnt that I can't let those thoughts win. I owe it you myself, and definitely to you, to at least try."

"Well that was as good as apologies get." You sniffled, trying to hold back the happy tears.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, for our wasted years. I... I just wasn't ready for us back then and I know I was a prick about it."

"You were. A right big prick."

Harry wiggled his eyebrows and you had to fake punch him for it.

"I'm sorry." He said honestly. "And I'm sorry for tonight too."

"That wasn't your fault, okay? I promise." You squeezed his hand.

"Okay. I'm still suing that motherfucker though."

"You're a billionaire already!"

"So? I was going to donate the money to a sexual assault charity or something." He shrugged his shoulders like what he just said was no big deal - like he hadn't just shown his truest heart.

"You're a good person, Harry, who deserves good things." You moved closer to him.

"I am?"

"Mhm."

"Do these 'good things' include you?"

"I don't know. Do you think I'm a good thing?" You teased him.

Harry leaned in closer. "No. I think you're the best."

[ninii-winchester]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 1)

Pairing : Boss!Dean Winchester X Assistant!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff, not proofread, and tbh I don’t even know where this is going.

A/n: new series (hopefully) First time writing an AU. Don’t let this flop please🙏🏻

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Dean Winchester is the CEO of Winchester Co. for the past four years. He’s the oldest son of John Winchester, the founder and owner of Winchester Co., a real estate business. His office corner suite on the top of the floor in the building with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city skyline. The décor is modern yet understated, featuring a large mahogany desk, plush leather chairs, and abstract art on the walls. Behind the desk is a sleek bookshelf lined with awards, framed contracts. A smart wall panel controls lighting, climate, and the room’s privacy settings.

On the top floor other than the CEO’s office is his personal assistant’s work space. It’s a sleek, efficient area with a streamlined desk equipped with multiple monitors for scheduling, managing calls, and overseeing the flow of appointments. The space is minimalist, with soft lighting and ergonomic seating, offering both a professional and welcoming atmosphere for visitors waiting to meet the CEO

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.” Y/n said entering his office. Dean looked up from his computer and glanced at the woman standing in the doorway with a styrofoam cup in her hands. “Got you your coffee.” She said holding it up. The man nodded and she entered the room completely, moving to hand him his daily dose of caffeine, which has been the routine for the past four years.

Y/n reached his side and he took the cup from her hands gracefully and placed it onto the table before pulling her down onto his lap. Y/n gasped at the sudden pull and he grinned up at her.

“Good morning baby.” Dean leaned up to place a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re late.” He commented resting his hands on her hips.

“Sorry boss, my boyfriend is a bit clingy in the morning.” She replied with a mocking smile. “Acts like a baby doesn’t let me leave when I spend the night.” She added with a pout. Dean barked out a loud laugh and it was moments like these that he was thankful for having the whole floor to himself.

“Acts like a baby, you say?” Dean feigned curiosity. “Well tell him you’re my mine and I need you here on time.” Dean mock reprimanded her. Y/n rolled her eyes at his teasing.

Dean Winchester is a private man. He doesn’t like expressing his emotions or talk about his personal life. He’s a workaholic and is married to his work. He had been working at this company ever since he was in college. While perusing his degree in business he did part take in business matters, worked as an assistant for his father. He’d worked hard for this title and four years ago he was appointed at the CEO of the company when his father stepped down.

When Dean was appointed CEO, he clearly needed an assistant too. He confided in his best friend, Castiel. Although Cas also had a degree in business administration he was not interested in taking over his father’s business and was rather interested in charity work and philanthropy. Castiel had suggested Dean to appoint Y/n as his PA, since he knew her from college and she had remarkable skills as well.

Although Dean did appoint her on Cas’ insistence he was a bit skeptical of her skills she needed a ‘recommendation’ to get a job. For the whole year, Dean made her work relentlessly, putting her skills to the test and demanding a high level of performance to prove her worth. And she did. With her hard work and extremely remarkable skills she impressed Dean, more than professionally.

In a typical cliche manner, the grumpy boss fell for his assistant. Though persuading her was a challenge for Dean. She was hell bent on keeping things professional and not wanting to cross the boundaries at her workplace. She was a hard nut to crack but eventually Dean worked his charm on her, showing her beyond his grumpy boss personality and wooing her with extreme gestures.

Now the two had been dating for almost three years and the only person who knew about them is none other than Castiel, the one who introduced them. Even Sam was not in on the secret.

“Can I go back to work, now?” Y/n asked getting up from his lap but he kept his hold firm on her hips, not letting her leave.

“No.” Y/n pouted in response, she hated when he did this, holding her hostage while at work . She really wanted to keep her personal and professional life apart, not wanting anyone to find out or even think for a second she’s sleeping with her boss.

“Dean.” She scolded when he kissed her pouty lips.

“Relax sweetheart, nobody’s coming up here anytime soon.” He shrugged and she sighed loudly, indicating her defeated even if she was reluctant. “Besides, I’ve got news for you.” Y/n raised her brow in curiosity urging him to continue. “We,” he traced her arm with his finger. “are going on a vacation.” Dean beamed at her.

“A vacation? We?” Y/n furrowed her brows. “Who’s we?” She questioned, clearly not understanding the situation. Is this a office vacation or the top officers vacation or just the two of them.

“You and me. A week in Bahamas.” Dean replied casually.

“A week? You want us to take a leave at the same time? It’d rise suspicion.” She whispered alarmingly.

“Baby, if I’m on leave then you’re on leave automatically. Besides, I’ve asked Cas to manage for a few days for me.” Dean replied. “We both have been working our ass off for the past four years, I think we deserve a vacation.” Dean grinned at her and for the first today, she agreed without interjecting. She’s just as much of a workaholic as Dean. She had taken a day off here and there but never a complete vacation. “Besides I’m dying to spend some time quality time with my girl without her grilling me about work.” Dean sassed and she smacked his arm lightly making him laugh.

