#6 person hot tubs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gothcsz · 2 days ago

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Summary: Your winter getaway with Javier.

Tags: alternating pov, javi is having an identity crisis, established relationship, fluff (i cringe), romance (still cringing), smut (no longer cringing), jealous!javi, oh no the triple frontier boys are here, oral (m&f), p in v sex, once again: javi is clipped, filming a sex tape, dirty porn talk, hot tub sex, pussy/dick pronouns, javi puts you in a headlock (i've been influenced by all the headlock fics also stream headlock by imogen heap), breath control play, squirting, clit stimulation, no use of y/n, reader has some vague physical descriptions (mid-sized, curvy, hair that can have fingers run through), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay thx.

A/N: happy holidays ❄️ i wanted to do something fun for the season and to thank everyone who has supported this story so far! i love you guys 🩵 as always, thank you @persephone-girl for reading over bits of this and being my emotional support hehe

You’ve barely shut the door when a loud, frustrated “Fuck!” echoes through your apartment, followed by the unmistakable clatter of things hitting the floor. Your brows knit together as you toss your keys into the bowl by the entrance and hang your bag on the back of a kitchen chair.

The sight waiting for you confirms your suspicions: your very hot, very frustrated boyfriend is pacing in the middle of the room, his broad shoulders tight with tension. Scattered across the coffee table and floor around him are puzzle pieces.

“Javi,” you say, crossing your arms as you take in the scene. “What’s going on?”

He stops mid-stride, scowling down at the pieces as though they’ve personally insulted him. “The fucking puzzle is broken,” he gestures angrily toward the mess.

You blink at him, biting back a grin. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point. You have to put it back together.” Your voice lilts with playful teasing, hoping to lighten the mood he is in.

He shoots you a look that’s equal parts annoyed and sheepish. Stepping forward, you place yourself squarely in his path, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He’s got no choice but to halt his pacing, and after a moment, his arms drop heavily around you. You can feel the frustration draining out of him like air from a balloon.

“Estoy volviéndome loco, nena.” His chest rises and falls in a heavy exhale, hands instinctively finding their place on your lower back.

You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. It’s hard not to get lost in his good looks—those dark, soulful eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hair falls perfectly so, no matter how much he’s been raking his fingers through it.

He could be pissed at the entire world, and he’d still be the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

He told you he was done with porn, and he meant it. It didn’t happen all at once, he stuck to solo work until he lost the passion for it entirely before finally cutting ties with his agent and declaring himself “retired.”

The checks will keep coming, sure, but they aren’t a permanent safety net. That left your boyfriend at a crossroads, staring down the daunting question of what came next.

“Fuck, I don’t know. What else am I even good at?”

Now, Pornstar Javier Peña is just… Javi. Without the glitz and veneer of his former life, he’s a bit of a mess, honestly. A hot mess, sure, but a mess all the same.

He spends most of his days drifting between your apartment and his place, and more often than not, it’s your bed he ends up in. Sometimes he’s sprawled on the couch, lazily surfing through the channels, other times he’s fast asleep, limbs tangled in your sheets, his brow furrowed even while dreaming.

It’s like he’s waiting for the pieces of himself to fall into place but has no idea where to start.

You have, actually, tried helping him find new interests, with mixed results.

Cooking classes? A bust—too many rules and timers for someone who likes to work off instinct. Hiking? Not his thing, and you’d barely made it halfway up the trail before he declared he needed a cold beer and a hot shower. Pottery seemed promising for about five minutes before a poorly shaped bowl sent him muttering a string of Spanish curses under his breath and he quit then and there.

It’s not that he’s… bad at these things, necessarily, but none of them feel true to him.

“Baby, you’re not going to figure out who you are overnight. It takes time,” you murmur, tilting your head up to press a kiss to the tip of his chin, the roughness of his stubble brushing against your lips.

He grumbles. “I’m impatient.”

“I noticed,” you tease, a giggle slipping out as your hands sneak under his shirt. Your fingers trail along his ribs, stroking the warm, solid muscle there. The quiet hum of satisfaction you let out isn’t for his benefit—it’s for you. He feels so damn good under your touch, like he was built to be admired.

Javier shifts slightly, straightening up as if your hands have hit a reset button on his mood. “How was your day?”

You started a new job with the camera crew on an actual film set, and it’s a sweet gig, the opportunity kind of landing in your lap out of nowhere. Someone you knew from college reached out, and the pay was too good to pass up, even if the work itself wasn’t all that different from what you’ve done on porn sets.

Less dicks and tits, but the same technical work. When you’re not on set, you’re still clinging to the comfort of your shifts at Lucky’s.

You shrug lightly, nuzzling into him. “Same as always. Nothing too exciting. But I’m glad I don’t have to work the bar tonight. Maybe I can help you with that puzzle.” You tease.

“Or…” His tone shifts so quickly it’s almost dizzying—warm and doting one second, low and sinful the next. His hands drift south, firmly gripping your ass and giving it a harsh squeeze

“Or?” you repeat, your arousal flaring.

That’s all the invitation he needs.

In no time, you find yourself naked and sprawled against the coffee table, the surface pressing into your back while scattered puzzle pieces stick to your damp skin. But none of that matters—not when Javier is between your legs, his broad shoulders holding you open like a prize only he gets to claim.

His mouth is buried in your pussy, wet and eager tongue moving with a purpose that has your thighs trembling. He laps at you expertly, each flick and thrust inside your cunt dragging whimpers out of you, your body singing under his touch.

Javier groans, the sound vibrating against your pussy. “You taste so,” kiss, “fucking,” lick, “good,” suck. Your back arches and you sob his name loudly, eyes fluttering close at how good he is at eating you out.

No matter how many times he does it, he somehow manages to surpass the time before. Men like Javier are a rare thing, and you’re annoyed at yourself for not succumbing to him earlier. You just had to prove a fucking point.

He pulls back just enough to lick and bite at your inner thigh, trying to control himself from devouring you whole, before diving back in. His hands keep you pinned to the edge of the table as you shake uncontrollably in his grasp.

Every obscene noise he makes is matched by the wet, filthy sounds of his tongue working you over and you feel the pressure winding tighter and tighter. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling as you gasp his name, and the pleased growl he gives in response sends you careening over.

He doesn’t stop, not until your body shudders and you’re left panting, your limbs heavy and boneless. When he finally lifts his head, mustache damp and lips glistening, he’s looking at you with that satisfied smirk you’ve grown accustomed to seeing.

“Fuck, I could stay down here for hours.” His voice tapers off into a groan and he doesn’t wait for a reply before pressing soft kisses along your drenched folds, letting his teeth scrape ever so lightly against your sensitive flesh. Then his tongue, broad and sinful, drags a slow, torturous stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“You could… if you wanted to,” you pant, your voice barely above a whisper as your body gears up for even more pleasure. You pull him closer, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the delicious pressure of his nose pressing against your swollen nub.

Javier lets you take what you need, his large hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady while his tongue thrusts back inside, exploring every fluttering inch. His curved nose rubs against your clit with each motion, sending you into a fucking frenzy.

You’re shameless, unabashedly humping his face, chasing the high only he can give you. And he loves it—thrives on it—his tongue relentless as it maps out every curve and crevice of your pussy. The slick, creamy mess makes it easier for you to move, his grunts and your mewling cries swirling together.

“Javi, I want to come on your cock—oh fuck!” The words tumble out before you can stop them, and his answer is a wicked nip of his teeth against your labia, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“You will, nena,” he murmurs, his voice slurred with lust as he adjusts your legs, planting your feet at the edge of the table. He spreads you open obscenely, his dark eyes gleaming as he takes in the sight of your wet pussy laid bare for him. “But first, you’re gonna come all over my tongue again. Puta madre, you’re so fucking hot.”

His tongue flicks over your pearl rapidly and your back arches off the table as euphoria courses through you. You glance down, locking eyes with him, and the pruriency in his gaze sends you tumbling over the edge.

“Javier, oh shit!” You’re left helpless against the onslaught of his mouth, gushing all over his handsome face as he keens in satisfaction.

You collapse back against the table, your body spent and your mind still buzzing. Javier wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning smugly down at you, his girthy cock hanging heavy between you, droplets of precum squirting from the slit and drizzling down the heated shaft.

Pros of dating a pornstar: He can fuck. Cons of dating a pornstar: He can fuck.

It’s like being in a constant state of delicious ruin, where your needs—both romantic and sexual—are met in ways you never thought possible.

But damn, this man knows how to wear you the fuck out.

Sometimes he gets a little too ambitious. Twisting, bending, and pulling you into positions that make you pause and remind him, between panting breaths, that you’re not as flexible as the women he’s been with before.

“Practice makes perfect, baby,” he always says with that infuriatingly charming grin, right before fucking you so thoroughly that you forget how to breathe.

This time is no different. Javier hovers over you with the kind of dominance that makes your pussy clench, his strong hands gripping your body like he owns it.

Somehow, he’s managed to maneuver you on the awkward height of the coffee table, one leg slung over his broad shoulder while keeping your opposite thigh spread wide.

Then, with a sharp thrust, his fat cock splits you open, stretching your pussy in a way that’s so brutally perfect.

The force of it knocks a loud yelp from your lips, your forearms press against the table for balance. You can’t look away from where your bodies meet, watching in filthy fascination as your sticky folds swallow him whole and spit him back out, his cock glistening with the rich evidence of how turned on you are.

“My fucking god,” he growls, words laden with desperation, “you feel better than you fucking taste.” He spits the words out, literally, a thick bead of saliva falling from his lips to land on your cunt.

Without missing a beat, his thumb moves to your clit, pressing down and swirling in tight circles.

The pressure makes your entire body tense, a strained cry of his name tearing from your throat.

Your tits bounce wildly with every rough thrust, and his dark eyes flicker between the hypnotic sway of your breasts and the lewd sight of your pussy stretched tight around his dick.

Your mouth hangs open, brows furrowed as helpless sounds spill out while his cock punches deep into that one spot that has colorful dots blotching your vision. Your toes curl as the overwhelming feeling builds, your body on the verge of complete surrender.

“Right there, baby—oh fuck me, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You sound wrecked, like you’ve been possessed by the pleasure he’s giving you. Your back falls flat against the table again, your hands reaching up to squeeze your tits, pulling at your nipples as you let him use your cunt however he wants.

He deserves it.

Loose curls fall over his face, making him look so sexy while he fucks into you with everything he’s got. His tongue pokes out in concentration, his fingertips dimpling the plush skin of your thighs as he holds you steady. The poor coffee table groans beneath the brutal rhythm, creaking with every hard snap of his hips.

It doesn’t take much more—your body seizes up as you come hard, the orgasm crashing through you so violently that you’re certain you’re going to pass out. Your pussy clamps down around his shaft, milking him for everything he’s worth.

“Fuck, take it,” he groans, his pace faltering as he spills inside you, thick ropes of cum filling your pussy until you swear you can feel it gurgling in your throat. The vicious, overwhelming sensation makes you shudder, your body twitching as his weight settles against you, his cock still buried deep inside your quivering walls.

You feel pulverized, your body humming in content, but all you can think is: God, this man could fuck me to death, and I’d die happy.

Immediately, your calf seizes, the muscle knotting painfully as a piercing cry slices through your throat. Your body jerks involuntarily, hands pressing against Javier’s chest to push him off you.

“Shit, stop— cramp!” you gasp.

Javier freezes, his face instantly morphing from focused lust to deep concern. He pulls out of you carefully, hissing at the feeling, his touch tender as he lowers your trembling leg from his shoulder. “Where? Here?” He’s already massaging the rigid knot in your calf with his strong, calloused hands.

“Yeah—fuck, ow! Right there.” Another pang shoots through you, and you wince, clutching at the edge of the coffee table for stability. “I keep telling you I’m not fit for—ahh, ow!—your crazy-ass positions.”

He huffs a little laugh, though his hands never stop their steady kneading. “It wasn’t that crazy,” he mutters defensively, but one warning glare from you is enough to shut him up.

Once the cramp begins to ease, your body relaxes against the table with a long sigh. Javier’s touch softens, his thumbs now sweeping soothing circles over your calf. He leans down and presses a kiss to the tender muscle, murmuring, “Sorry, nena. Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Your heart swells at his care, and you can’t help but grin as he kisses his way up your body. His lips trace a slow, reverent path—your pelvis, the softness of your belly, the suppleness of each breast, the hollow of your throat. By the time his mouth meets yours, your annoyance is completely forgotten, replaced by a lazy, bubbling affection.

This is the first real kiss he’s given you since you got home, and it’s the kind that melts you from the inside out. You hum against his lips, your tongue tracing the curve of his mouth, savoring the way he tastes like sex and something inherently Javi.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both sit there for a moment, naked and tangled together, his cum still slick between your thighs and smearing against the surface of the table.

“I’ll try to be more considerate next time,” he says, almost teasingly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

You smirk, dragging your nails lightly down his chest. “You better, or I’ll start vetoing these gymnastic stunts of yours.”

He chuckles, his eyes dropping briefly to where his cum is trickling from you. A rueful grin spreads across his face as he reaches for the shirt he’d discarded earlier and uses it to clean the mess between your legs.

The simple domesticity of the act makes your chest ache in the best way.

As he finishes, you stretch your arms over your head, your muscles still warm and loose despite the cramp. “I need a shower, some real food... and maybe another round later.”

“Only maybe?” He raises an eyebrow, his dimpled, teasing smile returning.

You hum thoughtfully, your gaze tracing the defined line of his jaw as your finger follows. “If you think sex is gonna be a distraction from the mess in your head, think again.”

“It’s the best distraction,” he mutters. “Would rather make my girl feel good than deal with everything else.”

“And while I’m flattered, baby, it’s not the healthiest thing you can do.”

His expression falters, the cockiness slipping away like a mask being gently peeled back. “I’m fuckin’ terrible at this. Always have been,” he mutters, his hands roaming your body as if touching you might patch together all that’s unraveling inside him.

His palms are warm and firm, one cupping your breast in a gentle squeeze, the other sliding down to rest at your hip.

He kneads and caresses you, almost like you’re the one who needs the comfort instead of him. “I’ve spent so much time doing what I thought people wanted from me. Now I don’t even know what I want.”

“There’s no rush to figure it out, you know. No one’s expecting you to and I promise you’re not the only person that feels this way.”

“Feels like I’ve got nothin’ to show for myself, though. Just a pile of bullshit and a broken puzzle.”

You sit up, drawing his focus to you as your hands grip his toned biceps to steady yourself. “Hey.” Your voice is soft but insistent. “You’ve got more than you think. And I happen to like this version of you—even if he’s a grump.”

A faint smirk breaks through the inner struggle that clouds in his eyes. “Yeah? Even when I’m bein’ a lazy ass?”

“Even then,” you tease, grinning back at him.

His gaze lingers, drinking you in with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours. You’re weightless, floating in the way only Javi can make you feel when he kisses you like this.

“I don’t deserve you, you know that?” he murmurs against your lips, his forehead resting against yours.

“It’s always nice to be reminded.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, his teeth catching your lower lip in a gentle bite before he finally lets you go. He stands, offering you his hand to pull you to your feet.

As you wobbly get up, a few puzzle pieces that had clung to your skin fall to the floor, catching both your attention. Javi chuckles, a little more relaxed than before. “Should’ve cleaned those up before spreading you open like that.”

“I feel like there’s a metaphor in there somewhere.”

He turns you gently so he can pluck off the remaining pieces, his hand lingering to deliver a playful slap to your ass which makes you giggle.

“You know,” you say after a beat, glancing at him, “this puzzle thing could be good for you. Builds patience.”

He arches a brow, skepticism written all over his face. “Once again, that isn’t exactly my strong suit, cariño.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Your grin is infectious as you nudge him lightly with your shoulder. “But maybe that’s what you need right now. Something slow. Something that’s just for you. And something that isn’t…” You trail off, eyes darting to the box abandoned on the couch. “A hideous horse puzzle. God, Javi, what even is this? I’d be pissed trying to put it together too.”

A scoff escapes him, sharp and playful, his brown eyes narrowing as he straightens. “First of all, it’s vintage,” he says, the mock defense in his tone making you laugh.

“Vintage? That’s not an excuse.” You’re already stepping back when you see the shift in his stance, the way his hand twitches toward you. “Don’t even think about it.”

But it’s too late. His fingers dart out in an attempt to pinch your side, and you squeal, darting out of reach. The sound of your laughter fills the room, loud and unrestrained as you scramble to keep distance between the two of you. He’s, unsurprisingly, quicker, his footsteps closing behind as he chases you down the hallway.

Just as you reach the bathroom door, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body. You’re both breathless, his warm breath fanning against your ear as he holds you close. “Gotcha.”

Your heart pounds, your laughter subsiding into soft, breathy chuckles as you twist to face him. The sparkle in his eyes is undeniable and you let him walk you backwards into the bathroom with the intention of piping you down again before finally letting you shower.

The late afternoon light filters through the half-closed blinds, casting warm, golden stripes across Javier’s bedroom. You’re sprawled on his bed, your legs stretched out, absently flipping through a magazine.

The quiet creak of the bedroom door catches your attention, and your eyes lift to meet his.

He leans against the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame, arms crossed over his chest. His white t-shirt clings to his torso in a way that makes your thighs rub together, the fabric stretched taut over his solid build. There’s a small grin on his lips as he watches you.

“Hey,” he drawls, finally pushing off the door and crossing the room.

“Hi.”

Without hesitation, he climbs onto the bed, his weight shifting the mattress beneath you. He crawls toward you, settling his head on your lap and nuzzling against your stomach. You can’t help but laugh softly, moving the magazine out of his way and onto the bedside table.

“You’re comfortable,” you tease, your fingers threading through his thick hair, twisting a few strands absently around your finger.

His eyes flutter shut at your touch, a satisfied hum rumbling from his chest. “Can’t help it. I’ve got the best pillow.”

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. “Can I help you?”

He opens one eye, peering up at you with a smirk. “I have a gift for you.”

Your brows lift, curious. “A gift?”

“Mm-hmm,” he mutters against your skin, peppering your jawline with lazy, affectionate kisses. The bristle of his mustache has goosebumps curling over your skin. “Tis the season.” He punctuates the sentiment with a playful nip at your neck, making you squeal softly before he pulls away.

“Come on,” he tugs gently at your hand and coaxes you off the bed.

You let him guide you into the kitchen, your bare feet padding against the cool floor. He pulls out a barstool, gesturing for you to sit as he reaches for something on the counter. With a small flourish, he places a travel magazine in front of you, flipping it open to a glossy spread.

Your eyes land on the page, and your breath catches. The images are of a stunning ski resort, nestled in snow-dusted mountains with cozy lodge interiors and breathtaking views of the slopes.

“You didn’t…” you whisper, your voice caught between disbelief and excitement.

His lips tug into a wolfish smile, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes as he watches the realization dawn on your face.

“You didn’t!” you exclaim, jumping up from the stool and throwing your arms around his neck.

Your momentum nearly topples him, but he steadies the both of you with a low chuckle.

You’d mentioned it what feels like ages ago—a casual, offhand story about that ill-fated trip to the mountains with your college friends.

Everything about it had gone wrong. The busted gear, the unexpected blizzard—but through all the chaos, you’d confessed how badly you still wanted to cross skiing off your bucket list.

And Javier remembered. Not just the story, but the way your eyes had lit up despite the unfortunate circumstances. Now here he is, ready to give you that second chance—the best do-over of all time, with him.

“I had to,” he murmurs by your ear. “Spending a week on a winter retreat with you seems a lot more fun than going home this year.”

You don’t press about his family, knowing it’s a tricky subject. Instead, you let the moment settle, your heart swelling with gratitude for his thoughtfulness.

“You’re the best,” you say between a flurry of kisses, peppering his face until his deep chuckle vibrates against your palms. His eyes crinkle at the corners, happiness radiating from him as he gazes down at you.

“The best for you,” he replies softly. “You deserve this, nena. Workin’ so hard all the time… I just wanted to give you somethin’ special.”

You shake your head, grinning so hard it hurts your cheeks. “Do you know how impossible it’s going to be to top this?”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “I wasn’t expecting anything in return.”

“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t get my man a gift?” You’re already racking your brain for ideas. It has to be something meaningful—something that feels right for him, not just a wallet or some cologne.

He pulls you onto his lap when he sits on the barstool, going over the details.

Everything’s covered, he explains—all you have to do is pack and show your pretty ass up. Your excitement bubbles over at the thought, visions of cozy lodge nights and snowy adventures filling your mind.

“Guess I need to go shopping,” you say, already making mental plans to call Connie for help picking out the perfect wardrobe.

Javi chuckles, leaning in to kiss your temple. “Just don’t forget to pack a swimsuit.”

“A swimsuit? For a ski trip?”

He grins, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Hot tubs, nena. Trust me, I plan on having a lot of fun with you while we’re away.”

The resort feels like a dream you don’t want to wake up from. It’s only been a few days, and you’re already dreading your departure.

Javier really hadn’t held back, booking a private cabin with sweeping views of the snow-kissed mountain horizon.

A real Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner of the living room, next to the fireplace, its lights twinkling softly against the glassy expanse of the giant windows that line the walls.

Despite the openness, the space feels warm and intimate, like it was made just for the two of you.

And then there’s the hot tub. Nestled in the patio area overlooking the gorgeous scenery, it practically beckons you to defile it, steam curling up against the chilled glass.

You’ve been biding your time, waiting for the right moment to unveil the gift you have for him. It’s actually kind of genius and the perfect way to help pull him out of his post-porn funk.

For now, though, you’re content to let the days unfold naturally, filled with skiing lessons, childish snowball fights outside your cabin, and lots of great sex.

The lift sways gently as it carries you and Javier up the mountain, the cool air biting at your cheeks, though you barely notice.

Your attention drifts to him, as it often does—his profile sharp and striking against the backdrop of the rising sun. The golden light casts a glow over the snowy peaks, painting the scene in colors too beautiful to let slip away.

