#luxury reception desk

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[fukcnoplease]

Danny is done. He is tired. He is dead. He deserves a sweet treat and to hibernate under fifteen weighted blankets for nine years.

Instead he is standing in the Gotham City cross country bus station with a dead phone and no sweet treats. He had had the misfortune of having avid ghost hunters as parents, who had demanded he help them with their latest invention instead of joining his friends on a fancy bus hired by Casper High to take them on a multiday, multicollege trip. Apparently they had made an agreement with the school that as long as he met the school trip in one of the cities and still paid for the whole trip, he could still take part and at least catch the school bus home.

Of course, exhausted after helping his parents, catching up on homework, and taking out some ghosts Danny ended up falling asleep on his bus. Now he was standing alone, cold, half-dead, in Gotham City’s main bus center with a dufflebag of clothes and backpack of ghost supplies his parents forced on him.

The school trip was, thankfully, passing through Gotham as one of the universities but they had multiple cities to hit before they got to Gotham. According to the itinerary it would take at least five days for them to hit Gotham and even then theyd be arriving late in the evening.

Danny had to find a place to stay for five nights and something to do for five days. Thankfully, Gotham city is seeped in ectoplasm which means its full of ghosts. Ghost who are more than happy to help a lost boy find a place to stay.

Danny chats with some ghosts, being pointed this way and that before he finds a nice old man dress in a fine suit with an unfortunate gunshot wound to his chest. The man offers to lead Danny to an excellent and cheap place to stay and Danny… is too tired to care honestly. He follows the ghost across the city, hails a taxi, repeats the address the ghost gives him, missing the taxi drivers shocked stare, and falls asleep in the taxi.

He is woken up by gentle taps on the glass by an older looking man and gives a half asleep mumbled thanks to the taxi driver as the old man takes his bags inside. Even in his tired state Danny has the sense to offer to carry his own bags but is politely and sternly refused by a british accent which is enough to wake him up.

Standing in the entrance way of a luxury… hotel? It doesnt seem to have a reception, though, and the decorations feel far to personalized. He glances around to find the helpful ghost staring wistfully at one of the larger portraits. A family of three, a beautiful woman with shoulder length dark curls, a young boy with dark hair and a bright smile, and the face of the kindly ghost.

The butler(?!) calls for Danny to keep up and he rushes to catch up, more out of instinct than sense. The ghost wanders casually after them, pausing to admire artwork every now and again.

The butler drops Danny’s bags in what seems to be a guest room, or maybe this really was just an incredibly fancy hotel, the room had its own ensuite, desk, and empty closet and chest of drawers. Honestly Danny couldnt even hazard a guess anymore.

The butler(manager?) informed him that breakfast was at 8 am sharp every morning and dinner was 6 pm sharp every evening. Danny gave a dazed nod which was apparently all the older man needed before he vanished back into the hallway. Almost as quickly as the ghost did after giving Danny one last cheeky grin.

Queue Danny being weirdly introduced to the Batfam and doing his best to avoid the adoption papers at all costs while also trying NOT to be eldritch and strange around this also eldritch and strange family.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 7

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Words Count: 2,143

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

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Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more

“Well, if he can afford it,” you said, knowing your dad probably didn't realize how much you charged per hour for consulting.

Bucky felt challenged. “I think I can afford it.”

You raised an eyebrow, silently asking, ‘Are you sure?’ Then, you grabbed a pen and started writing numbers on paper.

When you showed it to Bucky and Tom, both of their eyes widened. Tom exclaimed, “That's per hour?”

You nodded, folding your arms.

Bucky glanced at the paper, then back at you. “If it's in New York, this price is understandable. But here… with this price, I could afford two brand-new cars.”

“Take it or leave it,” you said, your expression unyielding. If Bucky truly needed an auditor, he would accept your terms.

“I didn’t say no,” Bucky replied. “Alright. I hope you can start tomorrow. I'm looking forward to working with you, partner.” He extended his hand for a handshake.

You simply said, “Hmm,” and walked past him, leaving his hand hanging in the air.

Bucky maintained his calm demeanor and smiled, that smug smile you always wanted to slap off his face.

It's risky to work with your former tormentor, but after thinking it through, you realize you had just left your previous job and decided to stay with your dad.

But you don’t want your skills to get rusty. Bronze Lodge Hotel seems reasonable enough as a place to work in this small town.

Back then, he drained your mental strength; now you will drain his money.

Bucky tidied up the documents, placing them back into his bag. “I’m so glad I came here. Thank you for your help, Tom,” he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Tom slowly nodded his head, though he wasn't entirely sure about it. You had offered to help, but at such a high price. He had never seen that many zeros in his life. He felt a bit sorry for Bucky, but also proud of you. It was amazing to him that you had the skills and experience to command such fees and be hired by people in the big city.

Bucky slung his bag over his shoulder and headed toward the door. Before leaving, he looked at you and said, “See you tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

You stood there, arms crossed, watching him leave. “I won’t be,” you replied, a determined look in your eyes.

Bucky gave a small nod, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he exited. Tom watched him go, then turned back to you with a mixture of pride and concern.

“You’ve come a long way,” he said softly, touching your shoulder.

🧮🧮🧮🧮🧮

The next morning, you arrived at the resort in your sports car. All eyes were on you from the moment you left home until you pulled up at the hotel.

You found it amusing. Back then, nobody even bothered to notice you. But now, thanks to this car, you were suddenly worth looking at. It saddened you that money, expensive stuff, and status seemed necessary for respect.

As you walked into the hotel, Natasha was shocked to see you. She left her reception desk and rushed toward you.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, looking you up and down. Natasha followed fashion trends closely and recognized the luxury of your outfit, even though it didn’t flaunt brand logos. The cost of what you were wearing was more than her salary. She clenched her fists in frustration.

With your high heels, you towered over her. Even before, you were taller than her, but she always had a superior attitude and was surrounded by her group, while you were always alone.

Now, even though you were still alone, you no longer felt small in her presence. You put on a confident smile. This feeling of superiority, of having a life so much better than hers, was intoxicating.

You scratched the saddened part about living in this world. Money, expensive stuff, status—if these three things were enough to make a person like Natasha jealous of you, you would do anything to obtain them.

“Whoops… I could see the tension from far away,” Bucky suddenly appeared and stood between you and Natasha.

“She’s…” Natasha began, but Bucky cut her off.

“Na-ah. Here at the Bronze Lodge, we always give a warm welcome to new employees. Well, she’s temporary, actually. We have a new auditor,” Bucky announced.

Natasha flinched at his words. She grabbed Bucky’s hand and whispered, “Does your mother know?”

Bucky gently pried her hand away. “I’ve texted her. She hasn’t replied yet.” His mother was traveling with her friends, probably with her new boyfriend.

It was his mother’s mistake to hire a lousy accountant, forcing him to manage things himself. His skills in accounting were pretty limited. With your help, he hoped to uncover the true condition of the resort’s finances, even though paying you would cost him an arm and a leg.

“Let’s get ready. We have 20 minutes left before this place opens,” Bucky clapped his hands and then looked at you, tilting his head. “Follow me.”

You followed him, leaving Natasha glaring daggers at your back. Bucky led you to an empty office room filled with disorganized papers and documents. You cringed at the mess.

Rolling up your sleeves, you prepared to start cleaning and organizing. “Leave,” you commanded Bucky, your expression turning serious.

Bucky looked at you, surprised by your sudden change in demeanor. “Alright. I’ll check in on you later,” he said, leaving the room.

You start working, your eyes scanning over rows of numbers, your mind quickly calculating and cross-referencing data from various documents. The first step is organizing the mess left by the previous auditor. You methodically sort through the stacks of papers, categorizing them by month, type, and relevance. Your fingers fly over the keyboard as you input data into a detailed spreadsheet, ensuring every transaction is accounted for.

As the hours pass, you become more absorbed in the patterns emerging from the chaos. You notice repeated anomalies in the records—suspicious transfers, inflated expenses, and missing receipts. You pause occasionally to make notes, your handwriting precise and clear. The further you dig, the more discrepancies you uncover.

You compare the financial statements to bank records, invoices, and internal reports. It's clear that large sums of money are unaccounted for, and there's a distinct pattern of funds being siphoned off over time. Your brow furrows as you pinpoint the telltale signs of money being funneled into untraceable accounts.

Your focus is unbroken, and you don’t realize you’ve been working for nearly 12 hours straight. Your hand doesn’t stop writing, just like at your previous job. You were used to long hours at the company, and so was Ransom. But here, it’s different, especially for Bucky. He’s worried about you.

Just as you finish drafting a report of your findings, you hear a knock on the door. You don’t notice it initially, but Bucky’s voice breaks your concentration. “It’s time to go home.”

Your pen stops moving. Slowly, you lift your head and fix your gaze on him with a cold stare that cuts through the air.

Bucky, sensing something amiss, asks tentatively, "Bad numbers?"

"Worse. Someone's been stealing from you," you reply sharply.

Meanwhile, Natasha glances around nervously on the emergency stairs to ensure no one is watching. She pulls out her phone and makes a call, her voice low and urgent. “We have an uninvited guest,” she whispers, her tone laced with fear and frustration.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

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Only if you feel like it!

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[viranellee]

i know our mornings (were as good as it ever could be)

synopsis: eddie thinks he's doing a pretty good job at hiding his relationship with the youngest dunne sister. until he isn't.

warnings: smut, dirty talk, usage of alcohol & drugs, billy dunne

a/n: thank you so much for the love on the previous eddie post! this is shit but it's eddie smut and that's all that matters

⁠♡

It all happens so fast you think you’ve imagined it - one minute you’re snorting your (fourth, maybe fifth) line of coke and reaching for another glass of beer, and the next you’re being pulled by your hand until you can breathe in the fresh evening air through your slightly powdery nostrils. You’re still looking down at your feet, hands outstretched and trying to regain your balance, which is a surprisingly hard thing to do using a coked-up brain, when the mystery assailant, probably Billy, starts speaking. You sigh and brace yourself for yet another lecture.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Welp, that’s definitely not Billy. You don’t know if you should be happy about it or not.

You look up and meet Eddie’s eyes, his eyebrows so furrowed that the annoyed wrinkle between them is especially pronounced - you want to reach out and smooth it out with your fingers, you want to tell him that as hot as he looks when he’s pissed off, he shouldn’t be getting wrinkles this early on. You don’t do any of that.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You respond instead, putting a hand on your hip with such force that you make yourself stumble a little bit. In the blink of an eye, Eddie is holding you by the waist, concerned, and you pray to every single entity out there to just make the goddamn sequin dress separating your bodies disappear into thin air, simply to feel his large hands against your skin. “I’m having fun.”

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh and tilts your head upward, cleaning up the cocaine residue around your nose. A part of you finds it weirdly cute.

“Too much fun.” He tells you and you shake your head.

“I’ve seen you do, like, six lines one after another. You can’t just lecture me when you do the exact same thi-”

“That’s because I’m used to it, I can handle it.” Eddie interrupts, grabbing you by the chin gently. He’s looking at you right in the eyes, wanting to drive his point home, but all you can focus on is his lips. “You could barely handle a shot of whiskey before and now you’re drinking and doing lines like you’ve done it all your life.”

You roll your eyes, although you understand what he’s trying to say.

“Eds, just leave me alone. I’m not going to die or somethin’. I’m just having fun.” You defend yourself, but the hiccups in-between your words do absolutely nothing to convince the man in front of you.

In fact, something flashes in his eyes. It’s a look you see rarely, but one you recognize as the look he gets when he sets his mind to something. You don’t get to dwell too much on it, because he’s crouching and picking you up, and before you know it, you’re thrown over his shoulder with such ease it makes something at the bottom of your stomach flutter.

“Eddie, put me down, now! What are you doing!?” You protest and hit his back with your fists as hard as you can, waving your legs in the air. He doesn’t even flinch and instead places a hand on your calf and squeezes, a gesture you can only interpret as “calm the fuck down” - and something in you listens, despite the drugs and liquors in your system screaming at you to keep acting bratty.

You vaguely recognize Warren’s wolf-whistling at the pair of you, but you don’t pay him any attention - by the time he’s asked for your room key at the reception desk in that deep voice that drives you crazy and you’re in the luxurious elevator, you’re already half-asleep but still have enough leftover energy to complain.

"Can you put me down now? You’ve proved your point.”

In response, Eddie’s hand moves higher up your leg, slipping underneath your dress. You can feel yourself blushing as he starts drawing circles on your inner thigh.

“Hm, I really don’t think I have, sweetheart.” He tells you and you want to strangle him for knowing exactly what buttons to push to make you speechless.

The rest of the elevator ride is spent in torturous silence, as he absentmindedly drags his fingers across your skin and you stubbornly hold in your whimpers and gasps, because you’d rather die on the spot than have him know how sensitive his touch makes you.

Only he can make me feel like this, you think to yourself in a striking moment of clarity.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally arrive at your floor. Eddie confidently walks towards your room and opens it - as soon as the door closes, he strides over to the bed and gently drops you onto it. You’re looking at the ceiling, thinking about nothing and everything at the same time, as he removes your heels. When he stands up and kisses your forehead, ready to leave so you could get some sleep, you grab him by the collar.

Sleep is the last thing on your mind right now.

You kiss him hard, and he responds immediately - you feel his heart thumping when your chests press against each other, and you’re pretty sure he can feel yours too. He moans into your mouth when you tug on his hair and you feel like you’re on the brink of getting what you want - except, he pulls away from you. You look at him, confused, and when you reach out to try and bring his face towards you, he grabs your wrists in one hand.

“You’re drunk, sweetheart. We can’t.” He explains and you want to cry. Why did he have to be so thoughtful?

“But I want you.” You try and he just smiles at you, wide and toothy, as he stands up. You catch his hand. “Can you…can you at least sleep next to me? We don’t have to do anything, I just..."

He turns to look at you and you see surprise painted across his features. You open your mouth to take it back, tell him you don’t know what you’re talking about, play it off as the drugs talking, but he’s already dropping his jacket on the ground and getting into bed with you before you get the chance to say anything.

He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you gladly take the invitation.

"You're cold." You tell him when you lay your head on his chest and feel him wrapping his arms around you. He smells like cigarettes and citrus. It’s your favorite smell in the world.

“You’re hot.” He responds, grinning as he kisses the top of your head, and you giggle.

It’s the last thing you remember before you fall asleep.

—

You wake up horny. Not unusual by any means, considering you fell asleep horny and next to Eddie. Still, you know you can't ignore it for long.

As your eyes adjust to the sunlight pouring in through the windows, you feel Eddie, still asleep, wrapping a long arm around your waist and pulling you towards his chest. His gentle hums do nothing except fuel the growing need in you to have him. You decide to do just that.

Careful not to wake him, you slowly move down his body and when you reach the part you're craving the most, you greedily undo his belt like you're opening a Christmas present. You pull his jeans and boxers down at the same time, impatient, and immediately get to work.

You run your tongue from the tip to the base, savoring the shiver you receive in response. You do that a couple of times but as soon as you take him in your mouth, Eddie gasps and you know you've woken him up, because you feel a hand in your hair.

"Shit, baby, good mornin' to you too." He laughs and the rasp in his voice makes you throb.

You take him in deeper, tracing the vein in his shaft with your tongue and Eddie practically howls. Biting his lip, he buries his other hand in your hair too as the sounds of your gagging and his moaning overlap.

"I love this fucking mouth on my cock." He breathes out. "God, I can't get enough of you. Come 'ere."

You shake your head as you press open-mouthed kisses down the shaft.

"No, I want you to cum in my mouth." You declare stubbornly and he swears out loud at your words.

"I'll cum in that pretty little mouth as much as you want me to, but I need to be inside of you right now, baby, please." He almost begs and you look at him beneath your eyelashes.

He's panting heavily, his bottom lip slightly bloody because he bit it too hard, brown eyes glazed over and hair splayed out on the pillow beneath his head like a halo. He looks like a mess and it's the prettiest thing you've ever seen.

Well, how can you say no to that?

You crawl towards him and he grabs the dress you've slept in from yesterday and pushes it up your body, hastily trying to remove it. You help him and soon, the dress is a mere clothing item on the floor. Left in only your underwear, he licks his lips as his eyes look you over. If it was anyone else, you would have felt like a piece of meat being ogled at, but his look only turns you on even more.

You tug on his shirt, wanting it off, and he complies immediately.

As you climb into his lap and undo your bra, Eddie watches, mesmerized, when you start grinding on his cock like a woman starved, your tits bouncing along with every movement. In an attempt to tease him, you reach out to play with your nipples, but he smacks your hands away, shoves his face in your chest and starts worshiping your tits with such vigor you think you can cum from this alone.

"Eddie! Oh!" You mewl and he groans in response, tugging your underwear down your thighs. He rubs a finger against your folds and your head gently knocks against his when his finger glides right inside of you.

"So fuckin' warm and tight and all for me. Only for me." Eddie whispers, kissing your neck. You nod, burying your fingers in his tangled hair.

"Only for you. Always for you." You whisper in his ear and he exhales sharply, relieved, like he's being told something he never once thought would be true.

You don't even notice when one finger has become two, and two has become three in your haze of pleasure until Eddie pushes you down onto the bed, looking at you like you've hung the moon and stars. You smile at him and pull his face down to kiss him, and you can feel him chuckling against your lips. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you melt in his embrace. In response, Eddie grabs your hips, something you've noticed he really likes doing, and carefully enters you. You open your mouth in a silent scream, and he groans loudly, squeezing you so hard you're sure he'll give you yet another pair of bruises. You don't mind though, not at all.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

"Very much am, Roundtree."

---

"What did you just say?"

Warren laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"Look man, I don't fuckin' know, all I'm saying is that I saw them leaving together."

It's quiet in the breakfast hall as Billy ponders on what to do.

"I get that she's our little sister, but she's grown up now. Even if she is, y'know, sleeping with him, why should that matter? I mean, it's Eddie, do you really think he'd do anything to hurt her?" Graham argues, gesturing with the utensils in his hands as he speaks.

Daisy and Karen nod in agreement.

"He's got a point, you know. I really don't think it's that big of a deal. They've had the hots for each other for a while now, too, it's only natural." Karen adds and Billy's mouth turns into a tight line as he death glares the uneaten toast on his plate.

"Good morning everyone!" Eddie greets his band members when you and him enter, suspiciously cheerful. Billy's glare only becomes more hateful.

"Morning." He greets with gritted teeth, carefully observing the way Eddie gallantly pulls out your chair first, before sitting on his own. Everyone else around him also seems to notice, if Daisy and Karen's quiet giggles and Warren and Graham clearing their throats were any indication.

"Aren't you going to get breakfast?" Graham questions and you smile innocently back at him.

"Nope, I've already eaten." You respond and Eddie adds a "I'm very full, actually."

Awkward silence descends on the table for a moment before Roy arrives as well.

"Hey, Roundtree." He starts, an accusatory finger pointed at the bassist's neck. "What kind of vampire were you fooling around with? Jesus Christ, son, look at the size of that thing."

A beat passes as Graham chokes on his water.

"Roundtree, you fucking son of a bitch, I'll kill you."

---

BILLY DUNNE: The prick was fucking my sister behind my back. Of course I decked him.

KAREN SIRKO: And people call women the emotional ones.

