#flame grilled burger

[abramsbooks]

RECIPE: The Flame-Grilled Burger (from The Great American Burger Book (Updated and Expanded Edition))

Cooking over direct flame is one of the most difficult ways to make a hamburger. One of the reasons so many of the hamburgers made a hundred years ago were cooked on flat tops was simply because the results were predictably good. Squash a ball of beef on a skillet and reap the rewards of the path of least resistance. I also would imagine that way back then, lighting a big charcoal grill and flame cooking at small burger stands and joints throughout America would have been pretty dangerous. But we all know that a burger cooked on a flame grill is a very different burger.

It’s easy to master the skillet-cooked burger. Grilling a burger on open flame requires more dedication to the craft, more time, more equipment, and a willingness to fail. That’s because cooking on an outdoor grill can be very unpredictable. The grill master is at the mercy of uneven temperatures, depending on the type of coals used and where those coals are in relation to the grilling grate. Even the weather can be a factor. The outdoor propane grill solves a few of these issues, but if you really want to experience a flame-cooked burger, super-hot charcoal is the only way to go.

There’s something fundamental and primal in our desire to harness fire and grill. “The greatest advantage to cooking over flame is the grilled flavor,” Michael Ollier, corporate chef at Certified Angus Beef®, told me once, adding with a smile, “I crave that.” It’s a flavor that you cannot ever achieve cooking on a flat top or by any other method. Chef Ollier explained the science behind this perfectly: “The fat that drips onto the coals becomes airborne, flavoring your burgers.”

The keys to grilling success are high heat and confidence. Get your coals super hot and your tools, patties, and condiments ready to go, and you’ll be all set up to grill like a pro. When family and friends are hovering around you at the grill, waiting for magic, it may feel like there’s a lot at stake. Just follow the recipe below for the classic grilled cheeseburger—and remember, practice makes perfect.

Makes 8 burgers

Equipment

A 3½-inch (9-cm) food ring or round cutter

Parchment paper

A charcoal chimney

Charcoal briquettes or lump charcoal

A charcoal kettle grill, hibachi, or similar

A stiff spatula (with a long handle)

The Burger

2½ pounds (about 1 kg) fresh-ground 80/20 chuck

Salt and coarse black pepper, for seasoning

8 soft white buns

The Toppings

8 thick slices American, cheddar, or any other good melting cheese

Green-leaf lettuce

1 or 2 red beefsteak tomatoes, sliced

1 medium Vidalia or Walla Walla onion, sliced

Divide the beef into 8 equal portions (5 ounces/140 g each).

Place the food ring on a cutting board or clean surface lined with parchment paper and add a portion of beef. Gently press the beef into the ring to create a perfectly round patty. (I use the ring for consistent thickness, but you can eyeball the size if you prefer. Both methods work fine. Just be sure not to over-press the meat—you want it to maintain a somewhat loose grind.)

Return the patties to the fridge to chill until you’re ready to grill (hey, that rhymes).

Using the chimney starter, light the charcoal. When coals are ready, transfer them to the grill, making sure that the bottom vent is open. Spread the coals out, leaving a small space on one side (as a rest spot in case things get too hot in there).

Place the grate over the coals and, using a grill brush, scrape off any residual buildup from your last grilling adventure. Cover the grill and make sure that the top vent is wide open. Give your grill grate a chance to heat up—you don’t want to plop raw burger patties onto a lukewarm grill. That grate should be ridiculously hot!

At this point, and not before, season both sides of your patties with a liberal amount of salt and pepper. Salting too early will bind the muscle fibers together and make your burgers tough (yuck).

Place the patties on the hot grill grate, cover the grill, and leave them alone. Allow the patties to cook for about 5 minutes. The cooking time can vary depending on environmental and equipment factors, so you’ll have to use your best judgment here. Chef Michael Ollier from Certified Angus Beef put it best when he told me, “Let the burger speak to you.” If you understand this statement, you’re probably drinking too much at the grill. But seriously, with experience comes wisdom—the burger will actually tell you when it’s time to flip. One good visual cue is when you see red liquid start to form on the uncooked surface of the burger. Go ahead and take a peek just shy of 5 minutes.

This would be a good time to toast your buns. Toast them indoors using a skillet on your stovetop, or toast them with butter in a small cast-iron skillet, directly on the colder side of the grill.