“I’m not gonna slack off at work just because I’m dating you.” She said matter of factly. “And I do think we could use a vacation.” She finally agreed making his smile broaden. “God, if anyone could you see right now, Mr. Grumpy Winchester.” She giggled when he rolled his eyes. He loved it when she teased him about being a grumpy ass to everyone else except her but he would never accept it in a million years.

The door swung open and sauntered in Castiel in the flesh. Y/n quickly jumped off of Dean’s lap but relaxed when she saw it was Cas.

“Ever heard of knocking, Cas?” She taunted her friend, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Ah lovebirds. Ever the cautious.” Cas sassed back and Dean snorted earning himself a glare from her. “Don’t stop on my account, just wanted to deliver these, personally.” He said holding up two flight tickets to Bahamas.

“Thanks man.” Dean said getting up from his chair and getting the tickets from his friend. Castiel shot Y/n a teasing grin and she rolled her eyes at him, clearly unbothered by his teasing. He thrives in teasing her because she was the goody two shoes in college and the two had become friends after being paired up for an assignment, so seeing a different version of her around Dean, leaves him anything but amused.

“You are a bad influence on the both of us.” Y/n said feigning an angry glare at Cas.

“Oh dear Y/n, I know.” Cas winked and Dean laughed at his best friends shamelessness. The trio’s camaraderie was a reminder of how personal and professional lives often intersect in unexpected ways.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

[pretzel-box]

PROLOGUE: WELCOME TO URBANSHADE

Word count: 3,3k

Tags: GN!reader, Graphic mention of surgery and experiments on a human body

Summary: You get hired by Urbanshade, thanks to your father, but every start has its obstacles. And some obstacles might feel deeper than they should be.

The time on the wall clock showed it was just a few minutes past noon. Warm sunlight gently crept into the waiting room through the tall panoramic windows of the building. A quick glance to the side, catching a glimpse of the clock, was enough to tell you that it would still be a few moments before it was time to move from the comfort of the leather chair you were currently sitting on. Your freshly disinfected hands clung nervously to your phone as you swiftly scrolled through the list of contacts you had saved over time. You were so focused that it startled you slightly when another caller ID popped up on the bright screen, displaying the picture of your father's face.

This particular man had called you a lot lately, sticking his nose into your business after you dared to ask him for a tiny favor, hoping he would help since you are his beloved only child. But one thing you didn't expect from him at that specific moment was that he would take the opportunity to call you, considering that he was somewhere on the ocean.

He works as a high-class businessman, primarily sponsoring a company called Urbanshade. You didn't know much about them, but your dad mentioned something about how they specialize in underwater mining with some high-tech inventions. This explained his temporary stay on one of Urbanshade's ships, where they were testing and showcasing another new underwater mining robot of some sort, called Trenchbleeder. Your dad had funded the whole project over the past few months, so he was more than excited to see how his money was being put to good use.

"Did they call you yet?" Despite the slight static, the seagulls, and the waves in the background, you could make out the strict tone in his voice. Of course, he was curious. You had asked your dad if he knew someone who would hire you, his child. And naturally, the first thing he applied you for was a position at one of Urbanshade's research facilities. They weren't really looking for new employees in the first place, but your dad was very close to the higher-ups, so he bought the job for you. The fact that he paid the company to hire you made your stomach twist in discomfort, but it was too late to turn back and say no. "I risked a lot by doing that for you."

He referred to the payment he had made on your behalf, and you could feel the pressure he had placed on your shoulders.

You nodded, even though your dad couldn't see it over the phone. "I'm at their building, sitting in the waiting room. We're signing the contract today." You tried to sound confident, but you knew your dad could see right through your facade. "They should be calling me into the office soon."

Your name was called loudly through the room before your dad could reply, and he would probably have given you another warning not to mess it up for his reputation's sake. "Sorry, Dad, it's time."

You ended the call with a swift push of the red button, putting your phone on mute so nothing would distract you during the meeting with one of the higher-ups at Urbanshade. The lady at the reception told you where to go, and another employee guided you to a glass room, where a middle-aged man in an expensive-looking suit was seated. His arms were crossed, and the way he scanned your application papers made your stomach turn.

The man must have noticed your little stare from the other side of the glass wall because he looked up from the file, and it wasn't hard to miss the coy smile on his lips. The previous expression on his face was quickly replaced with a more welcoming one. "Ah, we finally meet. Your father has already told me a good deal about you."

"I am grateful for the opportunity to work for your company, Mr. Wiltshire." First impressions count, especially at a company like Urbanshade. So you took the opportunity to present yourself in the best possible light, even if it meant pretending to be something you're not—in this case, motivated and interested. Your hand almost raised itself to offer a polite and respectful handshake.

"I assure you, we are the ones who are honored to welcome you to our team. Welcome to Urbanshade."

A few months passed after Urbanshade recruited you, and it didn't take long for you to get the hang of all the small details involved in your job at the luxurious office—details like how the overpriced coffee machine worked, how to sort the endless stacks of paper files, and even how to avoid getting on your new boss's bad side. At this point, you'd even admit it feels like being a well-paid version of an intern since your higher-ups only trusted you with minor tasks so far.

Despite the simplicity and comfort of the tasks, you volunteered more than once for harder assignments, showing your most motivated side in the hope of getting a little more action in your otherwise boring life. But every single time, Mr. Wiltshire blocked you off with a polite smile and a shake of his head. "You're not ready yet."

It was frustrating; you felt there was more behind it than just a lack of skills, but you couldn't force your way into the deeper levels of the job without risking ruining it all for yourself.

A high-pitched female voice suddenly pulled you out of your regular daydreams, making you aware that you were indeed not alone at the moment. "Ah, look who's here!" Your black-haired co-worker beamed at you with the fakest smile you had ever seen, making you raise your eyebrow slightly. The action didn't go unnoticed by her, and you could feel her sharp acrylic nails digging uncomfortably into your left shoulder. "Be a sweetheart," she started again, leaning in from behind and speaking directly into your ear, "and take care of my files too, alright?" She no longer tried to hide her snarky tone and instead showed you her true nasty attitude. "We don't want Mr. Wiltshire to see how much you slack off at work, right, hon?" The pain slowly disappeared as she lifted her hand from your shoulder, wiping it off on her expensive business blazer. A glance over your shoulder to meet her gaze was enough.