WARREN ROJAS: Dude, I thought I was hallucinating, for real.

DAISY JONES: So overdramatic.

GRAHAM DUNNE: [sighs]

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Worth it. [smiles]

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part 13)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Please comment and engage!

“Well, we already did it and it's already complicated," you said, clutching the fabric of your jacket as if it could ground you.

Cillian ran a hand through his hair, a friction of tension spreading across his features as he weighed your words, indecision etched in the lines of his brow.

“Y/N, we just can’t let it happen again.” He took a half step back, body rigid like he was fighting against an invisible tide.

“But what if I want it? What if you want it too?” you asked, your heart racing at the direct challenge. "Do you want me?" you challanged and Cillian’s breath hitched, the question hanging between you like smoke in the air, thick and suffocating.

“What do you think?” His voice was low, almost a growl as he stepped closer, a primal energy crackling around you as the distance between you narrowed.

You took a breath, feeling a mix of bravado and vulnerability swirling in your chest. “I think you want me as much as I want you,” you admitted, locking your gaze onto his, a daring resolve hardening in your chest.

A flicker of something wild ignited in Cillian’s eyes as he stared at you, the tension crackling like static electricity in the air before he looked around, spotting the Hilton a few hundred metres down the street, a façade of safety and anonymity.

Cillian’s gaze darted to towards the luxurious hotel, barely illuminated by the street lamps as the distant hum of city life swirled around you.

You noticed him looking into that direction and felt your heart skip a beat. He turned his gaze back to you, a heated spark igniting in those depths you had come to admire.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, causing your heart racing at the intensity in his voice. The question hung in the air, charged with unspoken desires and the weight of potential consequences.

“More than I’ve ever been,” you replied a steady conviction filling your voice as the anticipation crackled like lightning between you both.

Cillian’s gaze held yours for a lingering moment, absorbing your words as if measuring the weight of your resolve against the depths of his own yearning.

With a deep breath, he nodded, a silent agreement passing between you, and together you turned toward the hotel, the evening air thick with anticipation.

The walk down the street felt surreal, palpable energy coursing between you as you approached the hotel’s entrance. The world around you blurred, the sound of bustling city life fading into the background, leaving just the two of you and that electric tension coursing through the air.

As you stepped into the warm, cozy lobby of the hotel, the soft glow of ambient lighting enveloped you both.

"I will check us in," Cillian said, pulling his wallet from his pocket as he approached the front desk, indicating for you to keep your distance. You knew that, for his career's sake, he couldn't be seen like this and you decided to seek out the lavatory while he handled the check-in process.

The tension in the air hung heavy around you as you walked away, your heart thrumming with both anticipation and a hint of nerves.

When you came back to the lobby, you saw Cillian waiting by the elevators, nervously fidgeting with the edges of a small piece of paper he had taken from the reception desk. His fingers toyed with the keycard as he caught your gaze, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

“Everything okay?” you asked, his voice steady but edged with tension.

“Yes ,” he replied, drawing in a steadying breath as the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding.

You stepped inside, the small space suddenly feeling very intimate, cocooning you both with a weight that pressed against your chests, causing your hearts to thrum in sync as the doors slid shut behind you.

Cillian pressed the button for the eleventh floor, his body angled slightly to you and the air between you thickened with unspoken anticipation.

“You sure about this?” he murmured again, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes darting to the glowing panel as the elevator asc ended with a soft hum. The seconds stretched taut between you, the familiar rhythm of your heart echoing like a drum in your chest.

“Yes," you reiterated, your voice steady, a resonant echo of the certainty that surged within you. His eyes flickered to yours, searching for any hint of hesitation as, finally, you arrived.

The elevator shuddered to a stop with a soft ding, the doors gliding open to reveal a dimly lit hallway lined with plush carpeting and muted artwork. You stepped out first, the anticipation coiling tighter in your chest as you felt Cillian's presence right behind you, his steady breaths a comforting reminder of what lay ahead. The hallway stretched out before you, each step feeling weighty with anticipation. Cillian walked beside you, the silence between you both vibrating with energy, each shared breath interwoven with unspoken thoughts.

He paused at the door to room 1112, digging into his pocket for the keycard, the faint click of the lock echoing in the quiet hallway. He turned to you, a momentary flicker of uncertainty painting his expression as the door swung open. The room was quiet, bathed in soft, warm hues, the muted lighting inviting yet charged with the electric tension that hummed between you both.

Cillian hesitated on the threshold , his hand lingering on the doorframe as he glanced over at you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

The moment stretched out, thick with tension as Cillian seemed to measure the gravity of the space before you. You took a step forward, past him, and into the room, letting the warmth envelop you like a soft blanket, pushing through the initial hesitation. The room felt surreal, the air thick with anticipation.

Cillian entered behind you, closing the door softly, cutting off the outside world. The soft click of the door latch echoed in the hushed space, leaving an almost palpable silence hanging in the room.

You turned to face him and, as his gaze met yours, the tension ratcheted up, electric impulses flickering like firecrackers in the charged atmosphere around you.

"God, I want you so fucking badly," he muttered, his voice husky, greedy with desire.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt a shiver zigzag down your spine, heat pooling low in your core. The admission gave you a vulnerability that ignited a fire within you, a fierceness born of passion and forbidden desire.

"Then have me," you whispered, a challenge hanging in the air and, by that point, Cillian did not have to be told twice.

 Reaching for your face, his thumb traced the outline of your lips, temptation igniting a hunger blazing in the depths of his eyes as there was no turning back now.

With a growl that resonated deep in your chest, Cillian closed the gap between you, his lips brushing against yours in a searing blaze that set every nerve on fire. The kiss there deepened instantly, hands roaming freely, trailing over the curves of your body, lips parting in invitation as the fire spread through you both.

He was such a good kisser , but, this time, the fact didn’t surprise you.

His fingertips wandered up your body, gently cupping your neck, a silken ache trailing throughout your veins like wildfire.

The hunger was almost carnal – it seemed like he wanted you as if there was no tomorrow. As if he had been starving, and you were the first drop of water he had seen in days.

Cillian's touch grew insistent, trailing down your arms until he found the bottom of your shirt, slipping underneath the fabric and skating over your skin.

His fingertips brushed against the bare expanse of your stomach, sending ripples of heat storming through you, igniting a passion only fueled further by the illicit nature of the encounter.

Your t-shirt came off next, followed immediately by your bra, both discarded on the floor in a crumpled heap, as Cillian pushed you back against the wall, savoring the sight of you.

" You are so fucking beautiful, do you know that?"he murmured with lust deep in his voice, eyes alight with hunger as he trailed hot, wet kisses down your neck and shoulders.

"You did tell me before," you giggled as his fingers moved to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them and sinking to the floor as you quickly stepped out of them.

He was moving fast and your breath hitched as he hooked his thumbs into your panties and pulled them down, helping you in stepping out of them.

You stood naked before him, your chest rising and falling in time with Cillian's deep, measured breaths.

His gaze dropped to your bare skin, taking in every curve, every angle - and admiration flashed in his eyes as he dropped to his knees before you.

He took one of your thighs with his hand, guiding you as he adjusted your body to his mouth as you leaned back against the wall. One hand trailed up the inside of your thigh, your body trembling with every touch, while your other rested on his shoulder. 

Then, his tongue came into contact with you - and you let out a gasp. 

"Oh my god ," you breathed, your hands knotting themselves in Cillian's hair as you pushed yourself closer to him as his tongue ran through your slit. 

"Cillian, fuck, yes...right there,"  you moaned, savoring every second of the sensation as Cillian's tongue continued to swirl around your clit, his grip on your thigh tightening at your reaction.

The sound of his name, whispered through gritted teeth, seemed to spur him on, and the deliberate strokes of his tongue became more intense.

He slid a finger inside of you - a feeling so deliciously wicked that you couldn't believe you were allowing this to happen, right here in a hotel room with your stepfather, yet it was exactly what made this whole encounter feel even filthier.

"You taste so fucking perfect ," Cillian moaned, nuzzling his nose into your pelvis, causing you to submit to his decadent actions.

He buried his face in you, his tongue tracing every inch of your most sensitive places, bringing your body to a swift climax. Your thighs started to tremble, your respirations becoming shallow, and you couldn't help but let out a guttural moan.

"Oh fuck," your voice broke, becoming incoherent as he kept on working his tongue, sending waves of pleasure rocketing through every inch of your body.

Your instinctive response was to try and pull him closer against you, your hands clenching and unclenching as uncontrollable, involuntary muscle spasms rippled through your body.

"Cillian!" you cried out, your voice hollow despite your best efforts to smother it. "I-I'm going to -" You broke off, unable to form the words as Cillian worked his magic between your legs.

"Cum for me," he growled, pressing his tongue harder and faster on your clit as he thrust the finger deeper inside you.

The sensation was so intense that you couldn’t help but obey him. With a sharp cry, the climax ripped through your body—waves of pure pleasure that drowned out reality as you arched your back, each muscle taut as you held on to him.

Cillian didn’t falter in the slightest, giving you his full attention as you rode the pleasure, his hands solid against your trembling thighs. When you finally came down from the high, your legs gave out and you slid down along the wall to land in a sated heap on the plush carpet.

Cillian stayed where he was, continuing to exaggerate his responses for your benefit. One of his hands trailed possessively up your inner thigh, his fingers grazing the moisture that was still seeping from your pussy.

"That was quick," he chuckled as he swiftly pulled his t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside to join the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You were momentarily distracted by the gorgeous sight of him - his pale freckled skin and slender body. But it was the look in his eyes that drew you back, the sheer hunger and lust that was making your stomach flutter.

"It was quick, but this is because you are so good at that," you gasped as he unbuckled his belt, unhooked his jeans and shoved them down, removing them completely in just one smooth motion.

"I clearly am," he smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement, looking down on the very wet patch you left on the floor, which was something that caused you to blush. "I mean, you positively drenched the floor," he said proudly, and you felt embarrassed, but there was also another emotion brewing inside of you—adrenaline, fueled by the scandalous nature of this rendezvous. It licked at the edges of desire, pushing the embarrassment aside, freeing you from the constraints of propriety.

"Sorry," you  stammered, and just as the words left your lips, Cillian's mouth found yours once more, forcing you to close your eyes and surrender to the temptation. His hands roamed over your skin again, strong fingers trailing over your breasts, the familiar tactile memory of him provoking a response as powerful now as it had the night before in your stepfather's house.

"Don't apologise," he growled, nipping at your lower lip, the tender gesture sending shockwaves down your sensitive nerves. "I fucking love knowing that I can make you lose control."

"I need you to fuck me, Cillian," you whispered against his lips, urgency driving your words, hips rising off the carpet in silent invitation. "Please!" 

A shudder went through Cillian at the sound of those bold words. For a moment, his eyes met yours, hooded with desire, and he nodded.

"Let's take this to the bed then. I am too old to do it on the floor," he mused as he pulled away, offering you his hand to pull you back to your feet.

You didn't need to be asked twice. Wrapping your fingers around his, you allowed him to help you up. Immediately, you tangled your hand with his, leading him towards the now inviting bed across the room. The anticipation was heavy in the air, and it was only growing thicker with each step you took towards the bed.

By this point, Cillian was only wearing his CK briefs, his hardness straining against the material, drawing your gaze immediately.

When you reached the bed, you reached for his boxer briefs, and Cillian didn't resist as you slipped them down over his slim hips.

The sight of him was breathtaking, his cock hard and ready, dripping with precum, and without much thought behind your actions, you got on your knees between his legs.

Cillian's eyes started to glaze over just by watching you inspect him – but it was when you wrapped your lips around his tip that he truly started losing control.

A strangled moan left his lips as you swirled your tongue around its head, teasing him with the lightest of touches before sliding his entire cock deep into your mouth.

You set the pace, teasing Cillian with your lips, watching with satisfaction as he threw his head back with a guttural sound, hips thrusting slightly to meet each of your downward glides. He swore under his breath as your hands started circling his balls, firm enough so that he would feel the sensation but not enough to bring him pain.

With every stroke, you felt him swell more and taste him more fully against your tongue as precum trickled out. You were still in charge, and it was intoxicating.

Your hands reached around to hold onto his firm, muscular ass, pulling him further into your mouth, making him moan loudly above you.

He tried to remain silent as not to arouse suspicion, but your ministrations made him increasingly unable to stop himself from moaning obscenities and whispering filthy words into the room.

You continued to swallow him down, half of him disappearing between your lips as you latched onto the base with a suction that kept him rooted until he begged for you to stop.

"I need to be inside you before I lose my fucking mind," Cillian grit, pulling away slowly, while his eyes remained fixed on your lips wrapped tightly around his shaft.

You pulled back slightly, releasing him with a slick, wet sound and stared up at him through your eyelashes, savoring the lingering taste of him on your tongue, feeling empowered by the sight he presented.

"Then make love to me," you purred without hesitation and Cillian didn't need to be told twice.

Wrapping his arm around you, he gently pulled you back onto the bed and followed you there, pressing the whole length of his body against yours. With a low growl, he captured your lips once more, his kiss fierce and dominant as he pinned you to the bed with his weight.

You parted your lips eagerly, inviting him deeper as your tongues danced together, each stroke sending shivers of anticipation coursing through your veins.

The taste of him was intoxicating, making you drunk with lust and longing, a primal need rising up inside you like a tidal wave.

Cillian shuddered against you, his hands roamed across your sensitive skin, leaving hot trails of desire in their wake. His fingers skimmed your breasts, teasing your nipples in the barest touch before sliding lower, tracing the curve of your hips before slipping between your legs.

Your breath caught as his fingers found your opening, slick and ready for him.

He slowly circled your clit with his thumb while slowly pushing a finger inside of you before pulling it again and aligning  his cock's head with your entrance.

He rubbed himself against you, his gaze locked on yours, and you bit your lip in anticipation.

A sudden, sharp stab of guilt jabbed at you for betraying your family in such a way, but that brief flicker was quickly snuffed out by the all-consuming passion that radiated between you both.

He thrust inside you, filling you up to the hilt, both of you moaning in euphoria at the sensation.

Your body stretched around him, welcoming the intrusion, and as you wrapped your legs around his waist and arched your back, inviting him in deeper, you could see him lose all control.

Every thrust was deliberate, measured, each stroke like his masterpiece; he took his time, hitting every spot that made you moan louder. The headboard slammed against the wall with every powerful thrust, the sound echoing in your ears like the sweetest symphony.

Cillian reached down between you two, finding your clit, rubbing small circles that matched the rhythm of his thrusts.

The dual sensation sent your body into overdrive, your back arched off the bed as your fingers clawed at his back.

"Ah, fuck, Y/N," he moaned, desperation thick in his voice. "You feel so fucking good." His voice dripped with lust, sending another wave of shameless shivers down your body.

The filthier he talked, the more you could feel your orgasm building—slowly at first, a rolling wave barely discernible beneath the surface, then quickly cresting into a tsunami that threatened to drown you both.

"Cillian!" You screamed his name, the sound bouncing off the walls as his name became a litany, your voice weaving together with your gasps and moans as the pressure built inside. Your voice grew increasingly hoarse, cracking under the strain of your rapidly growing pleasure but as much as you wanted to be quiet, to not draw any undue attention to the room that held your secret, you couldn't help but give yourself over to the sounds of pure rapture that bubbled out of you of their own accord.

He plunged deeper inside of you, bottoming out with each powerful thrust.

Neither of you could believe how incredible it felt to be so connected.

“Oh my god, Cillian. Right there, don’t stop!” You screamed, your words punctuated by sharp intakes of breath.

You raked your nails down his back and he hissed in pleasure, the sensation of your touch only adding to the unbearably intense experience. The slick sound of skin against skin accompanied each thrust as you both 

lost yourself completely, a shared knowing shimmering between you both. Your breaths were ragged, escaping in short pants as you sat up to meet each thrust..

“Harder,” you gasped, in a voice that barely recognized itself, demanding more from the man whose body now claimed all of your wants.

"Okay, then turn around," he  panted, tearing his lips away from your skin from one too many kisses, craving to conquer another side of you.

You complied easily, gracefully flipping yourself over in one swift move, knees sinking into the soft mattress, butt raised in the perfect angle for him to claim you again. Your hands wrapped around the headboard, preparing yourself for what was about to ensue.

A low growl escaped Cillian’s throat as he took in the new view of you, naked and vulnerable, on all fours  .

His fingers gripped onto your hips, tugging you closer, and your breath hitched as you felt his hot, hard length brush against your eager opening.

"Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking wet," he grit out, driving his hips forward and burying himself deep inside your warm, welcoming depths.

You gasped, eyes screwing shut at the surge of pleasure as his cock filled you up in delicious ways. He started off thrusting slowly, every motion deliberate and measured.

You could feel him touching every inch of your insides, and the sensation was so fucking perfect that it almost hurt.

"Holy sh-shit!" You cried out, head spinning as your thoughts dissipated, obliterated by a newfound focus on his body's perfect rhythm.

Each slow thrust brought a fresh wave of pleasure vibrating through your every nerve. It was an intoxicating sensation, and one that you wanted more of - wanted to push yourself to chase that moment, wanted Cillian to do it too.

"Please," you whispered, the word cracking as you begged, your lips trembling. "Please, Cillian. Don't stop."

And he took your plea to heart, increasing his pace - the slow, steady rhythm now replaced with hard, quick thrusts that left you dizzy. Each forceful entry hit exactly where it should, sending blissful shockwaves rippling in their wake. You could feel him everywhere - inside you, around you, until you couldn't take it anymore.

You climaxed first, screaming his name as you contracted around him, pouring yourself over his hand, his fingers massaging your clit. 

The roll of his hips showed you he was close behind, and with one final, violent push, he let loose, his hot seed filling you to the brim.

As he collapsed onto you, panting and spent, your bodies melded together in an increasingly frantic dance, a desperate attempt to keep the world from falling apart.

But eventually there was only silence, and the dim light streaming in from the window casting long shadows on the walls.

Cillian pulled out gently, leaving you feeling empty and wanting more.

"Damn Y/N, that felt amazing," Cillian murmured as he wrapped you in his arms from behind as you leaned back against him, leaving sticky trails of sweat and semen blending between your skin.

Your chest heaved as you tried to regain your breath, your mind reeling from the intensity of your actions.

"God, I needed this," you  breathed, voice thick with emotion and satisfaction, as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer.

Cillian's fingers snuck under your arms, cupping your breasts gently, and he pressed a kiss to your neck, the heat of it almost stinging your feverish skin.

"So did I," he confessed, his voice wavering with unspoken emotions that echoed your own. His lips found the sensitive area of your shoulder and he peppered soft, lingering kisses. "But we really can't stay here tonight," he went on , breaking the spell. 

You didn't respond, keeping your eyes fixed on the window across the room, watching the hazy silhouette of the city sprawled out in front of you.

"I know," you whispered, still staring outside, your thoughts churning.

"Y/N," he began again, hesitantly.

With a sigh, you eventually pulled away from him and got out of bed, feeling exposed and vulnerable after being so intimate with this man, your very own stepfather.

"I know, I know," you repeated, wrapping one of the hotel's plush bathrobes around yourself and tying it tightly around your waist.

Cillian followed suit and grabbed his own robe, watching you silently.

"Look, I-" he started, but you cut him off.