Cook the second side (again, untouched and covered) for an additional 4 minutes. With about 1 minute to go, top each patty with a slice of cheese and cover the grill. As the burgers finish cooking, slide them to the cooler rest spot section of the grill, away from the hot coals. Once all your burgers are done, remove them from the heat and allow them to rest for 1½ minutes. The internal temperature of the burgers should be about 143°F (62°C) for medium-rare.

Top the toasted buns with the lettuce, tomato, and onion slices, or your condiments of choice. (I love a good, crisp slice of onion on my grilled burgers, as well as mustard, pickle, and sometimes mayonnaise.) Transfer the patties to the toasted buns and serve.

The definitive guide to creating the most mouthwatering hamburgers by America’s leading burger expert—expanded and updated with new and improved recipes

The Great American Burger Book was the first book to showcase a wide range of regional burger styles and cooking methods. In this new, expanded edition, author and burger expert George Motz covers traditional grilling techniques as well as how to smoke, steam, poach, smash, and deep-fry burgers based on signature recipes from around the country.

Each chapter is dedicated to a specific regional burger, and includes the history of the method and details on how to create your own piece of American food history right at home. Written by Motz, the author of Hamburger America and hailed by the New York Times as a “leading authority” on hamburgers, The Great American Burger Book is a regional tour of America’s best burgers.

Recipes feature regional burgers from California, Connecticut, Florida, Hawaii, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, and Wisconsin. International locations include: Australia, Brazil, Denmark, Malaysia, and Turkey.

These mouthwatering recipes include Connecticut’s Steamed Cheeseburger, The Tortilla Burger of New Mexico, Iowa’s Loosemeat Sandwich, Houston’s Smoked Burger, Pennsylvania’s The Fluff Screamer, and Sheboygan's Brat Burger.

This is a book for anyone who loves a great burger, unique or classic. And who doesn’t love a great burger?

For more information, click here.

[urfavisananimegirl]

The Junior Whopper (Burger King/Real Life) is an Anime Girl!

[indeedgoodman]

[trendrecipes]

What Makes the Burger King Bacon King and Chicken Nuggets Irresistible?

The Burger King Bacon King and Chicken Nuggets are more than just food—they’re iconic staples in the fast-food world. Known for their bold flavors and premium quality, these menu items consistently rank as customer favorites. But what exactly makes them so irresistible? Let’s uncover the secrets behind their popularity. 1. Why the Bacon King Reigns Supreme Flame-Grilled Perfection At the heart…

[noname21sstuff-blog]

MOTIONGATE™ Dubai’s Dragon Flame Grill unveils new fiery burger menu inspired by How to Train Your Dragon Franchise

The immersive dining experience allows guests to soak in the adventures of Berk while savoring delectable flavours of the new menu #Motiongate @Motiongate @DeagonFlameGrill #DragonFlameGrill

The immersive dining experience allows guests to soak in the adventures of Berk while savoring delectable flavours of the new menu Ready to dig into a fiery feast fit for Vi-kings, at the Dragon Flame Grill? MOTIONGATE™ Dubai’s thematic restaurant inspired by the epic movie ‘How to Train Your Dragon’, is thrilled to unveil a new burger menu – the delectable ‘Fire Breathing Burgers’ – taking…

[dtfpeta]

‘09 ghost has been on my mind lately. I just see him as such a domestic man and doting lover! Very chivalrous and a “That’s my wife!” mentality fs.

Wouldn’t forgive himself if you were to open your own passenger door after a date, and prior to that he was practically leaping over the hood of the car to open the door before you got out. Tsking at you as he takes your hand and walks you to the entrance of y’all’s favorite chain restaurant because you best believe he’s splurging with an appetizer and dessert. “Anythin’ for my girl” he’d smile.

And on the very rare occasion that he has the day off but you’re the one stuck at work, your stress almost instantly vanishes when an assault of lemon scented cleaner and bleach fills your senses. Ghost definitely enjoys wearing the pants in the relationship but damn does he take the role of malewife seriously. The house would be cleaned from head to toe, a stick of incense burning (because he appreciates their stress reducing aroma), and burgers resting in the microwave. Because if he's one thing but a lovestruck man it's the king of the grill.