You shift closer to him, the insulated fabric of your jacket brushing against his as you tilt your head to rest on his shoulder. His arm instinctively drapes across your lap, steadying you, his gloved hand giving your thigh a light squeeze.

“Take a picture with me,” your voice is eager, breaking the quiet hum of the lift.

Javier turns his head, a brow quirked beneath the edge of his snow goggles. “Now? On this thing?”

“Yes, now.” You’re already moving to pull the small camera out of your pocket. “The view is perfect, and I want to remember this.”

He chuckles, leaning back slightly to give you space to situate the camera. “Alright, but if you drop it, don’t start bitching at me.”

You roll your eyes, holding the camera up and adjusting the angle to capture the two of you against the sprawling mountains bathed in warm hues, making the snow sparkle.

You make sure to move both of your goggles so they’re resting atop of your head, your faces on full display.

Javier tilts his head closer to yours, his hand slipping to your waist to pull you snug against him.

“Smile,” you say, though you know it’s unnecessary—he’s already grinning, that playful smirk you’ve come to adore on his pouty pink lips.

The camera clicks as you take a few photos. Smiling, him kissing your cheek, and you quickly check the screen once you’re finished, heart warming at the sight of the two of you.

“See? Perfect.” You declare, showing him the pictures.

He glances at them, mirroring the same doting expression you’d just made. “You make ‘em look perfect, nenita.”

As the lift continues to ascend, you find yourself watching him more than the scenery.

It’s hard not to marvel at the layers to this man who had once driven you up the wall. You think back to when you first met him—how easily you’d pegged him as cocky and self-centered, someone who wore his charm like a defense mechanism.

It feels surreal now, knowing how wrong you were. Javier wasn’t just the confident pornstar that could command a room with just a look or a smile. He was thoughtful, protective, and deeply giving in ways that made your heart stutter. You can’t fathom how someone like his ex would ever think about cheating on him.

Lost in thought, you don’t realize you’ve gone quiet until he glances down at you, brows knitting slightly.

“What’s on your mind, cariño?”

“You really surprise me, you know that?”

His expression shifts, the teasing edge softening into something more earnest. “Surprise you how?”

“I thought I had you all figured out when we first met.”

His mustache twitches as he bites back a knowing grin. “In your defense, I didn’t let you see more than that.”

“Yeah, I know...” You laugh lightly, shaking your head. “But I couldn’t have been more wrong. You’re… so much more than I gave you credit for.”

He’s quiet for a second, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Guess I should thank you for giving me a chance to prove you wrong.”

You lean in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, nose scrunching as the hairs of his mustache tickle you. “You’ve done more than just prove me wrong, Javi.”

The lift jerks slightly as it approaches the landing, but neither of you move right away. The world feels quieter here, suspended between earth and sky, just the two of you and the golden light.

“You’re going to make me fall for you talkin’ like that.”

You feel warmth spreading in your chest at his words, wondering if it’s too soon to start catching feelings like this.

You smile against his mouth, not saying anything yet not needing to, before pulling back to move your face covering up and adjust your goggles back over your eyes in preparation to go down the snowy hill.

Your shoulders ache slightly from today’s falls, but it’s the kind of soreness that feels good—earned, but nevertheless annoying. Like now, as you pick yourself up from yet another fall, calling it quits.

“You held out a lot longer than I expected.” Javier teases, his voice muffled by his face covering but still carrying that low, raspy timbre that makes your stomach flutter.

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re glad he can’t see the smile tugging at your lips.

You take him in—bundled up in his blue snow suit, goggles perched perfectly in place, his broad shoulders and confident stance somehow still exuding that effortless magnetism he carries everywhere.

Even out here, in the freezing cold, with his face obscured, he manages to look unfairly sexy.

Something about him always pulls you in. Maybe it’s the way his energy feels like gravity, anchoring you to every little thing he does. Or maybe it’s how even the simplest acts—like standing on a snowy hillside—become more vivid, more fun, more everything with him.

Your boots crunch through the snow, the skis clumsy but manageable. He’s watching you, his stance casual, hands resting on his poles as if he’s been doing this his whole life.

He had picked up on this activity much quicker than you. The instructor even called him a natural—but you’re certain she was only saying that because she was attracted to him… which, honestly, fair.

“This is your thing,” he says as you approach. “You’re the one who wanted to cross this off your little list. I’m just here for moral support... and to check you out in that suit.”

You burst out laughing, nearly stumbling again as you try to grab the poles you’d dropped when you fell over. “You can barely see anything in this suit,” you shoot back, gesturing to the thick layers of waterproof fabric that make you feel more like a marshmallow than a person.

“Baby,” he drawls, stepping closer, “I could make out those tits and that ass under anything.”

You shake your head, warmth blooming across your cheeks. “You’re such a fucking flirt,” you say, though your voice softens as his gloved hand reaches out to pull you to him.

“And yet, here you are,” he murmurs, leaning just close enough that you catch the mischievous glint in his eyes through the reflective goggles.

“Here I am.”

You’re back at the general area where you’d first gotten your ski gear, adjusting your snow boots while Javier deals with returning your equipment.

The air is warm inside the lodge, a stark contrast to the crisp chill outside, and the hum of other skiers and snowboarders unwinding after their runs fills the space.

You’re so focused on fastening a particularly stubborn buckle that the sound of your name catches you off guard.

Your head snaps up, brows furrowing, and there he is. Frankie.

He’s making his way toward you, his strides familiar, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, and that lazy, warm smile plastered on his face like it hasn’t been forever since you last saw him.

Your surprise must show because his grin widens slightly as he stops in front of the bench you’re sitting on.

“Frankie, wow, hey.” Your voice is polite, if a little flat.

He wastes no time, dropping down onto the bench beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The sudden weight makes it creak, and though you subtly shift a little away, he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Small world.” He’s looking at you with an easy kind of interest, eyes warm and familiar. You have a type. “Didn’t know you were into skiing, hermosa. How have you been?”

Your stomach does a little flip at the damn nickname but you keep your expression neutral, returning your focus to lacing your second boot. “Great, actually. I’m trying it for the first time. Been taking lessons since we got here.”

His brow lifts, amused. “And how’s that going for you?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you tug off your gloves. “I’ve wiped out more times than I’d care to admit.”

He chuckles, stripping off his own gloves, clearly in no rush.

“So what brings you here?” The question feels innocent enough.

“Trip with the guys,” he answers, nodding his head in the direction of a group near a counter. You glance over and sure enough, you see the familiar faces from his circle, all caught up in their own conversation.

“Sounds fun,” you offer, “How’s Elliana? Not too happy her daddy’s missing Christmas, I’m sure.” You smile teasingly, meaning no harm, but the flicker of something on his face makes you pause. His jaw tenses ever so slightly, and the way he drops his gaze feels telling.

“She’s great. Actually, on a trip of her own with her mom and her... uh, new boyfriend.”

You catch the faint cringe he tries to hide as the explanation comes tumbling out. Your chest tightens in an uncomfortable way, not out of sympathy for him, exactly, but more at the reminder of why you two had split up to begin with.

Looks like his effort to “work things out” hadn’t exactly panned out.

“Good for her,” you reply softly, though the exchange feels a little awkward now, like neither of you knows quite where to steer the conversation.

Frankie opens his mouth to say something else, maybe an apology for oversharing or another attempt at small talk, but before he can, you catch a glimpse of Javier weaving through the crowd.

Your heart lifts instantly, as if the room somehow brightens at the sight of him. His tall frame stands out, eyes scanning the lodge, clearly searching for you.

You don’t give Frankie the chance to drag things out any further.

You quickly gather your things, standing as casually as you can. “I have to get going,” you announce, shouldering your bag. “Enjoy the rest of your stay, Frankie.”

He hesitates before he gives you a small nod. “For sure. You too, hermosa. See you around.”

You give him a brief wave before turning and making your way to Javier, your boots thudding lightly against the floor.

His face lights up when he spots you, his gloved hand resting gently on your lower back once he pulls you to him.

“You all set?” he asks, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. The simple affection melts away whatever oddness you felt lingering from your run-in with Frankie.

“Yeah,” you reply, glancing up at him. He looks so effortlessly attractive, his cheeks pink from the cold and brown hair tousled from being under his hat. “I’m ready to get all cozy by the fire.” You purr the words a little, blinking up at him, and it works like a charm.

That sweet smile of his shifts into something sultry, and you don’t miss the way his fingers curl slightly against your back.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” His voice slipping into that seductive, honeyed tone that makes you wish you could fuck a voice. “Lead the way, nena.”

The cocktail table feels like your personal island amidst the ebb and flow of the crowd, the muted hum of holiday music weaving through the air. Warmth blooms across your cheeks from the drinks you’ve nursed through the night, and the haze only amplifies the rich sound of Javier’s laughter.

His hand rests on your lower back, fingertips brushing over the smooth, exposed skin where your dress dips low. The heat of his touch sears into you, enticing enough to have you arching into him.

You giggle as he leans in closer, his breath grazing your ear as he whispers something puckishly suggestive. “You keep lookin’ at me like that and we’re not makin’ it back to the cabin without me pulling this dress off you.”

Your thighs press together instinctively and you bite down on your lip, tilting your head to look up at him, your eyes swimming with the shared heat between you. “Don’t tempt me into letting you do it,” your words are a bit slurred from the alcohol, saturated with desire.

“Oh, I’m not looking to tempt you,” he murmurs, his hand sliding an inch lower. “I’m promising you.”

Your stomach flips, and the idea of staying out any longer feels suddenly impossible, the phantom touch of his hands and lips on you eclipsing all reason.

If there wasn’t an audience, you know you’d already be on your knees with four inches in your mouth, trying to fit the other four like the needy little thing he reduces you to when he gets you all horny.

“Sit tight, nena,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your lips. “Gotta hit the restroom. When I’m back, we’ll settle up and get out of here.”

You nod, though your brain barely processes the words as your eyes follow him weaving through the throng of people, his presence polarizing even in his absence.

As you sip the last of your drink, your gaze shifts to the large windows lining the restaurant.

Even at night, the resort resembles something out of a postcard. The twinkling holiday lights outside illuminating the snow in festive tones. You let yourself sink into the magic of it all, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of your glass, a serene moment settling over you—until it’s promptly shattered.

“Look who it is,” a voice cuts through the ambient noise, pulling your attention.

Your head turns, and there’s Frankie, his easy grin and brown eyes locked on you. He’s not alone, three more figures flank him—Santi, Benny, and Will, each wearing varying degrees of amusement on their faces. The sight of them, clearly under the influence and rowdy, throws you a little.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Frankie quips, his voice carrying that raspy drawl you once found charming.

Your eyes narrow, your posture stiffening. “You keep finding me, wouldn’t necessarily call that meeting,” you acknowledge curtly, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“Once he told us you were here, we couldn’t pass up the chance to say hello,” Benny adds, his grin wolfish as he scans you from head to toe, and you can practically feel his gaze lingering on the dip of your dress. “We miss having you around.”

You know these men. You spent enough time with them while dating Frankie to be able to place them all.

Santi, the smooth-talking charmer who always seems a little too pleased with himself. Benny, the loud, lovable wildcard who you’re sure has never taken anything seriously in his life. And Will, the quiet one with a piercing gaze that could unnerve anyone who wasn’t used to it.

They’re a reminder of why you usually avoid military men. Sure, they’re hot as hell, their confidence and strength undeniably attractive. But beneath that lies a mess of issues—trauma, control, and a certain recklessness that always seems to spill over into their romantic lives.

Frankie had been no different, but he’d wormed his way past your better judgment with that soft charm and rough-around-the-edges allure. And it didn’t hurt that he was real fucking good at eating pussy.

Not as good as Javier, though.

You take a step back, your hand reflexively resting on the edge of the table as though to steady yourself. Their presence feels suffocating, a sharp contrast to the cozy, all consuming warmth you’d just shared with Javi.

“That’s nice of you, but my boyfriend should be back any minute now...”

There’s a beat of silence as your words hang in the air, they exchange looks and you watch Frankie’s expression flicker—something almost smug crossing his features before it’s masked by a crooked smile. “Boyfriend, huh?”

Benny lets out a low whistle, leaning his forearms against the table top. “Didn’t think anyone could tame Fish’s girl.”

“Tame?” You shoot him a glare. “I’m not a fucking animal and certainly not his girl. Not for a while now. So you can all fuck off.”

They laugh at you and that only fires you up even more. Frankie slaps his hand on Benny’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. “Ease up man, she doesn’t take any shit.”

Benny cocks his head, his eyes gleaming with drunken amusement. “Which I think is hot. Definitely wouldn’t have fumbled you like this asshole did. And you do porn?” Another low whistle and you swear your eye twitches.

Before you can respond, Santi jumps in, his smirk as infuriating as ever. “No, no,” he says, shaking his head with mock seriousness. “Camera woman. Not actually a pornstar. Though,” he adds, now his turn to fuck you with his eyes, “I think you’d be a lot better in front of the camera, hermosa.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, your patience wearing thin. You can’t stay in this conversation any longer.

Santi raises his hands in false defense, his grin never faltering. Meanwhile, Will leans over to whisper something into his brother’s ear, and you catch the shift in Benny’s expression as he gives you a once-over, his gaze laced with something that makes your skin crawl.

You grip the glass in your hand tighter, seriously contemplating how much damage it could do.

“Things serious with your new man?” Frankie replaces Will across from you and you roll your eyes.

The audacity. “Yes,” you say through gritted teeth. “Very.” You lean forward slightly, your voice dropping into a cutting tone. “If I were you, I’d leave before he gets back… or before I shove the stem of this glass down your throat.”

Their laughter rises again, whistling and being overly obnoxious about your reply, but you ignore it, your focus razor-sharp on your ex.

“We had our time together, Frankie, and you decided to cut it short by going back to the mother of your child. Whatever, fine, shit happens, but now you’re acting like a real jerk. All of you are and I have no interest in continuing whatever the fuck this is, so, leave.”

You can tell your words hit their mark. Frankie has always respected your no-nonsense attitude, but being on the receiving end clearly doesn’t sit well with him.

Just as you turn to remove yourself from this stifling mess altogether, Javier reappears.

Javier doesn’t expect to come back and find four men crowding you, their broad shoulders and cocky stances cutting into your space like they own it. The sight stops him cold, but only for a second. Then his back straightens, his jaw locking tight as something territorial flares in his chest.

One of them catches his eye immediately—the scruffy, stray-dog-looking motherfucker he’d recognize anywhere.

That damn Malibu shoot, the tipping point for all the change that came after. The memory of Frankie all over you, the obnoxious flirting, how you had played into it.

Then you left Robbie’s crew and he made his move, securing you as his girlfriend, getting exactly what he wanted.

Javier had no right to feel possessive when it happened, even though every fiber of his being had screamed at him to do something about it. Sure, you shared moments that left him restless and aching for more, but it wasn’t enough to stake a claim, no matter how badly he wanted to, and you were so adamant about not wanting anything to do with him.

So, he’d done the only thing he could—told himself to get over it and buried the jealousy under layers of maintained indifference.

But now? Now you’re his girl. The first real, healthy relationship he’s had since Lorraine, and there’s no way in hell he’s holding back about anything when it comes to you. Especially not when Frankie and his action-movie crew are standing there, eyeing you like you’re some trophy to win.

“What’s goin’ on?” His voice cuts through the noise of their conversation, sharp and unyielding as he closes the distance.

He’s met with four pairs of eyes—two amused, one indifferent, and Frankie’s, which narrow slightly in recognition. Javier keeps his focus steady, his gaze hard as he takes them in.

His confidence has grown over the years, forged by his experiences and the praise from the industry. Yet, there’s still that lingering thread of insecurity that twists in his gut as he watches Frankie make his indifference clear.

“We were just catching up. Saying hello,” Frankie answers almost too casually, but his eyes gleam with something else—a challenge.

Javier doesn’t flinch. Instead, he steps closer to you, his hand finding your waist. “Looks like you’ve said it. Time to move on.”

Beside Frankie, one of the men grins as if he’s enjoying the show. “Easy, man,” he says, his tone teasing. “We’re just being friendly.”

Javier’s jaw ticks, a muscle in his cheek jumping as his grip on you tightens slightly. “Friendly looks more like crowding someone who doesn’t want to talk to you.”

While you’ve never gone into detail about what you had with Frankie, the updates Javier had gotten from Steve are enough to stir doubts. Words like satisfied are currently resurfacing to make him question things he knows aren’t true.

These men are something he isn’t. And even though you’re together now, there’s a small, irrational part of him that wonders if one day you’ll realize he isn’t what you want.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you—he does, with everything he’s got. But being cheated on leaves wounds that never fully close, scars that ache at the worst times. And seeing Frankie standing there, beaming like he still has a chance, stirs something primal in Javier.

“No need to get territorial, Peña. We were just having a little fun. Besides…” He trails off, his gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Javier. “She can handle herself.”

Javier’s blood boils, his free hand twitching at his side. It would take so little—a single punch to wipe that smug look off his face. But then your hand is on his chest, soft and grounding.

“It’s fine. I was just telling them to leave.”

Frankie’s gaze lingers on you in a look he recognizes all too well because he looks at you in the same goddamn way, and that has his vision tunneling.

“No harm done,” He steps back with exaggerated nonchalance. But then he throws one last barb over at you. “We’ll catch up some other time, hermosa.”

Javier doesn’t think, words slipping out before he can stop them. “No, the fuck you won’t. In fact, if I see any of you bother her again, I won’t hesitate to kick your ass.”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try.”

For a moment it looks like things might escalate. But one of the other men—blonde, with a calmer air about him—steps in.

“Alright, boys,” he says, reaching out to pull his friend back. “Let’s not make a scene.”

Frankie hesitates, his jaw tightening, but he relents with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever.”

Javier watches them retreat, his heart still pounding, until they’re out of sight. Only then does he let his shoulders drop slightly.

“Hey,” you say gently, tilting your head to catch his gaze. “You okay?”

“I didn’t like that one fucking bit,” he mutters, his voice rough.

Your smile is gentle, reassuring, and you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek which melts him immediately. “They don’t matter,” you whisper, your lips brushing his skin. “You’re the only one I care about.”

The words ease the last of the tension, and Javier lets out a breath, pulling you close. “Damn right,” his tone softens as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Let’s get out of here,” you suggest, a small mischievous smile on your face, “Your gift is waiting for you back at the cabin.”

It’s as if the entire confrontation is forgotten at your words and he becomes intrigued immediately. “Oh yeah? Then what the fuck are we doin’ still standing here. Let’s go.”

“Are your eyes closed?”

Javier leans against the armrest of the couch, his lips curving into a small smile as your voice carries from the bedroom.

“Yeah,” he replies, shifting slightly, his eyes obediently shut.

“You’re not lying to me?”

“No.” He chuckles, the deep, easy sound rumbling from his chest.

There’s the faint shuffle of movement, and then he feels you—the subtle electricity that always seems to spark when you’re near.

His hands are cupped in front of him as instructed, his curiosity piqued. He has no idea what you’ve planned, no inkling of what’s coming.

Honestly, he can’t believe you actually got him anything. The trip itself has been more than enough—a week of unfiltered joy, amazing sex, and waking up to you in his arms. If that isn’t a gift in itself, then what is?

Then you’re standing in front of him, placing something in his hands. He feels the cool weight of it, the texture of smooth plastic beneath his fingertips.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

Javier’s eyes flutter open, immediately drawn to the object cradled in his palms. It’s a handheld camcorder, a glossy red ribbon tied around it like the finishing touch on a present. His brows knit together in brief confusion, but before he can ask, you fill in the blanks.

“I want us to make a tape together, Javi.”

Your words hit him like a freight train. No, they hit his cock like a freight train, and the damn thing stirs to life before his brain even fully registers the meaning.

“You naughty little thing,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into that gravelly tone that always gets a rise out of you.

You bite your lip, a playful giggle escaping. “I figured it’d be something fun for us,” you say, stepping closer until he can smell the faint traces of your perfume. “Plus… I really like how you fuck on camera. Not that it’s any different from what we do, but…”

You trail off with a small, breathy moan that makes Javier’s restraint snap. He sets the camera carefully on the couch before pulling you closer, his hands gripping the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric in his fists as he pulls you between his knees.

“But…?” he prompts, his lips finding the curve of your neck. He kisses, nips, and licks, each touch of his mouth drawing little gasps from you. You taste divine, every inch of you always does.

“But it’s different,” you breathe, your fingers digging into his biceps as his teeth graze your skin. “I want to experience what all those other stars do when shooting a scene with you.”

His lips crash against yours, the kiss heated and possessive. He can taste the remnants of the cocktails you had at dinner, but more than that, he tastes you.

The memory of those old sets pales in comparison to the thought of filming with you.

“I’m all yours, nena,” he growls against your lips, his hands slipping lower to slap your ass then gripping onto the flesh. “This is a brilliant fucking idea. I’ve been telling you how hot you’d look on camera. How do you want to do this?”

Your smile is roguish, your confidence intoxicating. “I want us to take turns filming... directing… Wanna get some good shots of me sucking your cock.”

Your hand trails down his arm, skimming over the muscles there, then lower to pinch his hip before you palm his erection through his pants, his hips jerking involuntarily as he grunts.

“And I definitely need footage of that tongue of yours working my pussy,” you add, your tone sultry. “We’ll figure the rest out as we go. I want to start in the hot tub.”

Javier swears under his breath, his head tilting back slightly as your touch sends a fresh wave of desire through him. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, voice thick with need.

You smile, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away, leaving him half-dazed and completely aroused. “Get changed and take the camera outside. I’ll join you once I put on my costume.”

“Costume?” His brows arch in curiosity as his eyes track your retreating form.

“Costume might be pushing it. It’s something to set the tone for the amateur vibe I want this to have. Even if we know what we’re doing.”

“Whatever you want,” he’s so desperate to take you, “I’m going to tear you the fuck up.”

You blow him a kiss, your giddiness as palpable as his.