"No, you look," you said firmly, turning to face him. "I am moving to New York in six weeks and that will be it, so let's just enjoy  every moment together."

Your participation in this horizontal tango, this act of adult carnal passion, had been building for months now -- ever since you had first crossed paths with your stepfather again, Cillian, on that fateful night. The chemistry between the two of you was undeniable; you couldn't ignore it any longer and instead found yourself helplessly caught up in the allure of his seductive smile and piercing blue eyes.

"You seriously want to keep this up for six weeks?"  Cillian asked, eyes narrowing with a mixture of skepticism laced with a hint of hope.

"Yes," you affirmed emphatically, trying to maintain a sense of resolve as you stepped towards him, closing the distance between them. "I don't think I'll be able to keep my hands off you while I am there, seeing you almost every day, but once there is some distance between us, maybe it  will be easier to let this go."

Cillian stared at you for a second, conflict dancing in his eyes as he took in your words. "It seems sensible, considering the circumstances," he finally agreed. "But six weeks is a long time, Y/N and I," he began before running over his thoughts. "It's just," he stammered. "It's so fucking wrong, Y/N. I mean, you're my stepdaughter for fuck's sake. I-I don't think I can handle the guilt."

You didn't respond, his words striking a chord deep within you. You knew what he was saying was true, yet you couldn't help but desire him in all the ways you never thought possible.

"Then say no and stay away from me," you challenged, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside of you. 

Cillian stepped forward, eyes darting from your face to your lips, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. 

"You know I can't," he whispered hoarsely, his hand sliding up your arm to brush your cheek with his calloused fingertips.  "Fuck, you have no idea what  you do to me."

His eyes burned with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat, and you couldn't help but lean into him, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. 

"I think I have some idea ," you replied, your words barely above a whisper, laced with a husky purr.

Cillian groaned at your words, his arms tightening around your waist as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you violently. The passion between you was all-consuming, a tempest of fire and desire that threatened to consume you both.

You felt his cock growing hard again against your stomach, pressing against you as he ground his hips into yours, and you whimpered, a low, needy sound that echoed between you.

"One more time before you go, after which I will be making full use of the room, even on my own," you chuckled  with a sly grin, reaching down to grab his growing length.

Cillian let out a choked gasp when you took him in your hand, fingers stroking up and down his shaft with a sensual slowness that left him squirming for more. God, you were going to drive him mad with lust before the night was through.

"Alright, but not before I get another taste of that sweet little pussy of yours," he groaned, gripping your hips and making you drop back on to the bed.

"But you just came inside me ," you protested, cheeks flushed.

"And your point is?" he  answered, moving inbetween your legs, spreading them wider, as he bent down, and pressed an open mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh...

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[mrsparrasblog]

SAUNA SOAP🌞

You hated your job. Working in the SPA of a 5-star hotel was not as luxurious as people made it out to be. The therapist got tipped while you needed to do the infusions, clean around the mess the guests left, deal with touchy customers, and worst of all, tell guests all over again that they can't fuck in the sauna, pool, or whatever. Well, at least you got paid 1pound above the minimum wage.

So you spent another day standing at the front desk of the SPA and trying to look useful. Nothing ordinary happened until a handsome Adonis walked into the spa. Fuck, he came up the elevator wearing only a towel around his hips, not hiding his perfect sculpted abs; he looked like an Adonis; his biceps was probably bigger than your head; and you looked up to see his beautiful face. His face had some badass scars, wrinkles, and the most gorgeous set of eyes you ever saw in your life.

"Good morning, sir. How can I help you today?" you said, trying to hide your enormous blush from him. You were used to naked people in front of you, but this man was different; he made your legs press together behind the corner, like a horney slut.

"Awright bonny, a'm 'ere fur th' sauna cuid ye shaw me th' wey" You hated yourself for not understanding him, but his voice was already the cause of your wet dreams for the next few months.

"I'm not called Bonny" was the only response you could gather to say and point to your nametag.

He chuckled, "Sorry, lass, I'm used to people understanding my accent. Could you show me the way to the sauna, please?"

"Of course, sir, please follow me." You walked out behind your reception, guiding him the way through the almost empty SPA.

"No need to call me, sir; I'm not much older than you," he said, throwing you a cheeky smile.

"We're here" He went into the sauna and thanked you. And you hated yourself for not being able to flirt with this man. This was a one-time chance to meet a man who was able to be on the new season of the bachelor of your county, and you failed.

After a few hours, you prepared an infusion smelling like amber and peppermint, so you went to the sauna. To your disappointment, your new customer crush wasn't there. You started with your usual show, throwing towels around and then leaving the sauna. Leaning against a wall, panting after being in the 90-degree sauna.

And there it was again, a man approaching you without a towel wrapped around his hips as if it weren't common courtesy to hide your own, oh god, erect cock. You tried your hardest to look into his eyes, but that ugly dick of his was like a car accident earthquake and a fire at the same time.

"If it's too hot for you, I wouldn't mind seeing you less clothed; you must be sweating in this tight and long uniform," he said, tucking your hair behind your ears.

You were more than disgusted by this behavior, but it was nothing new for you. "Sir, I feel uncomfortable with this situation."

"Come on, little bird, you girls take these things so seriously. I was just flirting a bit."

"And I want you to stop flirting," you said, sounding confident and not showing an ounce of your fear. You knew there wasn't much staff around anymore.

"Come on, Birdy, I paid so much for my stay; there should be something in it for me." He started to put his hand on your hips, pulling you closer to him. You were so ready to fight him off, but before your knee could make contact with his crotch, the Adonis men was behind you, towering over you.

"She said no, you better leave now or I'll help you leave bastard." You fell behind in his massive frame after the man pulled away from your hip.

"Sorry, mate," he said, walking out of the spa to his hotel room with a hint of embarrassment. Asshole was afraid of Adonis.

You turned around to face him, blushing at how close you were. "Thank you, sir."

"No problem, lass, call me Johnny, not this Sir nonsense," he smirked at you, and you felt like you melted on the ground immediately.

"Okay, thank you, Johnny. You can have a drink on the house; just grab something from the bar." This would be the least you could do.

"When urr ye off, a'm waantin' tae keep edgy fur ye nae that that bastard comes back." You felt the butterflies in your stomach when he said he wanted to protect you.

"Johnny I'm a big girl; you don't need to ruin your vacation by looking out for a stranger."

"Beautiful stranger." You blushed at his compliment and thanked him. You worked for the next three hours and then started to clean everything so you could close. When you locked the door, only you and Johnny were there. You approached him, but he still sat in the sauna. His marvelous body was glistering with sweat, just like his weird but funny hair. You noticed how he sat there with his legs wide open without a towel, so you had a perfect view of his manhood.

"Aye, sorry, I didn't notice ye" he said, hiding his manhood from you.

"Don't worry, I see them every day."

"Och, ye dinnae ken how tae flatter a lad," he said, acting fake hurt, which gifted him a slight chuckle from you. "Ye kin at least admit a'm a het lad."

"You're a hot lad, Johnny. Happy?" Your eyes wandered down his abs.

"Take a picture; it lasts longer."

"Uhm, sorry, I just think you're very handsome. I like your biceps."

"Do you want to touch it, hen?"

You nodded, slightly embarrassed; this is still your workplace after all.

Johnny's breath hitched slightly as you touched him, his muscles tensing. "Feel that, sweetheart? That's pure Scottish strength. It's also quite sensitive... If you know how to handle it properly."

"You work out a lot?" You asked already knowing the answer.

Smirking, Johnny leaned in close, whispering in your ear. His stubbles touched your neck as he did this.

"Aye, lassie. I work out every chance I get. And believe me, it's more than just to maintain my looks." Soap grinned, flexing his bicep slightly for you. "Feel that again, lass. You can't deny the pure muscle you're touching. And don't even get me started on these abs. I've been told they're quite impressive." He was pretty arrogant, but you couldn't deny that he was allowed to be arrogant after looking like this.

"They are. I'm sorry I'm acting unprofessional." You remembered your minimum wage job.

Johnny chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Oh, don't apologize, hen. Unprofessional behavior can be quite endearing. Besides, I'm not one to judge." He leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper.

As your gaze dropped lower to his prominent V line and his thick happy trail, Soap caught the subtle hint of curiosity in your eyes. Leaning back slightly, he ran his free hand teasingly over his toned abs before continuing. "You seem quite interested in this area, don't ya?"

You blushed immediately. "I'm so sorry."

Johnny chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Sorry for what? For being a horny wee lassie? There's nothing wrong with that." He reached down, his fingers tracing the outline of his hardened member through his towel. "See this?"

"Oh, Johnny," it was thicker than anything you had in your life and will have.

With a devilish grin, Soap pressed his thick shaft against your stomach, causing you to gasp. "Want a taste?" he asked softly.

"I work in this Spa and you are a customer Johnny I can't just blow you in the Sauna"

Johnny chuckled again, pulling his cock back from you. "Didn't say you had to blow me?" he replied with a wink. "Though I wouldn't mind that." You couldn't stop laughing at his comment.

Soap smirked at your laughter, taking it as a good sign. "Listen, hen," he started, his voice now low and rough with desire. "I've had my fair share of women throwing themselves at me, but you're not throwing yourself at me. You subtle, I like that, and I never had sex in a sauna, and you're one hell of a looker, the most beautiful girl I've seen in ages."

"I never had sex in a sauna too."

"So" He unwrapped the towel around his waist, making sure you got a good look at his hard cock pointing at you. "How about we fuck in the sauna?"

"That's pretty forward, Johnny."

He chuckled warmly at your comment. "Aye, lass, I'm forward when I want something," he replied confidently, taking a step closer to you. "And I really want this."

As you watched in anticipation, Soap slowly unbuttoned your uniform, revealing more of your delectable body with each button that flew open. His eyes roamed hungrily over your curves, taking in every detail. "Yer sae bonny"

Once your pants were off, Soap gently pushed you onto the bench in the sauna, his eyes locked onto your clothed sex. He took one of his thick fingers and started to circle your clit with it. You couldn't help but moan; he was doing it better than any man before. He didn't treat you like a scratcher; he knew what he did, which made you feel insecure. Of course, men like him would have more experience than you do.

"You look and sound like an angel; can I—my little man can't wait any longer?" You laughed at his words and just nodded.

He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance before slowly pushing inside.

"God, that's fast." You whined as he split you in half with his thick cock.

Johnny grunted in pleasure as he felt you tighten around him. "Fuck, lass," he groaned, starting to thrust slowly inside of you. His hands found their way to your tits, squeezing them roughly as he took his time fucking you.

Johnny picked up the pace, slamming his hips against yours as he fucked you hard in the sauna. The sound of your flesh slapping together filled the small room, echoing off the walls.

His cock throbbed inside of you, reaching deeper with each thrust. Your body glistened with sweat in the hot sauna. Johnny growled low in his throat, his face contorting with pleasure as he continued to pound into you. Sweat dripped from his body onto yours.

"Fuck, you're so tight." You scratched his back, gripping hard on his biceps. You needed to hold back and not cum too fast so you couldn't embarrass yourself in front of him.

Johnny hissed in pleasure at the scratches down his back, leaning into the bite and scratch marks on his neck as he felt you grip his biceps. His hips picked up speed, slamming harder into you as he reached around to pinch and twist your nipples.

Feeling you close to orgasm, Johnny moved a hand between your legs, rubbing your clit firmly as he continued to pound into you. His fingers circled your swollen bud, teasing it until you cried out incoherently. "Johnny"

Johnny groaned, feeling himself getting closer as well. He picked up the pace even more, slamming into you harder as he leaned forward to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting gently.

He growled low in his throat as you wrapped your legs around him, taking him deeper inside of you. He moaned into your skin, his teeth grazing lightly as he nipped at your other nipple. "Fuck," he panted, "I'm going to cum."

"Mhm, you can cum inside; I'm on the pill." It was foolish of you to let a stranger cum inside of you, but you were too fucked out to properly think.

Hearing your enthusiastic agreement, Johnny let out a groan of relief as he felt his climax building. With one last hard thrust, he erupted inside of you, his cock pulsing as he shot his hot cum deep inside your wet cunt.

Johnny panted, his heart racing, as he leaned down to kiss your full lips. "That," he whispered against your lips, "was fucking incredible." He pulled out of you slowly, his still-hard cock slipping out of your pussy with a wet pop.

"I usually don't do things like this with strangers, I swear." This was your first nightstand and even in your workplace. What must he think of you?

"Well, I'm glad you made an exception for me." Johnny grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He reached down to stroke his cock a few times, getting it slick with his own precum before pressing the head against your entrance again. "Ready for round two?" This man must be joking, right?

"Another one?"

"You bet your sweet ass I am," Johnny growled, pushing his thick cock back inside of you in one swift motion. He slid in completely this time, his hips meeting yours as he began to thrust into you again, harder and faster than before.

You needed to regain power so you wouldn't come immediately "Mhm, fuck, let me be on top."

"You got it," Johnny grunted, pulling out of you so that you could mount him. He helped guide your hips as you positioned yourself on top of him, his hands sliding down to grab your ass and pull you closer.

You bounced on his dick with so much passion and enthusiasm as he had never seen in a woman; you were so eager to please him and so eager to sleep with him. You weren't like this usual starfish woman; you were perfect.

Johnny moaned, loving the feeling of your wet pussy slamming against his cock as you rode him with all your might. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he watched you in awe. "Fuck me, woman. "Yeah, I'm definitely feeling that." Johnny groaned out, his body arching off the ground as you continued to ride him. He reached up to grab one of your tits, squeezing it gently before rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"A Boob Guy, huh?"

"Well, I'm a man," Johnny chuckled, running his free hand down your back to your ass before squeezing it. "And I definitely appreciate a nice pair of tits." He nipped at your earlobe before biting gently, making you moan loudly. With every movement of your hips, his veiny cock hit your Gspot perfectly, making you whine and moan in pleasure.

"Johnny, I'm close."

He growled, "Come for me then, lass." He held onto your hips, his cock throbbing inside you as he felt you getting closer. Just as you started to tense up, he thrust up into you hard, feeling your pussy clenching around him, milking him as you came undone.

He continued to thrust into you until he couldn't hold back any longer, his cock erupting inside of you with his hot and sticky cum.

Johnny leaned his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged as he held you close. "One hell of a fuck, wasn't it?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes," you stated monotonously. You screwed up your chance of dating this guy by simply fucking him the first time you saw him.

Johnny chuckled softly before kissing your neck, nibbling gently. "Now then, what's got you all wound up?" He asked curiously, running his hands down your back and ass.

"Was this a one-night thing, or could I get your number? Oh god, it's embarrassing. I never had sex with a random man, and now I'm asking for your number. I'm stupid." You started to ramble while looking into his beautiful eyes.

Johnny smiled at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "A one-night thing? Hardly." He said it teasingly, tracing a finger down your cheek. "I'm not the kind of man who gives up so easily once he has a taste."

"So?"

"So, how about we exchange numbers?" Johnny suggested with a grin. "I mean, unless you're afraid, I might call you at all hours of the night."

"I'll give you my number."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise but quickly took out his phone to enter your number. "Alright then, pretty girl." He said, pressing the buttons on his phone. "You've got mine too. Don't forget it." He gave you some sloppy kisses and helped you put on your clothes again.

Before he left, you screamed to him. "Call me."

"I will," he assured you with a wink, and he left the spa on his way to his hotel room.

A moment later, your phone rang, and you answered. "Hello?"

"I promised to call you, Mo leannan

[weskie]

To Make Your Heart Sing (Albert Wesker x ftm!Reader)

3556 words, fluff, hurt/comfort, s.t.a.r.s. wesker, ftm!reader, top surgery mention, coming out, main character injury, soft wesker, established relationship | Fic Directory

some truths are simply hard to tell. still, they must be told

You tried your best to keep things under wraps.  

RCPD’s human resources department knew of your ‘condition,’ but the file that landed on Captain Wesker’s desk a year and a half ago mentioned nothing of it.  You were just, well, you.  And that’s all you needed to be.  You were hired and the rest was history.

Or it was supposed to be.  Instead, you found yourself getting into the best of trouble.  Make no mistake, Captain Wesker intimidated you to no end.  Suppose that’s why the first time you turned a corner and the both of you knocked into each other left you a stuttering mess while you tried desperately to help him pick up the stack of paper he’d been holding.  The other officers who had been in the adjacent break room had the luxury of watching with bated breath to see him chew you a new one for such a careless mistake.

But he didn’t. 

The next was when you’d overcooked your food in the microwave, leading to a loud, wet pop and spaghetti sauce all over the insides of the machine. To your embarrassment, your captain was beside the coffee pot, brow arched just above the rim of his sunglasses as you sputtered and chuckled your apologies for both the mess and the noise.

You could’ve sworn he smiled.

Then there was that day you’d been running late.  You called the precinct from your clunky Nokia, begging for forgiveness from your captain.  As a peace offering, you offered to bring him coffee from a local shop, stating that it was “so much better than the liquid tar in the break room.”  His silence had scared you half to death, but his acceptance carried the strangest hint of amusement.  Black with two sugars, he’d told you.  When you’d finally arrived and delivered it, he took it directly from you, fingers brushing yours and making your cheeks light up.

That was the first time you’d ever seen more than a miniscule smirk on his face.  

Not to mention that time you’d pulled overtime and, upon entering to deliver yet another report, you’d found Wesker with his head resting atop his folded arms on the desk.  To this very day, you still had no idea what came over you to retrieve your S.T.A.R.S. jacket from your desk and drape it over his back.  You’d returned the next day to find it neatly folded atop your desk with a sticky note that simply said ‘Thank you.’

When the day came that he cornered you in the break room, black coffee with two sugars in hand from another one of your late mornings, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.

“I want to take you on a date.” 

Your eyes practically fell out of your head and your cheeks went up in flames.  You were stunned.  Captain Wesker was into men?  Not only that, but he was into you? You didn’t know what to say, what to do– anything.  You must have sat there blinking with your mouth agape for minutes before he’d finally just hummed, snagged a napkin and wrote his number down for you.

“If you find it agreeable, call this number later.  We can… work out the details then.”  

Looking back on it, he seemed just as nervous in that moment as you felt.  Not that you could blame him.  You figured he must have observed you for a long time to gauge if you’d be receptive to advances from another man, but the risk was still high– rejection, risk of harassment accusations… all sorts of bad outcomes must have been weighing on his mind.  But, that night, you called him.  Awkward as it had been, you both settled on a restaurant an hour outside of the city to reduce the chances of you two being seen by the others from the station, and the rest?  Well, it had progressed slow and steady, but your secret relationship with Captain Wesker, now simply Albert to you when appropriate, had entered its third month.

Which is why you’d grown nervous.

You didn’t know how to tell him.  At some point, things would progress beyond warm kisses and tender touches.  At some point your… anatomy was going to matter.  You wish you would’ve told him before all of this began and saved yourself the potential heartache of losing what had been the sweetest, gentlest relationship you’d ever had.  You worried yourself sick about it, always careful never to wear tank tops or shirts bright or thin enough that the tone of your chest scars could show through.  Your testosterone shots were easy enough to hide, thankfully.