And when he's on deployment during the cold, dead of night- the thoughts he procures of you barely hold a flame to the actual warmth you could provide him. The cheesily posed polaroid of you he begged to take burns a hole in his pocket and his hands claw to retrieve it. A pining sigh being breathed from him as his palm comes to rub at his brow. Finally, he begins to warm up now that his thoughts are plagued of you and how he can spoil you when he gets back home.

[zillachii]

Me: *sick, bored and miserable*

My mind: ✨whopper whopper whopper whopper jr double triple whopper✨

😌

[joelmillerisapunk]

Watermelon Sugar

Dbf/neighbor/daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 6,522

Summary: At the annual neighborhood barbecue, you can't ignore the sparks flying between you and Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. What starts as playful flirting leads to a secret, steamy encounter that leaves you both wanting more.

Warnings: 18+, age gap, unprotected p in v, m! oral recieving, soft but dom daddy!Joel, Joel calls reader baby and sunflower, use of daddy, light choking, hair pulling, and spanking. And a lil aftercare. Reader has hair and wears a bikini.

Notes: I've been slow over here and a little inactive due to adulting ughhh, but thank you all for your love and support 🥰 I truly appreciate all of you! tysm @joelslegalwhre & @evolnoomym beta reading for me. Smooching you both forever. Divider by @saradika-graphics

You stand in front of your mirror, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The annual neighborhood barbecue is a tradition you've always looked forward to, but this year, it feels different. Ever since you can remember, Joel Miller has been a fixture in your life—a man who could make you laugh with a single look and who always seemed to know when you needed a friend. But lately, the glances you exchange feel charged with something new, something you're not quite ready to name.

As you dab on a bit of perfume, you catch your dad's voice in the hallway, calling out that he's heading over to Joel's early to help set up.

“Be there soon!” You yell back.

—

As you step out of your front door, the warm summer breeze brushes against your skin, carrying with it the mouth-watering aroma of grilled meat and freshly cooked burgers from the neighborhood barbecue, hosted by none other than Joel Miller - your dad's best friend and neighbor, the one youve had a crush on forever. You can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach as you walk towards his house, knowing that he will be there waiting for you.

Your heart races as you approach the familiar scene; tables filled with food and drinks, kids running around playing games, and adults chatting animatedly under the shade of trees. You spot Joel standing near the grill, his broad shoulders moving up and down as he expertly flips burgers on the sizzling hot coals. His tanned skin glistens with sweat from all his hard work preparing for today's event.

"Hey there!" Your dad calls out when he sees you approaching. "Just in time! We were just about to start eating."

You take a moment to admire Joel's form; how strong yet gentle he looks handling those flaming hot coals like they were nothing more than pebbles in a stream; how those little black shorts sit on his body just right, how that white baggy shirt hangs over his big broad shoulders hugging his thick neck just right. Damn it. Why does he have to look so good?

As you draw closer, the heat from the grill is almost as intense as the warmth that spreads through you at the sight of Joel. His head looks up for a moment as he sees you approach, a wide grin spreading across his face.

You take a plate from the stack and start to serve yourself, trying to keep your hands from shaking. The array of food is impressive: potato salad, corn on the cob, fresh fruit, and an assortment of desserts that would make any food lover weak in the knees. But your focus is on the grill, where Joel is now plating a burger that looks like a work of art.

"Here ya go, sunflower," he says. The nickname, worn in like a favorite pair of jeans from years of use, still makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. "I added a secret sauce.” He whispers, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Tell me if it's as good as I think it is.” He winks, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest.

As you take the burger from Joel, your fingers touch briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You try to brush it off as static, but deep down, you know it's more than that. You take a bite of the burger, and the flavors explode on your tongue. The sauce is tangy and sweet, perfectly complementing the grilled meat's smoky flavor.

"Mmm," you moan, closing your eyes in appreciation. "This is incredible."

Joel's eyes light up with pride. "M’glad you like it." His eyes follow every movement of your lips, every chew, every swallow. It's as if he's savoring every moment of this interaction.

You try to ignore the flutter in your chest, telling yourself it's just appreciation for a good meal. But deep down, you know it's more than that. Joel has always been kind to you, always looked out for you, but now, as your eyes lock in a silent understanding, you sense something different. Something forbidden.

"So, you really like the sauce?" he inquires, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he wipes his brow with the back of his hand. The gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You nod eagerly, your taste buds still dancing from the burst of flavors. "Mhmmm! What’s in it?”