Her smug smile hit a nerve deep inside you, but you swallowed your newfound anger like the smarter person and just nodded without a word. In the end, it wasn't worth the drama, and maybe you could use the opportunity to score some extra credit points with your boss if he saw you doing some well-executed extra work.

The fake woman left the moment you tried to open your mouth to give her a straightforward answer, leaving you behind like some worthless object in the middle of the office. By this point, it wasn't really offensive to you since you strongly disliked that woman for her weird attitude toward you, and every second without her was surely a good second. After watching her leave and get into the elevator at the end of the hall, you turned around too and slowly made your way to the coffee machine in the plain break room, pouring yourself a nice cup of dark liquid into your favorite mug. You would surely need it if you had to put in some extra hours to get the work done. With newfound motivation, you left the room and headed to your co-worker's personal office.

It was a neat space inside a glass room, furnished with minimalist-style furniture and a nice office chair made of quality leather. Some of the woman's personal items were scattered across the mahogany table, and your lips curled up as you felt the smooth surface of the table, thinking you could earn one of those fancy offices yourself if you worked hard enough.

Then you saw the stack of brown files on the table. It was in an unacceptable, messy state, with paper corners sticking out from all sides and some mysterious stains on the front covers. Yet, the weirdly pleasant smell of cigarettes and old paper hit your nose, filling you with a strange, comforting feeling all over again. Your eyes also didn't fail to notice the bright yellow note on the stack, with a hastily written message in black ink:

"Please sort by Thursday night. Return Z-13 file to higher-up when done."

Reading it gave you a sudden boost of excitement, seeing that there must be an interesting file usually in the hands of higher-ranked people. You didn't question it but rather saw it as an opportunity to dive deeper into the business that Urbanshade conducts, sensing a way to escape the boring intern tasks and join them on the front lines, maybe even leading a mining operation in the exciting underwater world.

Your hands took the small note from the files, discarding it without a care into the bin, assuming your co-worker was aware of it since she knew about the work the files required. It was another simple job of sorting papers and making sure everything was in its place before returning them to the basement archives below the building.

The warm, rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee replaced the smell in the small office as you took a careful sip from your favorite mug. The dark liquid was the only thing keeping you grounded amidst the tension of the day. Your fingers traced the rim of the warm cup absentmindedly as you scanned the chaotic stack of files on the mahogany desk.

Determined to make a good impression by sorting through the files with precision, you placed your mug at the edge of the desk, within easy reach. You started to carefully separate the documents, making piles according to their categories, when your mind began to wander.

You reached for another file, but just as you were about to grab it, your elbow knocked against your mug. Time seemed to slow as you watched in horror as the mug tipped over, spilling hot coffee across the desk. The dark liquid cascaded like a wave, soaking the neatly sorted papers in seconds.

"No, no, no!" you gasped, frantically grabbing at the files, trying to salvage what you could. But it was too late—the coffee had already seeped into most of the pages, leaving large brown stains that spread and blurred the ink in matter of seconds. The once crisp documents were now soggy and wrinkled, some of the text smearing into an illegible mess.

Your heart pounded as you stared at the ruined files. A wave of panic surged through you. These weren’t just any papers; they were official documents, meant to be returned to the higher-ups. And that one file—about something called Z-13—it was supposed to go directly to someone important. You remembered the note and its simple instructions, now crumpled in the waste bin, and felt a sinking dread.

Grabbing a handful of napkins from the small break room drawer, you desperately tried to blot the coffee from the papers, but the evidence of your mistake would be painfully clear, no matter how hard you tried to save the files. The edges of some files were curling up, the ink bleeding out, and some of the pages were beyond saving. The more you wiped, the worse it seemed to get.

You slumped into the leather chair, your hands trembling as you stared at the coffee-stained disaster in front of you. What would Mr. Wiltshire say? Worse, what would your father think if he found out? The pressure to prove yourself, to show that you were capable of handling the job, suddenly felt crushing.

With a deep breath, you tried to calm your racing thoughts. There had to be a way to fix this. Maybe you could reprint the damaged documents, or perhaps there were backups somewhere in the archives. You needed a plan, and fast. But first, you had to get rid of the evidence of your mistake—before anyone saw the mess you had made.

Forcing yourself to think clearly, you carefully gathered the soaked files, praying that you could come up with a solution before anyone found out about the spill. And then you saw it, the important file with big red letters on the cover, slightly drenched in warm coffee. The damage seemed to be at a visible minimum, making you slightly relax despite all the panic in your body.

Your finger traced over the paper cover before picking the file up from the messy table. It was slightly heavy, and as you felt the weight of the file in your hands, a ripple of curiosity surged through you. You hesitated for a moment, wondering what kind of secrets might be concealed within these pages. But the urge to know won out, and you carefully opened the front cover, revealing a neatly typed summary that seemed to offer a glimpse into the contents of the file.

The first thing that caught your eye was a series of police reports, meticulously detailed and organized, each one stamped with the official seal of Urbanshade. They were followed by a set of photographs, their glossy surfaces reflecting the dim light of the room. The first image you saw was a clear mugshot of a young man. His face was striking, not in the sense of beauty, but in the way it conveyed a deep weariness, as if the weight of the world had been pressing down on him for far too long. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and they censored his eyes, leaving them to your imagination.

His expression was a frown in each of the photos, a look of quiet defiance mixed with something else—something that sent a strange sensation through your chest. It wasn’t pity, exactly, but a deep unease that you couldn’t quite place. There was a coldness in his expression, yet also a flicker of something more, something human and raw, buried beneath the layers of exhaustion and anger.