Albert had been nothing less than a pure gentleman throughout it all, never once pushing your boundaries or showing impatience when you’d shy away from things.  Even the night you’d both fallen asleep on your bed consisted of little more than a hand resting atop the small of your back and your face nuzzled against the comforting rise and fall of his chest.

But, try as you might to hide it, Wesker had picked up on your anxieties.

“Have I made you uncomfortable?”  

Your heart fell through the floor the night he’d asked that.  You swore up and down over and over again that it was nothing he’d done and that you were just dealing with something that you didn’t know how to put into words.  He accepted your answer without question, pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and continued reading the file he'd brought home from work.

Your mind always turned to thoughts of how you were going to tell him, distracting you at the worst times.  Which, of course, put you in a situation where you had no choice in how the truth would come out.

The bulletproof vest had saved your life– for the most part, that is.  Gunmen in a hostage situation had released a young girl, sending her out to run toward the blockade.  She was to be a message, clearly, because they fired at her as soon as she got close.

You bolted out to cover her, mind devoid of sense the very moment you saw one of the men emerge from the building.

You took two to the chest with the first simply lodging into the center of your vest.  The other managed to pierce, embedding in your right pectoral.  You’d laid between squad cars and the steps to the bank for god knows how long, shaking fingers applying as much pressure to your wound as you could muster while the sun beat down on you without mercy.  The next thing you knew, you were being thrown into an ambulance and given the good stuff, and you woke up after who knows how long in a hospital bed.

Your first visitors were Rebecca and Jill.  You’d grown closer with them than most of the others– save for Wesker, of course.

“How are you feeling?”

You simply answer Jill with a lopsided smile and a hum, tipping your head back against the pillow.  “Mm, yup.”

“I don’t think the pain meds have worn off yet,” Rebecca giggles from across the room where she inspects the whiteboard covered with hastily scribbled patient information.

“Lucky him.  Should let Captain Wesker know he’s at least feeling good when we go back.  He’s…”  Jill turns to you with a sweet smile, clearly pondering her words.  “Distraught is a… is a word for how he is right now..”

That, of course, breaks your heart.  He was there when it happened.  Albert saw you go down.  Silly you, covering the girl they’d released…

Your eyelids grow heavier as time goes by, eventually slipping shut while you bask in their company.  When they open again, you’ve got two nurses at your bedside.  Even in your dazed state, you can put two and two together.  Just a change of bandages…

“Hi, sweetheart!” Chirps the woman closest to you while she peels away tape and gauze.  “You bled through so we’re just cleaning you up, okay?”

You simply nod and stare up at the ceiling.  It doesn’t hurt, thankfully, and the only thing you feel is cold air on your chest.  Part of you shudders.  Medical settings could be… complicated with your unique condition.  But you try not to anticipate the worst.

Oh how wrong you are.

“You can come in,” says the other nurse.  “Just replacing his bandages.  We’ll be out in a few.”

The hum in response yanks you from whatever blissful stupor the pain meds had lulled you into and you shoot up in the bed, shocking the nurse tending your wound.

“Careful, baby! You’ll tear your stitches–”

You barely hear her, nor do you feel her hands attempting to coax you back to the bed.  You go down, but not before locking eyes with your one and only.

Fuck…

They’ve got the top of your gown off and there’s no way–

You swallow thickly as your throat closes with a wave of shame.  You shut your eyes to hide the tears gathering within them, listening intently as Wesker’s nearly silent footsteps come to a halt on the other side of your bed.  He sees you.  There’s no way he doesn’t.  He’ll have questions.  Fuck, maybe he’ll just know outright.  Wesker’s a smart man…

You should’ve told him.

You keep your eyes screwed shut for what feels like eternity, even after the door clicks and the nurses leave you to each other’s company.  Neither of you says a word and it’s nearly pure silence until you hear the drag of a chair.  You just about jump out of your skin when his fingertips graze your knuckles, but they don’t retreat.  Instead, he takes your hand in his, lifts it, and presses kiss after kiss to it.

Your eyes crack open, vision bleary from tears and clearing as they spill.  You find him looking at you with furrowed brows and some painful combination of worry and relief written across his face.  His glasses are hooked on his shirt, showing you icy blues with a touch of red in the surrounding scleras. 

“How do you feel?”  His voice is as calm as ever, but, for once, his expression betrays him.

“Like I got shot,” you rasp.  You crack the tiniest smile despite the swirling dread and anxiety filling you to the brim.  You observe him for a minute, looking for something, anything to confirm your fears.

You find nothing.

“Indeed,” he hums, lips twitching at the corners.  “I’m glad you’re in good spirits despite the tears.”

You give a weepy chuckle that turns to tight sobs.  You feel so helpless and pathetic.  You’d almost died and now your little secret had been put on wide display for him.  Part of you figures this is just the universe’s way of telling you to get on with it.  Just finally rip the bandaid off.

You suddenly start to rise from your flat position.  Wesker watches you for signs of discomfort, taking his finger off the bed controls only once you were upright and–

Oh fuck– no, no, no!

They hadn’t buttoned your gown earlier.  The front section falls forward and you scramble to push it back up, holding it in place as you clench your eyes shut and bite your tongue.  His hand leaves yours and your stomach drops, ice shooting through your veins. For a minute, you think he’s leaving, but then–

Snap.  Snap.  Snap.

Your eyes widen, gaze falling to the hands working to pinch together the little buttons that run along the seam at your shoulder.  Wesker leans across you just slightly to repeat the process on the other side.  His scent fills your lungs and you can’t help but take a deep, greedy breath, chin quivering all the while. 

“Would you like to stay with me while you recover?”  He asks softly, taking his seat once more.  “Or would you prefer if I stayed with you instead?”

It’s so earnest that you could scream.  Part of you wonders if he’s just avoiding the elephant in the room.

“I imagine the comfort of your own home would lend itself better to your recovery,” he continues, taking your hand in his once more. “But I am not averse to either choice.”

“Al, you don’t have to–”

“You’ll need the help.”  He says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.  “I assume you’ve had restrictions like this before.”

That cold feeling runs through your body again. He’s not avoiding it.   

“Yeah…”  

And he’s completely right.  You will need help.  You doubt your restrictions will be as tight as those you had after top surgery, but you did take a bullet to the chest.  Two, technically…

“I want you to think about it.”  Wesker checks his watch as he speaks, rising from his chair with a small huffed breath.  “My break is nearly over, but I’ll try to come by again before visitation hours end.  You should rest some more.”

You let your head fall back against the pillow once again, eyes fixed on him as he pushes the chair back to its original spot.  Wesker approaches your bedside again, hand raising to rest against the side panel controls.

“Up or down?”  He asks, voice soft.

“Mm, somewhere in between please.”  

Your eyes lock with his as you descend.  That same tenderness still dances in his gaze– the kind he saves for you and you alone.  Despite the tendrils of anxiety tugging at your mind, you find such an act soothes you to the core.  Wesker breaks eye contact for a split second to glance behind himself, ever the private man he is, and he leans over you.  His lips press to your forehead first, warm and soft, and his right hand rises to your cheek to thumb at the curve.  He holds that position for a moment, breaking it only to press another to your lips.

“Hm,” he hums, breaking away to glance at the monitor.  He chuckles softly.  “Your heart rate just jumped.”

Oh god, you think it yourself.  You can practically feel your cheeks go up in flames, but you giggle nonetheless at his cheeky little observation.  “Well, you know… handsome blonde guys named Albert do that to me.”

He leaves with a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, much to your satisfaction.

They keep you at the hospital for another full day just to be safe.  Wesker spent his lunch break with you again, during which he reminded you that he would absolutely be aiding you while you’re under physical restrictions– you need only pick the place.  He’d been positive your own home would be better, so that’s what you opted for.  

Much to your joy, you weren’t excessively limited.  No heavy lifting, no strenuous activity– all the usuals.  You were to have two full weeks off before returning to simple desk duty.  Wesker picked you up, duffel bag of his necessities already packed in the back seat of his car, and brought you home.  Things were stellar until you realized he wanted to do just about every little thing for you, convinced you would cause yourself further harm.  Cooking was out of the question, so he made you meals that you could’ve sworn belonged in a gourmet restaurant rather than your little apartment. And laundry?  Forget about it.  You practically had to wrestle a handful of socks and towels from him so that you could feel less like a deadbeat.  Wound care, though… that was where things got tricky.  Wesker insisted that he be the one to change your bandages, and he did so twice a day, which was more often than was even recommended.

“I said I would take care of you.  What kind of partner would I be if I let you walk around in old bandages, hm?” 

It had been hard to let him do it.  Despite knowing full well he had a clear view of your chest in the hospital, you were still apprehensive to let him see it again.  No questions had been raised in regard to the origin of your scars, but that was somehow worse.  For a time, you figured he chalked it up to some sort of wound obtained in the field, but the day came where his hands wandered and a fingertip trailed the line running beneath your left pectoral.

“I…” You try, swallowing thickly to quell your nerves.

“Tell me about them.” Wesker breathes, finger still running along the ridge, pausing over the parts that weren’t quite perfect.

The worst part of everything?  You know full well you could just walk away and he’d leave it.  Al never pries; he always respects your boundaries.  'No' has always been a complete sentence to him, something you’ve appreciated endlessly in your time together with him.  But, all the same, wasn’t it time you gave an inch?  The man so endlessly patient and sweet to you, despite how he presents himself to the rest of the world, deserved the truth.

So you spill.

“I’m transgender…”  You murmur, words tight in your throat as you stare down to your socked feet.  From there, the rest falls free.  Every little detail.  Childhood woes, adulthood struggles– how happy you were the day you got your very first shot of testosterone and how you felt like you had a new lease on life itself when you woke up from your chest surgery all those years ago.  A tear or two escapes you as you tell your tale, but they’re not the bad kind.  No… they come from something else entirely.  A joy you could never put to words, a cresting wave of pride that you’ve come so far and lived so well despite every bump in the road, a sense of self that felt like wings upon your back…  With every story, you find yourself meeting his gaze more often until you’re looking right into those icy blues.

If Albert is dissatisfied with your revelation, he doesn’t show it.  Instead, he stands before you and listens intently to every word.  Without his glasses, you can see his eyes soften at certain parts, but it's the way his hand doesn’t quite leave from where he’d touched your scar before that keeps you hopeful throughout the entire ordeal.

“And I– I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I just…” You exhale hard, eyes dropping with the weaning of that miracle burst of confidence.  “Telling people is… difficult.”

“Did you think I would react badly?”

You didn’t expect such a question, let alone for it to be asked so gently.  “I… yes and no.”  You chew the inside of your cheek as you ponder the way to best explain it to him.  “Not everyone is kind about it.  I didn’t think– it wasn’t that I thought you’d be mean about it, I just… I didn’t want you to feel like I was lying to you…”

Wesker’s eyes flit to the side for a brief second.  “I understand.  Though I fail to see how you would’ve lied.”

At that, you let out a breathy little laugh, eyes closing as you shake your head.  “So you’re okay with it?”  You ask finally, hand rising to rest over his that still lingered at your chest.  The anxiety returns and you worry the side of your lower lip between your canines.

“I am,” Wesker hums, offering you perhaps the softest, sweetest smile you’ve ever seen grace his face.  His free hand reaches for the one that hangs loose by your side, holding it tenderly as he leans forward.  At first you think he’s going for a kiss, which you happily prepare for, but he presses his forehead to yours.  You allow your eyes to flutter shut, same as him.  “I’m afraid you’ve stolen my heart, my dear.” He pauses for a moment, brushing his nose against yours. “You are who you are.  I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

At that, there’s simply no helping the way you throw yourself at him, arms wrapping around him as tight as you can without agitating your wound.  He returns your embrace immediately, palms stroking up and down the length of your back, perfectly warm against your skin.  

There’s one last thing to tell him.  Something that’s been in your heart for a while now.  He deserves every truth from you, and you’re all too happy to give it to the man who assigns you heaps of reports at work and makes your heart sing at home.

“I love you.”  You murmur against his collar, smiling big and wide at how his arms tighten around you.  “I really, really love you.”

“Good,” he hums.  Wesker rests his chin atop your head, swaying slightly as if to music that wasn’t there.  “Because I really, really love you, too.”

You giggle at his mimicry, but, in truth, you’re overflowing with joy.  It’s as if the sun itself has risen in your chest to hear those words, but that is simply the effect Wesker has on you.

What bliss to know you warm his heart the same.

[archangeldyke-all]

i think i’ll die if we don’t get pt. 2 of sev and her trans identity, it was so good, i let out a breathe of contentment. thank you so much 💗💗💗

omg i'm so glad u liked it! i got another request for more of ceo sev, so i'm gonna combine these two :)

request for ceo Sevika & reader during their first meet/interviewing process pls 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

men and minors dni

sevika's loving being ceo.

nobody dares to give her even an inkling of shit at work anymore, and she thinks it's kinda funny watching people who were once so vile to her cower in fear when they deliver reports to her office.

she's good at her job, if a little scary when pissed. since she's started as ceo, the company's seen better numbers than ever before, all thanks to the changes she implemented the moment she took over.

the pay raise has been great too. with so much more disposable income, sevika's started to treat herself more and more frequently to pretty things and fun experiences.

most of her wardrobe is designer, custom tailored to her measurements. she's got several nice pieces of jewelry, gold chains and watches that all cost more than her yearly paycheck when she was working as a busser as a kid.

she's gotten herself two new cars, and moved herself into a penthouse apartment high above the twinkling lights of the city below.

she's been getting weekly massages and facials, and she's started getting her toes and nails done too-- nothing fancy, just a clear coat on top of perfectly manicured nails.

all in all, sevika's living her best life.

but there's one problem.

(two, if you ask her when she's drunk enough.)

the main problem is that she still can't find a good assistant. it's been a year and a half of her new position, and she's already gone through six assistants.

(the other problem, which she holds much closer to her heart, is that she's got a giant, luxurious bed at home, and nobody to cuddle her in it.)

her first assistant was... fine. he wasn't anything special, but he did his job well enough that sevika was willing to keep him around. he quit after four months, though, apparently 'tired of the office environment.'

the next three assistants all came and went within a week. the first was fired when sevika caught them snorting a line of cocaine off of her desk. the second quit after her she spilled an entire pot of coffee on herself. and the third made a sly remark under her breath that sevika hadn't been meant to hear, but heard anyways.

she found a reliable assistant in an ambitious young man, but he left after six months to return to university to get his graduate degree. he recommended his cousin take over the position, and sevika took him up on it.

his cousin was a nice young woman who held out for a few months with sevika, and made her coffee just like she liked it. but when her boyfriend proposed and asked her to move cross-country with him for his job, she said yes, and left sevika high and dry once again.

so now she's back to interviews. she fucking hates interviews.

she groans as she struts to her office door trying to give herself a pep-talk as she swings her glass door open and looks toward the reception desk for her next interview.

she chokes on her tongue when she sees you sitting in a chair, fiddling with the corner of your resume as you wait.

you're... beautiful. everything about you. sevika takes a moment to gawk at you before you notice her. you're like a walking wet dream just fucking... appeared in her waiting room. sevika's not sure if she's going to be able to get through this interview.

she calls your name off her clipboard, trying to ignore how much she likes the word in her mouth, and she loses her breath completely when your eyes snap up from your resume and you smile at her.

oh fuck. please let her be an asshole. sevika thinks, unwilling to believe someone as seemingly perfect as you could exist.

you're actually the farthest thing from an asshole in the world.

you're charming and giggly and you've got really great questions for sevika, like how she likes her coffee and what time she normally eats lunch.

you're under-qualified for the job, and when sevika points this out you cringe and shrug, scratching the back of your neck endearingly.

"i've never been a personal assistant before-- but i'm an incredibly fast learner, and if i can be honest, for this much money? i'd give a limb to keep you happy." you say, chuckling. sevika gulps, and bites her tongue to keep from saying some of the suggestions swirling in her mind of other ways you could keep her happy.

"well, a limb won't be necessary, but i should warn you. i've been told i can be a bit... cold. i'm no good with words, and i don't talk if i don't need to. it's nothing personal." she says. you smirk and tilt your head at her.

"you?" you ask, your eyes dancing up and down sevika's form in a way that makes her feel... tingly. "yeah, i guess i could see that." you say, giggling. sevika furrows her brow as she studies you.

"what's that supposed to mean?" she asks. something inside of her bubbles up, defensive and ready to kick you out of her office the second you say something wrong. she's been working on her defensive anger with her new therapist, well aware that it's just a way of protecting herself from potential disappointment, but she can't help it right now. because she'd be so fucking disappointed if you-- pretty, charming, slightly ditzy you-- were suddenly an asshole out of nowhere.

you just giggle and shrug. "you're so pretty it's hard to tell at first glance, but now that we're talking i can see that grumpiness creeping through." you say, smiling.

are you... teasing her?

and did you just call her pretty?

sevika blinks at you, the swirl of anger in her stomach fizzling out and leaving her vulnerable. she bites her lip, shakes her head, and reminds herself that this is a job interview. not a first date. she shouldn't be feeling all soft and giddy and excited right now.

she clears her throat and looks through her notes. you've answered all her questions, you've given the right answers for them all too. there's nothing left for her to do but just give in and hire you-- you're clearly perfect for the job.

she needs to find something wrong with you before she fucking... falls in love with you right here and now.

sevika takes a deep breath, then starts her interrogation.

"this job... it's not nine to five. that's what everyone else in the office works, but you'll be here when i get in to when i leave. some days, you'll be here before sunrise 'til after sunset." she says. you nod.

"that's fine with me." you say. sevika huffs.

"and you should know... i'm gay." she says, cringing the second the words leave her mouth. she never talks about this in interviews, but she's just hoping that you react poorly so she can write you off. you just blink at her.

"o-okay?" you ask. "are you asking me out or something?" you say, giggling. this catches her off guard, and sevika's jaw drops.

"what?" she asks. you shrug.

"i mean... i'd be into it, but i'd kinda like to know if i got the job before you take me to dinner." you say, laughing. sevika snorts, a smile pulling at her lips, and she pinches herself to keep from leaping across the table and kissing you.

"i'm trans too." she blurts. you blink at her again.

"...okay." you say, a little confused. "if you want... i could put reminders in your daily schedule for your hormones?" you ask, trying to figure out how the revelation ties to the job interview.

sevika just blinks at you, shocked and a little pissed off that the woman of her dreams has appeared in her life, only to become her assistant rather than her girlfriend.

sevika grunts, rubs her face, then sighs as she looks at you. you look concerned.

"did i do something wrong?" you ask, nervous. sevika sighs.

"no. you're perfect. i'm just... where the fuck have you been this whole time?" she asks, a little hysterical. you break out into a bright smile, and sevika's heart does a backflip.

"so...?"

"can you start tomorrow?"

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[rubberizer92]

John Doe woke up to the monotonous beep of his alarm clock, the digital display reading 05:00. He groaned and rolled over, his eyes adjusting to the dim light seeping through the blinds. The room was a study in neutral tones, from the beige carpet to the off-white walls, and the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of a clock that had been a gift from his father.

John was an average man in his late twenties, with a body that suggested more time spent in front of a computer than at the gym. His hair was a mess of dark waves, and his eyes were a tired shade of brown. He worked a desk job that paid the bills but didn't excite him, and his social life was as bland as the décor in his apartment. His mornings were a routine of the same old grind.