Joel chuckles. "That's top-secret information, darlin', Ain't gettin’ it outta me that easy."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you walk behind the grill and up to Joel. “How about we make a deal? You give me the secret sauce recipe, and I'll show you something I know you wanna see.”

"Alright, you've got my attention."

Slowly, with deliberate grace, you begin to lift your shirt just enough for him to catch sight of the vibrant pattern of your bikini top beneath—your fingers deftly move towards one side strap of this bikini top; teasingly pulling at it as if contemplating revealing even more than intended

"Fuck - " he breathes out, quickly shaking his head to compose himself before grabbing your arm to stop you. "Your dad's right there, the hell you doin'?”

With a mischievous wink, you let the strap snap back into place, leaving just enough to his imagination. "Maybe later then," you tease “If you wanna see the rest come find me Mr. Miller.”

Joel watches you step back and saunter away towards the pool, your words hanging in the air like a challenge. The playful sway of your hips is hypnotic, and he can't help but stare as you make your way over to the pool. He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of desire that's clouding his judgment. "Christ," he mutters under his breath, turning his attention back to the grill, but the sizzle of the meat does little to drown out the sound of your laughter carried in the breeze.

He glances over at you, watching as you settle by the pool, your legs dangling in the water. You're a vision, your hair catching the sunlight, your smile bright and inviting. He tries to focus on the task at hand, serving people, and making small talk, but his eyes keep drifting back to you. He can't help it; you're like a magnet, drawing him in against his better judgment.

He watches as you reach for a slice of watermelon on your plate, its vibrant red color promising a burst of sweetness. The juicy fruit is cool and refreshing in the summer heat. As you take a bite, the watermelon's juice is so abundant that it escapes your lips, trickling down your chin.

In an attempt to catch the runaway droplets, you quickly bring your hand up to your face. But in your haste, another stream of juice breaks free, trailing a path down your neck and disappearing into the valley between your breasts. The sensation of the cool liquid against your heated skin makes you gasp softly, making Joel groan under his breath. He watches you with an intensity that borders on feral. His grip tightens around the spatula he's holding as he takes in the sight of you, flustered and trying to contain the watermelon's sweet rebellion. His mind races with images he knows he shouldn't entertain—images of him licking away those sticky trails left by nature's candy on your skin; his hands following suit to ensure not a single drop is wasted; his lips tasting every inch they cover until there's no trace of watermelon left.

His body reacts before he can stop it—a sudden twitch in his pants that thankfully goes unnoticed by everyone else due to his strategically placed apron tied securely around his waist. He takes a deep breath to regain control over his runaway thoughts while simultaneously adjusting himself discreetly under the cover of fabric.

Taking the opportunity to step away from the grill, Joel grabs a cold Corona from the cooler, the bottle sweating as much as he is. He approaches you but stops for a split second to watch you. The sight of you lying there, your body still glistening with juices, makes his heart race.

"Thought ya might be thirsty," he says, handing you the beer, his voice deeper than usual.

You look up as he approaches, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Took you long enough," you say, a teasing lilt in your voice as you take the beer and sip it.

He sits down beside you, his heart pounding in his chest. "You're playin’ with fire, y’know that sweetheart?" he warns.

You just smirk, leaning back in your chair, your gaze locked onto his like a little puppy.

"You keep lookin' at me like that, and we're gonna have a problem," Joel says, his voice a low rumble.

"What if I want a problem?"

His intake of breath is sharp, and you can see the effect your words have on him. His jaw clenches, and there's a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes—something that tells you he's teetering on the edge of control. You watch as Joel quickly gets up from his chair and walks away. He rounds the corner of the house before disappearing.

You wait for a moment before you put your beer down beside the one he left and casually stand up to follow him.

Around the side of the house, away from prying eyes, Joel is leaning against the wall, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The moment he sees you, his eyes darken.

"What are we doin' here?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You close the distance between you, your body brushing against his. "Something we both want," you reply confidently, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.

He captures your wrist, his grip firm but gentle. "This is wrong," he murmurs, though the conviction in his voice is wavering.

"Does it feel wrong?" You challenge, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles through his shirt.

For a moment, he doesn't respond, his gaze dropping to your lips. Then, with a groan of surrender, he closes the gap between you, his mouth crashing onto yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve as if he's memorizing you by touch. You respond with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. The taste of him, a mix of beer and the sweet tang of barbeque sauce, drives you wild.