Javier watches you disappear into the bedroom, letting out a long breath as he stands and moves to his bag which you had purposefully, he realizes, brought out before leaving for dinner.

He pulls out his swim trunks, quickly changing and grabbing the camera again. He can’t help the simper pulling at his lips as he removes the ribbon and flits through the settings, familiarizing himself with it.

Javier slides open the patio door, the soft scrape of the glass breaking the stillness of the night. A cool breeze rushes in, sharp against his skin, but it’s a refreshing contrast to the heat coursing through his veins.

The glow of the string lights overhead reflects off the rippling water of the hot tub. They frame the scene perfectly, tiny stars encircling what already feels like a secluded slice of paradise.

He steps out onto the wooden deck, the chill biting at his bare chest and legs. A small shiver runs through him, but it’s chased away the moment he dips into the steaming water. The heat rises to meet him, coiling around him like an inviting embrace.

Javier lowers himself deeper into the tub, the warmth spreading instantly, soothing muscles. The jets hum to life with the press of a button, sending gentle ripples across the surface. Another tap, and the colorful lights beneath the water bloom, shifting from deep blue to vivid green, then a lurid red.

He leans back against the edge, one arm stretched casually along the rim, the other cradling the camcorder.

The setting is perfect—intimate, cozy, and alive with the kind of cinematic allure that’s been a part of his life for so long. Only this time, it’s personal. This time, it’s with you.

“Alright, I’m coming out,” your voice calls from inside, and Javier’s pulse spikes as if his body already knows it’s about to be wrecked.

He shifts in the water, the tent in his briefs straining beneath the surface. His fingers move automatically, adjusting his grip on the camcorder, raising it to eye level, his thumb brushing over the small record button.

“Ready whenever you are,” he says, his voice a little lower, raspier.

Through the steamy glass, he tracks your shadowy movements, catching fleeting glimpses of red that tease him to the point of madness.

The condensation and reflections blur the details, but it only adds to the attraction. He can feel his heart thudding against his ribs, a primal drumbeat that matches the ache in his cock.

And then you step out, framed by the sliding door like a vision he couldn’t conjure even in his wildest fantasies.

“Fuck me.”

The red bikini bottoms sit high on your hips, the delicate ties framing your curves like artwork. That vivid, sinful shade of red makes your skin seem to glow, the contrast leaving him weak.

In one hand is a bottle of champagne, the other holding two flutes, and his tongue pokes against his cheek at how festive you’re being.

He zooms in with the camera, starting at your legs then capturing every dip and swell of your thighs, the plushness he knows so well.

The lens follows up, slowly drinking in the soft curve of your stomach, lingering over the way your tits press against the satin ribbon wrapped around them like a present he’s dying to open. The bow tied between your cleavage looks precarious, like it might unravel at the slightest tug.

The silky fabric is no match for the chill in the air, your hardened nipples poking through in a way that makes his tongue twitch in his mouth at the thought of flitting it over the stiffened peaks.

But then his gaze—and the lens—finds your face, and it’s game over. Your lips are parted, plump and glistening as you lick them, the slight haze in your eyes a telltale sign of the alcohol still swimming in your veins. Your lashes frame your eyes perfectly, their sparkle teasing him as if daring him to lose control.

His mind is already racing ahead, imagining the way those lips will part as you take his cock into his mouth, the way your head will tilt back when he suckles at your clit, or how your eyes will roll into your skull when he’s buried deep inside your tight cunt.

“You look so fucking good. Shit,” he breathes, his voice shaky. The camcorder threatens to tremble in his hand as he refocuses on you, watching you strike playful poses against the doorframe, snowflakes getting caught in your hair.

Each one is more tantalizing than the last, and when you bend over to show him your sweet ass, he zooms in on how the red fabric outlines your pussy.

“Thank you,” you purr, your voice smooth and syrupy as you turn and saunter toward the tub, setting the drink and glasses aside. You exaggerate the sway of your hips, fully aware of the effect you have on him, and it’s almost too much.

He’s never had a woman make him feel this way.

Javier keeps the camera trained on you, his years of expertise blending seamlessly with his overwhelming desire to immortalize this moment.

The way the light dances off your skin, the ripple against your flesh as you move sensually, your smile—it’s all so perfectly you.

For a moment, he forgets the camera is even there. Every inch of you seems made for him, like a custom design he never dreamed he’d be lucky enough to have.

When you finally join him, stepping into the steaming water, his restraint frays to a thread. He’s gripping the camcorder like it’s the only thing keeping him from lunging at you.

“You’re teasing me, baby,” he rasps as he films you lowering yourself into the tub.

“I know,” you reply with a flirty smile. “But don’t you love it?”

“Too much,” he shifts his legs to relieve some of the pressure at his crotch, though it’s futile. He’s already undone, and the night’s only just begun.

“Keep posing, like you did by the door,” Javier instructs while his dark eyes remain fixed on you, not the viewfinder. Capturing this for later is one thing, but experiencing it now is something he wants seared into his memory for the rest of his life.

“Flirt with the camera using those beautiful eyes, nena.”

You bite your lip, your lashes lowering as you tilt your head, blinking slowly at the lens. You know exactly what to do, and he guesses this comes from watching the other stars do it on set.

The result is undeniably erotic. Knowing that you’ve never done it before like this, yet exude such natural talent, makes the moment infinitely hotter.

The water kisses your skin, glistening under the string lights and making every curve gleam like a jewel. You shift your weight, cocking your hip, arching your back—it’s fluid, seductive. Droplets of water run over your tits and how badly does he want to reach out and lick at them.

He will, he just wants to get enough footage of just you being so damn sexy.

You move with languid grace, tilting your head just so, and then giggling as you reach for the champagne. The sound is rousing, making his cock twitch.

You curl your finger, beckoning him closer, and he obeys without hesitation, the camera steady in his hands as he floats toward you.

You pour the golden liquid into your glass, bringing it to your lips with a playful flick of your tongue along the rim, a teasing preview of what’s to come.

When you tilt your head back, letting the bubbly glide past your lips, your throat moves with every swallow and he makes sure to let the shot linger there, fixated.

“Mmm,” the sound is a decadent hum that has his teeth sinking into his lower lip. “Tastes so good.”

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he growls, his large hand reaching up to cradle your jaw. His thumb brushes over your cheek, warm and damp under his touch, before sinking his fingers into the soft skin. “Look at how gorgeous my girl is.”

He angles your face toward the camera, showing you off like a precious work of art. You go pliant under his touch, your eyes locking on the lens as you bring the glass to your lips again, deliberately spilling the champagne, letting it cascade over your jaw and his waiting fingers, trickling down his wrist in a sticky, sparkling trail.

“Oops,” you say, your tone dripping with false innocence. Lowering your head, your tongue darts out, tracing the line of champagne from his pulse point up to his fingers.

You take the tip of his finger into your mouth, sucking lightly, swirling your tongue around the pad before releasing it with a wet, lingering kiss.

“Dios mío,” Javier groans, his hips shifting as his swollen cock brushes against your thigh. The soft gasp that escapes you only feeds his need. “Pretty and dirty. A real fuckin’ star.”

His hand trails lower, abandoning your face to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over the damp fabric before tugging at it, unraveling it completely.

The cool air kisses your skin just before his touch follows, warm and possessive. He doesn’t ask—Javier never does when it comes to adoring you; he just takes, knowing how much you love it.

Especially when he plays with your tits.

You shake them playfully, the soft, bouncing motion making him snarl, the sound rumbling low in his chest.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hand kneading your flesh, his thumb brushing over your nipple before he pinches it just hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from your lips.

His eyes flicker to the viewfinder, ensuring the camera catches every detail as he lavishes attention on you, pinching and rolling your puckered tips between his fingers until you’re squirming against him.

“Give me the camera,” you breathe through soft whimpers, reaching for it. He hands it over without a second thought, his hands lingering on yours as he relinquishes the device.

The power shifts, and you waste no time, pointing the lens at him. “Suck on my tits, Javi,” you coo, each word laced with seduction, and his reaction is immediate.

He pulls you against him, your bodies slick with the heat and bubbles of the water, his hard cock pressing insistently between your thighs. His mouth finds your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he sucks it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you whine.

Your free hand tangles in his damp hair, guiding his head and angling his face for the camera as he lavishes attention on you. The viewfinder captures everything: the way his lips move, how his tongue circles your areola, the glistening trail of water droplets and his spit on your skin.

His mouth moves to your other breast to do the same, sucking harder this time.

“So good, baby,” your voice trembles with pleasure. “You’re so good to me.”

He chuckles low against your chest, relishing in your praise and how he’s able to make you react.

His large hands slide up, cupping your breasts as he pushes them together, burying his face between them and motorboating you. The deep, playful groan he lets out makes you laugh breathlessly behind the camera.

“Pass me the champagne,” Javi murmurs, his lips brushing your collarbone.

You loosen your hold on his hair, reaching for the bottle. The moment it’s in his hands, he tilts it back for a quick swig, the liquid catching the light as it drips from the corner of his mouth.

He pours a generous stream over your chest, the cool champagne trickling down the valley of your breasts. His tongue is quick to chase it, licking and sucking every drop, his movements rougher now, hungrier.

You adjust the camera, your arm stretched out to capture the way his mouth trails up to your neck, nipping and kissing as if he can’t get enough.

The wet, desperate sounds of your kisses fill the air, drowning out the gentle hum of the hot tub jets.

It’s messy, all tongue and teeth, as if he’s trying to consume you entirely.

Javier takes the camera back without breaking the kiss, adjusting the angle to film the way your lips move against his. His free hand grips your waist, guiding the both of you backward until his body presses against the tub’s edge.

Snowflakes drift in on the breeze, clinging to your hair and his, melting instantly against your heated skin.

“You gonna be a good girl and show the camera how much you love my cock? How good you are at taking him down your throat?” he asks, his voice thick with lust, his lips brushing against your ear.

He zooms in on how your mouth parts in an eager smile.

“Yes,” you breathe, nodding with unrestrained excitement.

Javier lifts himself onto the tub’s edge, the chill in the air biting at his skin, but he doesn't care, not with the way his excitement overrides any of his discomfort. His legs remain submerged, spreading wide to give you space.

You move between them, the warm water lapping at your waist as your hands trail up his legs, your fingers kneading the firm muscle.

“I’ll make it extra good for you today, baby,” you promise, and he knows you mean every word.

He lifts his hips up to help you pull down his trunks, his erection bobbing free from its constraints. Javier hisses as the cool air hits him, but it’s quickly soothed when you wrap your fingers around his shaft and he groans, your softer touch feeling like fucking heaven.

You stroke him a few times, and the visual of you jerking his cock while the bubbles from the jets flutter around your bod has him tightening his grip on the camera.

As he watches you, he knows—he wouldn’t change a single thing about what got you here.

Not the fights, not the doubts, not the messy way you two stumbled into this, because every moment led to this one.

You hum, looking up at him through your lashes, giving the camera a flirty wink before your tongue darts out to kitten lick at his weeping tip, his skin flushed a devious red.

You start slowly, teasing the sensitive skin of his spongy head, swirling around it and tasting the saltiness of the precum that beads at the slit. He sucks in a sharp breath, his free hand tangling in your hair to guide you closer.

“So fucking perfect.”

Your eyes twinkle at the praise, taking him deeper, your lips stretching around his girth. The camera captures every second—his cock disappearing into your mouth, the way your cheeks hollow as you suck, the slick sounds of your efforts filling the air.

Javier’s hips jerk, unable to hold still as you bob your head, your tongue working him over. Drool slips from the corners of your lips, mixing with the water from the tub as you take him as deep as you can, gagging, the messy display making him curse under his breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his voice breaking. “You’re so goddamn good at this.”

You moan around him, the vibration making his grip in your hair tighten. You pull back to catch your breath, your hand stroking him while your tongue laves attention along the underside of his shaft, tracing every pulsating vein.

“Messy little thing,” he murmurs, the camera focusing on the spit shining his cock, dripping from your chin as you smile wickedly up at him.

“I like it messy,” you reply, your voice a foxy, hoarse purr before you take him back into your mouth, sucking harder, faster, the wet, obscene sounds driving him closer to finishing.

The camera feels heavier in his hand as he adjusts the focus, trying to capture every detail of this moment, but his heart beats faster when he realizes the truth: no recording, no photo, nothing tangible could ever truly do justice to what he feels right now. It’s more than physical. It’s more than lust.

It’s her. She’s it. She’s everything.

As if reading his mind, your gaze flicks up to meet his, and you fucking smile with his cock in your mouth.

He exhales a shaky breath, barely holding on to his composure when you release him with an audible pop and trail your tongue down his length. The hand pumping him doesn’t slow, but your mouth finds his inner thigh then his balls, licking and biting just enough to make his leg tense under you.

“Where do you want to come, Javi?” Your voice is a soft, breathy rasp, and his whole body reacts to the sound of it. Your hand moves faster, and he’s unable to form an answer before you stop abruptly, making him curse under his breath.

“In my hand?” Your grip tightens around his cock.

“Goddammit,” his frustration turns to a low, guttural noise when you lower your mouth and tap the tip of his cock against your tongue.

“Or on my tongue?” The slick glide of your lips as you tease him is pure torture, but you’re not done. You push your chest forward, letting his dick slap against the humps of your tits.

“Maybe all over these?” Your voice is sweet, almost playful, but your intentions are anything but. The sight of his cock glistening against your skin, the jiggle of your flesh under his weight, makes his vision blur for a second.

“Or are you going to hold it in and fill my pussy?”

The way you say it, so casually filthy, sends a jolt of arousal through him. He bites down hard on his lip, every muscle in his body tightening. You’ve always had a mouth on you, but this—this is something else entirely.

Your confidence, the way you’ve grown into yourself since being with him, sends a surge of pride through his chest.

“Baby, I’m going to fuck you so full of my cum you’ll be tasting it for fucking weeks.”

Your breathless giggle is music to his ears, and when you lean in to kiss his cock, licking over the tip, his control shatters.

“C’mere,” he sneers, pulling you up into a heated kiss. His mouth is desperate, his teeth scraping against your lips. He adjusts, submerging himself back into the water, being mindful of the device, and pulling your back flush against his chest.

He angles the lens to capture the way your bodies press together, the steam from the water curling around you both. The viewfinder is flipped and shows your damp hair sticking to your face, his lips dragging over the curve of your neck.

“Look at how good we look,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp against your ear as his hand palms your breast, squeezing roughly.

A smile splits your face, drunk on the taste of his cock and the alcohol. Slowly, you shift on your toes, bending forward just enough to tease him with the curve of your ass, playfully wiggling it as you rub his cock between your cheeks.

“Come fuck me, Javi.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes, bringing the camera lower to capture the way the bubbles skim over the curve of your body. He smacks each cheek, the sound sharp against the steady hum of the jets, and you huff, arching even more.

When he pulls at the strings of your bikini bottoms, letting the fabric fall away, he curses under his breath. “Mierda,” he hisses, his hand kneading your supple flesh before gripping the base of his cock and slapping it against your skin.

He can’t help but grin as he shows off for the camera.

When he slides himself along your slick folds, he groans, feeling how wet you are for him. “Damn, suckin’ me off gets you this turned on, nena?” he asks, breathless.

You let out a needy whimper, nodding as your hips push back against him.

He doesn’t make you wait, sinking into you with a grunt that’s half your name and half prayer. The way your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, makes him swear under his breath as he sets a rhythm that sends water spilling over the edge of the tub.

“Oh, Javi, oh fuck!” Your voice is loud, shameless, and he loves every filthy syllable of it.

“You like that, huh?” he growls, slowing his thrusts to drag his cock out of you torturously slow, the tight suction of your pussy making him grit his teeth.

“Gorgeous fucking pussy doesn’t want to let me go,” he mutters, angling the camera to capture the way your body takes him so perfectly, the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you echoing around you.

He licks his lips, the phantom taste of your tangy sweetness haunting them, and the thought of you spread out while he loses himself in eating you out burns through him like fire.

The way you whimper in protest when he pulls out is enough to make him consider sinking back into your tight, sopping heat, but he reins himself in. Instead, his hand comes down on your ass, the sharp crack echoing in the chilled night air.

“None of that. Let’s move this party inside. I need to taste you.”

You bite your lip, shivering from the combination of his words and the cold air biting at your damp skin.

Both of you are dripping water as you climb out of the hot tub, the biting chill of the night air wraps around you, sending goosebumps racing across your skin.

Javier notices, of course he does, and he drags his hands over your arms, a fleeting attempt at warming you before snagging the nearest towel.

“C’mere, nena,” he mutters, pulling you close. The towel is large, but his hands are clumsy as he rubs it over your body. The motion is both tender and hurried, his fingers lingering on the curves of your hips, your nice tits, and the slick heat between your thighs. “Can’t have you catching a cold now, can we?”

You giggle, your teeth chattering as you take the camera from him as he brings you inside. You stumble over the threshold, recording every imperfect second.

The contrast between the icy air outside and the inviting heat of the cabin is immediate, the crackling fireplace casting a golden glow across the room.

Javier wastes no time, pulling you toward the plush rug in front of the flames. You lay on your back, taking a moment to admire your boyfriend.

He’s a masterpiece carved by desire, every part of him sculpted to make you ache.

You handle the camera in your hands, the viewfinder framing Javier like the sex god that he is. You’re practically purring as the lens lingers on his thighs and how they flex subtly when he shifts his weight.

The camera pans higher and you feel that insistent heartbeat at your pussy.

His cock stands heavy and proud, the firelight casting shadows along his delicious length and girth. He’s gorgeous—thick veins trailing up velvety skin, the head angry and eager to punch into your cunt, his balls heavy with the load he’s already promised to fill you full of.

Continuing your digital ascent, you capture the sharp planes of his torso, his golden-brown skin glowing in the warmth of the flames. His chest rises and falls with slow, steady breaths.

Finally, you settle the shot on his lips, looking plush under that sexy ass mustache. They have ruined you time and time again with words, kisses, and the way they dote on every part of you.

“He’s so fucking good at using those.” You whisper to the camera.

“You done admiring?” He asks with playful arrogance, as if he hadn’t been absolutely eating up every reaction you had given to the body he’s sculpted into a living, breathing fantasy

“Never.”

He leans down to kiss you, sticky precum brushing against your lower stomach. Slyly, he takes the device from your hands, now his turn to marvel at you.

His lips part slightly as he looks at you, the flames illuminating every curve and dip of your body, painting you in shades of gold and amber.

“Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You bite your lip, your cheeks heated under his gaze. Javier adjusts the angle, zooming in on the way your thighs press together, craving him again.

“Spread your legs for me, nena.”

You hesitate, suddenly shy under the intensity of his gaze, but he makes it impossible to deny him when he looks at you like this.

Slowly, you part your legs, exposing yourself to him fully.

“Goddamn,” Javier growls, his free hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, his calloused fingers trailing to where you’re still sticky with arousal from how he’d taken you outside. He uses his thumb to spread open one of your pussy lips, revealing your pretty cunt to the camera, his thumb pressing down on your clit, smearing your juices around.

“You know how perfect you are?” he asks, his voice low as he sets the camera down at the perfect angle to capture what he’s about to do next. “Every fucking inch of you drives me crazy.”

Javier leans over you, his lips trailing down your neck to the hollow between your breasts. His hands spread you open further, his breath hot against your skin as he settles himself between your thighs.

You shudder as his lips press against your inner thigh, sinewy fingers keeping you spread open so the camera gets a good view of his tongue doing what it does best between your legs.

The fire crackles beside you, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his mouth as he begins to devour you, his tongue and lips coaxing soft moans and gasps from your lips.

He doesn’t rush. He takes his time, savoring every sound you make, every tremble of your body. He pulls back briefly, some of your slick clinging to his lips, just long enough to grab the camera again, angling it to capture your flushed face and the way your body arches toward him before handing it over to you.

You almost drop it from how fucking lightheaded he’s left you, but manage to hold onto it, doing your best to record this handsome man going down on you.

“No one else gets to see you like this. Just me.”

The possessiveness in Javier’s voice is laced with an edge of jealousy, a dark fire stoked by earlier moments that now claw their way back into his mind. Flashes of other men crowding you, eyeing what’s his, swirl in his thoughts, blending with images of you and Frankie tangled in your sheets.

The thought ignites a growl deep in his chest. His fingers grip your thigh harder, nails biting into your skin as he buries his face between your legs with renewed intensity.

His tongue swirls and flicks over your clit, his lips sealing around the swollen nub with a pressure that makes your toes curl.

He’s punishing those images, driving them out by proving how thoroughly you belong to him.

“Just you, Javi, no one else,” you gasp, your back arching off the plush rug. With one hand on the device, your other lets its fingers twist into his thick brown hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt against your slick heat.

The vibrations ripple through you, sending you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering with anticipation.

You’re close—he feels it in the way your thighs shake, the way your breath stutters. Determined to pull you over the edge, he buries his face deeper, his nose nudging your clit as he shakes his head back and forth.

The scratch of his mustache against your tender flesh only intensifies your pleasure, and when his lips seal around your swollen clit and he sucks harshly, it shatters you.

“Oh my God, Javier!” you scream, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through you, the camera shaking violently in your hand. The heat of the nearby flames amplifies your euphoria, sweat beading on your skin.

“Pussy tastes so fuckin’ delicious,” his voice is muffled but heavy with want. Javier has always loved going down on women, but there’s something about you—your taste, your scent, the way your body responds to him—that drives him wild.

His cock thrums painfully, desperate for relief. He’s grinding against the rug without even realizing it, his need to claim you consuming every thought.

Even as your thighs twitch in the aftermath of your orgasm, he laps up every drop, greedy for more, his tongue sweeping over your oversensitive flesh until you’re gasping and squirming beneath him. Only then does he pull away, his lips and chin glistening with your essence.

Taking the camera again, he points it at you, capturing the sight of you sprawled across the rug, utterly spent. Your chest rises and falls, your eyes half-lidded with bliss.