Today, however, was different. John had received a letter, not the usual email or bill, but an actual letter with a proper stamp and an official-looking envelope. It was from the government, but it wasn't a tax notification or a jury duty summons. It was an invitation to a place called the DRONE Center. He had heard whispers about it, a mysterious facility that promised a life of purpose and fulfillment.

Curiosity piqued, John had signed up for more information, not truly believing he would ever receive a response. Now, as he stared at the envelope, his heart thumped in his chest. The logo on the letter was a sleek black drone, the letters "DRONE" emblazoned in shiny silver beneath it. The Division for the Recalibration of Obedient Neural Enclaves, it read. What could that mean? He had read the brochure countless times, but the reality of it all was starting to sink in.

John showered and dressed in his best suit, feeling the weight of the decision he was about to make. The center promised to transform him into something greater, to serve a higher purpose. As he stepped out into the crisp morning air, the world around him looked sharper, more vivid than it ever had before. The thought of leaving his mundane life behind for something more was intoxicating.

He arrived at the center, a towering, gleaming building nestled in the heart of the city. The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing a reception area that was more like a luxury hotel lobby than a government facility. The man at the desk looked up at him, his smile as perfect as the gleaming chrome surfaces around them. "Welcome to DRONE," he said, his voice a soothing purr. "We've been expecting you."

The elevator ride to the top floor was swift and silent, the mirrored walls reflecting his slightly nervous expression. When the doors opened, he was greeted by a room that looked more like a futuristic gym than anything else. Men in tight, rubberized suits moved with mechanical grace, their bodies sculpted to perfection. The air was filled with the faint scent of antiseptic and something else, something that made John's heart race.

The man who had led him there, Dr. Hartwell, explained the process in a cool, detached tone. "You'll undergo a series of treatments and training sessions to become one of our elite drones. It's a three-year commitment, but I assure you, it's an opportunity of a lifetime."

John nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He had made his choice, and there was no turning back now. As he donned the provided uniform, the smooth rubber clinging to his skin, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of life awaited him in the service of the DRONE Center.

[interiorergonomics]

Benefits of Using the Same Office Furniture Series

Using the same office furniture series across a workspace offers several benefits. Among these include a cohesive and professional aesthetic which enhance the overall ambiance of any office. First of all, It ensures uniformity in design. This contributes to a more organized and visually appealing environment.

Additionally, consistent furniture series like the Diamond series , Bella Series and Elegante Series withstand heavy duty tasks. These are particularly crafted with standard dimensions of durable steel frames and legs. They feature ergonomic designs which greatly improve functionality since they perfectly match human body ratio specifications.

When it comes to workplace aesthetics, each pieces is designed to work together seamlessly, making it easier to create a well-organized and efficient layout. This uniformity also simplifies future additions or replacements, as matching pieces are more readily available, thus reducing the hassle of finding complementary items.

[saintmurd0ck]

cherry red

masterlist

pairing: frank castle x f!reader

summary: you and frank break into a vintage car dealership to scope something out for agent madani, and it turns out that you have a little time to spare before the drop happens

warnings: mentions of cocaine (no drug use), breaking and entering, the FBI lmao, shameless flirting, calling frank big boy, pain kink if you squint, (very little) spit because how else do you up frank's pleasure *gunshot*, unprotected p in v, creampie, goodbye i'm going to bed

a/n: for everyone who agrees that frank should be called 'big boy', this is for you!!! also this is my first full length frank fic lets fucking go

There’s not a sound but the rustle of your clothes as you case the dealership, Frank following closely behind you. He looks over his shoulders—a cautionary measure, despite the fact that the owners are on the other side of the world—before thumbing at the light switch on the wall.

Fluorescent lights flicker on in stages, a steady, low hum of electricity filling the space. Your eyes squint as you adjust to the brightness.

Frank looses a bated breath. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit,” you affirm, casting your gaze across the almost-cavernous, windowless room. Rows and rows of vintage cars stare back, their timeless, luxurious finishes glinting in the white light.

“That’s gotta be worth more than…” you trail off, looking down at your hands.

“Twenty-two million dollars. This room alone,” Frank finishes.

You swear, stepping forwards to skim your fingers along a chromed side mirror, then bending down to check your reflection. “So what are we looking for again?”

Frank sets his duffel bag down onto the reception desk, careful not to disturb the fanned business cards adorning the surface. “Guns, coke, contraband,” he lists. “Whatever we can find.”

“Hmm.”

“What?” Frank asks, bewildered. His attention snaps to you.

“Is there a car in particular we’re looking for?”

“Honestly sweetheart, I dunno. If we gotta sweep every single one, that’s what we gotta do.”

You push up off your knees, weaving in and out of the cars. “Before the auction, yeah?”

“S’right,” he grunts, pulling out a silver crowbar. “Smart girl.”

Ignoring the heat now searing your face, you focus on trying to name the cars, although you really only recognise a few of them.

Your eyes warily glaze over a black 1962 Chevrolet Corvette, its headlights polished to perfection. Next to it there are a number of vintage Ferraris, one Aston Martin, and a newer model Rolls Royce in the corner.

But one car in particular snags your eye, knocking the breath from you.

Frank whistles. “She’s pretty.”

You shoot him an incredulous glare, slightly offended he’d say that about the car and not you.

He’s not wrong, though.

It’s an old Mercedes. A 1961 Roadster, you think, marvelling at the almost pearlescent ivory paint restoration, the perfectly polished hubcaps, and the smooth leather interior of the deepest cherry red. You’re transfixed as you hear the engine in your mind, the revving beneath your feet, feeling the phantom breeze ruffling your hair as you speed down the highway with no destination in mind.

“You know what I think?” Frank says, clearing his throat, but you’re caught in your fever dream, music blaring from a shut-off radio that’s only active in your head. “I think…” he trails off, voice dropping to a bare whisper.

You whirl around as a loud clang drags you back to the present, one of the gleaming Mercedes-Benz hubcaps laying flat on the ground.

“What the hell, Frank?” you glower, eyes widening.

He responds with a grunt as he moves to the driver’s side, leaning his bodyweight into the crowbar as the next hubcap pops off.

Your hands fly to your face as he continues to move around the car, vandalising it beyond—

Oh.

The corners of Frank’s mouth curl into a wry smirk. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

He motions for you to come over, using his crowbar to pry out several small, duct-tape-wrapped packages from inside the wheel. “Dumbest fuckin’ hiding place I’ve ever seen.”

He pats the passenger door. “Gotta give it to ‘em, though. Moving drugs through cars at an auction? It’s a Ponzi scheme, but a goddamn good one.”

“This what I think it is?” you ask, crouching down next to him, irresolutely turning one of the bricks over.

He nods, pulling a knife tucked into his boot before sticking it into one of the packages. He dips his hand into the opening, rubbing what looks to be a white powder in between his fingers.

“Time to call Madani,” he grits, placing the brick back on the ground. “Could you do that f’me, sweetheart?”

Biting your lip, you pull out your phone to dial Madani’s number, wincing as Frank digs out the rest of the cocaine from your beloved Roadster. In eager anticipation, she picks up after the first ring, and the drop is arranged for 2.30 AM.

That leaves you thirty minutes to spare.

“So, Frank,” you remark, tucking your phone back in your pocket, “do we need to check any of the other cars?”

He sets the crowbar on the ground, getting up to lean against the front passenger side door. “Nah,” he replies, folding his arms across his chest, “FBI’s problem now.”

The growing smile on your face turns suggestive. “Guess we have time to kill before they show up, hm?”

Frank cocks his head. “And what’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?”

You stride towards him, reaching out your hands to uncross his arms so they lay straight at his sides. Trailing the tip of your index finger up his chest, you circle the outline of his mouth. It catches on his bottom lip as you drag it back down, and he shudders at the lightness of your touch.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, big boy?” you grin.

He moves off the car, rolling his eyes as you saunter to the driver’s side, brows furrowing as you go to unlatch the door. The red leather is cool beneath you as you slide in, hands instinctively going to grip the wheel. Imagining the engine roaring to life, you press your foot down on the accelerator, as far as it’ll go.

“You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” Frank chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe,” you muse, aware of the mischievous glint in your eyes. “If that’s something you want.”

“You haven’t had any of the white stuff, have ‘ya? ‘Cause you’re sure acting like it.”

“Dick,” you swear. “We’re surrounded by nice cars, Frank. How do you expect me to behave?” Taking your hands off the wheel, you twist in your seat to face him. “Surely they’d have the keys here somewhere, right?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, like they’d keep the keys to a four hundred thousand dollar car here.”

“Awww,” you pout, “but I wanna go for a ride.”

Frank’s ears perk up. “S’that so?”

You lean back against the seat, running your tongue over your lips. “In this car.”

“What, and you think I can help with that?”

You bat your eyes at him. “Don’t get too flattered, but I think you’re the only person in the world who can help with that right now.”

“Right now?” he shoots back. “Just right now, huh?”

“Shut up and get over here before I rescind my request, Castle.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him move that fast, because he climbs into the passenger side, scrambling to get you on his lap.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, hands finding your waist, guiding you back and forth over his hardening cock. His breath fans your neck as he nips at your pulse, spreading his legs apart on the seat.

You tip your chin downwards, your lips messily crashing into his, his mouth—his body—warm and supple against yours. He shifts his hips, slotting himself between your thighs and into the one place you need him most. At this rate, the friction of your clothing is almost too much to bear, but you’ve always been one to toe the line between pain and pleasure.

Especially when Frank’s involved.

Your body clenches as he palms your clit, groaning your name into your skin, etching kisses along the curve of your jaw. He skirts the hem of your top, slipping his tongue into your mouth before lifting it over your head, leaving it in a scandalous pile on the driver’s side.

“Naughty girl,” he laughs dryly, adding your bra to the pile along with his own shirt. “Tell me this isn’t what you thought of first when you saw the car.” He stiffens as you catch his bottom lip with your teeth.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t enjoying it,” you croon, the jovial note of your amusement diffusing itself into the vast space of the dealership. Your fingers roam along the plane of his stomach, feeling his abs contort underneath your touch. “Pretty boy.”

Resting his hands on either side of your spine, Frank swipes his thumbs over your nipples, intently staring as you throw your head back, rolling your hips into his. You squeeze your thighs into his sides as he seals his mouth over one of your breasts, flicking his tongue over the pebbled flesh.

“Bruise—“ he groans, his voice caught in a hoarse whisper. Oh, right, you remember, looking down at the purple splotch stretching across the ribs on his right side.

But you don’t let up, not when he’s driving you mad and touching you like this. You dig your knee into the bruise lightly, waiting for his body to seize, for his panting to echo before putting it back down on the seat.

“You’re a fuckin’— animal—“

Something compels you to do it again, but he slaps your leg away, retaliating by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You cry out his name, the echo of it thundering in your ears.

“Dick,” you gasp, slamming your palms into his chest. You gripe at the fact that he loses himself in a quiet sort of laughter, and that he’s all chiseled muscle and not putty in your hands.

“You insulting me or s’that what you want?”

The mirthful gleam in his eyes flicker as he looks you up and down, waiting for your next move.

“Fine,” you say, a little too scornful considering the situation you’ve found yourself in, moving to undo his belt. Pausing once to take your own pants off, your fingers move deftly to unbutton his jeans before you tug them down and off his legs. Not taking your gaze off of him, you brace one hand on his shoulder while the other slowly creeps up his thigh.

Frank squirms beneath you, his lips pressing into a thin line as you cup his balls. Your breathing turns shallow as you wrap your hand around his shaft, running your thumb over the precum glistening on the head of his cock.

“Fuckin’— shit—,“ he hisses as you squeeze him. You hinge forward to nip his earlobe, to whisper filthy nothings in his ear, but he bucks his hips upwards, almost reflexively.

And that is something too good to pass up.

“Feel good, Frankie?” you ask, moving to stroke him up and down, ensuring your pace is just shy of what he likes on himself.

“Mm—“

“I think this’ll feel better,” you interject, pausing to spit on his cock.

Frank’s mouth parts in a wide groan at the added lubrication, and the way you’ve so brazenly spat on him, narrowly missing the priceless cherry red leather. Not that having sex in this car isn’t already brazen to begin with.

Clambering back onto his lap, you nudge his cock into your opening, coating him in the slick of your arousal. You press your face against his cheek as he pushes himself inside you, moaning into his mouth at the sensation of his thick head stretching you out. It burns, but it burns so fucking good.

He grits his teeth as he eases you down on him, guiding you inch-by-inch until you're so full you can barely breathe, your core tightening to the point where you wonder if he can feel pleasure at all.

He reminds you that yes, in fact he can, because he's cursing under his breath, gripping the dashboard so goddamn hard you think he might leave half-moon marks in the shape of his nails. He jerks his hips into yours, driving himself so deep you see stars for a second, whispering into the trance of your intimacy that you're his girl and that you feel so fuckin' tight he might burst at any given moment.

Now accommodated to his size, you fling your arms around his neck as you begin to move, resting your forehead against his. You roll your hips in languid, circular motions, fingers curling in the short hair at the nape of his neck.

"God fucking damn, Frank," you whimper, switching to bounce on his lap, holding onto the top of the seat for extra support. He sends you into a catatonic state of delirium as his thick cock hits deeper in this position, and soon you're squeezing around him, crying his name and falling over the edge of satisfaction.

Frank buries his face in your tits as you collapse onto his chest, your body still moving to the rhythm pounding inside your head.

"Hey, hey sweetheart," he says gently, moving to caress your jaw. "You okay?"

You flash him a weak smile, holding out a thumbs-up. "Keep going, Frank. M'not done yet."

"You sure?"

Raising your hips only to slam them back down on his seems to give him the reassurance he's seeking. Thrill shoots up your spine as he pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

His tone is nothing short of wicked. "I do as I'm told, yeah?"

He drills himself into you, setting a ruthless pace, mouth roving over every accessible inch of bare skin. You thank every god you can think of for making this place soundproof, because the two of you would be so incredibly dead if anyone could hear the sounds coming from your mouth.

You fall apart on his cock more times than you can count, burying your face in his neck as Frank's thrusts become more erratic and sloppy, his strokes faltering with every passing second.

"M'gonna cum for you," he groans, throwing his head back against the seat and lurching his arm towards the top of the windscreen. He presses one last open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone as his hips stutter, spilling every last drop inside you.

"Fuck," he whispers, his cock twitching as you finally muster the energy to get off of him. He looks down at himself, horrified, and you follow his eye line to the mess on the seat between his thighs.

You choke, caught between a laugh and a gasp, equally panicking at how you're going to clean it up and possibly more importantly, how Madani isn't going to figure out what you've just done.

"Guess we can call this hard evidence for the FBI?" you sputter, trying your best to swallow your growing smirk.

Frank's cheeks turn red as he blows out a breath. "S'alright. This belonged to an asshole and it was gonna be bought by an even bigger one." He shrugs. "If I can't put 'em down, this is the least they owe me."

"You know Frankie, sometimes your logic is flawed, but I think you're right on this one."

He goes to smack your ass, but as you pull your panties on, your phone lights up in the footwell of the car, its shrill ringtone deafening to your ears.

MADANI

You glance at Frank, a humorous expression dancing across your face. "Good timing, huh?"

"Ain't that right."

tags {x} for all my frank girlies!!! <3 (I'M SORRY IF I FORGOT SOMEONE I'M SO NOT OK RIGHT NOW)

@marvelswh0re @murdock-and-the-sea @itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass @reborn-rekall @castlesnchurches @chellestrash @darlingshane @chvoswxtch @stress--relief @pedrito-friskito

[lovelygirlwithablog]

Mission: Amore

pairing: Harvey Specter x f!reader

Summary: Harvey Specter doesn’t do undercover missions—or romance. But in Milan with you, lines blur between duty and desire. As the mission turns deadly, Harvey realizes more than just his heart is at risk. Italy may be his toughest—and most personal—case yet.

Warnings: romance, friends to lovers, violence/action, mild language, emotional angst, alcohol use, mature themes, smut, p!v, fluff

A/N: i can't thank you enough for all the likes, reblogs and new followers (seriously, i'm jumping around my room😭). sorry for taking so long to post something but school is taking more time than usual (exam's month, yay) and I really hope you will like this story!! requests are always opened <3

The hum of the plane settled into a low, steady drone as you leaned back, staring out the window at the endless stretch of clouds and sky. This wasn’t how you’d pictured your first trip to Italy—sitting next to Harvey Specter on a red-eye flight with an agenda that would likely get you into trouble.

Harvey, of course, was completely unfazed. He looked relaxed, leaning back in his seat with his laptop open, typing away as if he were just on another late night at the office. The occasional clink of his cufflinks as he adjusted his shirt sleeve was the only sound breaking through the silence between you.

"Are you nervous?" he asked suddenly, without looking up.

You raised an eyebrow. "About the mission or sitting next to you for seven hours?"

He smirked, finally glancing over. “You tell me.”

Typical Harvey—throwing the question right back at you. You shifted in your seat, trying to shake the feeling that he could see right through your calm exterior. If he knew how tightly wound you were, or how the thought of being in close quarters with him for days was already tying your stomach into knots, he didn’t show it.

"Just hoping you don’t snore," you shot back. "Or hog the armrest."

He chuckled, the low, warm sound oddly comforting. "I don’t snore. And you can have the armrest, partner." He emphasized the last word.

You took a steadying breath and nodded, trying to match his calm, collected energy. "Fine. But just remember, this is a team effort."

His eyes softened just a little as he studied you, almost as if he were considering something he hadn’t allowed himself to think about until now. "Trust me. I know what’s at stake."

With that, he returned to his laptop, but you couldn’t shake the feeling off. Seven hours of flight lay ahead—and days in Milan after that. Somehow, you knew this trip would be more than you’d bargained for.

The private jet landed smoothly at Milan’s Malpensa Airport, and after a quick transfer, you found yourself stepping into the grand lobby of the hotel. The air was rich with the scent of fresh espresso and a hint of luxury. Ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and marble floors gleamed underfoot.

Harvey walked beside you, exuding his usual confidence, his eyes scanning the area as if evaluating every detail. You couldn’t help but admire the way he carried himself—like he owned the place.

"Nice digs, right?" he said, glancing over at you with that trademark smirk. "I figured if we’re going to do this, we might as well do it in style."

"It’s certainly… impressive,"you replied, trying to hide your awe. "Just remember, we’re not here for the amenities."

“Relax,” he said, feigning innocence. “I’m just appreciating the view.” His eyes flicked to a couple of well-dressed guests across the lobby, then back to you. “Besides, a little luxury never hurt anyone, especially not when you’re about to dive into the center of Milan’s criminal scene.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“True, but it’s part of my charm,” he shot back, moving toward the reception desk. As you approached, the receptionist greeted Harvey with a smile, clearly recognizing him.

“Mr. Specter, welcome back,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Your suite is ready.”

“Thank you,” he replied smoothly, flashing a grin that could charm the socks off anyone. He turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “I hope you’re ready for a little bit of luxury. I booked us a suite.”

“A suite?” You blinked in surprise, caught off guard. “I thought we were keeping things professional.”

“Professional doesn’t mean we have to be uncomfortable,” he countered, a playful glint in his eye. “Trust me, we’ll need the extra space to strategize.”

You could feel your heart race as you followed him to the elevator. As the doors slid closed, you both exchanged a glance.