Suddenly, Joel breaks the kiss, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. "We can't do this here," he says, glancing around to make sure no one has followed you.

You nod, your breath hitching as you realize the gravity of what you're about to do. "Then take me somewhere we can," you whisper back, your hand slipping into his.

With a groan that sounds almost pained, Joel takes a step back, pulling you with him as he leads you away from the party and towards the detached garage at the end of the driveway. His grip on your hand is firm, almost possessive, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

The inside of the garage is cool and dimly lit compared to the bright sunlight outside. It's filled with tools and gardening equipment—a testimony to Joel's many hobbies. The door lightly closes shut behind you, sealing out the world and the sounds of the party. The air is thick with the scent of oil and wood, a heady mixture that only adds to the intoxicating atmosphere. Joel wastes no time, pressing you against the cool metal of a parked truck, his body a solid wall of heat against yours.

"You've been drivin’ me crazy all day," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Teasin’ me like that in front of everyone."

You can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you, and it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

His lips crash onto yours once again, demanding and dominant. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You can feel his stubble rough against your skin.

"You're playin’ a dangerous game, baby," he murmurs against your mouth.

He spins you around roughly, pressing your chest against the truck's hood. You can feel the cool metal against your overheated skin. His hands tangle in your hair, giving it a gentle tug that sends a jolt of pleasure and pain straight to your core.

"Tell me whatcha want," he commands, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"You," you gasp, arching your back to press closer to him. "I want you, Joel."

He rewards you with a slow grind of his hips against yours, the friction making you moan. "You want me to fuck ya, sunflower?" he asks, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes," you whimper, your hands gripping the edge of the hood for support. "Please, Joel."

He chuckles darkly, his lips tracing a path down the side of your neck. "Beggin’ already? I thought you liked playin’ hard to get." You feel his teeth nip at your skin as he speaks. Your body trembles with need, your breathing coming out in short bursts. You don't understand why this feels so right, but you don't question it anymore. "Stay still," he orders, his voice firm.

You force yourself to comply, your body trembling with anticipation. He takes his time, his fingers tracing maddeningly slow patterns on your skin. When he finally reaches beneath the fabric of your bikini top to palm your breast, you can't help but let out a moan of relief.

"That's it," he encourages, his thumb circling your nipple. "Let me hear how much you want this."

His other hand slides down your body, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. You're already so wet for him, and when his fingers brush against your clit, you can't help but buck your hips.

"Fuck, you're so responsive," he groans, his fingers circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. You're panting now, desperate for release. But he denies you, pulling his hand away just as you're about to tip over the edge. "Not yet," he says, his voice stern. "You don't come till I tell ya to."

He spins you around once again, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of you. "I wanna see you baby," he says, his hands tugging at your shorts. "All of you."

You help him undress you, your hands shaking with need. Once you're standing before him in nothing but your bikini, he takes a step back to admire his handiwork.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful," he says, his voice filled with awe. "Now, get on your knees."

You do as he says, the concrete floor cool against your skin. You hear the zip of his pants and then them falling to the ground along with his boxers as he steps forward, his hands fisting in your hair guiding you to his cock. "Open up," he commands, his voice gruff. "Show me how much you want this."

You part your lips obediently, taking him into your mouth. He's big and hard, and the taste of him is intoxicating. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, eliciting a groan from above and then take him entirely until he's hitting the back of your throat.

"That's it, sunflower," he praises, his hips thrusting gently. "Just like that."

You look up at him, your eyes locking onto his as you take him deeper. His grip on your hair tightens, and you can tell he's struggling to last. "Fuck, you look so good with my cock in your mouth," he says, his voice strained.

Your hands grip his thighs, feeling the muscles tense under your touch as you bob your head, taking him deeper with each stroke. The salty taste of his arousal mixes with the lingering sweetness of the watermelon, creating a heady combination that has you moaning around his length.

"Feels so damn good baby," Joel groans, his voice echoing in the quiet garage. His eyes are locked on yours, filled with a raw, unfiltered desire that sends a thrill through you. You feel his thighs quiver under your hands, and you know he's close. But before he can reach his peak, he gently pulls you away, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop.

"Up," he commands as he pulls you to your feet, his hands roaming your body once again. He unties your bikini top, letting it fall to the ground, and then he's cupping your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. "Tell me you want this," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Tell me you want me to fuck you baby."