You turned the page, your fingers brushing over the edges of the police reports that followed. The papers were old, some of them yellowing with age, but the text was still clear. Your eyes skimmed the lines, taking in the grim details of a murder case that had been closed years ago. The words felt heavy, each sentence a stark reminder of the horror that had unfolded.

The reports detailed a series of brutal killings—nine victims in total. The descriptions were uncensored, each one more gruesome than the last. As you read, a chill ran down your spine. The level of violence, the cold, methodical nature of the crimes, it all painted a picture of someone deeply disturbed, someone with a darkness that ran far deeper than you could have imagined.

And there, at the center of it all, was the young man from the photos. His name was typed in bold letters at the top of the report: Sebastian Solace. The name seemed almost ironic—“Solace” suggesting peace or comfort, while the man it belonged to was associated with such unspeakable acts.

You stared at the name for a long moment, trying to reconcile the tired, defiant face in the photos with the monstrous deeds described in the reports. The file mentioned psychological evaluations, interviews, and even some speculation about his motives, but none of it seemed to add up. There was a note in the margin, scrawled in a hurried hand, suggesting that the case was far from closed, despite what the official records stated.

A photo paperclipped to the back of the file caught your attention—a grainy image of a dark, empty room. The caption underneath simply read, „Day of Execution“ The picture showed the electric chair that they used in Solace his execution, but any sign of his presence was missing in it.

Then you turned the pages and the police reports changed into a large series of lab reports, endless lists of medication and a collection of pictures that left you in a nauseous state.

You read and read for what felt like hours, your eyes moving mechanically over the pages as the horrors of Sebastian Solace's life unfolded before you. Each detail seemed more grotesque than the last, painting a picture of a man who had been systematically stripped of his humanity. It wasn’t just the surgeries—those brutal, invasive operations where limbs were removed and reattached like parts of a machine. It was the utter disregard for the person he once was, the complete and total annihilation of his identity, his very soul.

The deeper you delved into the file, the more your hands began to tremble. You could feel your stomach churning as you flipped through page after page of graphic images and cold, clinical reports. The pictures were the worst—high-resolution photographs of Sebastian’s disfigured body, his skin pale and sickly under the harsh fluorescent lights of a laboratory. There were stitches crisscrossing his limbs, metal tools embedded in his flesh like cruel mockeries of life-saving instruments. His eyes—those once defiant, tired eyes—were vacant now, lifeless, as though the man he had once been was already dead.

Your breath hitched as you turned to a page detailing an experiment labeled "Procedure 17-C." The accompanying photograph showed a close-up of Sebastian's chest, where wires and tubes had been inserted into his heart, his blood replaced with a thick, unnatural fluid. The caption beneath it coldly described the experiment’s purpose—to test the viability of synthetic blood in deep-sea environments. The thought of what he had endured, of how much pain and suffering had been inflicted upon him in the name of science, made your vision blur with tears.

You forced yourself to continue reading, even as nausea clawed at your throat. The reports became increasingly more deranged, describing how Sebastian’s body had been treated like a puzzle, dismantled and reassembled in ways that defied all logic and ethics. The word "specimen" appeared frequently, a stark reminder that to his captors, Sebastian was nothing more than a test subject, an object to be used and discarded.

It was around page 35 that you couldn’t take it anymore. You shoved the file aside and staggered to the bin next to you, emptying the contents of your stomach. The bile burned your throat, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, trying to steady your breathing, but the images lingered in your mind, imprinted there like a brand.

Sebastian Solace—the name now felt like a curse, a grim reminder of the horrors that could befall anyone who crossed paths with Urbanshade. And the Hadal Blackside... it was no longer just a place. It was a living nightmare, a twisted abyss where humanity was stripped away,

The weight of the file in your hands felt unbearable as you reluctantly picked it up again, your fingers trembling as you closed the cover. The secrets contained within were like a lead weight on your soul, pressing down on you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. When you finally set the file back on the table, it was as though you were laying down a burden too great for any one person to bear.

But even as you tried to distance yourself from what you had just read, the haunted eyes of Sebastian Solace refused to leave you. They stayed with you, those hollow, lifeless eyes, staring back at you from the depths of your memory. They were a reminder that in the Hadal Blackside, there were things far more terrifying than the dark waters and the lurking creatures within. There might were men—once human, now monsters—who had been twisted by the same forces that now ensnared you.

You were tangled in their web now, caught in a nightmare from which there was no waking. And as you sat there, in the dim light of that office room, you realized that the true horror wasn’t what had been done to Sebastian. It was the knowledge that, in time, the same fate could await you, if someone found out what you saw.

[reveryfics]

Hii again !

There is characters i knew for years that when i'll truly discover them (in movies or series) i'll be obsessed. Loki is part of this, but Bucky too ! And i recently watch the Captain America movies (I'm a Marvel fan since my childhood but i hate Steve, so i just watch for Bucky 🥸). And now, I'm wondering how Bucky would react to the first time seeing a ftm person. Right after he remembers a bit of his past life

Thanks for reading me ;) i hope you're feeling well 🎀

The Understanding

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x FtM reader

Summary: Bucky could never wrap his head around how different everything was especially when it came to you.

A/n: Ahh I love the idea of him getting used to everything after what happened with Hyrda, plus the opportunity to do something cute with this idea! Incredibly validating to only watch for Bucky. Also thank you for the concern, I am doing better <3

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors through the panoramic windows of Avengers Tower. Bucky, perched on a windowsill, ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the strands clinging to his damp forehead. The night sky, usually a source of solace, offered no comfort tonight. It was a mirror reflecting the turmoil within him. Months had passed since the incident, yet the weight of his past and the confusion of the present pressed down on him like an inescapable gravity.

Sleep had become a fleeting visitor, replaced by a relentless cycle of intrusive thoughts. Images from his past – the war, the HYDRA experiments, the agonizing memories of loss – would flicker through his mind, followed by the unsettling questions of the present. Who was he now? How was he supposed to navigate this complex world when his own understanding of himself felt so fragile?