When the doors opened to the suite, you stepped inside, taking in the plush furnishings, sweeping views of the city, and the unmistakable air of sophistication.

“Welcome to our temporary headquarters,” Harvey said, his voice low and teasing. “I’d say we’ve arrived in style.”

He stepped closer, leaning against the door frame with that familiar cocky demeanor. “As long as we’re on the same team, I think we’ll manage just fine.”

As night fell over Milan, you stepped out of the hotel with Harvey, the warm evening air brushing against your skin. The streets were alive with people, laughter, music, and the delicious smell of Italian food wafted through the air.

As you and Harvey settled into a cozy corner table at a Italian restaurant, the ambiance was warm and inviting, with flickering candlelight casting soft shadows around the room. You took a sip of the rich red wine the waiter had poured, letting the flavors swirl over your tongue.

“I can’t believe we’re in Milan,” you said, glancing around at the rustic decor and the delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen.

“Don’t get too comfortable. We have work to do,” he replied playfully, raising his glass in a mock toast. “But I guess a little wine never hurt anyone.”

Just then, a man approached your table—a tall, well-dressed stranger with dark hair and an easy smile. He seemed confident, exuding an effortless charm as he stopped beside you.

“Excuse me,” he said, addressing you directly. “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. Your smile could light up the entire city.” His accent was Italian, smooth and melodic.

Ah, the usual pick up line.

You weren't impressed, but, well, you're not always in Italy.

You glanced at Harvey, who remained quiet but stiffened slightly in his seat.

“Thank you,” you said, returning the man a smile.

“Matteo,” he introduced himself, a twinkle in his eye. “Would you mind if I joined you for a moment?”

Before you could think twice, you nodded. "Sure, that would be nice.”

Matteo slid into the empty seat across from you, and you could feel Harvey’s gaze, the atmosphere shifting subtly.

“So, what brings you to Milan?” Matteo asked, leaning in slightly.

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could say anything, Harvey interjected, his tone smooth and casual. “We’re on our honeymoon,” he declared, a charming smile plastered on his face.

You blinked in surprise, momentarily caught off guard. “Uh—” you began, but Harvey continued seamlessly.

“I’m ‘Jack,’ and this is my beautiful wife, ‘Sophie,’” he said, his confidence unwavering. This were your false identities. Jack and Sophie Castens, a married couple from California.

Matteo’s expression faltered slightly, his eyes widening in surprise. “Oh, I see. Congratulations,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You could sense the tension in the air, and the mood shifted. Matteo’s body language changed, becoming a bit more rigid as he looked between you and Harvey. “Well, it was nice to meet you both,” he said quickly, his charming demeanor fading. “Enjoy your evening.”

With that, Matteo stood up, his smile replaced by a polite but strained expression. He glanced at you once more before walking away.

You watched him go. “Wow, that was unexpected,” you said, glancing at Harvey, who wore an amused expression but was clearly hiding his irritation.

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” he replied, a hint of satisfaction in his tone.

You shook your head, still processing what had just happened. “He didn’t even get a chance to say anything interesting.”

“Yeah, well, he shouldn’t have been flirting with my wife,” Harvey said, leaning back.

After the unexpected encounter with Matteo, you and Harvey decided to leave the restaurant and take a stroll through the streets of Milan. The city was alive with energy, the warm glow of street lamps illuminating the cobblestone paths.

As you walked side by side, the tension from dinner seemed to melt away. You could feel the electric atmosphere around you, and for a moment, it felt as if the city was yours alone. The stunning Duomo loomed in the distance, its intricate details bathed in soft light.

“This place is incredible,” you said, glancing up at the cathedral. “I could get lost here forever.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Harvey replied with a smirk, but there was a hint of warmth in his tone.

Just as your fingers brushed against his, his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the moment. He sighed, pulling it out and glancing at the screen.

“Work?” you asked, noting the slight annoyance in his expression.

“Yeah, quick call,” he said, answering it almost reluctantly. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, watching as he stepped a few paces away, his voice low and focused. You turned your gaze back to the beautiful streets, the blend of old architecture and modern life surrounding you. The atmosphere was buzzing, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

While Harvey spoke, you noticed a shadowy figure lingering at the edge of the plaza. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the clothing and stance—it matched the description of the criminal you were supposed to be tracking.

You glanced back at Harvey, who was still engaged in his call, his brow furrowed in concentration. The figure shifted, and your pulse quickened. You were about to call out to him when the man turned and disappeared into a narrow alley.

Your instincts kicked in. You hesitated, torn between wanting to alert Harvey and the urgency of remaining calm.

Harvey ended the call and walked back towards you, his expression shifting as he noticed your distraction. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just thought I saw someone… Never mind,” you said, trying to brush it off while the adrenaline buzzed in your veins.

He studied you for a moment, concern flickering in his eyes. “You sure? We can keep walking if you want.”

You hesitated, then shook your head. “No, I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”

With a nod, Harvey stepped closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as you resumed walking. But as you moved forward, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were on the edge of something. Someone.

Just as you were about to share your concern, a series of sharp, echoing gunshots rang out through the night.

Your heart raced as you instinctively grabbed Harvey’s arm, pulling him closer to you. “Did you hear that?” you whispered, the adrenaline surging through your veins.

He nodded, his expression shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant. “Stay close,” he said, scanning the street for any sign of danger.

You could see the tension in his posture as he led you towards a nearby alley, instinctively guiding you away from the noise. The sound of gunfire reverberated in your ears, sharp and shocking against the otherwise lively backdrop of the city.

“Do you think it’s—?” you began, but Harvey cut you off.

“Not here. We need to find cover,” he replied, his voice low and steady, a hint of urgency threading through his words.

As you turned into the alley, your heart pounded, the reality of the situation crashing down around you. You pressed against the cool stone wall, glancing back at the street, where shadows darted past in a panic.

“Stay quiet,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on the mouth of the alley. You nodded, your breath quickening as you realized that this was not just a night of sightseeing—it was quickly becoming a dangerous mission.

Harvey’s phone buzzed again, but he ignored it, fully focused on the unfolding situation.

Then, another shot rang out, closer this time, followed by a flurry of footsteps. You pressed yourself further against the wall, your pulse racing.

“Do you think they’re after us?” you whispered, the gravity of the situation hitting you hard.

“Just stay behind me,” he said, his voice calm but firm, as he stepped slightly in front of you, instinctively shielding you from whatever was about to unfold.

The sound of chaos erupted around you—people shouting, the clatter of heels against the cobblestones, and the metallic echo of gunfire. You exchanged a glance with Harvey, the unspoken understanding between you solidifying in that moment. You were in this together, and there was no turning back now.

The night had turned dark and dangerous, and as the sounds of violence continued, you felt a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins.

As the chaos unfolded outside, you pressed your back against the cool wall of the alley, your heart racing as adrenaline surged through you. Harvey’s eyes were focused, scanning the street where the gunfire had erupted. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, and you felt the danger closing in.

“Stay here,” he said, his voice low and steady. He stepped a bit further into the alley, trying to get a better look at what was happening. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he prepared for anything that might come next.

Then, without warning, a figure appeared at the mouth of the alley—a masked man, his gun drawn and aimed into the night. Harvey’s instincts kicked in, and he raised his own weapon, ready to take action.

“Harvey, wait!” you shouted, panic rising in your chest, but it was too late.

The sound of gunfire rang out again, and you froze, your eyes wide as Harvey pulled the trigger. Just as he was about to fire, another shot rang out—a sharp crack that seemed to split the air.

Time slowed. You watched in horror as the bullet struck Harvey, hitting him square in the side. He stumbled back, his expression shifting from determination to shock as he gasped, clutching his side.

“Harvey!” you screamed, rushing forward as he fell against the wall, pain reflecting across his features.

He managed to keep his grip on his gun, but you could see the blood seeping through his shirt. Panic surged through you as you knelt beside him, your hands shaking. “Oh my God, what do I do?”

“Get down!” he grunted, struggling to stay conscious, his voice strained.

You quickly ducked down beside him, your heart racing. You could hear the sounds of chaos growing louder as more footsteps approached, the shadows of more figures moving closer. You had to act fast.

“Harvey, I need to get you out of here,” you said, your voice trembling as you pressed your hands against the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

“Don’t… don’t let them see you,” he managed to say, his breath coming in sharp gasps.

Your mind raced, torn between the urgency of the moment and the overwhelming fear gripping you. “I can’t leave you,” you said, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Trust me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. “You need to go.”

You shook your head, desperation clawing at your throat. “I’m not leaving you here!”

“Listen to me,” he insisted, a fierce determination burning in his eyes despite the pain. “Get to safety. Call for help.”

Suddenly, more shots rang out, and the figures were drawing nearer. You could see the silhouettes in the dim light, their intentions clear.

Just then, a surge of adrenaline coursed through you. You couldn’t let them find you here. With one last, frantic look at Harvey, you made the decision. You would follow his orders, but you weren’t leaving without a fight.

“I’ll be back,” you promised, your voice steady despite the fear threatening to overwhelm you. You squeezed his hand tightly, giving him a final look of determination before slipping deeper into the shadows of the alley, heart pounding and breath hitching, ready to do whatever it took to save him.

With your heart racing and adrenaline pumping, you found a small vantage point, crouching behind a stack of crates. Peering out into the street, you saw the masked figures advancing, their weapons drawn and aimed at the fleeing crowd. Fear gripped the bystanders as they scattered, but you couldn't let them become victims tonight.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied your shaking hands. You had trained for situations like this, and while you had never imagined you'd be in a life-or-death scenario, the skills you had honed kicked into high gear. You couldn't let fear dictate your actions. You were going to fight back.

You spotted a clear target—a thug aiming his gun at a terrified couple, his finger tightening on the trigger. Without thinking, you raised your own weapon, the weight of it feeling surprisingly comfortable in your grip. You focused on your breath, silencing the chaos around you as you took aim.

BANG!

The shot rang out, echoing through the night. The thug dropped to the ground, surprise etched on his face as he crumpled.

Your heart raced.

You shifted your aim to another figure who was attempting to intimidate a group of young people.

BANG!

Another shot. Another thug fell, and you felt the power of your actions ignite a fire within you.

"Get down!" you shouted to the civilians, urging them to find cover as you continued to take out the armed threats one by one.

Each shot was precise, calculated. Your training kicked in, and you fell into a rhythm, moving with confidence and purpose.

As the remaining thugs realized they were being picked off one by one, panic spread among them. They began to turn on each other, unsure of where the threat was coming from. You felt a surge of adrenaline as you ducked behind cover, scanning the area for any remaining targets.

"Drop your weapons!" you shouted, your voice steady and commanding. The remaining thugs hesitated, fear creeping into their expressions as they weighed their options.

One of them raised his gun, but you were quicker.

BANG!

The shot rang out, and he fell to the ground, his weapon clattering beside him. The others dropped their guns, surrendering as they realized they were no match for you.

Breathing heavily, you turned to the group of bystanders who had sought refuge, their eyes wide with shock and gratitude. "Is everyone okay?" you asked, scanning the crowd for any signs of injury.

They nodded. Just then, you remembered Harvey. "I need to get Harvey!" you shouted, rushing back to where you had left him.

You found him leaning against the wall, his face pale.

"Y/N..." he said, a hint of a smile breaking through the pain.

"Did you doubt me?" you replied, kneeling beside him and pressing your hand over the wound to staunch the bleeding. Tears were starting to fall down your cheeks. "I'm getting you out of here."

Before he could respond, the sound of approaching sirens grew louder, and the realization of the situation settled in. You had done it. You saved lives.

-

The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air as you paced back and forth in the hospital waiting room, your heart racing. The chaos of the night was behind you, but the weight of it pressed heavily on your chest. After the gunfire subsided, the paramedics had arrived swiftly, transporting Harvey away on a stretcher, his face pale and strained.

You had insisted on going with him, but they had gently but firmly told you to stay behind. “We’ll take care of him. He needs you to stay calm and wait,” one of the paramedics had said, but the reassurance did little to quell the anxiety swirling inside you.

Now, all you could do was wait. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, illuminating the small room filled with uncomfortable plastic chairs and the distant sounds of hospital machinery. You could feel your heart thudding in your chest as you replayed the events of the night over and over in your mind.

You leaned against the wall, glancing at the clock. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Harvey had been there for you; now you needed to be strong for him.

Every time the automatic doors opened, your pulse quickened, hoping it would be a doctor coming to give you news. You watched families come and go, some faces filled with joy, others with despair, and you felt a knot tighten in your stomach. What if something happened to him? What if he didn’t make it?

Just as you began to spiral into a haze of anxiety, the doors swung open again, and a doctor in scrubs entered the waiting room. Your heart leaped into your throat as you approached him, desperate for answers.

“Are you here for Harvey Specter?” the doctor asked, looking at you.

“Yes! How is he?” you replied, your voice trembling.

“He’s stable. We were able to stop the bleeding, but he will need to undergo surgery to repair the damage,” the doctor explained, his tone calm but serious.

Relief flooded through you, but it was quickly followed by a wave of concern. “Can I see him?” you asked, needing to be by his side.

“Not just yet. He’s in surgery now, but you can wait here. The nurses will keep you updated,” the doctor replied, giving you a reassuring nod before turning to leave.

You watched him go, your heart still racing. He was alive—Harvey was alive. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

You returned to your seat, fingers tapping nervously against your thigh as you stared at the wall, lost in thought. The events of the night replayed in your mind—the gunfire, the adrenaline, and how you had taken control. But now, all you felt was helplessness.

As you stared at the wall, you realized you didn’t just care about Harvey as a colleague or a partner; it was deeper than that.

Harvey had risked everything to protect you, and you were determined to show him just how much he meant to you.

-

"Y/N L/N." a voice suddenly calls for you. It's one of the nurses that was in and out of Harvey's room.

You stand up quick and look at her, your heart beating out of your chest.

"You can see him." she spoke, her italian accent coming to the surface as she elaborates. "He is stable and will leave the hospital tomorrow."

"Gosh, thank you," you finally manage to smile.

You walk slowly into the room and close the door behind you.

"Y/N," you heard Harvey whispering and you ran to his bed.

"Harvey..." you sat on a chair beside him. You looked at him and touched his face with your fingers. "I thought I lost you..." your voice cracks as tears begin to pile in the corners of your eyes.

"I wouldn't give you that joy." he smiles. God, that beautiful smile.

You smile softly and nod.

"I-I can't imagine a life without you in it." you look away from his eyes.

Before he could speak, the nurse comes back into the room.

"Miss, I'm going to ask you to leave. We have to run some tests on his body. He is going to be fine."

You look at him one more time and leave.

-

You pace the hotel room, the echo of the news that Harvey would be okay doing little to calm the tight coil of worry in your chest. The soft thud of your footsteps blends with the muffled city sounds outside, each second stretching longer than the last.

Suddenly, the door clicks open, and you whirl around to find Harvey stepping in. His suit jacket is draped over one arm, and a few stitches run along his brow, stark against his otherwise composed expression.

“Are you kidding me?” you snap, relief and anger tangled in your voice. “You should be in the hospital, not strutting back here like it’s just another day at the office.”

He smirks, the hint of exhaustion in his eyes betraying his voice. "Missed me?”

You glare at him, folding your arms as your pulse quickens for an entirely different reason.

“You’re unbelievable, Harvey. You think this is funny? You scared the hell out of me.”

For a moment, his expression softens, and the room falls into silence. Harvey steps closer, his smirk fading. “I know,” he says, voice lower, more honest. “I’m sorry.”

The apology catches you off guard. It’s rare for Harvey to admit when he’s wrong, let alone with the hint of vulnerability you now see in his eyes. You stare at him, words momentarily escaping you, as the anger simmers into something softer, something that feels like the ache you’ve been holding onto for far too long.

“Sorry doesn’t cover it,” you say, the tension in your shoulders slowly unwinding as you drop your arms to your sides. “You could have—” Your voice cracks before you can finish the thought, and you turn away, unable to look at him without remembering the hospital room, the bandages, the sight of him lying motionless in blood.

You feel him step closer, close enough that the heat from his body warms your back. “Hey,” he says softly, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ignore how his voice makes your pulse flutter.

“I’m here now, and I’m okay.”

You let out a shaky breath and turn to face him. The distance between you is almost nothing, and you can see the faint trace of exhaustion in the way his eyes narrow. Without thinking, your hand reaches up to touch the edge of the stitches, gentle enough that he barely flinches.

“You’re not invincible, Harvey,” you whisper, your eyes meeting his. “One day you won’t be fine."

His hand finds yours, pressing it against his cheek.

“Then I guess I’ll have to make sure that day never comes.”

Your heart lurches at his promise. Before you can say anything else, Harvey leans in, eyes searching yours for permission, and in that moment, all the worry, all the fear melts away.

“Harvey,” you whisper, but before you can say anything else, he closes the distance, capturing your lips with his. The kiss is gentle at first, hesitant, as if testing the waters. But then, the weight of everything unsaid—years of banter, stolen glances, unspoken confessions—crashes over both of you, and the kiss deepens.

Your hands find their way to the lapels of his shirt, gripping them as if to anchor yourself to this moment, to him.

Harvey’s fingers thread through your hair, pulling you closer until there’s not a breath between you. The world outside the hotel room dissolves, leaving just the two of you, tangled in the realization that whatever this is, it’s real, and it’s been waiting too long to be acknowledged.

When you finally pull apart, your breath comes in quick, unsteady gasps, and Harvey’s forehead rests against yours. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles—soft and genuine in a way you’ve only seen glimpses of before.

“Took us long enough,” he murmurs, and you can’t help but laugh, the sound breaking through the last of the tension.

“Yeah,” you say, fingers still curled in his shirt. “It did.”

Harvey tilts his head, searching your face as if to commit every detail to memory. There's a question there, one you answer by closing the distance and brushing your lips against his again, this time slower, savoring his taste.

His hands slide down your arms, resting at your waist before moving to the hem of your shirt. He hesitates, giving you a moment to pull back, but you don't. Instead, you reach up, guiding his jacket off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor in a careless heap.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as he tugs your shirt up, and you lift your arms to help, your skin tingling as the fabric slips away.

The soft, shared gasps echo in the quiet room as he traces a line up your spine, pulling you close. The heat of his touch sears through every inch of you, erasing the worry and fear. You reach for the buttons of his shirt, fingers fumbling as he watches you.

"Careful," he whispers, the smirk returning for just a moment.

You roll your eyes playfully before finishing with the last button and sliding the shirt off his broad shoulders. His expression shifts again, back to something serious, as he cups your face with one hand, eyes searching yours before leaning in.

Harvey’s hands guide you toward the edge of the bed, movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every moment.

You step back until your legs meet the bed, and you sink down, pulling him with you. The mattress dips under you, and a quiet laugh slips from your lips as Harvey’s arm wraps around your waist, steadying you both. His laughter joins yours before he kisses you again.

He leans down, pressing a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your collarbone, each touch making your pulse race faster.

Every touch, every look is unhurried, filled with understanding that neither of you has to rush; there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Harvey's body pressed into yours, the warmth between you making everything else fade away. His lips find your neck again, kissing and nibbling with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch. You tilt your head back, giving him more access as his hands roam to your back, trailing over your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

His lips move lower, brushing across your collarbone and down toward your chest. You feel his breath against your skin, the heat of him making your heart race faster. His hands gently guide you to lie back, following the curve of your body, as he peppers soft kisses along your ribs, your stomach, each kiss slow, deliberate, as if he wants to memorize every inch of you.