"I want it," you assure him, your voice trembling with need. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."

With a growl, he lifts you onto the hood of the truck and with a hunger in his eyes that matches your own, Joel hooks his fingers into the sides of your bikini bottoms, his gaze never leaving yours as he slowly begins to peel them away. The fabric slides down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. He tosses the bikini bottoms aside, his hands returning to grip your thighs, spreading them apart as he steps closer.

"You're so fuckin' wet for me," he murmurs approvingly, his fingers tracing the seam of your cunt. You can feel yourself growing warm at his words, but you don't have time to feel self-conscious because he's leaning in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss as his fingers continue their exploration.

One finger circles your entrance before pushing inside, making you gasp into the kiss. He adds another finger, stretching you deliciously as he establishes a rhythm that has you writhing on the hood of the truck. His thumb finds your clit again, rubbing it in time with his thrusting fingers.

"Joel," you moan, your hands fisting in his shirt as pleasure builds within you. "Please..."

He chuckles against your mouth, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. "Please, what?" he teases, even as he adds another finger, filling you even more. "Tell me what you need."

"I need... I need you inside me," you pant out, barely able to form coherent thoughts with the way he's playing your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Joel's eyes darken at your words, and he withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and needy.

You ready for me, sunflower?" he asks, positioning himself at your entrance.

You nod eagerly, your body aching for him. "Yes, please."

With a groan, he pushes forward, filling you in one slow, deliberate thrust. The sensation of being stretched and filled by him is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out at the intensity of it. He stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Fuck," he groans. "You feel even better than I imagined."

As the initial shock of your union subsides, Joel begins to move, his hips setting a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each thrust is a sweet invasion, a claim that leaves you breathless and begging for more.

"Look at me," Joel commands, his voice gruff with need. You lock eyes with him, the intensity of his gaze searing into your soul. "Who do you belong to?" he asks, his pace increasing with each word.

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implication. You know the answer he wants, the answer that feels right in this moment. "You," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I belong to you, Daddy."

A shudder runs through Joel at the sound of the word Daddy falling from your lips. "That's right," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drives into you with renewed vigor. "You're mine, sunflower. Say it again."

"I'm yours, Daddy," you moan louder this time, surrendering yourself to him completely.

The words, once taboo, now feel like a secret language between the two of you. With each thrust, Joel reaffirms his claim on you, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chases his release.

"Harder," you beg, your nails digging into the flesh of his back. "I need more."

He responds with a growl, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the garage, mingling with your cries of pleasure and his grunts of exertion. "Is this what ya need?" he pants, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force.

"Yes," you cry out, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. "More... I need all of you."

In response to your plea, Joel reaches up and wraps his hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your heart race and your head spin. The sensation of being restrained by him sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It's a thrilling mix of fear and excitement that heightens the pleasure coursing through your body.

"You like that baby?" he rasps out, his eyes searching yours for confirmation even as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. "You like it when Daddy chokes you while he fucks your pretty little cunt?"

You nod as much as his grip will allow, your breath coming in short gasps as stars dance behind your closed eyelids. "Yes," you manage to choke out.

The world around you seems to blur into a haze of pleasure and desire as Joel continues to claim your body with an almost feral intensity. His grip on your throat remains firm, yet gentle enough not to cause harm, serving as a potent reminder of his control over you. The sensation of his fingers wrapped around your neck only adds to the overwhelming tide of ecstasy that's building within you.

"Come on, sunflower, come for me." Joel grunts, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Wanna feel this pretty little pussy squeezin’ Daddy's cock.”

His words are the final push you need. With a cry that echoes off the walls of the garage, your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, causing your entire body to convulse with the force of it. Your inner muscles clamp down around Joel's shaft, milking him as he continues to drive into you with powerful thrusts.

As the waves of your orgasm begin to subside, Joel isn't done with you yet. He pulls out, leaving you feeling momentarily empty, but before you can protest, he's flipping you over onto your stomach with a strength that leaves you breathless. Your body is still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax as he roughly pulls you up, positioning himself behind you.

"You think we're done?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I ain't even close to being finished with this sexy body of yours."

His hands grip your hips tightly as he lines himself up with your entrance once again. With one powerful thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely and causing you to cry out in a mix of pleasure and surprise. The new angle allows him to go even deeper than before, hitting spots that make your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat.