Then there was him. The young man who worked alongside Bruce, a whirlwind of vibrant energy and quiet confidence. Bucky would catch glimpses of him in the lab, his movements fluid and graceful, a stark contrast to the stiff, almost robotic movements that had become ingrained in him during his time with HYDRA. He'd overheard a conversation between Bruce and the young man, a conversation laced with vulnerability and a quiet desperation. Bruce, his voice laced with concern, was urging him to be cautious, to prioritize his safety while wearing a binder. He mentioned "trans tape," a term that was completely foreign to Bucky.

Growing up in a world where conformity was enforced with an iron fist, where anything outside the rigid norms of masculinity was met with scorn and violence, Bucky had learned to suppress his curiosity. He had built walls around himself, walls reinforced by fear and a deeply ingrained sense of what was "right." His initial encounters with the young man had been marked by awkward silences and unintentional microaggressions, fueled by his own ignorance and the lingering shadows of his past.

The guilt gnawed at him now, a constant, aching reminder of his own shortcomings. He had hurt someone he barely knew, simply because he lacked the understanding, the empathy, to see beyond his own limited worldview. He imagined the young man, his spirit dimmed by the weight of prejudice, forced to navigate a world that constantly questioned his identity.

A faint glow from the living room pulled him from his reverie. Tony, no doubt, burning the midnight oil. But as Bucky approached, he saw not Tony, but the young man, curled up on the couch, a melancholic movie playing on the screen. He was staring intently at the screen, a desolate expression etched on his face.

"Hey," Bucky called out, his voice hesitant. "Seat taken?"

The young man looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, followed by a weary smile. "No, all yours, big guy."

An awkward silence followed, punctuated only by the sounds of the movie. Bucky shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to bridge the chasm between them. Finally, the young man spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "You could at least ask if you don't understand."

Bucky's breath hitched. "I-"

The young man turned to him, his cheeks flushed. "I understand that this..." he gestured vaguely around them, "isn't what you grew up with, Bucky. But you could at least try to understand, or... or ask if you don't." His voice cracked, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Bucky was paralyzed by indecision. Did he retreat, allow his fear and prejudice to dictate his actions? Or did he finally acknowledge the stirring within him, the burgeoning desire to understand, to connect?

"Explain it to me," he finally managed, his voice rough with emotion.

The young man seemed genuinely surprised. He had expected the usual dismissive comments, the same tired platitudes that had echoed through his life. "It's not like I chose to be this way," he began, his voice trembling. "I wouldn't choose to make my life a living hell, to be called slurs, to be abandoned by the people I love, just because I want to be happy." He paused, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Everything has an explanation, but people don't want to listen when one is provided."

Bucky leaned forward, his eyes locked with the young man's. "I'm listening."

And so, the young man began to speak, his voice gaining strength with each passing word. He spoke of the agonizing dissonance between his internal identity and the expectations placed upon him by society. He spoke of the shame, the self-doubt, the constant battle to reconcile his true self with the world's narrow definition of what it meant to be a man. He spoke of the relief of finally finding acceptance, the joy of being seen and loved for who he truly was.

Bucky listened intently, the weight of the young man's words washing over him. He began to understand, not just intellectually, but on an emotional level. He understood the pain of being forced to conform, the suffocating weight of societal expectations, the profound loneliness of living a life that felt fundamentally inauthentic.

"I'm so sorry," Bucky whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn't know."

The young man looked at him, his eyes searching. "I didn't expect you to," he admitted, his voice softening. "It just... it hurt, hearing someone I... I thought I could trust say those things."

Bucky reached out, his hand hovering over the young man's shoulder. "I wish I knew sooner."

The young man turned to him, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and hope. Bucky gently placed his hand on the young man's shoulder, offering a silent apology, a silent promise to do better. And as he sat there, enveloped in the quiet comfort of shared vulnerability, Bucky realized that this was just the beginning. The beginning of understanding, of healing, of a connection, maybe even something more that transcended the superficial and delved into the depths of their shared humanity.

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Don't Stop (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @imironstark

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Smut. You and Morpheus are in the exploratory stages of your relationship. Morpheus asks to worship you, and all is going well. At least, that is, until you start to wake up...

Warnings: Minors DNI. Smut. Porn with plot. Kissing. Oral sex (AFAB receiving). Slight dominant Morpheus.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: So I watched Sweetbitter. With my partner. Maybe not the best idea because suppressing the squeaks of excitement whenever Tom came on screen was tough and not always 100% effective! The hyper fixation is still going strong... Hope you enjoy this one. All my love, Saskia xxx

Sandman Masterlist

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

It is only when the violent spinning not only stops but holds for several minutes after, does Morpheus make steps in allowing his guard to drop.

He straightens elegantly out of his crouching position, withdrawing his hands from the scree smattered earth. He looks to his left, to Lucienne, who is warily regarding the ground and sky, wondering if they might start to rapidly switch places again.

She meets Morpheus' gaze and adjusts her round-framed spectacles with a steady hand.

"I might be speaking too soon, sir, but I truly think it is over now."

Morpheus takes one last steely appraisal of the horizon, almost daring it to misbehave.

He nods once. "I believe you are correct, Lucienne."

"Will you be requiring anything else from me, my lord?"

"Not at present."

"Very well," Lucienne replies with a warm smile. "I will return to the palace now."

She does a little incline of the head in deference and goes to start the winding walk back towards the glowing lights of the Dreaming's seat of power.

Morpheus calls to his friend.

"I thank you for your persistence in supporting me to resolve these issues. I suggest you take some extra hours to rest."

"I suggest you do the same, sir."

Though her reply is innocuous, the knowing gleam in Lucienne's brown eyes hints at an alternative interpretation, one that Morpheus cannot help but notice.

It was becoming generally well known that he was in the early stages of courtship with a dreamer, you, and there was no doubt that Lucienne was aware of how far the relationship with you had recently gone.

He raises an eyebrow in response, earning a grin from Lucienne and then he watches her walk away.