You let out a soft sigh, fingers running through his hair, urging him closer as his lips continue their path lower. Your breath catches when his lips brush just above your stomach, the sensation making your body tremble beneath him. Harvey pauses for a moment, lifting his head, his eyes meeting yours.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, before kissing his way back up, his lips finding yours again in a searing kiss.

Harvey's hands slide over your body with a slow, deliberate touch, each movement sending a jolt of warmth through you. His lips follow the trail of his fingers, pressing gentle, hungry kisses against your neck, your collarbone-lingering on the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

"God, you're incredible," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. You shiver at the praise, the way his breath feels against your skin.

Your hands find their way to his body, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with your own hurried breaths. His lips are back on your skin, kissing and teasing their way down.

His hands slide down your sides, fingers brushing the edges of your body.

"Harvey," you gasp, pulling him closer, your fingers threading through his hair, your body arching into his. "Please..."

His eyes lock onto yours. "I need you to know how much l've wanted this," he says. "You're everything l've been trying not to want."

His lips press firmly against yours, stealing your breath as his hands move to the small of your back, pulling you impossibly close, as if there's no room left for anything but the two of you.

You run your hands down the length of his back, feeling the heat of his body.

You're breathless now, your heart racing as you let your hands slide down his chest, fingertips brushing the hard muscles beneath his skin. "You have me," you whisper, your voice a little shaky, but full of conviction. "And I don't think you'll ever be able to walk away from that, Harvey."

His lips crash back onto yours in a heated kiss, one that leaves you breathless and dizzy. His hands move to your waist, lifting you effortlessly and laying you back on the bed. Every movement between you is slow, deliberate, like he's savoring every moment, every kiss.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N," he murmurs against your lips. "Not now. Not ever."

You instinctively tilt your head up to kiss him, but he pulls back, leaving just enough space to make you ache for more.

"Do you really want me, Y/N?" he asks you.

Your grip on his neck tightens as you whisper softly. "You have no idea," you reply.

He laughs softly. "Good," he says , pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back once more. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

You pout.

"So impatient, angel..." he teases, glancing at you. "I thought you liked taking things slow."

"Harvey... Please..." you whisper.

He smiles and kisses your soft lips again, this time more gentle and slow.

"Are you sure you want this, Y/N?"

"You... you don't know how much I needed you all this time."

He stood just inches away, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that could break through steel.

“You know,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper but deep enough to send a shiver down your spine, “I’ve won a hundred cases, closed deals worth billions, and walked into rooms knowing I’d come out on top.”

He paused, exhaling slowly.

“But standing here with you—right now—it’s the first time I’ve felt afraid. Not afraid to lose, but afraid of what it means to finally win. To finally have you."

He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, igniting a spark that seemed to fill the entire room. “Because with you, it’s never been a game. It’s everything.”

For a moment, the only sound was the slow, rhythmic beat of your hearts.

And then, you wrapped your arms around him and kissed him.

He takes of your skirt and throws it across the room as you undo his belt and take off his pants.

You take off your own underwear as he does the same. You look down and damn, he was big.

"Y/N..." he whispers your name before kissing you hungrily.

"I know..." you bite his bottom lip.

He looks at you with those beautiful brown eyes and slowly enters inside you.

You both moan at the sensation and you wrap his legs around his waist.

"Oh, fuck..." he lets out a soft whimper. "You're so tight," he kisses you.

You smile and lift your hips slowly. He starts to push his cock into your pussy, stretching you out like no one ever could.

You moan at the feeling of him inside you. Gosh, how much you waited for this. How much you imagined this, daydreaming about it. But it was so, so much better.

He adds two of his fingers on your clit as he continues to push in and out of you.

"Deeper," you manage to say in between moans.

"Princess..." he kisses your neck, biting your soft skin. "I..." he smiles.

"Yes, baby boy?" you praise him.

And well, you didn't know that was one of his weak spots. But you sure discovered that when he pushed deeper into you, squeezing the pillow behind your head.

He trembles slowly and kisses your lips.

"What did you say?" he teases you.

You bite your lips as you smile. "Baby boy?"

"Mhm..." he kisses you, passionately and hungrily.

"Fuck, Harvey..." you moan louder. "I'm close."

"Me too, baby, me too." he bit your bottom lip.

As he pushed inside your wet pussy, you came, trembling.

"Harvey!" you scream his name in pleasure.

"Yes, that's it. Come on, baby," he doesn't stop. "Fuck, I'm coming too."

He closed his eyes and let out a soft moan as he came inside you, his warm cum filling you up.

He kissed you before he collapsed beside you.

You lay against Harvey, your head resting on his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing slowly bringing you both back to reality.

Harvey’s hand, warm and steady, was lightly grazing your back, his fingers drawing gentle patterns along your skin. His thumb brushed over the curve of your spine, the touch soothing and tender.

“Love..." Harvey murmured, his voice low and soft. "Are you okay?”

You nodded against his chest, feeling his muscles flex as his arm tightened slightly around you, pulling you a little closer. “Yeah,” you whispered back. “Just… you’re good at that.”

He chuckled, but there was no smugness in it, only warmth. “I know,” he replied, teasing just a bit. “But seriously, I want to make sure you’re okay. Anything that you need, my princess?"

His hand moved to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your skin with tenderness.

“I’m good,” you said, meeting his eyes with a smile. “Better than good, actually.”

Harvey grinned, and for a second, it was as if you saw a hint of something more vulnerable behind those sharp, dark eyes. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for just a moment before pulling you even closer.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection.

You felt your heart soften at his words. It was rare for him to be this open, to be this tender, but in that moment, it felt right. You shifted to look up at him, smiling.

“Do you mean that?” you asked, your voice quiet but full of sincerity.

He met your gaze with an intensity that matched the depth of his feelings. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

You could feel the security in his words, the comfort in his touch. Harvey Specter, always the man who seemed to have everything under control, had a way of making you feel cared for in a way that only he could.

After a few moments of quiet, you sighed contentedly, snuggling even closer. Harvey shifted beneath you, adjusting so that your head was resting more comfortably against his chest. He kissed the top of your head, and for the first time that night, you both just relaxed, letting the peace of the moment wash over you.

He leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep. The kiss was different this time—gentler, filled with more meaning than anything physical. It was a kiss of assurance, of love, of something real.

You hummed, a small, content sound escaping your lips as your body surrendered to the warmth and comfort. The next thing you knew, your breathing had evened out, your mind had quieted, and you were drifting into sleep.

But just as you were about to slip fully into dreamland, you heard Harvey’s voice again—so soft, so tender, it made your heart skip a beat.

“I love you, angel,” he whispered, his words meant only for you, his breath warm against your skin. “More than you’ll ever know.”

And with that promise, you closed your eyes, your body finally settling into the safe haven of his arms.

[starillusion13]

FRIENDS!? Chapter 4

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳

M.Masterlist Series ML

▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️

Pairing: poly!ateez × f!reader (An ATEEZ Office AU)

Genre: Mature, Angst, Yandere, SMUT

Warning: The upcoming events in the story will contain themes like stalking, violence, obsession, manipulation, possessive behaviour and restraining acts. Do not kill me for not warning you. This is an Yandere story so you are well aware of what to expect more. For SMUT I WILL GIVE THE WARNING IN THE BEGINNING. (In this chapter, two Ateez members being harsh(?) to mc.)

W.C: 3.4K+

For my beloved: @oreharuuu

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

[Reblogs and Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you you for reading and have a nice day ahead. Please always take care of yourself everyone.]

Hello, Can we be friends please?

*under the cue*

“Welcome on the first day as an intern to BBO, The great Blue Bird Organization. “

You chuckle on the dramatic greetings from your supposed to be one of the bosses. He is standing in the middle of the pathway leading to the main entrance of the building from where the view of the building is perfect and the sun rays hitting the glass walls, reflecting luxury and high status of the environment. Your eyes shine when you see the logo of the company of a blue bird sitting on top of the pirate ship and the name displayed underneath it with black and orange mixtures of colour. You wonder for a while what does that blue bird even refer to. Your focus averted to the flower bouquet offered in front of you.

“This is for you, cupcake.”

“Thanks, Wooyoung. Well, you know I want to know why do you keep calling me this name. Is this the nickname you gave me when we were friends?”

“…yes...Do you not like it?”

“Of course, I like it. Also, we should head inside. I have to learn a lot about my work on my first day so it’s better not to be late.”

Nodding to your words, he leads your way inside the building. The guard doesn’t block your way today rather bows and greet you with a soft ‘Good morning’ to which you reply back with a smile. Wooyoung still holding your hand introduces you to some employees who were gathered in a group, faces all focused on the ongoing discussion. When he approached them, they quickly turn to him and greeted him and also, they welcome you on your first day. You are feeling so comfortable and welcomed to this new place as if you are meant to be in this office in the first place. As some people are giving you smiles and greetings and then there some with curious eyes and whispers. Honestly, you don’t mind all these because you would have done the same if the boss of a huge company treated a new intern so nicely in front of you. You are already familiar with the different desks and rooms in the first floor and you don’t have any works here unless any boss tells you for a particular stuff from there. This floor has the wide area with the reception place for queries and a waiting area two stairs above platform with sofas and different indoor plants with a great outside view through the grand glass windows and you can see people already waiting for their personal reasons. To the end of that corner is a room for employees to discuss over some private meetings with the customers and beside that room is a public washroom. And while on the other side of the reception, at the very end corner of the area is the different rooms for the grade D employees and to exact side of the reception desk is the elevator and the escalator. The escalators are basically used by employees and the lift is for bosses.

Just like the first day, you are going go to the eighth floor with him and when the elevator ‘ding’ announcing you the arrival to the desired floor, your heart picks up the race. You get remind of all the intense gazes from the bosses all together flashing back to you. Shaking of your thoughts, you try to keep your formal and cool composure even though your mind screaming to hide somewhere, ‘you are not yet prepared to meet all of them again.’ but here you are standing in front of that very familiar door from the first day. Similarly, like Yeosang, Wooyoung types out some passcode and scans the ID.

As soon as you stepped inside, Wooyoung clears his throat and your eyes land on the men spread all across the room. Seonghwa and Hongjoong at their usual desk with Jongho sitting at opposite to them, maybe they were in some discussions but now all three have their eyes on you with welcoming smiles. Hongjoong looks the happiest one on your arrival and he also stands on his feet to walk towards you. Reaching near you, he pats your head, “Did you make it here alright?”

You nodded on his words, “Thank you for asking, Hongjoong.”

He feels satisfied with you finally calling him by his name and not using those ‘sir’ with a bestfriend, well blame it on Jongho who insisted to call them like that in the first place. You can feel stares on you and when you look towards the other direction, you can find the others are already looking back at you but somehow the atmosphere is different in this corner.

‘Are they not happy with you being here?’

San as like the previous day is leaning against the bookshelf with glasses on and staring darkly and you can’t decipher the expression, well it’s not a major concern for you because the next two persons who are just a few feet away from him are the reason for why you suddenly gulp a lump. ‘What have I done to these two?’

“Yeosang and Yunho. Come on, don’t scare our precious girl. Be nice to her on the first day.”

Thanks to Mingi to divert your attention from them. You don’t even know why you were looking at them so long when they just look like are about to launch at you. Anyways, you return back the smile to him to which Mingi nods his head and turns back his focus on the papers laid in front of him. Your curious eyes precisely scan the papers but a soft hand on your shoulder breaks your trance. Looking towards the person, Wooyoung just greets you with a soft look on his face.

“Come Y/n. Sit here.”

Seonghwa gestures you to sit in front of him beside Jongho and you with a gentle smile, step forward to the chair. The rest of them return to their previous action. They want to just leave their work aside and sit with you to spend time talking with you but their works need to be done and they atleast need to be professional on your first day. Atleast for now. They can’t just let their beast out and scare you. They are trying their best to fight their inner self and be a gentle self of them in front of you.

“So, have you got the schedule?”

“Yes, Wooyoung has given me earlier and some of you have meeting in two hours. Let me check it again.”

You turn on the I-pad and select the desired schedule tab and go through it quickly. You know Hongjoong and Seonghwa are eagerly waiting for your response. After scanning the list twice, you nod to yourself and look back at them.

“So, Seonghwa you are having a meeting along with Mingi at 12:30 with The Dune Enterprise and also you will have the lunch time with them as you are going to discuss about the upcoming field project.”

Seonghwa nods and stands up to go towards the mirror situated in the corner. You haven’t noticed that mirror before but it’s okay as you were so tensed last time when you were being here. Hongjoong who is leaning to the desk beside you gestures you to keep going.

“Jongho has a conference to attend after the lunch and before that you need to have the employees altogether to discuss about the topic that will be presented.”

You watch how he glances to his watch and puts out his phone to dial someone. The next name makes you a bit sad because you don’t want to lose his company so soon on the very first day but you cant be like this now, so shaking your thoughts away, you start speaking.

“Woo, you need to be in the fifteenth-floor cabin as you will be attending the interviews of the selected candidates.”

“Woo?”

“Hm?”

“You called him Woo? Or am I just hearing things?”

Hongjoong’s words click in your mind that your tongue slips with his nickname you started calling since earlier because the comfort and friendliness you are getting from him. To your confused and scared face, he laughs at you and pats your head.

“Don’t worry! I’m not scolding you. It’s just nice to hear you calling him in such a friendly way and getting along with each other.” You smile at him and again he adds, “Wooyoung, let me go along with you as I need to have some overview for some details.”

You cast a glance towards the fancy digital clock in the room and notice how almost two hours have been passed with your arrival and greetings and discussions about their schedules. You notice that the names you have called earlier are beginning to move out of the room and then when your panic starts picking up. Why not? If those five are going to leave then you are being left alone with the three devils. The ones about whom you have complained to Beomgyu so much and he had just laughed it off with calling you a ‘scaredy cat’.

‘If only he was here to face them then only, he could know my feelings.’

“Are you all leaving now?”

“As per the schedule, we have been told to be in our designated places by now. Why, do you need something?”

Everybody stops on their tracks on hearing him. Mingi just innocently blinks and recalling if he asked you something wrong. But when he follows their eyes, they are trailing on you and asking silently for your needs. They can bring anything to your foot at the time and can do anything even cancelling their schedules just to listen to you. Feeling so much attention on you, you feel overwhelmed. Somehow, you feel their gazes to have the comfort of a home, a safe place and as if those are screaming some missing pieces of your life from past but you are trying to ignore them. It can’t be. Even if they are your friends, they were nothing more than that, you guys were nothing except maybe classmates or used to hang out together after classes.

Your main question is ‘why don’t you remember then?’

Now they are complete strangers to you but somehow in the corner of your mind, you still feel something you are missing out with them. You look towards Wooyoung, who calls you with the nickname and you are not complaining to it, these three days talking to him and also during the text messages, you feel so comfortable with him. Then your eyes move towards Mingi who is eagerly waiting for you to voice out your problem.

“No. Um…have a great day ahead all of you.”

They smile to your little attempt to cheer them up for the day and step out of the room. Well, God should show you some mercy or let the ground engulf you. Wait, I’m on eighth floor so no ground but you are going to fall on the next floor. How unfortunate for you to be left alone with them even on the first day! Atleast you should have got some days to adjust to this new place and then maybe you could have expected a day like this.

“Are you going to daydream about your boyfriend standing there?”

Your lost eyes which were still staring at the closed metal door move towards the voice. The tall man with folded hands above his chest standing few feet away staring straight at you with an annoyed expression.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Lies. Are you just going to lie on your first day here?”

“What? I’m not lying, honestly.”

“Well, that’s not the information I got from your university. I heard how you were in relationship with a guy named ‘Mark’ in freshman year and Beomgyu made you break up with him because he was toxic for you. So, this second guy is your present boyfriend, I presume.”

“No. He is my bestfriend.”

He makes ‘tsch’ sound to which a frown appears on your face as why there is so much problem for him to believe your words. Also, it’s not his concern if you are being in relation with your friend or not. You are his past bestfriend and present employee at his office.

“Always sticking to each other like a glue and him being all possessive over you doesn’t suit the bestfriend term.”

“Well, a true bestfriend suit him the most then.”

“What do you mean?”

His glaring eyes and stomping of his feet come closer to you but you didn’t flinch on his sudden action but confidently looking up into his eyes to reply him back.

“A true bestfriend will always look after their friend in every matter and not letting them to disappear from their eyes as far as possible. Who will always stay beside you to say that ‘It’s okay, I’m here for you.’ I’m glad to get him during my highschool.”

You take a deep breath before continuing. He opens his mouth to speak but your hand gestures him to be quiet and surprisingly, your daring eyes and stern gestures made him silent and he didn’t even try to fight it back.

“Also, you are just my boss here so it’s not your concern to know about your employee’s certain personal life matters. I’m your secretary here and even if we were friends doesn’t mean I will let you to invade in my personal information.”

“Well well well. You have become so feisty after growing up. Even last day, you were so shy and scared little Y/N same as from those days.”

Yeosang approaches with clapping his hands and that heavy voice spreading goosebumps on your skin as you can suddenly recall about the day how he shouted on you.

Yunho is still staring at you but his eyes are soft, not having that rage from before but somehow those are still stinging with the rising fire behind the soft façade. Somehow, you praising another male in front of him is not setting right and he won’t be letting this slide easily. He wants to be the reason for the praises you are showering on someone else, he wants to be the one on whom you can rely during your problems but never in a while he wants to be the one to be considered by you as just a boss. He cant be just a boss to you.

“Don’t bring up that past everytime when you are going to be like this, Yeosang.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, so don’t you remember how you shouted on me the last day you were here? I just wanted to have some time to take a proper decision but your impatience just kicked out. Look, I know you all are happy to get your lost friend back and am happy as well knowing that there were some friends out here waiting for me but it doesn’t mean you will treat me as your doll under your control.”

“Doll……”

“Yes, that’s how you want me to be.”

“Doll…...” he pauses for a second, “you remember this name?”

“huh?”

“Starting from today, you cant have any relationship with anyone. This is the first rule for you being our secretary.”

Since the first day you met this guy, his tendency is not to complete any sentence and keep you in confusion.

“Are you serious?”

“Very much.”

“What nonsense is this?”

“I can arrange for an official printed rules and regulation for you if you want, Miss Y/N.” You peek to San over Yeosang’s shoulder, who is standing beside you similarly the way Yunho is towering you in front. You are feeling cornered and under some sort of interrogation. San is sitting on the sofa with a laptop on his lap but he is smirking at you after offering you a not-so-lovely arrangement.

Yunho got a call and without glancing anywhere else but you, fishes out the phone and presses to his ears. “Hello.” His tone is harsh as if the person on other side of the call is interrupting some important business of his or he is least interested to have a talk with them, either way, you just have to face his burning self.

“I don’t care about his fucking offer.”

Now Why do I feel like he is talking to me? You try to avert your eyes everywhere but him and this is not to his accord. He is not liking the loss of your focus on him so suddenly he grabs your chin and moves you face facing him. Your eyes go wide and mouth forms an ‘o’ shape.