“¿Todo bien, nena?” he asks, gingerly yet smugly satisfied.

“Mhm,” you hum, stretching languidly under his touch. “Just need a minute.”

He strokes your face, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips and you kiss the rough pad softly.

Wordlessly, he adjusts the lens, zooming in on your face, capturing the blissed-out expression that is all his doing. It makes him want to kiss you, so he does, bending down, his lips brushing yours in a smoldering liplock.

“Such a good kisser, Javi.” You chase after his mouth when he pulls away, bringing your hands up to cradle his face to keep your lips on his. He lets you, lost in the feeling in the same way you are, that poor camera idly recording the blur of your moving heads.

When he does finally pull back, he moves with purpose, setting up the camera on the coffee table, his fingers steady despite the heat thrumming through his veins.

He flips the viewfinder to showcase the two of you, positioning it to capture the perfect scene: the crackling fireplace, the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, the snow-kissed mountains visible through the frosted window, bathed in the silver moonlight.

The setup is a masterpiece, the kind of shot you’d call pure art. You’ve teased him about this before—how his talent for making things look so effortlessly beautiful extends even to his most smutty creations.

When Javier returns to you, his breath hitches. You’re stretched out on the rug, naked as the day you were born, your skin kissed by the soft illumination of the Christmas lights. You look up at him with a cheeky grin that makes his chest tighten and his cock throb.

“Hey, baby,” you say, your voice teasing yet soft, inviting him closer.

“Hi,” he murmurs back, his own lips shifting into a smile that mirrors yours.

He lowers himself to you again, cradling your jaw as if you’re the most delicate, precious thing he’s ever touched. “You havin’ fun?”

“So much,” you reply with a laugh that’s pure music to his ears. Your teeth catch his lower lip playfully, and your hand sneaks down between you, wrapping around his pulsating cock. The sound he lets out vibrates against your lips, and the look in his eyes is molten.

“Now fuck me full, Javi,” you whisper, your words bold and needy, a demand he’s more than eager to fulfill.

His hands are on you in an instant, pulling you up and shifting your body until you’re perfectly centered in the shot.

You look like a vision, his personal angel.

Javier kneels behind you, his strong hands gripping your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin just hard enough to leave marks he’ll admire later.

His cock teases your entrance, the slick head gliding over your swollen clit, and you mewl, your body quivering with anticipation. He watches, mesmerized, as you arch your back for him, offering yourself up completely.

Slowly, he sinks into you, savoring the way your walls envelop him, the tightness making him hiss through his teeth.

His grip tightens as he thrusts deeper, the stretch and fullness making you sob. The sound shoots straight to his cock, and he growls low in his throat, his hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt.

Your cries rise in pitch as he sets a brutal rhythm, each powerful thrust sending your tits bouncing uncontrollably.

Javier leans back slightly, angling his body just so, ensuring the camera captures every detail—the way your pussy clenches and drips around his cock and how obscene the sounds of your bodies joining echo in the cabin.

His nose skims the side of your neck, his breath hot against your damp skin. He bites down gently, soothing the sting with his tongue, before whispering filthy promises into your ear, each word making you tighten around him.

“You were made for me,” he declares, “This tight pussy, fuck, no one else gets to feel how perfect she is. Just me. All mine.”

Something about being inside you triggers this untamed passion in him, an insatiable desire that no amount of good fucking can quench.

He’s relentless, taking and taking, chasing the pleasure that only you can give him. The thought of you creaming all over his cock, screaming his name, and begging for more while teetering on the edge of oblivion has him thrusting harder, deeper.

No one else has ever felt like this—like home and sin wrapped into one. Fucking you is better than anything he’s ever known.

It doesn’t even have to be elaborate or kinky—though he certainly doesn’t mind. He loves it all, from nights like this to the slow, sleepy mornings when he wakes you by sliding his cock into your warm, welcoming body, loving the way you melt against him with soft sighs.

Now, though, it’s anything but slow. His hips piston up into you, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust, and you’re crying out his name like a prayer.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice rough in your ear as his pace falters momentarily.

You’re too lost in the haze of bliss to respond right away, your whimpers spilling from your lips in broken waves. Javier slows, grinding into you, letting the friction bring you back to him.

“I said, do you trust me?” he repeats, his tone firmer.

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, your voice a breathy plea as your pussy clenches around him.

A dark, satisfied smirk spreads across his face. “I’m gonna put you in a headlock, baby. Keep you right where I want you while I tear this pretty pussy up like I promised.”

You mewl, the sound making his cock twitch inside you. He nips at your ear, his breath fanning against your skin.

“If it’s too much, tap me three times, okay?” His voice softens slightly, a thread of tenderness weaving through the raw desire.

You nod eagerly, your voice trembling as you beg, “Please, Javi.”

When you turn your head to look at him, the vulnerability and trust in your eyes make his heart clench. Fuck, I love her.

Without another word, he surges forward to kiss you messily, his lips claiming yours as he loops a strong arm around your neck. The position pulls you flush against his chest, your back arching as he adjusts his knees, locking you into place.

“I’ll start slow, get that pussy purring,” he teases, his breath hot against your ear.

His cock drags against your walls, unhurried, and you shiver as he finds that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

“Right there,” you gasp, your voice hitching as your body tightens around him.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he groans, his arm tightening just enough to make your head swim in the most delicious way.

With a growl, he picks up his pace, pounding into you with enough force to get your body jolting against his. The rug beneath you rubs raw at your knees, each wet slap of his cock driving into your soaked pussy sending ripples of heat through your core.

Javier watches the way your body reacts to him from the viewfinder across the way. “That’s it, nena,” he clenches his teeth, his own release building as he claims you over and over again. His large fingers move from your hips down to toy with your clit. “Take it all. Take every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your hands shoot up to grip Javier’s arm, manicured nails biting into his flesh and leaving streaks of angry red lines down the muscled curve. The sting only fuels him, a feral satisfaction curling in his chest as you claw desperately for purchase.

Drool slips from the corner of your lips, pooling in the crease of his elbow, and he can’t help but smile smugly at the camera, his ego swelling alongside his cock. He’s unraveling you, making you fall apart so completely that you’re losing control—going stupid for his cock.

The slick sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, drowning out the crackling fire. You’re soaking him, your pussy so wet that the coarse hairs at the base of his cock are drenched, shining with your mixed juices.

He tightens his grip around your throat, your voice reduced to breathy, incoherent gasps. The pressure is perfect, the lack of air sending your senses spiraling as he pounds into you with reckless abandon, fingers relentless against your puffy clit.

It’s enough to coax your submission further, and he feels your slick walls start to quake around him. Your pussy flutters, gripping him so tightly it takes everything in him not to lose control right then.

“I—” You try to speak, but your words dissolve into an unintelligible cry as your orgasm slaps you right in the face.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Javier growls, his voice low and rough. He drives into you harder, faster, the head of his cock hitting that devastatingly deep spot that only he has been able to touch. Your eyes roll back, your cunt clenching him like a vice.

Your body trembles on the edge of euphoria and exhaustion. You lift your hand to tap out, but before you can, his own climax barrels through him like an angry bull.

His hips snap wildly as he spills into you. Hot spurts of cum fill you, thick and endless, his curses mixing with your cries as your body trembles uncontrollably.

The second he loosens his hold on your throat, air rushes back into your lungs, and with it comes a blinding, second wave of pleasure.

“Ah—fuck me!” you yelp, your body spasming as an intense pressure bursts inside you. Liquid heat sprays out of your pussy, soaking his lap and the carpet beneath you.

You fall forward, about to collapse, but Javier catches you, holding you close for a moment, his own body shaking as he fights to catch his breath.

The sticky warmth of your release and his cum pooling between your thighs has him grinning like a devil. “Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he pants, pulling out slowly, hissing at the tight drag of your walls around him.

Gently, he lowers you forward, your cheek pressing against the soft carpet. He goes to caress you, but your body twitches, still caught in the aftershocks, and you let out a weak, incoherent whimper.

“Too much. Don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me.”

He laughs, a low, heady sound, still lightheaded from his own climax. “Whatever you say,” he mutters, reaching for the camera. He adjusts the viewfinder, pointing it at your wrecked body bent over in front of the fireplace.

“C’mon, nena,” he coaxes. “Roll over for me. Gotta get a good shot of my cum dripping out of this perfect pussy.”

His vulgar words make your clit tingle but you know you can’t go for another round right now. Or any time soon, really.

With a soft huff, you roll onto your back, spreading your legs wide despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Tears of pleasure still cloud your vision as you gaze up at him, your chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

The camera captures everything—your swollen, glistening folds, the obscene trail of his cum trickling from your hole, evidence of how thoroughly he’s claimed you.

A lewd gurgling sound fills the air as the thick, creamy fluid bubbles out of you, sliding down to smear across your puckered entrance.

Javier is transfixed, his cock twitching despite his exhaustion. The urge to stuff his spend back into you with his fingers is almost overwhelming, but he reels it in. You’ve tapped out, and he respects your limits.

“So fucking hot,” he murmurs, his voice reverent as he watches. “Blow a kiss to the camera, baby.”

You smile weakly, giggling through your exhaustion. Licking your lips slowly, you pucker up and blow a kiss toward the lens, finishing with a playful, fucked-out wink.

The action is pure lust and sweetness combined, and he lets out a satisfied hum before finally stopping the recording.

“My girl, you did so well,” Javier murmurs, his voice soft and full of admiration. His praise seeps into your skin like balm, soothing you with the warmth of his presence.

He reaches for the couch pillows and the throw blanket, crafting a cozy nest right there on the floor by the fire.

He doesn’t care that you’re both sticky with sweat and the remnants of your passion— all he cares about is making you comfortable.

Feeling the fog of pleasure begin to lift, you roll onto your side, your body aching in the best way possible, reaching for him instinctively.

Javi doesn’t hesitate; he scoops you up with ease, settling you on his chest. Your head rests between his pecs, rising and falling with his steady breaths. His calloused fingers trail up and down your naked back, a calming rhythm that lulls you into serenity.

“I can’t believe I squirted,” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest. “Isn’t that…you know…piss? Shouldn’t we be in the shower right now?”

The question pulls a laugh from deep within him, a sound so rich and full that it vibrates through his chest and onto your cheek. “Eh,” he says, shrugging lazily. “Doesn’t really matter. What I do know is that I’m so damn proud of you, baby. I know the tape is goin’ to be fuckin’ gold.” His tone drips with adoration, each word laced with pride.

“But if it makes you feel better, we can always get back in the tub.”

You hum in response, nuzzling into the curve of his chest and letting your lips wander, pressing soft kisses over his golden skin. “That sounds really good, actually,” you murmur, your voice still laced with a dreamy haze. “But I don’t think I can walk.”

He lets out another laugh, his arms tightening around you. “I can carry you,” he offers, ever the gentleman, even now.

“Or,” you counter with a playful grin, trailing kisses up to his collarbone and then his jaw, “we could stay here, take a quick power nap by the fire, and then…” You pause, your lips brushing his as you whisper, “I can ride you.”

Javier groans, the sound low and full of mock exasperation. “You’re definitely trying to kill me.”

Your laughter mingles with his as you capture his lips in a kiss, slow and unhurried. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined by the warmth of the fire. His hands cradle your face as yours slide into his hair, fingers weaving through the dark strands.

The kiss deepens, turning languid and exploratory, a perfect blend of tenderness and desire.

With you in his arms, he feels whole, like every piece of you was made to fit into his. Time seems to stretch and stop, the crackling fire and the soft hum of your breaths the only soundtrack to your moment.

Here, in his embrace, you’re not just his lover; you’re his everything.

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hometoursandotherstuff · 9 days ago

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Brand new construction, 2024 small ranch style, open concept contemporary in Grand Junction, CO. 2bds, 2ba, 2,040 sq ft, $1.6m. I don't know who designed this, but according to the listing, it is an entertainer's dream. It even comes with a stripper pole in the living room.

Walk thru a narrow hall (not even a closet?). The floors are marble with the heating underneath. The sliding glass doors on the right are to the garage. Who wants to see into the garage?

The first thing you see is one huge room with a tiny kitchen (they're calling it "cozy"). I don't even see a fridge, unless it's the small door next to the stove. (The listing said it's ideal for preparing quick meals.)

The upper cabinets are ridiculously high. There's the stripper pole on the right.

There's no fireplace, but there is a half stone wall. Keep bearing in mind that they want $1.6m for this. Is that ceiling neon? What a pain if it starts burning out.

Sunken into the floor is a 10 person hot tub. Can you imagine swinging around, losing the grip on that pole and flying into the hot tub?

There's a regular flat screen TV and what appears to be a multi-screen TV, as well.

The primary bedroom has 2 closets, but no walk-in dressing room. ($1.6m!) It's a plain room, no fireplace, nothing.

I hope there's a shower across from the sinks, b/c there isn't one in the tub. More than likely, it's the toilet.

Bedroom #2. Plain, lackluster room with nothing architecturally interesting. ($1.6m!)

The garage has that neon ceiling and although it has 2 doors out front, it will fit 6 cars or, as the listing says, provide storage.

And, it also features a basketball hoop, so you can't really fill it up with stuff if you want to play.

Behind the house there's another garage door. I don't know if they're going to put them in, but right now, there's no driveway, patio, or plantings. ($1.6m!)

The lot is 1.65 acres. The buyer will also have the option to subdivide the property.

The development plans include 11 duplexes, so the buyer will have the only single family home. I hate this so much and I can't believe the price.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/2908-Kennedy-Ave-Grand-Junction-CO-81504/13953108_zpid/

#new construction #modern construction #stone homes #modern architecture #entertainer house #houses #house tours #home tour

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izvmimi · 1 year ago

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our time - izuku x reader

cw: minors dni, fem!reader, reader implied to be a hero & high school sweetheart, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative sex, public sex, hot tub sex, shower sex, sex toy use, safe word use, rapid shifts between humor, smut, and hurt/comfort, lots of cheesy jokes tbh, deku is a little bit sassy, bakugou and shinsou have unnamed female partners, baby mention. summary: you and izuku share a yearly tradition. a/n: i'm reposting this hella self-indulgent selfship fic because i can!

“This is a lot of packing for a two day trip,” Izuku teases, as you hand him your overstuffed suitcase, the same dark green typical of his merchandise. He places it next to his noticeably lighter one, which coincidentally is a deep purple and has your Hero name plastered all over it.

“Yeah, but I’m guessing you want to see me in as many outfits as possible in a 48 hour period, right?” you tease back, tapping him gently on the nose. He leans in as he presses the rear door close button to the SUV, then grins.

In a low voice, he whispers, “that’s quite a bit of clothing for me to tear off. Are you sure?”

Your face warms and you hate that you never win at this game, but try to come up with something quick to say.

“I’ll be swiping your card indiscriminately to replace anything you ruin this year,” you add, eyes lowering to where your finger is prodding his chest. His eyes seem to twinkle.

“Sounds like I need to make more money then.”

He’s won this round. The warmth spreads to your ears and reflexively you hit his shoulder. His grin widens and you slip from his gaze to run to the passenger side of the car. No more time for banter.

“We’re gonna be late, Izuku!"

Bakugou has given you clear instructions to pick up the keys to your shared vacation home between 6 to 7 pm and will give you absolutely no room for tardiness. You anticipate that he’ll make all manners of disgusted facial expressions when you show up to his place, given that he knows exactly what you’ll be doing for the next 48 hours, and you are still trying to decide whether or not you should play along and double down or admit that you’re a little embarrassed ever since you started this tradition.

Or at least that you’re embarrassed your closest friends are aware of what exactly this tradition entails.

Izuku, on the other hand, never has any shame it seems. If anything, he’s a little overeager for this “retreat” this year, and it’s almost certainly because the past few weeks at work were nothing short of a nightmare for him. Catastrophes that seemed to only prop up as far as humanly possible from you seemed to be the order of the day recently, and you hadn’t had time for dedicated physical intimacy in a while, let alone even see him between missions. The only thing that made it easier to tolerate his absence was that you fell asleep so fast these days due to exhaustion that you barely noticed his side of the bed stayed empty the entire night.

As he drives, possibly a little too fast and somewhat recklessly (frankly unexpected for a person like him), he holds your hand with varying levels of tightness as though he’s playing with the feel of your hands in his - remembering it, reacquainting himself. He doesn’t say much yet but you can tell by the look in his eye and the twitch in his lips (controlling his urge to talk under his breath), that he’s daydreaming. You have an idea what of.

Pervert.

“What are you thinking of, Izuku?” you inquire after a moment. The goal of the statement is to disarm him which only works half the time.

“Sex,” he replies, bluntly. He doesn’t turn to look at you, focusing on the road carefully, but his fingers tighten again around yours as you pull away indignantly.

“Stop!” you hiss and he laughs loudly. Every time he sneaks a glance at your flustered expression for the next few moments, he breaks out into another bout of laughter and you can’t help but smile too.

“People need to know how ridiculous you are sometimes,” you murmur. “I should expose you, honestly. Let them know who their hero really is.”

“I thought you hated sharing me with everyone,” he says. You meet his sideways glance as he turns, hand over hand, into Bakugou’s driveway. You consider his words for a moment, then sigh.

“I guess you’re right. I do.”

The car slows to a stop and he parks then faces you in the car for a moment. Sometimes you wonder how he manages to do this - look at you every so often like it’s truly the first time he’s ever seeing you, even if you’ve known each other since you were high-schoolers. He places a hand on your knee as you turn towards him.

“I’m yours, okay? Not just during our birthday vacation but all the time,” he reminds you. You twist your mouth to the side. There’s something about Izuku that indulges the more immature parts of you, and he handles them all the same.

“Understood?” he insists.

You nod, pretend-reluctantly, and he whispers, “Good girl,” before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Things have been hard recently, you think, but when he’s close to you like this, everything you go through feels worth it. There’s another kiss that makes it to your lips, and perhaps your arms make their way around his neck and-

“I swear to God if you guys start to fuck on my property, I will tear both of you a new one.”

With Bakugou’s irritated voice calling out to you, there’s a flash of the driveway lights that nearly blinds you, as though you are teenagers being caught getting too close in the driveway of your parents’ home.

Izuku steps out of the car first and Bakugou throws a set of keys at him before flashing you an annoyed look. You give him a cheeky raise of the eyebrows to acknowledge him similarly, pretending not to notice the fact that he’s not wearing a shirt, and look around him to see one of your favorite people make her way out of the house from behind him.

She’s wrapped haphazardly in a shawl and you laugh as she hugs you, able to tell she clearly just threw those clothes on ten seconds ago, if the breathiness in her voice and the flush in her cheeks is not enough to make it obvious.

“Please do not poke my eye out with your titties, I’m begging you love.” She grins widely as she squeezes you tighter.

“You don’t need your eyes to suck cock, do you?” she whispers into your ear. You roll your eyes.

“Can you ever be civilized?”

“Good question,” Bakugou asks, but not before slapping his wife’s ass on the way back into his house. “Don’t crash on your way there, Midoriya, I don’t want to pick up your shifts.”

“That’s his way to say ‘drive safely’!” your friend translates as she gives Izuku a quick, slightly more chaste hug, then jogs backwards back into the house where Bakugou is waiting. “Happy birthday! Let me know when you guys get there!”

“We will! Thanks!” you wave.

When you turn, Izuku is already getting back into the car. It doesn’t take long for both of you immediately to burst into laughter.

“Kacchan is such a hypocrite. As if we don’t see the bite marks all over his chest.”

“And __’s neck. Embarrassing.”

You tease but it’s cute to see them so happy. Of all your friends, you think they’ve been stable the longest, and their relationship simply fell into place. It helps you believe that perhaps things will be good for you long-term as well.

As if Midoriya can read your wistful thoughts, he picks up your hand and kisses the knuckles idly for a moment as he continues to drive, the highway tapering off into a smaller paved road as night settles in. Both of you are tired from the week, and opt for peaceful silence and music played at a low volume. After all, you will have plenty of uninterrupted time shortly.

---

You’re not sure when you dozed off exactly.

Izuku nudges you gently to wake you then carries you out of the car with one arm and produces a couple dark tendrils from Blackwhip with the other to pull the luggage behind you.

“I can walk,” you murmur, although you like the idea of being carried, and hope he insists, which he does, and you nuzzle closer into his chest, taking in the scent of his cologne.

There’s a small gate outside of the cabin that is truly underestimated by the word; rather, it is a large and lavish three-winged property, U-shaped, and fairly secluded in the forest and trees. A section, the rightmost one, belongs to you and features the name ‘Midoriya’ on a welcome mat in front of the entryway.

Izuku takes in an exaggerated deep breath as he opens the door, and excitedly exclaims,

“Finally. Peace and quiet.”

You try to stifle a laugh as he sets you down, and stretch out a hand for him to toss you his phone and drop in a special safe hanging from the side of the wall along with your own. There’s a preset timer set for 48 hours (except for emergencies) on its display that you contemplate before confirming.

“It’s silly that we do this!” you call out, feeling the disconnection to the outside world immediately the second the safe beeps to signal that it’s locked. Yet it’s necessary, because both of you are bad at blocking out the outside world and simply relaxing when needed.

Izuku steps out of the master bedroom, completely undressed aside from a pair of boxer briefs which he is also actively in the process of shedding. You take in his body, impressive in its shape and decorated with scars and freckles, and almost miss what he says.

“What’s silly is that you’re fully clothed when it’s hot tub time.”

Your eyes widen and you blink a few times in succession as you watch him strip to nothing, and suddenly you forget that you’re exhausted. Swallowing hard, you make your way towards him, but really past him, towards the room where your packed clothing lies, and he intercepts you on the way there, grinning widely as he towers over you.

“I need to get my bathing suit,” you pout, knowing very well you’re not getting past him.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he lays kisses on your neck that immediately disarm you. You can feel your body sink into him, as you make soft sounds of protest but soon you’re in his arms again and he’s carrying you to the hot tub, lips connected with every step.