Once alone, Morpheus allows his eyes to flutter closed as he sifts through the myriad of dormant minds and tunes into the space occupied by yours. He takes a reading of your emotions, thankful to find that you are contented and have not been rendered feeling neglected by his absence.

There's a faint undercurrent lingering below the surface level of your emotions that he is also able to lock on to given the familiarity that you share.

Desire.

They are present, filling you with neediness and longing.

A longing to be touched, to be touched by him.

Morpheus is with you in seconds, appearing in the doorway of the room you have chosen to conceal yourself in.

You are curled up in a large armchair by a panoramic window that frames the mountainous vista beyond. The torches that mark equidistant points along the bridge leading to the palace project a soft gleaming warmth over your skin. You are gazing softly at the landscape, the fingertips of one hand combing through your hair, the others trailing up and down your inner thigh.

Such an innocent yet provocative display. It makes Morpheus' voice drop to an even deeper and more sultry register than usual as he calls to you.

You are out of the chair instantly, meeting him at the threshold of the room. Your heart pumps out an allegro drum beat, the sound of the blood rushing in your ears like a waterfall.

You are pulled into a searing kiss, arms encircle your waist to ensure you are flush against his hips and chest. It is a relief that he is holding you in such a way for your knees are threatening to give out within seconds.

The power he has, in his body, his actions, through his words, in a metaphysical sense; you are helpless against them all.

When Morpheus pulls away from the kiss, you follow him on instinct, aching for more. He smiles faintly at your eagerness but maintains the gap in order to explain his length of absence.

"I must apologise, Y/N. The issue was a little more complex than Lucienne and I had anticipated."

He's looking down with a tint of shame in his aquamarine eyes.

You slide your hands up his forearms, gripping tightly and angling your head so you can capture his gaze.

"There is nothing to be sorry for. Your work and the safety of your dreamers take priority."

He simply nods. Your unwavering understanding is always on the side of overwhelming for him.

You register this in his stance.

"You feel a little tense. I can help with that if you want. Like I did last night?"

You move a hand up to stroke the hair on the back of his head. It is a form of touch that never fails to release tension.

Morpheus indulges in your attentions for a bit, leaning into you and sighing deeply, before staring at you directly with sudden seriousness.

"I cannot deny that what you did for me yesterday was beyond exquisite," He leans in to speak by your ear. "But it is my turn to worship you."

"Oh," you swallow down your surprise. "Okay."

Morpheus wastes no time in guiding you back towards the armchair and sits you on the very edge of the seat pad.

He carefully removes his long sweeping coat and then drops to his knees before you.

His rosy lips are parted, eyes dark pools, both standing out against his beautifully pale skin.

"Where can I touch you?" He asks urgently.

"Everywhere," you reply as the flutterings in your stomach warble your voice.

He begins by trailing his hands up your legs. The patterns he draws are intricate and intoxicating.

"May I have the honour of tasting you?"

"Yes," you consent, breathless already.

You remove your trousers and underwear in the same movement and allow Morpheus to adjust your position.

The image of him looking up at you with lust and intent as he parts your legs is immediately imprinted deep within your memories.

He trails innocent kisses up your left calf to your knee. A long-fingered hand is hooked under it and once Morpheus slips your leg over his shoulder, he continues his path along your inner thigh.

Wisps of his midnight hair tickle your skin and make you squirm in the most delicious way. You whimper when you feel his cool breath hit your pulsing core.

Morpheus speaks your name reverently, a taster of what was about to come.

He leans in the last few inches and kisses your vulva. You melt with an ecstasy-filled exhale. His tongue gently licks at your labia, encouraging them to part and expose your clit. He laps at you with precise strokes before sealing his mouth over the nub.

It's like a direct current has been shot into your body; you jolt into him, moaning his name with abandon.

He hums against you, lips curling into a naughty smirk. You are completely at his mercy and he knows it all too well.

He manipulates your clit between his plush lips and the pleasure reaches a higher ground.

"Whatever you do, please don't stop," you beg.

Morpheus obeys, slowly increasing and decreasing the pressure of his suckling until you are almost unable to think clearly anymore.

Then, suddenly, you are distracted by a strange feeling radiating through your body. You recognise it with immediacy. It's like you are being dragged upwards by a marionette string. You are waking up.

You stiffen, falling silent, hoping above all hope that if you stay still, you can stave off the pull back to consciousness.

Morpheus, noticing your change in demeanour, stops his attentions and pulls away.

He speaks your name in a caring tone, "Are you alright?"

You grab the arm rests in a further attempt to keep yourself in the Dreaming. The sensation isn't letting up.

You respond with haste, "I think I'm waking up. I don't think I can stop it."

Waking had been the cause of cutting short your time with Morpheus many times before. It was to be expected; you were a human being with things like sunlight and birdsong and routines to contend with. The worst had been mid-way through a conversation, one that you were able to pick up again the next time you passed the Dreaming threshold.

Right here while Morpheus was working on you so perfectly, however left you with one thought: Why did it have to be now?

Your surroundings flicker and all sound becomes warped. The support of Morpheus' body and the chair vanish.

"I'm sorry." They are the last words you speak before you disappear.

You come to in the semi-darkness of your bedroom. Your chest is heaving and wetness has spilled onto your pyjamas from the dream of Morpheus lavishing your aroused core.

Your phone is blasting out a morning alarm, its shrillness the clear root of you disappearing on him.

It turns out though, initially unknown to you, that Morpheus was having none of this separation business. That is until you notice him sitting between your splayed legs.

"Morpheus?! What are you -"

"You asked me not to stop, my dearest dreamer," he interrupts, pouring every ounce of seductive energy into the words as he can muster.

Morpheus' eyes bore into yours as he climbs up to fully straddle your body. He reaches over you to turn off the alarm with a precise tap on the screen of your phone. He takes a deep breath.

"Much better," he purrs. The pitch of his voice is pleasure enough on its own, even without the fact that his hips are subtly grinding against yours.