“What are you doing?” you merely whisper but Yeosang from your side shush you and leans forward to whisper in your ears.

“You don’t want to disturb his call and make him mad. Right?”

You deny quickly with moving your head sideways to which he gives you a satisfactory smile and pats your head before resting his hand on your lower back. Your eyes again found Yunho’s and you can see the tensed jaws and veins popping on his forehead. He must be really angry.

Your already shaking eyes go wide when he mouths the next thing to you, ‘If this person don’t cut the call in next five seconds, then I’m going to kiss you.’

And again he goes back to the call.

Five.

His fingers brush your lips softly and lingering over there.

Four.

He leans forward.

Three.

“I said, I don’t want.” he replies to the phone but still maintaining the eye contact with you.

Two.

You can feel his breathe fanning over your lips and you close your eyes and lean backward but Yeosang’s hand keeps you in place.

“Yunho. Step back.”

One. ‘phew’

A great thanks to Hongjoong who suddenly entered the scene with the two of them cornering you near the main desk and San enjoying the drama unfolding in front of him, abandoning his work. The eldest has the annoyed expression on his face and harshly pulled Yunho back and he cuts the call.

“Who was on the call Yunho and what were you trying to do?”

“That bullshit company.” He replies and looks at you smirkingly.

“Y/N. Are you okay?” Hongjoong asks you.

“Hm. I just need to use the washroom.”

He nods and without wasting a second, you excuse yourself but before leaving, Yeosang grabs your hand and the way he is looking at you, you can tell that he is trying to say something to you. But what? I want to listen to you but you are scaring me everytime. You shake your hand off from his hold and left the room.

As soon as you made into the hallway, you let out a deep breathe and tug your hairs behind your ears. Quickly, fishing out the phone from your pocket, you dial the last number and hoping the person to pick up while making your way towards the washroom. On your way, you bump into someone but formally, you with a politeness let the person go. The person must be in hurry like you. The call is not answered and mentally, you made a note.

‘The first two persons whom I’m going to add to my friends list is Wooyoung and Hongjoong and I have to know everything about them. How were we before?’

You smile to your own thoughts and go inside the washroom.

“What was that, Yunho?”

“What? You just interrupted an interesting part.”

Hongjoong just glared back, not liking the reply from him.

“You both were letting him do that to her?”

They laughed on his words and San proudly nodded.

“Yeah. It was a nice show to be honest. If I were you, I would have waited for one more second.”

Hongjoong banged his fist on the desk catching all of three attention. The atmosphere of the room died down and covered with a thick silence.

“ let’s not forget, she is a different person now since the high school. We are not same as before. And you three are going to behave before we find out what happened in that past.”

Their smile disappeared and their heads uncontrollably nodded on his words. Afterall, he is the leader of the company and they are bound to listen to his orders.

Why are they so eager to know about her? Who are you to them? Friends right? Or something more than that? Who are they actually?

They are not lying to you. Right?

Next

Taglist :

@mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @anyamaris @yeoobin @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @brrrkdslek-main @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @luhwaine @ilove-taeyong @dinonuguaegi @endeav0rsb1tch @loveforred @eriny123 @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon

(open! dm me/ send ask/reply here)

[bayoubashsims]

The Sleepy Shores Retirement Home

Figured I wanted a huge retirement home in Monkfish Bay that's a little bit depressing but is actually pretty cool. The house contains 16 standard bedrooms and 4 luxury bedrooms for the elders, and a small apartment for 4 members of overnight staff. It's still in progress, but this is the stuff I have done so far.

Firstly the exterior. Note the bingo sign that I might turn into Simlish soon lol

The front porch and the swimming pool outback.

The reception desk and the front lounge, where the residents often fall asleep in. Turn left and you can visit the administrator's office.

The main foyer, with access to the second floor and the staff desk. You can choose the stairs and the stairlift, or the elevator!

The dining hall and the kitchen is just directly in front of the staircase.

Turn down the hallway and you'll be in the game room. Chess, Monopoly, Scrabble, mahjong, cards, or just good old conversation!

Down further the hallway will take you to the infirmary ward, where there's an exam room and a sick bed for two people.

The standard bedroom and bathroom. The elders don't need too much space, and I decided to give them single rooms for more privacy even though I could make them have roomies, but I'm gonna reserve that for the luxury rooms.

Upstairs you can go to the physical therapy ward, where there's a room for tai chi and dance classes and another room for gym equipments. Or for something less strenuous, pingpong at the upstairs veranda!

[minhoskofi]

u want more?

pairing: bestfriend!byounggon x bestfriend!fem!reader genre: non-idol!au, smut (minors dni!), some fluff warnings: grinding, teasing, edging, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), fingering, “baby”, "love", choking, unprotected sex, begging, use of "fuck", marking (hickeys) word count: 3.2k

As the evening sun cast a warm glow through the windows of Byounggon's cozy flat, you slumped onto his couch, clutching a tub of ice cream like it was your lifeline.

Byounggon, your ever-reliable best friend, observed your disheveled appearance with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation.

"Again?" he murmured, shaking his head as he handed you a tissue to wipe away your tears.

You chuckled humorlessly, your voice muffled by the ice cream. "Yeah, again. I swear I have the worst taste in men."

Byounggon's eyes softened as he watched you devour the ice cream, a pang of protectiveness swelling in his chest. He had seen you go through countless heartbreaks, each time picking up the pieces of your shattered heart with unwavering resilience. And each time, he wished he could shield you from the pain.

"Maybe it's time for a change of scenery," he suggested, a spark of spontaneity igniting in his eyes. "How about we escape for a while? Just you and me, away from all this mess."

You raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in your eyes. "Are you suggesting a getaway or a pity party?"

Byounggon grinned, his dimples deepening. "A little bit of both, maybe. But mostly a chance for you to recharge and have some fun."

You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the thought of spending time with Byounggon.

"Alright, you're on," you agreed, a small smile playing on your lips. "But you're paying for everything, got it?"

Byounggon rolled his eyes playfully. "Of course. Consider this my treat for having to put up with your ugly crying face all these years."

You swatted his arm playfully, unable to suppress your laughter at his teasing. "Come here," you ordered, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

“Come where?”

You savored the last spoonful of ice cream, letting out a contented sigh as you set the empty tub aside. You patted the empty space next to you on the couch. “Here. Cuddles. Now.”

A faint blush crept onto Byounggon's cheeks, his heart fluttering nervously at your request. Lately, he couldn't deny the growing… warmth he felt whenever he was close to you, the way his heart seemed to skip a beat whenever your laughter filled the room.

"So clingy," he retorted, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions swirling within him as he settled onto the couch beside you.

You snuggled up against him, resting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you tentatively, the scent of your hair filling his senses. His heart hammered in his chest as he resisted the urge to bury his face in the crook of your neck, to hold you close and never let go.

As you drifted off to sleep in his comforting embrace, Byounggon watched over you with an unusual tenderness. He couldn't tear his gaze away from your peaceful face, illuminated by the soft glow of the evening light filtering through the window.

But as time passed, he began to feel the uncomfortable numbness creeping into his arm. Despite his reluctance to disturb your rest, he knew he couldn't bear it much longer.

He eased himself out from beneath you and gently scooped you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he made his way to his bedroom.

Laying you down on the bed with the utmost care, he tucked the blankets around you snugly, ensuring you were comfortable before tucking a stray strand of hair away from your face.

As you stepped into the luxurious lobby of the hotel, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of its opulent beauty. “You can’t possibly afford this,” you breathed, turning to Byounggon with wide eyes. 

“Already did,” he bit back.

As you approached the reception desk to check in, the hotel staff greeted you warmly… and then apologized profusely. 

Shit.

They explained that there had been a mix-up with the reservations. The last double bed room had been already booked, and they were left with only one room available, with a shared bed. 

A surprise for no one.

You exchanged a hesitant glance with Byounggon, unsure of how to proceed. “I told you to book beforehand.” 

Sharing a bed with your best friend shouldn't be a big deal, right?

Byounggon, ever the picture of composure, simply shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Looks like we're bunking together, partner. Hope you don't snore."

As the first light of dawn filtered through the hotel room’s curtains, you found yourself stirring from a fitful sleep. 

Your limbs were tangled in the blankets.

A distinct lack of warmth enveloping you.

With a groan, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and turned to Byounggon, who was blissfully unaware of your growing irritation as he slept soundly beside you.

"Seriously, Gon?" you grumbled, poking him gently in the side. "You moved so much last night, I swear, I felt like I was in the middle of a wrestling match."

Byounggon let out a soft snore in response, his arm flopping lazily onto your side of the bed, effectively stealing even more of the blankets in the process. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, tugging futilely at the fabric in an attempt to reclaim your share.

"And don't even get me started on the snoring," you continued, "I could've just rented you out as a white noise machine."

Byounggon let out a snort in his sleep, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he shifted slightly, sending a sharp jab of pain shooting through your side where he had inadvertently elbowed you.

"Ow!" you exclaimed, shooting him a mock accusatory glare. "Are you doing this on purpose now?"

He was completely unfazed by your complaints.

With a huff of frustration, you grabbed your pillow and began to mercilessly pummel him with it, determined to rouse him from his deep sleep.

"Lee Byounggon! Wake! The fuck! Up!" you exclaimed, landing a harder blow with the pillow. "I can't take it anymore! You're snoring like a chainsaw, stole all the blankets, and now I'm starving!"

Byounggon stirred groggily, blinking owlishly, "Huh? What's going on?" he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm hungry!" you whined, launching another assault with the pillow for good measure. "And I can't sleep with all your tossing and turning. It's like trying to sleep on a roller coaster!"

Byounggon let out a sheepish chuckle, finally fully awake as he sat up in bed, the blankets pooling around his waist. "Sorry about that."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His hair tousled from sleep and eyes still heavy with drowsiness, he looked effortlessly adorable and undeniably attractive at the same time. The sight caused a flutter in your chest, and you couldn't help but feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

Snorting softly, you quickly tried to compose yourself, mentally chiding your traitorous heart for its sudden fluttering. You busied yourself with the excuse of fixing his hair, reaching out to gently run your fingers through the unruly locks, attempting to smooth them down.

"Uh, your hair's a bit of a mess," you mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant despite the warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Let me fix it for you."

“You're one to talk. You look like you just rolled out of bed yourself."

You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance, though the teasing glint in his eyes only served to deepen your blush. "At least I'm not the one who snores like a bear."

Byounggon chuckled, leaning into your touch as you continued to smooth down his hair. "Fair."

As you sat at the edge of the hotel’s pool, dipping your toes into the cool water, a sense of tranquility washed over you. 

Beside you, Byounggon crouched down, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in close. "Hey, I've been meaning to tell you something," he teased.

You raised an eyebrow, curious as to what he had up his sleeve. But before you could respond, he pushed you into the water with a playful shove, sending you splashing into the pool with a yelp of surprise.

Determined to get back at him, you didn't immediately swim to the surface but watched as Byounggon treaded water, clearly worried that he had gone too far. 

After a few seconds, he dove into the water, swimming towards you with a serious expression.

He grabbed you from underwater, pulling you into a tight embrace and wrapping your legs around his waist. "For fuck’s sake, don't scare me like that, you idiot," he scolded gently, his voice soft with concern. "I thought I hurt you.” 

You felt his heart racing against your chest as he scolded you.

The warmth of his touch seeped into your skin as you pressed closer to him. And as you found yourself between him and the pool’s walls, his body pressed close against yours, you couldn't ignore the sudden awareness of the closeness between you.

The way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the feel of his wet skin against yours, the way his arms held you securely - it all sent a shiver down your spine. 

As you returned to the hotel room, the exhaustion of all the swimming settled in, and you couldn't help but feel the overwhelming urge to just collapse onto the bed and succumb to the pull of sleep. 

"Hell, no. Be for real now," Byounggon was towel-drying his hair as he paced back and forth in the room before plopping on the bed. "We can't just waste the day sleeping! There's so much to see and do - waterfalls, hiking trails, beautiful beaches. We can't miss out on all of that!"

You let out an exasperated sigh, flopping onto the bed with a tired groan. "But I'm exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a week. And besides, isn't the whole point of a vacation to relax and recharge?"

You continued to bicker back and forth, each stubbornly clinging to your own viewpoint, until you couldn't take it anymore. 

Straddling Byounggon, you leaned in close, trying to persuade him with your most convincing arguments.

"Come on, Goni," you pleaded, your hands resting on his shoulders as you looked into his eyes with determination. "Let's just stay in for now, order some room service, and go for dinner later. We can explore tomorrow when we're feeling more refreshed."

But as you spoke, you failed to notice the shift in his demeanor - the way his breath hitched slightly, the way his eyes darkened with lust. And as you leaned in closer, trying to sway him with the warmth of your proximity, Byounggon's hands found their way to your hips, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. 

Byounggon couldn't help but stare at you. He had always found you beautiful, but he had never told you that. He didn't want to risk ruining the friendship. But seeing you on top of him like this, talking about your vacation plans and whatnot - it was too much for him to handle.

He tried to focus on whatever you were saying, but his mind was elsewhere. Down in his pants, to be exact, where he was getting extremely turned on by the feeling of your body pressed against his.

As you continued to ramble on, Byounggon's thoughts were consumed with images of the things he wished he’d do to you. 

Running his hands through your hair. 

Kissing your lips.

Holding you close. 

Fucking you silly.

“Hey! Are you even listening to me?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face.

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at you, trying to hide the bulge in his pants. “No, not really, no. I’ve told you not to do this”, he replied, his voice slightly strained.

You raised an eyebrow, confused “Do what? What's wrong? You’re being weird,” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

Byounggon took a deep breath and decided to take a chance.

He gently grabbed your hips,

“This…”,

then pressed you hard against his growing erection,

“is what's wrong." his voice was lower than what you were used to.

"You've been sitting on top of me for the past few minutes and I can't focus on anything but this,” he confessed, looking into your eyes.

Your eyes widened in shock as you felt his hard member pressing against you. 

You had never noticed how much your own best friend turned you on, or you him.

After a moment of silence, Byounggon broke the tension, “I know. I shouldn't have done tha-”

You shushed him, placing a finger on his lips, “It's fine. We're both adults. And besides, i-it's just a natural reaction.”

You couldn't believe what you were saying, but the way your body was responding to his touch was too much to ignore. So, you did a test roll of your hips against his lap, causing him to suck in a breath.

“Don’t play with me.”, he warned.

But you kept grinding against him, feeling the heat building between you. Byounggon's hand wrapped around your neck, pulling you in closer. Your heart raced as you felt his breath on your lips, the anticipation almost unbearable.

You parted your lips slightly, inviting him to close the distance, but he hesitated. 

You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between desire and the fear of crossing a line with his best friend.

But you weren't about to let him pull away. You leaned in closer, your lips hovering just inches from his, silently urging him to take the leap.

"Goni," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "Don't overthink. Just go for it."

He hesitated for a moment longer, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty. But all he found was a fierce determination, a longing that mirrored his own.

And then, finally, he closed the distance between you. His lips met yours in a hesitant but passionate kiss.

It was intoxicating, filled with years of pent-up feelings and passion. You couldn't control the moan that escaped from your mouth as you ground your hips against Byounggon's, causing him to grip your waist tightly.

Breaking the kiss, you trailed wet ones along his jawline, your hands moving eagerly to rid him of his shirt, fingers tracing the contours of his chest. You tugged at the fabric, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside, your own following it soon after. 

Feeling emboldened, Byounggon leaned back, pulling you onto his chest as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

His hands roamed over your body, sending more shivers down your spine. You arched your back, unable to get enough of him as you pressed your body against his, feeling every inch of his skin.

You slipped a hand under Byounggon's waistband, your fingers grazing his throbbing length.

Byounggon pulled away from the kiss, panting heavily. “Are you sure you want to do this?”  

“I want it. And I'm sure,” you replied, your hand now firmly gripping him.

That was all the confirmation Byounggon needed. He flipped you on your back, moving lower, biting and sucking on the skin of your neck, leaving marks, pressing kisses along your collarbone before reaching your breasts. 

He looked up at you. A lustful spark in his eyes. Then took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing, causing you to arch your back, letting out a soft moan.

Your hips bucked against his hand as he slipped his fingers under the waistband of your panties, flicking his fingers over your clit.

Your moans grew louder as Byounggon removed them and spread your legs apart. He took a moment to admire you before leaning down and lightly licking your slit. 

Your fingers tightened in his hair as he continued to tease with his tongue.

But he wasn't satisfied with just teasing you. He wanted to taste you. Fully. 

He slipped his tongue inside, lapping up your wetness and causing you to let out a strangled cry. He moved his tongue in circles, teasing your walls before flicking over your sensitive spot.

You gripped at the sheets, your body writhing with pleasure. Byounggon's mouth was working wonders on you, and you could feel your orgasm building. But before you could let go, Byounggon pulled away, earning a frustrated whimper from you.

He climbed up your body, hovering over you with a smirk. “You taste so good,” he whispered before capturing your lips in a rough kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips and it only turned you on more.

He positioned himself up at your entrance. Teasing was, apparently, his thing. He slid only the head of his cock in and out, watching your reactions.

You moaned in frustration, “Please, just fuck me already.”

But he continued to slide just the tip in and out, watching as your eyes rolled back in pleasure, “And if I just continue teasing you like this?”

"Fuck, please, for fuck's sake!" you breathed, craving him like your lungs craved oxygen.

After what seemed like an eternity, Byounggon finally pushed himself inside you, filling you completely. You both let out a moan, as he slowly moved in and out, savoring just how tight and wet you were for him.

He couldn't resist teasing you a little more, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in. Your moans grew louder with each thrust, nails digging into Byounggon's back.

Finally, unable to hold back any longer, he picked up the pace and pounded into you, thrusting in and out with a force that made you gasp. 

He pulled back before plunging back in, setting a fast and rough pace. And as your moans filled the room, Byounggon couldn't resist wrapping his hand around your throat, choking you just enough to bring you to the edge again.

“Fuck, don’t stop.” You cried out as you reached your peak, your walls clenching around him.

“I’m not intending on stopping, love.”

He continued to pound into you, his pace quickening as he chased his own release.Your legs were shaking and your voice had turned hoarse from screaming, but you really didn't want him to stop. You wanted more.

“Please,” you begged, your voice barely audible.

He lifted your leg and placed it on his shoulder, allowing him to penetrate even deeper, spreading you wider, plunging back inside. Harder.

“You want more, baby?” Byounggon growled, his hips slamming against yours with each thrust. "Hm?"

You only nodded, your head spinning from the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your body.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a hungry kiss, his hand reaching between your legs to rub your sensitive clit. Your moans were muffled by his mouth.

Byounggon could feel you getting close again and he wasn't far behind. He quickened his pace, his own moans joining yours. Your body tensed and you screamed out his name as you came, your walls milking him for all he was worth.

He collapsed on top of you, panting and covered in sweat. Byounggon wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, kissing your forehead.

“Best friends. Right?” Byounggon whispered with a smile.

“Oh, fuck you, Gon!” you laughed.

“Bet I did.”

a/n: this fanfic is purely fictional and solely for fun. the character(s) mentioned do not represent in any form or way the celebrity/ies, but merely using their name(s) and appearance! do not translate or repost. all rights reserved /© minhoskofi/