…

The night continues and you sink deep onto Izuku’s cock, heat rising around and inside you. Your fingers cling to his broad shoulders as you slide onto him repeatedly, half-lidded eyes gazing down at him. He aids your descent, gliding you onto him as he worships your bosom with his tongue, laving a different wetness along your nipples and the curve of your breast, sucking at the sensitive skin.

“God, I needed this,” he whimpers as he buries his face into your neck. He cums, holding you tightly, filling you for the first time that night. The splash of water as he moves you so that your back presses against him and he can kiss the nape of your neck is somewhat soothing to your ears, as is the sound of his breathing as he holds you close.

You need him more - always, really. You revel in the way he plays with your hair and runs his calloused hands along your skin.

You also revel further in the way he dives deep between your legs, after you’ve sat together in the tub and let stress melt away, and after you’ve fucked a second time in the shower, your back pressed against the warm tile, and his hands supporting the weight of your thighs, steady despite the slippery water running over your bodies. He sucks your clit and blows softly against your folds, excited by the tensing of your thighs against his head and the relentless moans.

“‘Zuku, it’s too much…”

It’s never too much, because you can always handle more of him, and he eats you out till you cry and cum all over again, messy on his face, wrists in the palm of his broad hand. He kisses your belly as you practically convulse and come down from your high.

“Wanna rest, baby?” he asks. It’s hard for you to speak as your head spins, so instead you curl up against him. He takes it as a yes.

You fall asleep in his arms, beating hearts pressed close together. There will be more in the AM.

---

The smell of breakfast wakes you before a gentle ache in your thighs. As you shift and reorient yourself from the unfamiliar surroundings, you can hear Izuku make his way in the room with an impossibly loaded tray of breakfast foods he sets precariously on a coffee table across from the California King bed.

“Rise and shine, love.”

Before you can shift, Izuku makes his way on top of you, laughing as you wriggle under him.

“You’re so freaking heavy,” you hiss, but your arms make their way around his bare chest and you inhale his scent. His natural smell is comforting in its familiarity and despite the fact that you’ve been skin to skin nearly all of last night, you crave more closeness. His voice rumbles against your skin as he holds you tightly.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks.

“Like a baby,” you reply.

“Perfect. We should have breakfast,’ he insists. “We could go on a short hike and watch some of the birds in this area.”

“Mm, definitely.”

You kiss his forehead and satisfied, he rolls off of you too quickly for you to reach and slap his ass. He gives you a cheeky look and you crinkle your nose at him first before you decide to get out of bed.

You slip your feet into warm fuzzy sandals and head to the bathroom to brush your teeth first. A blanket is wrapped around your naked body, because you don’t like how the floor-to-ceiling glass windows make it easy for anyone (anyone who dares to anyway) to peep at you. Izuku is at the second sink at the far end, rubbing day-old stubble on his chin to decide if he wants to shave.

“Keep it,” you ask him as you press toothpaste onto your toothbrush. In response, he scratches his chin against yours as you bat him away.

“Maybe I will.”

Breakfast is filled with chatter and laughter, realizing you haven’t had enough time to really speak to each other in the past few months, despite living in the same house. You hold his hand as you walk up higher and higher up the mountain, clad in shirts and cargo shorts and too much sunscreen, bellies full but not heavy.

Izuku has a guide in his hand that you cannot fathom when he had the time to read that identifies more than a couple of creatures that soar above in the early morning, and you get surprisingly good pictures, particularly when Izuku uses his Quirk to get you high into the treetops for a better vantage point.

You do some foraging as well, of different fruits and flowers to add to your scrapbook, petals to press later -

Much like you find Izuku pressing into you shortly after, shrouded in the denser part of the brush, away from the shy fauna. All you can feel is him, all you can see is him raised above you, and the caws of birds that are probably embarrassed to witness how easily you drip like sap around him.

“..h-harder, Izuku,” you demand, scratching at his neck, his chest, his back, anything to communicate your feral desire. He bites your shoulder as he grunts in response, driving as much cock into you as he can muster, and you get what you asked for.

---

“I can’t believe you convinced me to roll around in the dirt with you.”

You gently admonish him with a kick of your leg, sending bathwater splashing at his face. He grips your leg and straightens it, laughing as you give him a slightly surprised look.

“As opposed to everything else you’d be willing to do for me?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your ankle. You can feel heat spread to your neck as he kisses further but stops just short of your knee, and then wades from his end of the bathtub to yours, pulling you to his side.

“When did you get so cocky?” you flick more water at him with your fingers as he grins. Your bodies shift in position, until your back rests against his chest and he’s holding your breasts in your hands, grazing your nipples with his thumbs.

“Way back when I finally got your attention.”

You turn suddenly to kiss him then pause. His lips are parted and soft and he looks somewhat surprised by your sudden movement. There’s something that’s said between you two without words, something that whispers I’ve missed you despite the fact that you and he have always been here.

“Do I still have it?” he whispers suddenly, as his lips ghost yours.

“Always.”

The scent of rose and jasmine fills your nostrils and love fills your heart.

---

“I’m surprised even though this is the third time we’ve been here, I never get tired of this place,” you say as Izuku lays his head in your lap. Izuku might as well be something like a cat or a bunny at this rate - you can practically feel him purr with the gentle scratches of your nails against his scalp, and his hand squeezes your thigh gently whenever you stop. “I still don’t think we’ve seen everything,” you continue.

“Probably not,” he agrees. His wavy hair is slightly damp still, and the rise and fall of his chest is slow and steady. He’s staring up at the ceiling and you can tell his mind, for once in a long while, is almost completely clear.

Almost.

You can’t lie that you haven’t been a little worried about your phone messages and other updates you’ve been missing while you’ve been engrossed with Izuku, and you can tell he feels similarly, a little bit of guilt settling in. It’s the same for you. Work, work, work. That’s what life has been like between you two as you’ve climbed your respective career ladders, trying to save the world as best you can. Times like this are rare and need to be protected as something as precious as people’s lives.

“Oh my God, do you remember the last time we were here and your nosy self thought it was a smart idea to start exploring the other wings?”

Izuku’s eyes widen as he recalls.

“Fuck.”

You start to laugh and kick your legs and he gets up, shaking his head.

“Shinsou told me the next time I trespassed he would have me shit myself in public. I hear him in my nightmares sometimes, honestly.”

You laugh even louder, doubled over as the image of Izuku, suddenly dangling from the ceiling by his ankle the second he passed through one door too many.

“The way you called my nameeeeeee!” you cackle as he pouts. “You were swinging there like a trapped animal!”

He purses his lips at you but you’re too busy laughing your ass off to notice, and eventually he ends up laughing too, falling back into your lap. His hands reach up to press your cheeks together.

“You know, it’s weird how many ropes and traps and harnesses are just littered around… Your friends are into some kinky shit,” he points out. Remembering many a midnight conversation about Shinsou and your friend’s ventures into shibari, you simply have to agree.

“I don’t know, I guess she likes being tied up.”

Izuku shoots you another glance, and you can see the glint of mischief in his eye.

“Do you want me to tie you up more?”

You tap his forehead with two fingers. “If I were into that, you’d know by now.”

He pretend-bites your fingers the next time you poke him. “Things can change.”

“Fair,” you reply. You pause, and then you look at him suspiciously. “You have ropes in your bag, don’t you?”

Izuku laughs frankly at the accusation. “I actually don’t, but I’ll keep that in the back of my mind… Plus Blackwhip is always handy.”

You can feel your face grow hot and he pats your face teasingly.

“I have other things packed, though.” Izuku grins.

That’s how you end up, spine curled into a C and legs raised with ankles by your head, panting and trembling as Izuku intermittently presses a vibrator against your clit.

“Come on, one more for me, baby,” he pleads, kissing the sweat on your brow as he holds your wrists above your head with one hand and torments your pussy with the other. Your voice comes out in soft cries as you try to recover from muscles clenching around nothing every time he makes you cum, swallowing the noises that slip out of your throat in orgasm with a kiss.

“I d-don’t have any more!” you cry, tears at the corner of your eyes. He gives you a long look and switches off the vibrator, and the last few pulses threaten to send you over the edge again. You’re too tired to wriggle out of the position and he doesn’t move you, keeping you in place.

“Temperature?” he asks.

You consider for a moment despite your lust-filled haze.

“Hot,” you finally decide. He smiles then bites your lip before switching the vibrator back on.

---

“I don’t want to leave,” you say first.

The two of you watch the stars around a small bonfire and share bites of cake that is slightly too sweet for his liking and slightly too heavy for your liking but somehow neither of you can get enough of. He says nothing but nuzzles into your neck more as you cuddle.

It’s surprisingly quiet and melancholy now, as if just a couple hours ago you weren’t screaming his name, as if his thumbs weren’t just dug in the spaces where you back and your glutes meet as he gave you relentless backshots.

“I wish we could stay forever like this,” you continue, then you laugh. “But you’d get sick of me, wouldn’t you, Izuku?”

“Never.”

You turn to look at him. He sounds a little bit too serious. He’s not looking at you but at the fire ahead and you worry that he’s worrying about facing tomorrow yet again. Izuku has once told you that it’s not that he’s no longer nervous, but that the anxiety is less and less able to prevent him from acting the way his heart tells him to as time goes on.

His legs move first. Always. And yet, it doesn’t mean the fear is no longer not there. It creeps when the rush of adventure is no longer able to drown it out.

It creeps when he holds you like this.

“You’d get tired of me first,” he adds as he fixes his gaze onto you.

“You know that that’s ridiculous,” you giggle. But he isn’t laughing and the crackle of the fire is suddenly too loud.

“It isn’t. There’s a lot you can have that I can’t give you all the time.” He says. Your heart starting to race, you pull away from him just slightly and his hold on you releases just enough for you to turn and really face him.

“I don’t want anything else,” you insist.

“You should,” he says. The tone of his voice is a little quieter now, and then he repeats himself louder. “You should want someone who is present.”

“I want you.”

He doesn’t say anything else because he knows you will argue away anything he tells you. So instead he sighs, not wanting to ruin the last few hours of vacation.

“Someday, it’ll just be this,” he says, “and it’ll be more than enough.” He kisses the top of your head. “I promise.”

You believe him. You know what he means by this intrinsically, as though you were in his head. A space for just the two of you and nothing to worry about. Where you can grow old together, where you are no longer weighed down by what you have yet to achieve and what you have already accomplished.

---

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear.

You know he does. You know, and if for even a second you forget, he will tell you over and over and over again.

Your fingers intertwine with his and you sigh, back arching as you open up for him. You fit together perfectly, again and again and again. Forever.

There’s a deep flush in his cheeks as he whispers words of praise into your skin. Another year passes and your love only continues to grow, tended to or not.

“I love you too, Izuku. Happy birthday.”

---

“The second my phone turns on, she’s gonna call me, watch,” you joke, as you open up the phone safe. 48 hours are up, and yes your legs are wobbly, but the red string of Fate that ties you two no longer frays. As expected, there is a flurry of texts that blow up your phone, and as Izuku prepares the car, you try to see which one you can respond to first.

I set the timer by the way 👶🍼. May the odds ever be in your favor.

gtfoooooo 💀, you text back to Shinsou’s favorite rope bunny. But as you watch your husband disappear into the distance, you think that it might not be so bad to have a little one.

“So how many?”

The expected phone call arrives while the two of you are back on the road.

“How many what?” you ask suspiciously. Izuku glances at you with curiosity.

“Orgasms? What else?” she clarifies, and you’re immediately flustered, practically able to see the mischievous smile on her face. Izuku hears it through the end of the receiver and laughs, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

“Izuku, do not answer-”

“Whatever Bakugou’s capable of plus one,” he says loudly, leading in.

“Bullshit!” your friend shouts back, and you can hear her already shuffling to tell Bakugou and you sigh.

“I’m hanging up,” you announce before an argument begins.

“Why babe?” Izuku whines, but the phone clicks off and he laughs even louder. “He’s gonna be thinking about that all night.”

“Don’t pick up the phone,” you say, but a smile forms on your face. You look forward and the sun is setting on the horizon as you drive next to Izuku.

It was a nice weekend. You’ll have many more to come.

Together.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku smut #izuku midoriya smut #deku smut #pro hero deku smut #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes

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dewdropdinosaur · 10 days ago

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Smutmas Day 6 - For Goodness (Snow) Flake

Lucifer x Reader Summary: The annual molt has hit again, leaving Lucifer absolutely miserable. Luckily for him, his girlfriend has a solution. Warnings: Handjob, preening, use of names(ducky), sub/dom dynamics if you squint, cum, water play, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Requested by the pretty and perfect @primsgirl89

The grand halls of the palace Lucifer called home were always shrouded in a sense of elegance. Lavish, meticulously designed, and exuding an air of untouchable regality—it was the perfect home for the King of Hell. Yet today, Lucifer Morningstar found himself in a state far from his usual composed glory. Well, at least in more disarray than what might have been considered normal.

The annual molting had started a week ago, and his prideful wings, normally a source of his striking authority, were now a source of endless irritation. Feathers littered his otherwise pristine floor, and the itchiness was maddening. He groaned as he tried to reach over his shoulder to scratch the base of his wing joint but to no avail.

Y/N stood in the doorway, hesitant but determined. Her shy disposition usually made it challenging for her to speak up, especially around Lucifer, whose presence alone could send shivers down anyone’s spine. But seeing him like this—frustrated and uncomfortable—she felt a tug of sympathy and a little courage bubble to the surface.

"Luci," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

His crimson gaze flicked to her, his brow arching as he struggled to maintain his usual calm demeanor. “Yes, ducky?”

“You seem... uncomfortable. Would you let me help?”

His lips curled into a smirk, one that held both curiosity and amusement. “Help? And how do you plan to help me with this?” He gestured to his wings, shedding yet another feather as if to punctuate his point.

“Well,” she fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, looking anywhere but at him, “a hot bath might help soothe the itchiness. And I could... I mean, if you'd like, I could help preen your wings. It might make things more manageable.”

Lucifer blinked, momentarily stunned by the offer. It was rare for anyone to approach him with such sincerity, let alone someone so gentle. After a moment, he smiled—less teasing, more genuine.

“Alright, that…that actually sounds nice.”

——————————————————————

The bathroom was a vision of opulence, with a marble tub large enough to swim in and golden fixtures of birds that shimmered under the soft glow of the chandelier.

Y/N busied herself adjusting the water temperature, her cheeks flushed as the steam began to rise. This would be interesting, only about seven months into their relationship, she had never been quite this up and personal with the King of Hell himself.

Lucifer watched her with amusement from a nearby chair, his long legs crossed as his eyes traced her every move. She was a curious creature, timid yet caring in a way that stirred something deep within him.

“Are you certain you wanna do this?” he asked, his voice teasing but soft.

She glanced at him, her cheeks pinker than before. “I-I think so. It’s just... wings, right? Nothing too difficult.”

He chuckled, standing gracefully to shed his jacket and shirt, revealing the broad expanse of his back and the full glory of his wings, even in their molting state. His chest and stomach were equally as strong looking, shapely even. But what caught her attention the most was the carved V-line down to his very large—nope. Keep it together. Y/N’s breath hitched as she took in the sight, but she quickly turned back to the bath, willing herself to focus.

Once the water was ready, Lucifer sank into the tub with a sigh, the heat immediately easing some of his discomfort. He leaned back, his wings draped over the edges of the tub, and closed his eyes.

“This was such a good idea,” he murmured.

Y/N smiled softly, glad to see him relax. After a few minutes, he tilted his head toward her, one eye opening lazily.

“Oh yeah, right. Umm, you’ll wanna step closer and pluck one-by-one.”

She nodded, sitting on a stool behind him, her heart pounding. She reached out hesitantly, her fingers grazing the base of his wings. They were warm and surprisingly soft, even in their current state. She began to carefully remove the loose feathers, her movements gentle and precise.

Lucifer’s eyes drifted shut again, a low hum of approval rumbling from his chest. “You have quite the touch,” he said, his voice velvety but clearly enjoying the individualized attention

Y/N’s cheeks burned at his praise, but she didn’t stop. She worked methodically, smoothing the remaining feathers and untangling the ones that had become ruffled.

As her fingers brushed along the sensitive inner edges, Lucifer’s breath hitched. He bit back a groan, unwilling to let her know just how much her touch was affecting him. But she noticed the way his muscles tensed slightly under her hands.

“Am I hurting you?” she asked, worried.

His eyes roled by into his head, choking out a small sentence. “Far from it, ducky.”

She did, her shyness giving way to focus as she tended to him. The once-pristine bathroom now bore traces of discarded feathers, but neither of them paid it any mind. All that Lucifer could pay attention to was the warmth of her touch, how soft her hands felt on his wings. How good they might feel somewhere else.

His body tenses, his breath getting caught in his throat, as she works out another knot in his wings; unaware of his thoughts. Or at least he thinks she is unaware. As Lucifer closes his eyes and lays his head back against the marble, he feels the water stir.

His eyes slowly open to see the movement, only to see her hand drifting lower into the water. A low, guttural moan creeps past his lips as Y/N starts to pump his throbbing member, his hips instinctively bucking toward her touch. Her touch is so delicate, almost feather-light, but hits all the right places. Pumping up and down, as her other hand still continues to preen, his senses become overloaded the moment her lips come to kiss his neck.

He's almost lost for words, his mind clouded by a primal desire. He can barely think straight anymore, all his focus is centered on Y/n and what she is doing.

“Fuck ducky, just like that—“

Y/N’s ministrations are slow and deliberate, working for her reward. Every movement is just barely on the edge of what Lucifer is moaning and begging for, practically humping into her hand. The way his cheeks turn a beautiful shade of red; his hands coming to grip the edge of the tub till his knuckles are white, it’s not too long before he is close.

“Just relax…Luci…please?”

It’s all too much and soon he’s painting the tub with hot thick ropes of cum with a loud moan, floating to the surface to stain the water. Slowly working him through his high, Y/N removes her hand after a moment. Lips still hovering over his neck at the pulse point, voice low and soft.

“Do you feel better now, Luci?”

God’s did he ever.

#hazbin hotel fandom #romance #answered #vizziepop #request #lucifer imagine #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer x reader smut #smutmas #dino's smutmas #the things i would do to him #the things i would do to this man #help me this fandom has a hold on my soul

54 notes · View notes

sinnabarmoth · 27 days ago

Text

Worthy of Devotion (3/9)

Pairing: Sea God|Rafayel x Worshipper|Reader (fem)

Summary: Reader learns more about Rafayel and can't help asking some more personal questions. Meanwhile Rafayel is learning new things about human peculiarities both funny and concerning.

Content Warnings: Self worth issues caused by religious trauma.

Length: 3k

Chapters: (1) (2) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9)