"Fuck," he groans, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he sets a brutal pace that has the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing around the garage. "You feel so fuckin' good like this."

One hand releases its grip on your hip and tangles in your hair instead, pulling it just hard enough to tilt your head back and expose the long line of your neck. His lips find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, kissing and nipping at it as he continues to pound into you from behind.

"Such a good girl," he praises between thrusts, his voice a low rumble against your skin. "Takin’ Daddy's cock so well.”

His other hand comes down on the curve of your ass with a sharp smack that makes you gasp and push back against him for more. The sting of the slap only adds to the overwhelming sensation of fullness as he drives into you again and again. Each smack is followed by a soothing caress that sends shivers down your spine and makes a heat pool low in your belly once more.

"You like it when I spank this naughty little ass?" Joel asks wickedly as his hand comes down on the other cheek, this time eliciting another moan from deep within you. "Answer me, baby girl."

"Yes," you manage to gasp out between thrusts, your body shaking under his relentless assault . "I love it when you spank me, Daddy.”

The sound of your admission seems to spur Joel on even more. His thrusts become wilder, more uncontrolled, as he chases his own release. The hand in your hair tightens, pulling your head back further, forcing you to arch your back and take him even deeper. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel another orgasm building within you, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to sweep you away.

"That's it, baby girl," Joel growls, his voice ragged with desire. "Come for me one more time."

His words are all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge once more. Your body convulses beneath him, your inner walls clamping down around his shaft as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you.

Joel lets out a guttural groan as he feels your orgasm milk his own from him. His hips stutter against yours as he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his release. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, marking you his in the most primal way possible.

For a moment, the only sounds in the garage are the ragged gasps of your breathing and the pounding of your hearts. Slowly, Joel releases his grip on your hair and hip, his hands gently caressing the skin he'd so roughly manhandled just moments before.

"You okay, sunflower?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with concern as he carefully withdraws from your body.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah," you manage to say, your voice shaky but filled with a satisfaction that you've never felt before. "I'm good. More than good."

Joel chuckles softly, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of your neck. "You're more than good, baby girl. You're incredible."

He helps you to your feet, his arms wrapping around you to steady you when your legs threaten to give out beneath you. His eyes scan your body, taking in the marks he's left on your skin—the redness where his fingers had gripped you, the faint handprint on your ass, the love bites that dot your neck and shoulders.

"Let's get ya cleaned up," he says, his tone gentle as he leads you over to an old sink in the corner of the garage. He turns on the water, testing the temperature with his hand before wetting a clean rag and using it to gently wipe away the evidence of what just happend.

You watch him, your heart swelling with emotion as you take in the tenderness of his actions. This is a side of Joel you've never seen before—a side that's caring and attentive, a side that makes you feel cherished and loved.

Once he's satisfied that you're clean, he helps you dress, his hands lingering on your skin with each article of clothing he helps you into. When you're fully clothed again, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"You're so beautiful, sunflower," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and admiration. "Inside and out."

The warmth of Joel's embrace and the tenderness in his voice make your heart flutter with a mixture of joy and trepidation. You're standing in a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've ever experienced.

"Joel," you say, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your encounter, "what does this mean for us now?"

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he looks into your eyes with an intensity that takes your breath away. "It means," he begins, his thumbs stroking your cheeks gently, "that I can't ignore these feelings any longer. It means that I want to be with you, truly be with you, in every sense of the word."

Your heart leaps at his words, but reality quickly sets in. "But what about my dad? What about everything else?"

Joel nods, understanding the weight of your concerns. "I know it's complicated," he admits. "And I don't have all the answers right now. But I do know that I can't go back to pretending there's nothing between us, that you're just my best friend's daughter.”

You smile at that, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "So... where do we go from here?"

"First," he says with a grin, "we get back to that barbecue before your dad sends out a search party." He gives you one last lingering kiss before stepping back to survey the scene. "Then we figure this out together—away from pryin’ eyes and family gatherings."

With a nod of agreement, you follow Joel out of the garage, your hand securely tucked in his. The world outside seems different now—brighter, more vibrant, as if your encounter has somehow altered your perception of reality. The sounds of laughter and music from the barbecue drift towards you, a stark contrast to the intimate silence you've just left behind.

As you approach the party, Joel gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll take this one step at a time," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the noise of the gathering. "Okay?"