"Now, would you like to resume with what we were doing before we were so rudely interrupted by that repugnant tone?"

You nod.

"Verbal consent, please."

It's suddenly so hard to speak now he is in your bedroom, your domain. You hope that a clear display will be an acceptable alternative. You reach your hands down to rid yourself of your pyjamas only to have each wrist pinned either side of your head.

You gasp.

"I need to hear you say it out loud, Y/N."

Another wave of hot, stifling arousal is released between your legs. You shiver in reaction to it, to his dominance.

Your mouth is open but no coherent words leave it, just the starts of failed sentences. Morpheus comes to your aid:

"Will you allow me to taste you here, in the waking world, just as I did in my own realm?"

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, Morpheus. Please. Put your mouth on me."

He hums his approval before lowering your shorts and beginning to feast on you once more.

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

Tag List: @herfantasyworldd @shadowqueen1318

[simmervlogs]

Elmwood Heights

Hello Simmers, welcome to the Elmwood Heights. A 4 bedroom family residence in Del Sol Valley.

This property is the pinnacle of luxury living, offering breathtaking city, canyon, and mountain vistas. Nestled at the end of a long private drive, this home ensures maximum privacy and prime security with cameras and a gated entrance. Upon arrival, you're greeted by a lavish motor court leading to timeless modern architecture. Outdoor amenities include a wrap around pool, lush gardens, natural ponds, an outdoor living and kitchen area with a fire pit. This compound exudes never before seen opulence. Inside this substantial two-story gem, you'll find 4 bedrooms, 2 and a half bathrooms, office, bar, spacious pantry and state of the art garage. Featured within this modern masterpiece, includes, a gourmet kitchen, and an interior courtyard. The decadent pool feature coupled with the fire pit, compliment the majestic panoramic views and achieve the luxurious atmosphere. This hilltop property is a breathtaking private oasis offering the ultimate luxury lifestyle of elegance and solitude to raise your family in.

Please note almost everything is CC and the items were not created by me! Laundry day (Washing machine, dryer, hamper) Spa Day (yoga mats) required for function.

Please do support and directly download from all the creators mentioned! I have attached the CC folders too for convenience.

Do check out my Tiktok, live almost everyday building!

INSTRUCTIONS

Please directly move all the files in CC zip folder to your Mods folder.

Please move  Tray files (Tray files folder) to your Tray folder (enable bb.moveobjects on).

Gallery ID-  SimmerVlogs (Enable CC)

TikTok- simmervlogs

Note-  I have placed this down in Del Sol Valley 64x64 lot (2.2mill)

Thank you once again to all CC creators!

DOWNLOAD (Patreon)

[blue-jisungs]

another idea i had and was gonna write i swear i have so many i abandoned but i will give them to u now LMAO but ricky!!! specifically this ricky with the mask!!!

ofc masquerade ball and im just thinking abt his deep sophisticated voice like whispering in ur ear skdjksdk oh my god

perfume scented letters

# author's note ... zanzan i fear u ate with that req ?! hes soooo royalty coded i couldnt wait to finish it up hehe i hope u like it<3

# warnings ... yn is really coquette pink girly lmfao i just felt like it ?! xiaoting cameo bc yk, haha,,, ricky n her are under wakeone..... both r chinese............ wow... wow genius ?!

# word count ... 1465

a dreamy sigh left your lips as you stared off into the distance. the panoramic view from your window displayed the beautiful royal gardens, basking in the summer sun. your favorite place was the marble fountain, with a woman statue adorning its top. on days such as these you normally sit there and read books; however, today you need to get ready for the ball.

the sweet smell of fresh flowers and strawberry cookies filled your room with the entrance of your maid, xiaoting. 

“is everything alright, my lady?” she asked softly, resting down the plate on the countertop of your golden framed vanity. you quickly moved some letters that were resting there, quickly putting them onto one of the drawers.

“naturally. de facto, i feel rather fabulous. how could i not?” you sent the girl a playful smile and reached for the cup of rose tea that she had prepared. 

you allowed your mind to drift away as xiaoting called other maids and the started preparing your dress for tonight. 

this night marked the 30th anniversary of your parents’ wedding and they decided to organize a masquerade ball since they met at one. you were excited, the thrill of mystery buzzed through your veins. 

you did hope, however, that one particular man was going to be here too. your correspondent… well, fiancé. your heart longed for him more than words could express. quanrui was a prince from another country, who visited your lands three years ago. even though it wasn’t his offer to marry you – rather, it was both of your parents’ incentives – you just established an immediate rapport. alas, you only had a week to share precious moments and make memories that you’d treasure forever before quanrui’s journey back home. ever since you haven’t seen him… nevertheless, he started writing letters to you. and you were writing back. 

quanrui’s letters were always of the highest quality. the texture of the cotton paper he used was always feeling luxurious under your fingertips and took his black and gold ink well. additionally, his handwriting itself was a piece of art. his cursive looked majestic, as if taken out straight out of history books. sometimes he used gold ink to emphasize certain words or, which was a more frequent occurrence, to sign the letter. however, a trait of his letters that you cherished the most was probably the way they smelled. quanrui started spraying them with his fragrance (and you started doing that as well, decorating the end of an letter with a kiss. quanrui would often trace the shape of your lipstick with his fingers but would never admit that) so you could feel a small ounce of his presence. soon enough the drawer where you kept the letters would start to smell like him too. 

there was a sealed deal between your families that once quanrui’s prince duties allow him to take a rest and travel back to your land, the marriage could take place. however, as for what your beloved explained to you, there was no upcoming moment of peace. 

you understood that. but there was a spilling feeling of bitterness that wouldn’t stop filling your lovesick heart. 

you bowed gently to your parents and handed them a gift wrapped in the finest silk in the shade of a blooming rose. your mother accepted it and placed a tender kiss on your cheek. 

“thank you, dear. nevertheless, you’re the best gift life could give us. now go have fun, dove” she smiled politely and your father nodded. 