Read on AO3

~~~

The next day was more of the same. You woke up, made yourself from breakfast and started cleaning a new part of the temple. You had decided to work on the bedroom this time. The main issue was all the dust and you ended up tying a handkerchief around your face to help keep yourself from sneezing.

You had also finally entered the attached bathing room. Yesterday you had just availed yourself to the communal toilets on the main level since that was where you had spent most your day. The bathing room was in much the same state as the bedroom, covered in a fine layer of dust. The main problem was the large tub in the center of the room. In any other circumstance it would have been lovely, the large basin cut into solid marble, you could fit at least four people inside easily. But over the years a layer of moss and fungus had sprouted inside, coating the marble like a carpet. That took a lot of scraping and shoveling and scrubbing to get clean.

You were knelt in the center of the tub, trying to get the green ring stain out of the marble when Rafayel wandered in. “There you are,” he sat at the edge of the tub. “Keeping busy?”

“Someone has to repair this temple and I’m the only one here, so yes.” you wiped the sweat from your brow but only managed to smear more dirt and grime against it. “I assume you’re here to continue working on the journal?”

“Yes. But you are going to need to clean yourself up first. You’ll end up dirtying the pages with hands like that.” he picked up one of your hands and inspected the grime caked under your nails. “In fact, have you bathed at all since coming here?”

“I have rinsed…” you muttered, “But I haven’t really had the time to--”

“Up. Now.” he pulled you up and out of the tub. “You are not doing any more work until you’ve bathed. To be perfectly honest, you smell rather bad too. I let it slide yesterday because we were working but there is no excuse for this now.”

“Alright. I’ll go down to the baths--”

“What are you talking about? You just cleaned this one, use it.”

“If I use this one then I have to carry buckets of water up here to fill it. It’s just easier to go to the baths downstairs.”

Rafayel rolled his eyes and reached towards the head of the tub. There was a pipe over the basin but you saw no pump with which to call up water from. Behind the pipe was a large smooth gem that he put his hand over. He muttered something foreign to your ears and suddenly water began to fill the tub. Even more than that, steam was rising from it.

“But how--”

“A water gem.” he pointed to the gem behind the pipe. “Very rare. They provide unlimited water with the activation of certain phrases. “Calidum, for hot water. Frigus, for cold water. To get it to stop, say finis. Try it.”

You put your hand on the stone. “Frigus?”

There was a pause in the spray of water and when it returned you felt it was ice cold. You touched the stone again. “Calidum.” Another pause and hot water came out again. “Finis.” The water stopped. “Wow. Do you know how useful that would have been to know an hour ago when I was carrying buckets of water up here to scrub the floors?”

He smiled. “Well now you know. There should still be some soaps around here somewhere. Clean yourself up, I will be back.”

“Thank you.” You started the water again, going back and forth with the cold and hot to get it to a nice temperature and then sank in. When was the last time you had an honest to goodness hot bath? It was always such a hassle back home to get a hot bath all to yourself.

You let yourself relax, the feel of the hot water easing the pain in your joints and relaxing your muscles. Yes, you needed this. After a while of just soaking and enjoying the bath you picked up a rag and the soap and started cleaning yourself in earnest. You shouldn’t have been surprised by how nice the soap was but it still caught you off guard to smell something so pretty and floral. It smelled like plumerias and a whiff of coconut.

You were rinsing the suds away when the door banged open and Rafayel strode in again. You ducked under the water up to your neck, covering your body with your arms. “I’m still in here!”

“I figured you would be.” he didn’t seem perturbed by your nakedness or the clear panic you were exhibiting. “I brought fresh clothes. Those rags you’ve been wearing need a wash, if you still want to keep them that is.”

“Yes, thank you. You can leave now.” you curled into yourself, trying to hide your body more the closer he got.

“You’re awfully jumpy. What’s got into you?” he cocked an eyebrow up at you.

“I’m naked!”

“So?”

You swallowed back the urge to scream. “So I don’t want you seeing me naked. Please.”

“I assume this is one of those human peculiarities.” he shrugged. “The nude form is very natural, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You especially have a rather delectable form, from what I glanced when I came in at least.”

You were going to drown yourself in this tub. “Thanks. But I’d rather not wander around naked so freely. So can you please leave now so I can dry and dress?”

“Yes yes, I’m going.” he left the room. “We’re going to add these views on nudity to the book I hope you know. It’s ridiculous that you humans are so preoccupied with it.” He shouted from the bedroom.

“Got it.” you sighed, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes. “Gods give me strength.” you muttered.

“Strength for what?” Rafayel shouted again.

“That prayer wasn’t for you!” you snapped. So he really could here your prayers…great. You needed to be careful about what you said now.

After you had drained the tub and dried yourself off you picked up the bundle of clothes that Rafayel had left for you. It was a pair of loose pants and shirt made out of the same linens that he wore. There were little shells embroidered along the sleeves and a wave design along the thigh of the pants. They were simple working clothes, easy to move around in and lightweight.

When you left the bathing room you saw Rafayel packing more garments into the standing wardrobe. He turned back to you and smiled. “There, that looks much better.” he walked up to you and pulled you close. You froze as his face was buried in your hair. “Smell much better too. Now we can work without you smelling like dirt and sweat.”

“It wasn’t that bad!” you protested. Your resentment covered the sheer panic of his sudden embrace.

“It was. Come along, mudskipper. Time to get writing.” he pulled you to the sitting area of the bedroom.

“First I’m a grouper and now I’m a mudskipper. If you’re going to keep comparing me to fish can’t they at least be cute? Like an angelfish or even a starfish would sound nicer.”

“How about a clownfish?” he deposited you in one of the chairs.

“Do you enjoy mocking me?”

“What? Do you not think clownfish are cute?” he tossed you the book and sat down in the chair opposite you. “Now, where were we?”

You flipped open the book with a roll of your eyes. “Let me see, we had just finished discussing how the title of Sea God is passed down through generations and I have a note here about partners to the Sea God. I think we left off talking about unions and the powers that romantic partners had if any.”

“Right,” Rafayel cleared his throat, “It varies from person to person, some gods chose to have a partner with which they could entrust helping to rule over the Lemurians, in that way it was very strategic. Others were more driven by their desires and chose partners with their hearts. Sometimes partners are equal rulers with similar ruling authority, sometimes they are figure heads, but there is no set in stone responsibilities for the partner of the Sea God.”

“Interesting.” you started writing everything down. “And what about children? Is there any chance that progeny of the current Sea God may be chosen as the new god or is it entirely up to chance?”

“It is entirely up to chance. Children of current gods do not automatically inherit their parent’s title. I only know of one recorded instance in which one of the children of a past god was selected as the inheritor.”

Your pen paused. “Rafayel, do you have a partner?”

His eyes widened a fraction before he shook his head. “No. I do not.”

You didn’t know why but your heart did a pitter patter in your chest hearing that. “Then, do you plan on marrying for strategy or for love?”

“I don’t really have any plans right now.”

“Alright, let me just write that down. Current god, Rafayel, is not one to plan for the future.”

“Hey! You can’t write that down!” his face turned pink.

“I’m the one with the pen so--ah!” you held the pen back as Rafayel tried to grab it. “You’re the one who tasked me with writing this book so I get to write my findings!”

“No, you write what I tell you to write. Now give me the pen.” he made another swipe for it but you leapt out of your seat. “Are you disobeying me, clownfish?”

“Of course not. I would never dare disobey my god.” you handed the pen to him. “Here you are.”

“Thank you.”

“But I will be taking this.” you grabbed the book and took off out the door.

“Oh! I see how it is! My sweet clownfish is actually a slippery little eel!” he took off after you.

There was a part of you that screamed that you shouldn’t be doing this. Everything you had learned, everything you had been raised as told you that you shouldn’t have been disobeying and teasing your god like this. If any of the priests or priestesses could see your behavior you’d be put on floor scrubbing for a year, maybe ten. But they weren’t here. None of them had actually completed their pilgrimages. None of them had spoken to Rafayel. According to what they taught you, and according to your god, you were more worthy than any of them. No one was here to say otherwise. You could do whatever you wanted. And you felt like having a little fun, and the fact that it was at the expense of a god made it all the funnier.

You were flying down the stairs, a wide smile on your face as you ran. You could hear Rafayel gaining behind you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be caught or not.

You glanced over your shoulder to see how close he was and your foot hit a chunk of fallen ceiling. Your body pitched forward, gravity helping send you down the last couple of steps.

“Watch it!” you were caught by the waist and tugged backwards with force. You were tipping back instead and you landed with a thud on the stairs, Rafayel cushioning your fall. “Ow.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” you rolled off him. “Are you okay?”

“No. I think this is it for me. I’m weak, this is the end.” he threw an arm over his eyes. “The light shall need to choose a new Sea God now. I am to descend into the abyss. Tell my people I died heroically, saving one of my acolytes.”

You could tell he was being dramatic but you saw the way he winced as he sat up and the rock that he had landed on was painted a deep crimson at the point.

Rafayel looked at you, the humor on his face disappearing. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he waved a hand in front of your face, “Say something, you’re starting to worry me.”

“You…you’re bleeding.” you murmured, horrified that he had gotten injured saving you.

“Ah that,” he picked up the rock and tossed it away to a corner. “Don’t worry about that. I was only joking, I feel fine. A little sore between the shoulder blades but nothing to get worked up about.”

“I’m sorry.” you drew into yourself, pulling your knees close to your body. “I’m so sorry. You got hurt because of me. I’m sorry.”

“You would have gotten hurt worse if I let you fall. We really need to work on that balance of yours. You have about as much grace as a fish on a dock.” he smiled at you. When you did not return it he inched closer. He reached out as if to touch you and you flinched back. He eased away.

“You’re shaken from the fall. I get it.” he said slowly, as if trying to coax a skittish animal, “But I promise I’m fine. You don’t need to feel bad about it. Accidents happen.”

“I…I…” you glanced around and saw the book splayed out at the bottom of the stairs. You stood up, ignoring the pain in your foot as you hobbled down and recollected it. “I need to go.” You set the book on the bottom step and limped out of the temple.

“Where are you going?” Rafayel raced after you. “Your foot is scraped, if you get sand in it it will only make it worse.”

You ignored him, your body taking you down the steps and onto the beach. You kept going until you got the shore where the ocean lapped at the sand. You waded into the water up to your knees. The salt burned against your wound but you didn’t retreat, the pain helped to ground you. Staring straight ahead your vision tunneled as it tried in vain to see past the horizon line.

You hurt your god. Actually hurt him. And for what? Because you wanted to tease him a little? What right did you have? Was this a divine punishment? Fate reminding you of your place? A mortal poking fun at a deity like he was an old friend. No. There were lines for a reason. You couldn’t cross them. No one was ever meant to cross them.

“Come back inside,” you heard Rafayel’s voice behind you. “Your foot needs tending.”

“I shouldn’t be in there. I don’t belong in that temple or on this island. I’m not worthy. I need to leave. I need to--”

“By the tides, not this again.” Rafayel groaned and with an ease that surprised you he hefted you out of the water and started carrying you back to the temple. “Here I thought you were finally done with all that aggrandizing. One little tumble down some stairs and suddenly you think you need to throw yourself into the ocean. Those charlatans on the mainland really messed with your self worth in the name of worshiping me, didn’t they?”

“What--what are you--” you stammered as he marched you back into the temple. “Please! Put me down. I don’t--I can’t--”

“Shush.” he brought you into the kitchen and set you down on the table. “Stay there.”

“But--”

“Stay.” he pointed and left out the back door. He came back with a bucket of water and grabbed a clean rag out of one of the drawers. Dunking it into the water he grabbed your injured foot and started dabbing away at the blood and sand. “And here the day was going so well. I finally got you to take a bath, we were having a nice chat, then we took that little tumble and it was like it reset you. You had better not start calling me Your Radiance again, I swear.”

“I shouldn’t have ran though. It’s not my place. I shouldn’t have done it and then you wouldn’t have had to help me and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt and--” you went silent as he glanced up at you, that spark of blue flame alighting his eyes once more.

“Did I not say yesterday that you are allowed to feel whatever you please in regards to me? You can feel guilty if you wish but your guilt doesn’t get to erase the fact that you also feel comfortable with me. I like that you play. I don’t want you to stop on account of this one accident.” He patted your wound dry and tore a strip of fabric off of his sarong, wrapping it around your foot. “Understood? Don’t make me have to make it an order because that will go against everything I am trying to accomplish here.”

“What is it you want to accomplish?” you asked.

“I want to create followers that want to follow me out of devotion, not fear. If I can’t get you to not fear me, then what hope is there for the others?” he handed you the wet rag. “I know I can’t undo everything you learned, especially not in a day. But we are not going to spend this time with you too scared to say anything out of turn or show any displeasure. I may be your god but I do not control you. Do you understand?”

You nodded.

“No. Say it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?”

You took a deep breath. “I understand what you want from me.”

“Which is?”

“To be devoted to you out of desire, not obligation or fear.”

“Good.” he turned around and you could see the wound in his back where the rock stabbed him. “Now, could you be so kind as to help clean this for me?”

“Yes. Of course.” You wiped at the blood trickling down his spin and pressed the rag over the cut to staunch the bleeding.

“Rafayel?” your voice felt as if it was a thousand miles away from your body.

“Yes?”

“You talk of being a god worthy of devotion, but do you not have any requisites of your followers? Is there nothing to make us worthy of your blessings outside of wanting to worship you? It seems unfair that you hold yourself to such a high degree but not us.”

“You wish to know what I think makes my followers worthy of my blessings and spared of my wrath?” he thought for a moment. “They have to be kind and honest. They cannot spread fear in hopes that it will gain me more followers or larger offerings. To be worthy, their actions and words must come from their souls. A sand dollar offered by a child that believes in me out of trust is worth more than all the gold shoveled onto a dais by fearful priests. Chasing you through the halls as you try to play keep away with me is more precious to me than this self loathing you carry about inadvertently causing me injury.”

“I understand.” A smile started to creep its way back onto your face. “I like this version of you far better than the one I learned about on the mainland.”

“Nice to hear it.” he glanced over his shoulder. “Almost done back there?”

“Oh right.” you had forgotten what you were doing for a moment. You removed the rag from his back. You were shocked to see that the wound had completely disappeared, gone as if it never existed, save for a small pink spot between his shoulder blades. “What…how did that happen?”

“I’m God of the Seas, water is a natural healer to me, be it fresh or salt.” he rolled his shoulders, the muscles in his back flexing as he did. “Now, how about we do something relaxing for the rest of the day? No cleaning, no writing, something simple.”

“Like what?”

“Want to learn how to play a Lemurian board game?”

“Sure.”

“Alright,” he glanced around the room. “Right, I need to go get one. Stay here, don’t go tripping over anything else, I will be right back.”

He left to dive back into the sea while you stayed sat on the kitchen table. You picked your foot up, inspecting the makeshift bandage over your foot. He could have gone and found actual bandages but he tore off part of his clothes just to dress your wound. Either he thought very highly of your foot or very little of his clothes. You ran a finger over the gold embroidery, contemplating.

It would take him some time to return so you carefully stood up and limped back out to the staircase. The book was still resting on the top step along with the pen that Rafayel had dropped. You picked up both and cracked open the book, penning a new note near the back.

“The god Rafayel wants more than anything for his followers to follow him out of love rather than fear. I think this shows more than anything that he cares for us more than the priests of old would have had us believe. He is a kind god,” you bit back a mischievous smile, “and he likes it when you tease him, so if you are reading this you should do it a lot. He really does like it. Just be ready for him to tease you right back.”

#love and deepspace #lads rafayel #lads mc #rafayel x mc #rafayel x reader #sea god rafayel #lads sea god au

46 notes · View notes

poppitron360 · 5 months ago

Text

More quotes from this RANDOM INCORRECT QUOTES GENERATOR that I found- THIS TIME VALGRACE:

0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_[0

Leo: What do you want to be for Halloween?

Jason: Yours.

Leo:

Leo: …yeah, that would be pretty scary.

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Jason: Stop doing that.

Leo: Stop doing what?

Jason: Saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you.

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Leo: I can't take this anymore, someone needs to take me out!

Jason: In a dating type of way, or an assassination type of way?

Leo: I don't know, surprise me!

0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_[0

Leo: Pros and cons of dating me.

Leo: Pros. You'll be the cute one.

Leo: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

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Jason, trying to flirt: So, you come around here often?

Leo, confused: I mean, this is my house, so yeah.

0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_[0

Leo: How do I tell Jason that I want him to yell at me like he’s Gordon Ramsay and I'm a poor little chef who just ruined a crème brûlée?

0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_[0

Leo: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Jason: Okay.

Leo: And make out during the scary parts.

Jason: Th-

Jason: The scary parts.

Jason: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_[0

Jason (about Leo): I would never say that my husband is a bitch and I don’t like him. That’s not true… My husband is a bitch and I like him so much!

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Leo: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

Jason: AS ENEMIES?!

Leo:

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Leo: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreshing.

Jason: Are you a software update? because not right now.

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Jason *Holding up a pack of pens*: Look at how cute these pens are!

Leo: Jason that’s gay.

Jason:

Jason: Leo, we’ve been dating for-

0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_[0

Jason: This date is boring!

Leo: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store.

Jason: Then why did you invite me?

Leo: I didnt, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you Leo I'll do whatever I want!

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Jason: I don't know how to tell you this, but... I love you.

Leo: That's great, Jason. Especially considering the fact we've been married for 6 fucking years.

(Basically the plot of my Married Valgrace AU that I’ve been writing)

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Jason: If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one.

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Leo: Can I have 2 straws with that milkshake?

Jason: Aww-

Leo: With 2 straws, I can drink it double as fast!

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Leo: Fight me!

Jason: *gets on one knee and pulls out a ring*

Jason: Fight me for the rest of our lives.

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Jason: Two bros!

Leo: Chillin' in a hot tub!

Jason and Leo, in unison: Zero feet apart 'cause we're GAY AS FUCK!

0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_[0

Jason: When I was young, I left a trail of broken hearts like a rockstar. I'm not proud of it.

Leo: You're kind of proud of it. You work it into a lot of conversations.

0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_[0

Jason: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet?

Leo: What? Like J F K W S Q X-

Jason: No, like, U R A Q T.

Leo: Awwww!

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Jason: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Leo: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Jason: But you’re always acting stupid?

Leo: ...

Leo: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_[0

Jason: Okay, but if your not gay then why are you always holding my hand and kissing me and telling me I’m your boyfriend?

Leo: Dude- Its satire!

Jason: THAT'S NOT WHAT SATIRE MEANS!

0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_ [0]-_🔥-_[0]-_⚡️-_[0

Jason: I want to kiss you.

Leo, not paying attention: What?

Jason: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

@euryvices I was literally in the middle of writing this when you posted your hcs and I had to tag you.

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bingwriterxo · 2 years ago

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masterlist :)

welcome to my blog!

rules + guidelines

for even more: wattpad

last updated: december 13, 2023

------

☆ = personal favorites

Marvel

More Than Capable (Kate Bishop x reader)

Mahd Wy'ry (Thena x reader)

Tara Carpenter

drunk ☆

arachnophobia

notes

sisters, sisters

the shakespeare exhibit ☆ ⤷ part 2 ⤷ drabble 1 ⤷ part 3 ⤷ part 4 ⤷ part 5 ⤷ part 6 (smut, 18+) ⤷ drabble 2 ⤷ part 7 ⤷ drabble 3 ⤷ part 8 ⤷ drabble 4 ⤷ part 9 ⤷ drabble 5

distrust

Wednesday Addams

a love more than love

a child?!

Vada Cavell

sore loser

childhood friends

wisdom teeth ☆

party ⤷part 2 (smut, 18+)

first time (smut, 18+)

miscommunication

meddling mia

distant

backseat (smut, 18+)

my tears are becoming a sea

truck

the chase ☆

emergency

Jenna Ortega

more than friends?

stressed

hot tub (smut, 18+)

this is how it feels ☆

amnesia

midnight guest ☆

call your mom (heavy topics, 18+) ☆

paparazzi

what is grief if not love persevering?

Amber Freeman

a drunken kiss

no strings attached...right?

a clingy drunk ☆

moth to a flame

Sam Carpenter

five more minutes

sisters, sisters

#masterlist

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kitthepurplepotato · 1 year ago

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Chapter 6 - The man in Inko’s house.

Summary: Izuku want to see his mom but he finds another man in her house instead. Also, Izuku forgets to wear a shirt to sleep.

Warnings: Izuku in his underwear, no actual suggestive content this time but there are some suggestive thoughts in there (obviously😂), swear words

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Tadaima.” Izuku mutters into your ear while he gives you a tight hug. He just came home from his last shift for the week. He’s yours for two whole days from now on, and it feels like a dream.

“I missed you.” You mutter back, your face flushed from the excitement. “I can’t wait to wake up next to you and cuddle. Then I wanna use the hot tub together…”

“Uhm, about that…” Izuku scratches the back of his head sheepishly. Oh no.

“If you tell me you are working tomorrow I swear to god I’ll cry.” You retort angrily, your arms snaking around Izuku’s middle possessively. By the look of it, Izuku really likes your new possessive side; his eyes darken as he buries his fingers in your hair, scratching your scalp to soothe your sudden anger.

“Definitely not, but… can we go to see Mom? I really miss her. Then the day after that we can… uhm… have the full day for ourselves. Just you and me. And All Meowt. And the hot tub.” Izuku’s face is slightly flushed as he says the last sentence but you can feel his excitement when his eyes shine in that adorable way it usually does when he talks about his favorite things and current obsessions, like that new new anime about the most popular girl falling in love with a random nerd. He’s absolutely obsessed with that shit, bless his little romantic ass. “I also want to formally introduce you to her. As my… my… girlfriend…” Izuku smiles shyly, his voice full of giddiness.

“Hmm…” You try to tease him, but his puppy eyes are too powerful. You have no idea how can he make such an adorable face and how can he still have baby fat on his face at his age. You can’t help yourself; you touch the soft skin, slowly stroking up and down then back up until you reach his freckles, connecting the dots with your finger, taking in the sight of them as counting them would be impossible. “Have I told you how much I adore your cheeks?” You mutter as you leave a tiny kiss on the most freckled part of his skin. “And your eyes… you are so handsome, I can’t say no to this face.”

“Says the most beautiful girl with the sweetest smile.” Izuku mumbles with his eyes downcast which makes him look like a shy school boy confessing to his first love and it’s the cutest fucking thing the world has ever seen.

Okay, this needs to stop. It’s literally past midnight and Izuku haven’t showered yet.

FOCUS.

“I’ll wait for you in bed.” You leave one tiny kiss on the greenette’s cheek and sneak out of the embrace, your steps quick as you walk towards the bedroom; you can hear Katsuki yelling “just fuck already”, loud and clear in your head but while you would absolutely love to finally have him to yourself, it’s kinda fun to tiptoe around each other; there is something about Izuku’s shyness, about the way all his touches scream innocence that makes your heart flutter and you are honestly not ready to say goodbye to that.

It doesn’t take Izuku too long to snuggle up to your back as he always does but the first thing you realize is that… he’s still kind of wet. Not too much, just the way the person skin’s feels like when they get out of the shower… wait.

Skin. Your naked shoulders are touching skin. Izuku senses how your shoulders tense and moves away from you; you murmur a silent “fuck” under your nose for being so weird about the situation, but hell, give the girl a warning, will ya?!

“Sorry, I forgot to bring a shirt with me and I’m too tired to get one but if it makes you uncomfortable…”

You hate the hesitation in Izuku’s voice.

“No, I was just surprised, it’s fine. Come back, I’m cold.” You turn to your other side, snuggling into the man’s pecks, silently thanking all the gods that it’s dark as your face is probably more red than a lobster’s. Your heart skips a beat as Izuku pulls your closer, his body flush against yours; your pajama top rode up in the motion so there is so much skin-to-skin right now your brain is about to combust. You can feel his abs through your belly; they are hard and sturdy but the skin is really soft, much softer than you’ve expected it to be; he doesn’t get many scars around that area thanks to the reinforced bullet and shockproof vest he wears under his hero costume. You have a really strong urge to feel it with your fingers, find every dip, every crevice until you remember them all even with your eyes closed but Izuku had a hard week and he’s probably tired to the bone so you decide to hide your face in his neck instead, snuggling into his warmth until you become a putty in each other’s arms.

“We should do this more often.” You murmur into his neck; you can feel him shivering as your hot breath licks his skin.

“Sweet Pea, I won’t be able to sleep if you keep doing that.” Izuku mutters shyly, his words followed by a pleased sigh.

“You haven’t slept for a week Izu, I’m quite sure you’ll manage.” You giggle but you roll back to your original position to let him have his peace tonight. Izuku doesn’t wait long before he pulls you back to him; after a few seconds his breathing evens out and he’s out like a light.

He must’ve been even more exhausted than I thought - you think to yourself as you slowly follow him to dreamland, his warmth seeping into your bones through your light pajama top.

~•🥦•~

Things you are not ready for at 9 in the morning:

- Izuku’s absolutely beautiful sleeping face.

- Izuku’s washboard abs glistering in the sunlight as he somehow manages to kick the covers off himself.

- Izuku still in bed, at 9AM. End of sentence.

Oh, and how can you forget the most important thing….

- The top of Izuku’s broccoli tattoo sticking out of his tight boxers as his gorgeous abs glisten in the sunlight at 9AM on a Saturday morning.

Izuku’s nose scrunches adorably as though somehow, he’s able to feel your eyes on him; he shifts to a new position and sighs contentedly, his hand reaching out to find you in his sleep; you sat down during your inner monologue so the only thing he could find was your upper thigh. He grabs the warm limb anyway, his face scrunched up in concentration as he’s trying to figure out what is he touching. You are half embarrassed and half amused, a tiny giggle leaves your mouth as Izuku tickles you by accident. His hand wonders around again, this time to your inner thigh and that’s when you whimper; Izuku opens his eyes to see what’s wrong and he pulls back his hand right away like your skin just burned him.

“Uhm… good… morning.” Izuku mutters, his face hidden in the pillow. Somehow, it sounded like an apology but you are glad he didn’t actually apologize; he has no reason to do so and you really want him to get to a point one day when he doesn’t feel the urge to say sorry for doing things he enjoys to do. For instance, every time his kisses get a bit rough, he apologizes, like it’s not the most normal thing in the world to get a bit unhinged while you kiss your loved one. He also says sorry when he accidentally touches the side of your… well… bosom. Or your bottom.

Okay, you can kinda understand the last two as you two haven’t really done anything too cheeky yet and Izuku wants to make sure he has your consent before doing any of that, but you would be happier if he would just ask you if he can instead of running away like a 30 year old virgin every time his finger touches a bouncy area.

Okay, how did you end up thinking about that?

Ahh, probably from the sight of his own, juicy ass in those tight black boxers.

… focus, woman.

“Really good morning indeed.” You look at Izuku’s god-like, half naked body; damn, those back muscles are (also) something else. You can’t wait to be able to ask about every single scar covering his body; there is a lot, some of them massive and brownish red - probably old burn marks while some of them are long, white and thin, almost elegant compared to the violent claw marks on his side. Some people might be put off by all the damaged skin, but honestly, they just make Izuku even more handsome in your eyes; they are the proof that Deku is a hero, a proof that he would do anything to save the innocent, to protect his city and it’s people. His back is like an abstract painting sitting in a museum; some people look at it and think “this makes no sense” but those who understand get teary eyed from all the emotions, of all the stories hidden behind the random lines of the canvas.

“Let’s… uhm… get ready. Yeah.” Izuku shuffles off the bed with a red face and you can’t help but giggle at Izuku’s awkwardness.

~•🥦•~

“So… this is it.” Izuku parks in front of a small, adorable house, right next to a small forest. You lived in Tokyo for god knows how long yet you didn’t know there was a place like this in the area; well, it’s quite far from the center to be fair and you never really felt the urge to sit on the train and go around the main city, so it makes a lot of sense. “It’s a small house, but mom didn’t want a bigger one. She said it would be too empty without me.” Izuku sighs, still affected by his mother’s bittersweet words. He’s such a mama’s boy!

“That’s so sweet.” You mutter, a little bit anxious about being here; you know there is no need for you to be stressed about today but it’s still a big step in your relationship, so of course it will affect you.

“Come on, mom will be so happy to see us!” He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the entrance, fingers intertwined as he opens the door and barges in without a single knock.

Well… Izuku clearly forgot to tell his mother that he’s coming over.

How do you know that? Because there is another man in her house. The man’s hair is blonde and messy, body skinny and fragile, a little bit unhealthy from the distance but there is a slight, healthy blush on his face which tells you he’s probably fine. His face is really kind and he was cleaning the leaves of a massive money plant when you two barged in so he’s clearly not a weirdo which makes you extremely happy because you would definitely have a few words with him otherwise. No one plays around with the innocent, naive Inko. No one.

The man looks extremely surprised first but then his face changes into a happy grin as he looks Izuku up and down with a proud smile.

“Midoriya-shounen!” The older man hops over to you two and hugs Izuku tightly. That nickname rings a bell.

“All Might!”

Wait.

Okay, wait.

No fucking way.

“All Might?!” You mutter incredulously. The blond man just smiles at you awkwardly like he’s a little bit ashamed of being outed this way but wants to make a good first impression anyway. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be rude or anything…”

“It’s all fine, my darling. Everyone reacts like that. You must be the famous Sweet Pea, I’m so happy to finally meet you in person.”

All Might has the kindest smile. It literally brings sunshine into the already bright house.

“Izuku, All Might is in your mom’s house!” You mutter under your nose while you ignore the world around you for a few minutes; it’s extremely hard not to freak out over the fact that you’ve just met Japan’s biggest hero - you are a nerd after all.

“Oh, yeah, why are you in mom’s house?” It seems like Izuku didn’t even realize he’s not supposed be here in the first place, he was so excited to meet his father figure again. He’s so fucking precious.

“Oh, well… my mansion was a bit too empty for the little old me, so I… moved here?”

Izuku almost chokes on her saliva while you can’t stop gawking at the blond man in front of you.

Well… that’s… an interesting plot twist.

“You are my mom’s roommate?!” Izuku yelps and you can’t help but sigh at that.

Two middle aged people sharing a house as “roommates”? You’ve never heard such a bullshit. Is Inko dating All Might?! Is that why she kept this a secret from his son even though they talk on the phone every week for literal hours?

“Inko wanted it to be a surprise, so… surprise?” All Might still talks to Izuku like he’s 15, making over-exaggerated facial expressions and you can see on Izuku’s face that he’s back to being a young boy, shy and nerdy, craving the love of a father he never had.

The whole situation might be considered weird from an outsider perspective but somehow… it just works. This family is special; they love with their whole heart, platonic or not and Inko letting his son’s role model to live in her house so he doesn’t get too lonely is such a Midoriya-thing to do that you are not even that surprised.

“I’m really happy.” Izuku mutters, tears welling up in his eyes as he hugs the thin man again. “I’m really happy, dad.”

“My boy…”

Aaaand… everyone is crying.

If this would be a fanfiction, this would be the perfect time to end this chapter as the emotions are so strong, the reader probably needs to take a breather.

“To be continued.” You giggle to yourself as you look around the house to find the missing piece; Inko, who’s hiding behind the bathroom door, crying a river as she takes the beautiful sight in front of her.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Bro I have a confession to make: I ship All Might and Inko more than I ship anyone else in this anime. I have no idea why.

- I went to a garden center and bought a plant plushie. It reminded me of the first few chapters of this story when Deku was proud of not killing a plant, but the plant was fake so I named him Deku. 😂

- Some bad news for next week: I’m taking a break for 1 week. Life has been a bit hectic around me; I went back to full-time after being a part timer for a year due to mental health issues (it’s really not as bad as it sounds I swear.), Christmas in retail sucks and it sucks even more when you work in the busiest store in the area and I also got some worrisome news from my doctor which triggered my old anxiety and I kinda need some time to sort my shit out. I already know I won’t have time to write both of my series this week and I don’t want to ruin my upcoming birthday by forcing myself to edit and write that day, but that’s the only day I’m at home this week. So yeah, I’ll be back in two weeks! Maybe even sooner, we will see how it goes.

- Have a lovely week, guys! 💜 Tell me your thoughts! 🥦

TL: @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @kastuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @thekookiecorner @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya izuku x y/n #midoriya fluff #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #pro hero deku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #midoriya izuku x reader

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keen-eye · 1 month ago

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my thoughts on eps 6-10 of cobra kai s6

good

silver smoking a cigar in the hot tub. it's all i've ever wanted

much better than eps 1-5. although it wasn't hard to beat, it was setting up for the more exciting part. but 1-5 were still weak compared to other seasons

robby's time to shine. his fight scenes solid as always. his rivalry with kwon. loved robby being a leader even if he's still disrespected

robby and sam's maturity. they're under a lot of pressure and they're doing their best

kenny showing up and kicking ass. more people should flip silver off

chozen and kim da-eun, interested to see where that goes. i like kumiko but chozen seems like he'd want a partner with the same fire in them

the kids heartfelt talk in the locker room and the love between the characters and the actors. although none of their conflicts were really resolved…

silver and kreese trying to kill each other. i hope they do it at the same time and die holding each other

personally did not see the sekai taikai brawl coming, big "oh shit" moment. the sheer amount of bloodthirsty people ready to throw their karate futures away just to freely attack each other was very outlandish but that's the show lol. the school brawl had more impressive direction and higher emotional stakes, but the ST brawl upped the danger level a ton and kwon's death was a great cliffhanger

tory's "is it worth it" conversation with kim da-eun. after the death of her mother she feels so defeated, her anger at the world was her motivation but she lost a lot of it once she saw her friends again, and deep down tory knows winning won't make her happy

silver and sensei wolf scheming

irish music playing every time the dublin dojo is fighting

amanda's outside perspective of the karate drama never gets old

hmmm

johnny and miguel flying back home just to find carmen okay and then immediately flying back to spain. there needed to be a reason to get kenny into the competition but using carmen like this was so wrong

hey johnny? father your son. no not miguel, the other one. yes, robby. do you remember him

miguel telling robby he believed in him as their leader felt insincere because it was after johnny explained that it was all robby had going for him***

daniel and johnny didn't try to talk to tory***

kwon and the rest of cobra kai are written to be very two-dimensional. this was probably to be expected

please can johnny finally stop acting like a fool. he and daniel still can't work well together because johnny keeps jumping back and forth between being a reasonable adult and a juvenile idiot

too many romance plot lines. miguel-sam-axel, kwon-tory-robby, tory-robby-zara. tory and zara had a decent rivalry without having to make zara try to steal him just to rub it in tory's face. and implicating her in whatever happened the night robby was drunk

demetri and eli's continued squabbling. demetri cheating on yasmine. them questioning kenny's true allegiance for it to be resolved in like 5 minutes

daniel acting pretty nonchalant about being locked in a cage lol. is this going to be brought up again

still finding the miyagi storyline to be unnecessary

*** robby & tory injustice

#taking into consideration that ck is not a well written show. i think most people have a love-hate relationship with it #my opinions #johnny-kreese-silver-daniel lovers showdown #last 2 standing have to kiss #cobra kai #cobra kai spoilers #ck spoilers #ck s6

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reality-detective · 11 months ago

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A brief write up of my personal story. 👇

I haven't been lucky in life with getting my way, I've worked hard for everything including vehicles for myself since I got divorced in 2013 and then it got worse, I lost everything. I had 2 Harley Davidsons, a 1976 FLH shovelhead and a 1990 Ultra Classic, I had a 2010 Ford Edge and a nice house with an in ground pool (16' x 32') and a hot tub. I lost it all.

I had health issues in 2015 which damn near killed me. I continued on a downward spiral with depression and anxiety, the feeling of worthlessness, it seemed as if my life was out of control. I fell into the BIG pharma scam and walked out of an intensive care unit where I spent 2 weeks in and 3 weeks out of an ICU hospital stay with 16 different prescriptions and half were psych meds.

I fell as far as one could fall, I was contemplating suicide and then in the twinkling of an eye my life changed, I went cold turkey on all medications but one. My head lost the fogginess and I was able to think.

I went through my Dark Knight of the Soul which wasn't easy, It took me a couple of years to get through that, but I gotta say Q and having Trump as president shook me awake even more as I watched all this unfold while I fought my own demons.

I have totally regrouped my physical, mental and spiritual well-being. I'm not ashamed of the path I took because now it all makes sense and validates where I am today.

I have a small circle of friends but the ones I do have are rock solid brothers and sisters from another mother and that includes the comrades I have met from different countries throughout this war. I have excellent connections in the Netherlands, Germany, Georgia (the country), the UK, and Australia.

Anyway the point of my story is to just share more of my personal struggles, my experience, where I'm at and where I'm going. This IS a spiritual war, this IS biblical and this IS historical. It's the greatest time ever to be alive.

My life has turned a complete 180° although I don't have anyone special to share my life with I feel it is still complete, I'm happy, I have another motorcycle and a nice vehicle, a roof over my head and the blessings just keep coming. Throughout all the shit this old soul has been through I will say this: "It doesn't matter what material bullshit you have in life it's not going to make you happy if you don't have yourself. If you lose yourself, you have nothing, even if you have everything."

- My name is Terry, I was banned from Fakebook, I had a Twitter account for 6 months before being tossed off there. I had a Tumblr account for years until Trump was elected, then I was deactivated, opened another account/deactivated, so I opened another account... Boom 💥 deactivated a again. So I opened a 4th account only to be booted again but I fought them this time. As that battle continued for 8-10 months. Meanwhile I opened a 5th account which is what I use here. 10 months later I won the battle to get my 4th account reactivated which is called constantly-deactivated (now my backup account.)

Stay positive, never surrender and for God's sake... "TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF" Don't ever lose yourself, self care is important especially NOW.

We're nearing the end of this show and remember... 👇

Never give up on yourself, keep climbing thos stairs. 🤔

I care deeply about humanity surviving, you have no idea what you really are. You are the universe, seriously 💫

I Love you all. 💜

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think about it #think for yourselves #think for yourself #do your homework #do some research #do your own research #ask yourself questions #question everything #personal story #me #my writing #love #peace

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builtaworldwithyourlove · 7 months ago

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I Forget Where We Were

1.4/ joel miller x f!reader / MINORS DNI

summary: life with Joel from the start. Be kind please- this is my first piece and has taken 6 months of courage🤍

Chapter Nine: Conrad

Oh, I loved you with the good and the careless in me.

what to expect: Sunday dinner for the Millers with an unexpected guest. One is human and one is tabby with four paws.

warnings: bad language i guess idk?😂fluff, dad!joel,lover boy joel, no specific physical description of reader, female reader (please let me know if there is anything I’m missing, I will elaborate as the series goes on) no outbreak, age gap (reader is mid 20s and Joel is mid 40s), boyfriend!joel? i repeat boyfriend!joel, wholesome Sundays, toothache inducing sweetness, cute baby kittens

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

‘I think it’s going to rain today’ Sarah sipped her orange juice and ate her pancakes, with a sudden air of concern and adult-like observation.

‘Nope baby, it’s a hot forecast, Uncle Tommy and his new girlfriend are round today, dinner outside again’ Joel clapped his hands as he made the obligatory dad remark of being 100% certain what the weather is like.

You woke up feeling slightly worse for wear, with the tight squeeze in the bath tub, the new prospect of moving in with Joel and Sarah, the excitement of a kitten and the bottles of red wine haunting you.

‘I’m gonna head home and grab my stuff for the week. I’ll be back soon, I love you both.’ Before you left, Joel handed you 100 dollars and you grabbed the cat collar before Sarah noticed it.

‘Daddy what is that for? She has money you know?’ Joel rolled his eyes, realising the torture that came with a daughter who was always a step ahead and way too observant.

‘How do you know what kinda money she has, now then little lady?’ Joel rested his hesd on his fist and leant over the breakfast bar, ready to be amused by Sarah’s answer, which was bount to encapsulate your entire personality.

‘No one needs that many claw clips, and she doesn’t let her handbags go anywhere near the floor.’ Sarah was deadly serious, but Joel belly laughed, so excited about building your vanity here and having your handbags on display.

‘Well, maybe I felt like being nice.’ Joel shut the conversation down. He was not ready to try and give child answers to adult questions.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joel was right. A hot Sunday it was. You wore a cream linen co-ord, shorts with a long sleeved button up shirt. Paired with your iconic matching bow, oversized tote and Birkenstocks.

You:

We’re gonna make great pawrents.

Joel:

I should break up with you for that.

You:

You have no right.

Joel:

I’ll put a real baby in you instead.

You:

Jesus. Not even 10am yet. At least let me have my second coffee.

You pulled up to the pet store and got all you needed for the new Miller addition. You laughed when you saw Joel had drawn a pawprint on one of the bills.

Next door was a rescue store, and you went in on the hunt for the perfect kitten.

The volunteers were so helpful and sweet. They asked if you had children, who was home during the day and took address details and asked how the neighbourhood was. They took you through to the cats- you were in heaven.

You were matched with a tiny 11 month old tabby. Her name was Nova, and she was perfect with children with bags of energy, but with a docile, gentle side which made her a lapcat of an evening.

They did the final checks and paperwork, and you were able to take Nova home. She mewed in her carrier for the entirety of the journey, and her tiny paws poked through the gaps in the carrier, followed by a teeny pink nose and angry kitten teeth.

You called Joel and told him you were 5 minutes from home, and to get Sarah ready.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

You let yourself in, and carried Nova through. She ran laps around the pen you set up in the living room, and then eventually fell asleep on her blanket.

You went out the back to find Joel and Sarah tidying up the plants, and taking off the leaves that had gone yellow, and repotting the dahlias.

Joel leapt up so quickly he saw stars, and Sarah bounded down the garden to cuddle you,the usual greeting you were given.

‘What would make your Sunday better?’ Joel asked

‘No school tomorrow?’ Sarah blushed knowing she was hilarious.

‘Okay what else?’ Joel rolled his eyes.

‘Ice cream?’ Sarah laughed again.

‘Okay I’m impatient. Follow me and Daddy’ you skipped through the kitchen and turned and made Sarah jump by shushing her.

She went giddy and Joel instantly fell in love with the pint sized baby that laid asleep in the sun beam on the floor.

Sarah squealed with excitement as she tiptoed over to Nova. Nova woke up and she rolled on her back and did a big stretch. Sarah delicately tickled Nova’s belly and Nova jumped to all fours and ran round Sarah, picking up a mouse toy in her mouth and dropping it by her lap.

‘She’s so fluffy, I love her so much. Thank you’ Sarah started to cry, unable to process the emotions that came with your first pet at a young age.

You and Joel were emotional wrecks, watching what was possiby the most wholesome moment in your lives. Joel wrapped his arm round you and you leaned into him.

‘You did good baby’ he whispered as his lips touched the top of your head.‘Everything I’ve ever wanted in one room’

The wholesomeness was soon interrupted by Tommy, bursting his way through to the front room.

‘I bought company, hope you don’t mind one more’ Tommy lead the new love interest in by her wrist and made her do a twirl. Your jaw dropped. You both squealed in unison and ran to eachother.

‘Laura, you dirty dog’ you pretended to gasp and be disgusted, but your bestfriend and basically brother-in-law, it was a blessing.

‘He dropped me home Friday night and I couldn’t get him to leave’ Laura giggled as Tommy playfully smacked her ass.

‘Uncle Tommy, meet Nova. Hi you’re pretty’ Sarah couldn’t stop to answer questions about the furry addition, too distracted by trying to wrap your best friend around her little finger too.

Tommy played with Nova, and she clamped her paws round his wrist and they wrestled.

‘Right, let’s go grab a drink’ Joel attempted to restore some order. Kittens, friendly reunions, two smart ass independent women. The Millers were in deep.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

You all caught up and debriefed on the events of Friday night, the proposal Joel had and Laura and Tommy’s newly found spark.

After plates and plates of chicken Caesar, steak, fries and homemade cookies, mixed with sangria and beers, you all collapsed in the living room on the sofa. You and Laura did Sarah’s bedtime routine before school tomorrow and then joined the boys downstairs after you all kissed her goodnight.

Nova snuggled up next to Sarah on her pillow, and Laura took a polaroid and propped it next to Sarah’s nightlight. How did you all get so lucky to find eachother? Sarah would never come up short in her life, you all loved her fiercely.

You and Laura shared the armchair, with the type of friendship where you had very little boundaries, but also due to the fact you couldn’t finish a conversation without Joel and Tommy moaning you were shouting across the room to eachother whilst they tried to watch the big game.

Laura shotgunned all the pieces of clothing that you were talking about decluttering, seeing as you would have to find a way to fit a 2 bed apartment, overrun with your belongings, around Joel and Sarah’s life, without intruding.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joel and Tommy finally made it through the game with no interruptions, as you and Laura were banished to the armchair and inevitably fell asleep holding wine glasses. You were both lightweights and prone to exhaustion following high levels of excitement.

In true manly, criminal fashion, they turned the big light on and you both jumped up, grouchy and rudely awakened.Tommy was going to drive Laura home, and you planned your schedules to line up tomorrow whilst hugging goodbye.

‘Look after her’ you warned Tommy, lightheartedly of course.

‘I wouldn’t dare hurt my girls’ Tommy winked playfully and Joel stood behind you with his forearm coming over your shoulder and draping over your chest.