“will do, mother” you replied and turned around to enter the ballroom. 

you fixed your mask – white with hand painted small pink roses. it was framed with gold on the edges and had a small, also pink, feather. you asked the mask maker to add a golden string so it wouldn’t require your hands holding it all the time. 

it matched with your dress. obviously it had tons of layers, a corset, and puffy sleeves but it wasn’t too restraining. it’s color was similar to the peonies in the royal garden – adorned with bows and details in white and lighter shades of pink. it all composed beautifully, especially with a golden necklace resting between your collarbones. quanrui sent you the piece of jewelry once, attached to a letter. you’ve worn it ever since. it was shaped like a heart and had his initials engraved. even though you never told him that, this gift pretty much reflected your real heart. you kept him in it all the time. 

you touched it, fingers brushing against the cold metal in a reassuring motion. with a small sigh escaping your lips, you entered the room. 

the ballroom was huge and beautifully decorated, the glow of chandeliers lit up the place. gold and marble ornaments were placed around the room in a cohesive manner. various foods displayed on porcelain plates were more tempting than devil by a window, smells and colors catching attention. the music was stunning, enchanting one’s legs to keep dancing. 

however, it all seemed bland and mediocre without quanrui by your side. you would trade this room and all the goods in a heartbeat if that meant seeing your lover.

you were asked to dance by someone, probably one of the governors. you tried to keep a conversation with him but couldn’t help your mind from wandering. the governor was skilled in dancing and respectful - he held your hand gently. 

the night was passing painfully slowly, like melting ice. song after song, dance after face, chat after chat. you were absent minded, allowing people to lead you in the swirl of dances. 

“may i have this one?” 

you just nodded, in your head already planning what to tell quanrui in your letter. you were going to write it as soon as you came back to your chamber. 

the young man who asked you grabbed your hand and bent his knee to place a kiss atop of it. the gesture was sweet (alas, it would be sweeter if quanrui executed it). 

then, he stood up. he was quite tall, his blonde hair were pushed back stylishly. a strand or two fell on his forehead. the mask he was wearing was lacy. an unusual choice; nonetheless, it was pretty. black and thin, you wondered if a gust of wind would be able to blow it away. you could see the outline of his eyes but not them fully. 

he was also dressed in a well fitted, black suit with golden details, such as earrings. 

the man leaned closer, lips next to your ear. 

to be frank, you smelled it first. 

the peculiar scent. 

the scent that quanrui’s letters carry. the fragrance that emerges from the drawer you keep his letters in. the aroma that you can’t get out of your mind. 

his lips ghost over your ear. if you weren’t somehow sure before, you are now. 

“you look breathtaking, darling” 

your arms wrap around his neck and instantly pull him into a hug, too shy to kiss him. quanrui’s hands gently hold your waist closer and you breathe in his perfume, melt in his hold. 

“is this a dream? please don’t wake me up” you mumbled, face pressed in his neck. a low chuckle vibrated through his throat as he caressed your waist. 

“i’m standing right here, tangible” quanrui said and smiled. his heart was pounding against this ribcage at an unprecedented rate “shall we dance?” 

you nodded enthusiastically and leaned away, suddenly everything surrounding you gaining more color. his tender hands remained on your waist and you put yours on his shoulders. despite not seeing his eyes, you did feel his gaze on you. 

his pretty lips were shaped in a whipped smile as he rocked you two to the rhythm. 

“why… why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, not able to look away from him. 

“i realized the letter wouldn’t arrive in time so i decided to surprise you. my heart couldn’t wait longer, i just had to see you” quanrui whispered and “y/n, your letters kept me sane everyday”

“yours as well, i… i stored them” you admitted shyly, biting down on your bottom lip gently “you… you do realize what your arrival means?”

he grinned, nodding his head. 

“i am fully aware” quanrui hummed and leaned closer, leaning his forehead against yours. a proud smile was dancing on his lips “we can get married”

up close you could see the outline of his eyes, even his long lashes. 

“can i ask you for one favor?” you asked, hands sliding to the back of his neck.

“everything you wish for” quanrui mumbled.

“kiss me, please” a whisper, barely audible, left your lips. alas, he heard you. 

and with a tender, honey-alike kiss he sealed his promise.

masterlist <3

taglist. @slytherinshua ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @haecien ,, @stryroses

[isatohlee]

I was scrolling through my art folders on procreate, and I found this huge panoramic piece of a bunch of fnafsb Sun & Moon artists with mini versions of their Suns & Moons that I really looked up to.

Unfortunately it never really got past the sketching phase and even then I hadn’t gotten everyone drawn who I wanted to.

But looking back at it gives me this big smile and reminds me of all the good memories of the fandom I think I might as well share it.

Also mind you this is like a year old so it may not be entirely accurate to the designs.

Why I like to torture myself with these elaborate panoramic pieces with like 10+ individuals on a piece is beyond me.

Under the cut is the @ for everyone in this

I’m sorry for the mass @ing

It’ll go from left to right

@maiko-coy

@hashbrowniss

@fluffffpillow

@luckydragon333

@twitchydoodle

@ragingtwilight

@pinkiepig

@chlorenw

@jack-o-phantom

@eating-you-alive-cutely @soopenedraws

@twinanimatronics & @dana-chan-the-control-brain

@bamsara

@paper-lilypie

@kitty-c4t

@bones-of-a-rabbit

@vurelly

@maudiemoods

@oobbbear

@glitchysquidd

@opudont-donut

@spaciebabie

@chankchua @traichank

@witchysolfan

@newts-and-sharks

@gutz-munch

@solarrush

@might-be-a-potato

If you’re reading this and you’re one of the @ individuals, thank you. You guys are amazing artists that I’ll always look up to and I’ll always look forewards to seeing your art. Keep up the great work and I hope you have a wonderful day/night

Even if you aren’t, thanks for reading and looking at my art! I really appreciate it. I hope you too are having a wonderful day/night and know that you’re doing great.