Joel wrapped the lengths of your hair round his hand, as you shut the front door, and held it firmly as he kissed you.

‘What a weekend baby, I’m exhausted, and far too drunk for a Sunday’ he slurred his words ever so slightly, and his eyes were heavy.

‘Let’s be asleep by 10pm and then it doesn’t count’ you scrunched your nose and kissed him.

‘Come on then baby. We’ve got a busy week coming up.’

Previous Chapter

Final Chapter

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hometoursandotherstuff · 1 year ago

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Over-the-top modern 2021 mansion in Los Angeles, California. 12bds, 17ba, $139M. It also has $5M worth of Italian brand La Contessina furniture that's included with the house.

Look at this loooong sparking chandelier that pools on the floor. (There's a dedicated caretaker's quarters, but it's gonna take more than one person to maintain all this.)

Remember that all the furniture is included. Wonder why they chose brown. Now, here we are in the main living area with a huge bar. (aka "The Nightclub.")

On view here is this 6 car elevator to show off your car collection to guests (what, only 6?).

"The Nightclub" extends way out to the patio.

The wine room holds 1, 050 bottles, with a Murano glass art installation overhead. Wow, this wall of wine bottles is way different from the house I posted yesterday, with the bottle walls.

For entertaining, the residence has multiple bars. This is an ice-cold vodka-tasting room (notice the fans in the ceiling & the frost on the walls). Hanging on hooks are fur coats for the guests to wear. (Is this crazy or what?)

Home gym with a ridiculous amount of Peloton equipment. How many people are they expecting? There's also a climbing wall and a cigar lounge.

This looks like one of the more casual seating areas and bar. Don't expect to see the kitchen that's fitted with Wolf appliances and is supposedly a chef's dream. You don't concern yourself with something as mundane as cooking.

Here's the hot tub room with a massive chandelier.

The home theater is fitted with plush Belgian leather seats.

Beautiful views from the patios and terraces.

Check out the reclining marble tub in the primary suite. The wall opens to a large deck. (Guests get a penthouse suite.)

Massive en-suite bath. That big glass room on the right is the shower.

Her closet.

His closet.

The colossal 23-foot LED screen out by the pool comes up from the floor.

Around this bar are illuminated swing seats, plus a full commercial kitchen hidden from sight, for entertaining, b/c nobody wants to see a kitchen.

This home is really focused on entertaining.

The house is on a 2.08 acre lot and not to worry, bulletproof glass, and a hidden state-of-the-art safe room ensures security and peace of mind. A high-tech 36 camera security system with a full security command center including staff quarters vigilantly watches over the property.

#mansions #over-the-top homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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miss-choi-park · 11 months ago

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Sin never tasted so...

Chapter 1 - Fate is a bastard

A TXT Yeonjun Fanfiction from Mrs. Choi-Park

CEO/non-idol/dom/bully!Yeonjun! / Confident/sub/named/fem!Reader!

No obstacle - made of stone - stops love, what love can do, it dares to do. - pretty cheesy, right?

Romeo and Juliet, literature that can only be endured through modern language and films, nowadays. We all know the plot.

~A boy and a girl, madly in love with each other but the tragic circumstances of the family dispute kill both of them in the end.

The "most beautiful" love story in the world...if you don't experience it yourself. Fate is sometimes an ice-cold bastard.

Warnings under the cut

Warnings: rough language, hate speech, bullying, sex language, they kinda hate each other, caring yeonjun

Please remember that I fully respect the privacy of all K-Pop Idols and that this is just a fantasy. It's not my intention to harm anyone! (I've been a MOA since March 2023)

The hot whirlpool was just right thing for my muscles, which were pretty acidic from two days of skiing.

I still had four days ahead of my parents and my winter sports trip. And even though skiing was my favorite sport after hip-hop dancing, it was pretty tiring. My parents and I also received an unpleasant surprise yesterday.

The 5-star sports hotel high in the Pyeongchang Mountains has also attracted another rich Korean family from Seoul.

Why did the Choi's - my father's chosen mortal enemies - have to have a vacation in the same hotel as us in the same week as us?!

Ever since I was little, my parents always instilled in me that the Choi's were truly the spawn of hell.

It wasn't until I was 13 years old that I really found out why our family's didn't get along at all.

My parents, who had moved from Germany to Korea four years before I was born, had started with a small bookstore, which developed into a publishing house for small authors and later into the second largest publishing house in South Korea. My parents have always hated the Choi's, who put obstacles in their way, even now they were holding back our really great success.

The Choi's owned the number one publishing house in Korea, which had also been producing Manhwa's for several years now. (Counterpart to Japanese anime)

Because of this family, my parents struggled with racism, failure and stagnation. We had to deal with copyright lawsuits again and again - fights that emptied our Bank account and were never really justified. We also couldn't follow up with the manhwa's because it was forbidden to us. The old Choi was "a big animal in the world of Politics," as he always said. And even though my parents had come a long way...we had to constantly look into our pockets while the Choi's lived in luxury.

The 5-star holiday was the first in 6 years. Before that we either couldn't go on a skiing holiday or we could only go to a 3-4 star hotel. That's why I wanted to enjoy the whirlpool now and do not think of anything bad, who knows when I'll have that again.

For two minutes I enjoyed the flow of water and the bubbles massaging my back.

Until~

"Oh no, that can't be possible! I wanted to go into that hot tub, potato!" I heard a voice. It didn't take a split second before I recognized the voice. The unpleasant nickname, only one person used it for me, was the final hint.

I opened my eyes and lifted my head, which I had rested on the edge of the hot tub.

Choi Yeonjun.

As expected.

The 24-year-old son of the family I had grown to hate.

Yeonjun stood on the stairs that led up to the hot tub where I was relaxing. I rolled my eyes, not giving him a second glance after dropping my head back down again.

He wasn't worth saying anything back.

"Come on out, I want to relax!" he grumbled. Without saying anything, I raised my hand out of the water with my middle finger held up.

There was silence for a moment. Before I was about to look up to see if he had disappeared, I heard an angry murmur. Then noises coming from the water. I raised my head again and actually saw Yeonjun across from me climbing into the large whirlpool.

"Fuck! What are you doing?!" I threw it at his head and Yeonjun looked up. His look more than disgusted as he lowered himself.

"Maybe I can get you out of here when I'm in." Yeonjun's arm swirled through the water in front of him as his gaze followed his movement. I saw him grin evilly, "Cool, through the whirlpool bubbles, you can't even tell that I've just made bubbles."

As his gaze climbed up to me, I understood what he meant and jumped up immediately. I had 100% confidence that he had just farted in here. So I rushed out of the water, exclaiming in disgust: "You really are the stupidest creep I've ever met!"

Yeonjun laughed as I tied my towel around myself, crawled into my flip flops and rushed away.

Stupid asshole! Why did I have to bother with something like that? Life could be so beautiful.

Even at school he was the biggest idiot I knew, who made every day there a living hell until he finally graduated and I could enjoy four years without him.

Stupid private comprehensive school from the first to the eighth grade we were in one school. Luckily he was always four steps above me, but I was always afraid the stupid idiot would repeat a year and we will sit together in a class at some point. Surprisingly this never happened.

He ruined everything. My school days, my school dance club - which he also signed up for after I signed up - the success of my family and so much more.

I really hated Yeonjun.

He was a brat, idiot, know-it-all and disgusting. I had asked my fate several times 'Why him? Why do I have to know someone like that?' ~ I would never have received an answer.

I really hoped he wouldn't come to the little party in the mountain hut by the ski slopes this evening. Hopefully he wasn't in the hut today where there were a thousand posters saying that today was a Party. Because as far as I knew Yeonjun, he took every party with him and always a slut from there who fell for his tricks and then was dropped by him afterwards.

Asshole!

I didn't want to spend any longer in the hotel's swimming area so I went to my room.

The smarter one always gives in, right?

Hope dies last, but eventually it dies too.

For me the time had come when the door of the cozy mountain hut opened and Yeonjun entered.

From my seat at the bar I could see the door perfectly and everyone who entered could also see me. Unfortunately, our eyes met immediately. I exhaled in frustration and rolled my eyes. The nice young man named Danwoo, who I had already met on the ski slopes yesterday, looked at me in surprise.

"What's up?" He asked over the loud music in the bar as I looked deep into my cocktail glass, hoping Yeonjun would just ignore me.

"Nothing…I"

"Heyjo Sumi!" A loud voice shouted at us.

Oh, please don't! Why me?!

While Danwoo turned in the direction the voice had come from, I drank my cocktail, which was actually quite strong, in one go.

When I put my glass back down, I was immediately greeted by Yeonjun's sharp eyes. He had stopped close to Danwoo and leaned on the counter so he could look at me.

"I thought you didn't like parties, sweetie." He greeted me.

I gave him a dark look.

"First of all, don't call me sweetie, second of all, I don't like parties when you're around and third, fuck off!" I replied.

Unfortunately, I knew that Yeonjun wouldn't be shaken off so easily.

Yeonjun gave a half-hearted laugh and raised his eyebrows: “That’s bad, I wasn’t planning on going.”

"Excuse me...may I ask who you are?" Danwoo interrupted our conversation and I clenched my teeth so hard that my jaw hurt as Yeonjun looked disparagingly at my acquaintance.

"The question would be mine first." He replied to Danwoo, who seemed a little taken aback.

"Yeonjun! Just shut up and leave!" I protested, causing his gaze to turn back to me. His bored look turned into a wickedly amused grin.

He rested his head on his hand: "Why so pissed off, little one? Your problem if you're always looking for someone who can't satisfy you."

A fire burned inside me. I immediately jumped up from my chair, wanting to choke Yeonjun with the small silver chain that hung around his neck.

I walked up to him and held my finger close to his nose: "I'd like you to-"

Before I could even continue speaking, I felt a hand on my shoulder pulling me back and away from Yeonjun faster than I expected.

It turned out to be Danwoo who pulled me through the dancing crowd, out of Yeonjun's sight. When we finally got to the corner where sofas were, he looked at me a little surprised: "Who was that?"

I looked at Danwoo for a few seconds before I glanced over my shoulder and was relieved to see that Yeonjun didn't seem to have followed us.

"Oh, that was nobody. I've called him my problem my whole life...please don't worry about him, he's just an asshole." I said and Danwoo's facial expressions relaxed a bit.

"Why is he here?"

"I would like to know that too, believe me, fate is just not kind to me."

"Then let's get out of his way."

"Deal!"

Surprisingly, I didn't even see a trace of Yeonjun in the hut for the next 2 hours. He had probably already grabbed the next poor girl and was fucking her somewhere.

I didn't care. Danwoo was so generous in ordering me a ton of alcohol that I didn't even think about Yeonjun. Until Danwoo went to the toilet around 2am, I took a short break from dancing and sank onto the couch in the back compartment of the mountain hut.

The party was surprisingly well attended, the songs were first class and the atmosphere was electric. I was happy to have met Danwoo because I would never go to a party like this alone.

My vision was still clear, but I noticed that my mood was getting significantly better with every second. I also started some conversations with complete strangers on the dance floor. Well, my inhibitions were long overcome.

"Where did you leave your boyfriend?" Someone asked me. I looked to my right where a bad awakening awaited me.

Yeonjun.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" I asked, horrified. My good mood immediately disappeared.

"I was sitting here the whole time." He grumbled, taking a sip from his beer bottle that had been resting between his legs.

I stood up immediately.

I thought Yeonjun had already left the party, what was he doing here all of a sudden?!

I stood up immediately.

"Hey, wait! I asked you something!" He protested as I tried walking away. I ignored him and tried to escape through the dancing crowd. Unfortunately, this turned out to be difficult, thanks to the somewhat chubby man in front of me.

"Hey!" I heard Yeonjun say, shortly afterwards a surprisingly warm hand on my forearm. I was spun around and to make matters worse, lost my balance due to my drunkenness.

The next moment I found myself on the floor, between Yeonjun's legs. When I glanced up at him he seemed confused, but this was quickly replaced by a broad smile.

"Oh what did I do to deserve this honor?" He asked and I furrowed my eyebrows.

But before I could get up, Yeonjun leaned forward, his face now close to mine.

"Will you answer my question now?" He asked. The smell of beer could be clearly smelled from his breath. But my breathing probably wasn't any better.

"Why? Jealous?"

"Pfft!" with that amused sound, Yeonjun leaned back and I took the chance to get up.

"Why should I be jealous? You should be." He said and I looked down at him confused.

"What does that mean again?!" I wanted to know and Yeonjun shrugged indifferently.

"I thought I saw your guy disappearing into a cubicle in the toilet with someone earlier." He explained himself and I raised an eyebrow.

"God! How much have you drunk?"

"3 beers and a soju shot. I know what I saw.", He murmured before taking another sip from his bottle, "Think about it, how long has he been gone now?"

Oh my god...he wasn't entirely wrong. Danwoo had probably been gone for a little longer than 15 minutes. I bit my bottom lip, rather unconsciously, as I looked over my shoulder at the toilet entrance.

Well maybe the queue was long…

"Come!" Yeonjun said in a firm voice and walked past me. More successful than me, he made his way through the dancing crowd. I was left a little surprised. It was Yeonjun we were talking about here...he probably just wanted to convince me of something again. Lies were his specialty.

"What's wrong now, potato?" Yeonjun shouted, just loud enough for me to hear him over the music. I bit my lip again before hesitantly moving forward. I trotted after Yeonjun through the crowd. We got to the toilets pretty quickly.

From what I got to know - Danwoo was the complete opposite of Yeonjun. Funny, understanding, decent and attentive...I wouldn't trust him to ever cheat on anyone-

I froze when I saw Danwoo in the doorframe of the men's toilet. A short woman with long black hair stood in front of him, giggling wildly.

"Danwoo?" I immediately forgot it when I saw him and the unknown girl together.

Danwoo turned his head to the side and immediately stood upright. His features looked shocked. Like a little kid who just got caught stealing candy.

"Hey Sumi... uhm it's not what it looks like."

"Oh no! It is exactly what it looks like! What was he like, doll?" Yeonjun joined the conversation, the question obviously directed at the black-haired girl.

So he was right...Yeonjun hadn't lied to me. Then why did I want him to do it?

Contrary to my expectations, my eyes began to burn. A sign of impending tears.

Oh no!

The girl standing in front of Danwoo looked back and forth between me and him, more than surprised, as if she wanted to make sure we both were real.

"What do you want again? I don't even know you." Danwoo said to Yeonjun and I just turned around and ran. I didn't know where my legs would take me, but I just wanted to be somewhere else right now. Somewhere far away.

Why were all boys so shitty? My first boyfriend had already cheated on me...why does it have to happen again?! Why does fate always have to put obstacles in my way?! Why can't I be lucky too?!

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the mountain hut in the freezing cold winter when the first tear finally ran down my cheek.

The cold wind that blew over my arms, which were only covered with a thin sweater, gave me goosebumps. But I was less interested in that right now. I folded my arms and pulled my shoulders up to my ears, as I ran from A to B and cursed things that even I couldn't understand.

Only the light from the window of the hut and the light from the drag lifts twenty meters away brought light to the pitch-dark ski slope that stretched below me.

It's not what it looks like! It's always what it looks like! - "Asshole, idiot, wanker!" I called out into the clear evening air.

"I hope you don't mean me again?" A voice suddenly came from behind me.

I turned around and recognized Yeonjun in the dim light of the surroundings. I quickly turned away again.

Never let your enemies see your tears!- my father always says.

"Are you crying?" He asked further and I heard the snow crunching under his feet.

I frantically wiped my cold teary cheeks.

"Pff, not because of him! How long have you known him - a day?" Yeonjun said. His voice now close behind me.

"What do you want here, Yeonjun? Leave me alone, I have enough to worry about right now!" I replied sharply. For a moment there was silence. I kept my gaze fixed on the snow beneath me. I started to shiver, unintentionally but no wonder given the cold.

"I'll make sure you don't freeze to death out here." I heard him say. His answer was a little softer than usual.

"Ha! That would be fine with you." I hissed back.

"That's nonsense!" Yeonjun exclaimed, the next moment I felt his hands on my shoulders and I promptly were turned around.

"Why are you crying and trying to get yourself killed out here? Boys suck, you should know that."

"Cheating is not only shit, it's anti-social, unrespectful and a crime!", I pulled myself out of his grasp, "I just want to be alone right now, so get lost!"

"You're such a stubborn person sometimes that I just-"

"That you want to - what? - You want to kill me? Then make it easy and get inside! The cold will do the jo-"

Before I could finish, Yeonjun grabbed my forearm and pulled me with him surprisingly easily.

"Let go of me, asshole!" I protested as he opened the door to the mountain hut again.

He showed the tall, broadly built security man his party entry bracelet and also mine, since I was wearing it on my wrist, which he was holding tightly. The man nodded and looked at me a little confused as Yeonjun dragged me further.

"What's your jacket?!" He wanted to know when he got to the cloakroom and finally let me go. His grip would definitely leave bruises. "Mind your own business?" I asked and Yeonjun gave me a dangerous look.

"If you have your jacket, you're welcome to stand outside all night long, but you won't die." He growled.

"Since when have you been interested in my health?" I didn't give in.

"SUMI!!!" Yeonjun shouted clearly for everyone in the hut to hear, even over the loud music. I winced.

"Can't you forget your fucking pride for once and tell me what your fucking jacket looks like?!" He cursed at me. I looked at him for a few moments and then at the woman in the dressing room who had been watching us in shock. Finally, I rummaged through my back pocket of my jeans for the little chip that told the woman where my jacket had been hung.

The woman accepted the chip and disappeared into the cloakroom without saying a word.

"Finally!" Yeonjun turned his back to the coat rack and slumped against it. He looked at me and I suddenly felt very small. My gaze went down.

"You can be quite annoying, you know that?" He said and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. But I didn't say anything, even though there was something on the tip of my tongue that I had been able to respond.

A moment later the woman came back and put my jacket over the counter.

"Here you go, I wish you a pleasant evening." She murmured casually as she eyed Yeonjun skeptically, who still had his back to the woman.

I grabbed my jacket and decided at that moment that there was no point in staying here. So why not leaving?

Without saying another word to the woman or Yeonjun, I turned around and left.

"Put it on in front of me, otherwise I'll have to go out again!" Yeonjun asked me, but I kept going. When I finally got back outside, I put on my warm ski jacket and adjusted my scarf that was stuck in the sleeve of the jacket. Then I stalked off. The snow crunches beneath my feet.

I loved that sound and it always brought me a childlike joy, but right now it didn't spark anything in me.

I was drunk, sad and pissed off...sleep would help...maybe.

"Potato!" I heard Yeonjun calling, who seemed to have followed me outside again. I didn't stop, just looked over my shoulder in the direction of the mountain hut. Yeonjun ran after me, also frantically pulling his jacket over his shoulders.

"Hey, where are you going?" He asked when he was no longer two meters away from me.

"To the hotel, I don't want to stay anymore." I explained myself and trudged up the stairs to the drag lift.

"Oh, fuck Danwoo! He wouldn't have made it anyway!" Yeonjun said. The sound of a zipper followed his statement.

"Is it always just about the one thing for you?” I asked as we arrived at the drag lift platform, that was supposed to bring us down. It was empty except for the two of us. The lift attendant had probably gone home hours ago and had just left the lift running.

"Well, I'm just saying, you always pick the losers." Yeonjun said as we stood so that a lift could swing directly into our legs. What happened immediately afterwards. We dropped into the cold seat of the seat lift and began our way down.

"How do you know? Danwoo wouldn’t have-"

"Oh no, don't tell me that. Danwoo wouldn't have gotten anything done. And that's exactly your problem!" He interrupted and I looked at him questioningly after I pulled down the bar that now served us as a belt.

"What's my problem?"

"You're totally unsatisfied! That's why it's so annoying with you."

I tried my best not to give the most sarcastic laugh the world had ever heard.

"You're such an idiot! That's not my problem, it's you! I'm a gentle little flower to others, you know...but as you are to me, I'm to you!"

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, "A gentle flower? How much did you drink?"

"To be honest, a lot, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm telling the truth." I said and crossed my arms.

"Hm...I'd rather stick to my opinion - sounds more logical." Yeonjun grumbled.The rest of the ride was silent. After we got out, we had to walk about 10 minutes to the hotel.

It was strange. I almost didn't feel the need to avoid Yeonjun. Of course he was annoying me - to hell - but I was almost happy not to be alone, even if it was Yeonjun...with whom I shared the silence of the night.

In the second minute of the walk, Yeonjun found his voice again: "Honestly, when was the last time you had really good sex?"

I looked at Yeonjun in horror. He looked at me almost innocently. A stark contrast to his question.

"As if I'm telling you this..." to be honest I've never had sex...but he didn't need to know that. With my first boyfriend it never got further than foreplay. Well, I was 20 now, but I never put any pressure on myself to have sex.

You don't miss what you don't know, so why the rush. The right one will come at some point.

"So it's been ages?" Yeonjun asked and I rolled my eyes. "Why am I even talking to you?!" I grumbled and Yeonjun gave a small laugh. "Because you know deep down that I'll bring it." This statement makes me stand still. I never expected such a statement even from Yeonjun. "Please what?" It slipped my mind and Yeonjun also stopped two steps in front of me. He smiled broadly at me and wiggled his eyebrows.

"I don't want to praise myself, but I've only ever received good feedback. I could get you to your high." He said and you could practically see him mentally patting himself on the shoulder.

"You're disgusting! I thought I am too annoying to put up with for even two minutes." I pointed out and Yeonjun shrugged.

"Drunk you're ok." He said and continued walking. After a few seconds I started moving again.

"Still this won't happen in a thousand years!" I said, earning a laugh from Yeonjun.

"Not even if you were the last one in the world." I continued my thought. Now nothing came from Yeonjun. The thought shook my body.

No, no, I would never go into bed with him. Disgusting!

"I..would." I then heard and looked up. Yeonjun looked over his shoulders at me.

"I do not think so."

"I guess so!"

"Oh man Yeonjun, are you really just thinking with your cock?"

"Would be a huge space for thinking." It took me two seconds to understand what he meant. When it clicked, I pushed him aside: "You're really gross!"

The hotel was already in sight. I almost thought we had a good moment, a minute ago, but now I just wanted to get away from this conversation quickly. Luckily, Yeonjun stayed behind me and kept his mouth shut. But I felt his gaze very present on me.

"Apart from your stubbornness, which really annoys me, you have a really nice body." Yeonjun finally said as we turned into the hotel parking area.

"Yeonjun stop, this is really strange!" I protested, only hearing a deep breath behind me.

"Are you really drunk?" He asked further and I looked over my shoulder. His warm breath puffed into the cold air, clearer than my own.

"I don't think DRUNK but ON DRUNK." I said as I pushed open the front door of the hotel. The lobby was only dimly lit, but cozy and warm. Nobody was here anymore - sure it was about 3am. I stopped briefly in front of the fireplace and stretched out my cold fingers. The ember still released heat.

Mmm, that was nice.

Suddenly someone grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back violently. Immediately afterwards I noticed the corner of the old wooden reception desk on my lower back. Startled, I looked up and was greeted by Yeonjun's sharp eyes. I knew that Yeonjun was significantly taller than me, but he was just so close to me that I had to look up high. His hands firmly on my hips, holding me close to the reception.

"What the hell-"

"Funny...I'm pretty horny right now." He murmured and I saw his eyes suddenly darken. That sent a shiver down my spine.

Please feel free to let me know your opinion 🤗

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#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #fanfic #kpop fanfic #txt fanfic #love story #kpop lover #txt yeonjun smut #yeonjun smut

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