You nod, grateful for his presence and his promise. Together, you reenter the party, blending seamlessly into the crowd as if nothing has changed. But everything has changed, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the secret you now share with Joel.

Throughout the afternoon, you catch each other's eyes from across the yard, exchanging knowing smiles, and subtle touches whenever possible. Your dad, none the wiser, chats happily with neighbors and friends, his laughter mingling with the sounds of summer.

As the sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow over the neighborhood, you find yourself standing next to Joel by the grill once more. He hands you another beer, his fingers brushing against yours in a silent gesture of affection.

"So," he says, nudging you gently with his elbow, "how's that secret sauce treatin ya?"

You can't help but chuckle, the memory of your earlier exchange bringing a flush to your cheeks. "I think it's safe to say it's the best sauce I've ever had," you reply with a wink, taking a sip of your beer to hide your smile.

Joel laughs, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, I don't know about that," he teases. "I might have to give you a few more samples before you can make such a bold claim.”

But before you can retort, your dad saunters over to join you by the grill. He claps Joel on the back affectionately and turns to address both of you.

"You two look like you're up to no good," he says with a smile. "What are you plotting over here?"

Your heart skips a beat at his words—does he suspect something?—but Joel seems unfazed as he throws an arm around your dad's shoulders with brotherly affection.

"Just discussing some top-secret barbecue business," Joel replies smoothly, giving your dad a reassuring squeeze before releasing him and turning back to tend to the grill once more.

—

Eventually, as the crowd begins to thin and the night grows deeper, your dad announces that it's time to start cleaning up. You join in, helping to gather plates and cups and fold tables, all the while feeling Joel's gaze on you.

Once the last of the guests have said their goodbyes and the yard is returned to its peaceful state, your dad claps Joel on the back, thanking him for another successful barbecue. "You outdid yourself this year, Joel," he says with a smile.

Joel returns the smile, though his eyes flicker to you for a brief moment. "Always happy to host," he replies, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of emotion that passes between you two.

Your dad turns to you, his eyes tired but content. "I'm gonna head home, kiddo. You coming, or are you gonna help Joel clean up?"

You glance at Joel, who gives you a small nod, understanding the silent question in your eyes. "I'll stay and help out, Dad," you say, your voice calm and composed. "You go get some rest."

Your dad chuckles, shaking his head. "Always the responsible one, just like your mother. Alright, I'll see you in the morning."

With a final wave, your dad heads off down the street, leaving you and Joel alone under the starlit sky. The moment his figure disappears into the distance, the air between you seems to crackle with anticipation.

Joel steps closer, his eyes searching yours. "You okay?" he asks, his voice low and intimate.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Just... processing everything, I guess."

He reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "We don't have to figure it all out tonight," he says softly. "But I want you to know what happened between us... it wasn't a one-time thing for me."

Your heart swells at his words, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you. "It wasn't for me, either," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you simply stand there, lost in each other's gaze, the world around you fading into insignificance. Then, with a shared look of understanding, you both begin to tidy up the remaining mess, working side by side in comfortable silence.

When the last dish is washed and put away, and the yard is once again pristine, Joel takes your hand, leading you to the porch swing. The night is quiet now, save for the distant sound of a dog barking and the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

You sit down next to him, the swing creaking slightly under your combined weight. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both look up at the stars.

As you sit there, nestled under Joel's arm, the stars twinkle above, casting a serene glow over the quiet neighborhood. You feel a sense of peace and contentment that you've never experienced before, a feeling of being exactly where you're meant to be.

"It's beautiful tonight," you murmur, your head resting against Joel's shoulder.

“It sure is," he agrees, his voice a soft rumble. But when you tilt your head back to look at him, you realize he's not looking at the stars. He's looking at you. His eyes trace the contours of your face, drinking in every detail as if to memorize you, to etch this moment into his memory forever. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, a silent indication of the smile he wears in his heart, a smile that reaches out to you, enveloping you in its embrace.

"Joel..." you begin, unsure of what to say next. There are a million thoughts swirling in your head, a million questions about what the future holds for the two of you.

He seems to sense your unease and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure it out, sunflower," he assures you again.

You take a deep breath, letting the comforting weight of Joel's arm around you anchor you to the present moment. The uncertainty of the future looms ahead, but for now, you choose to bask in the warmth of his affection.

"I know we will," you reply.

Joel's smile is soft. "That's my girl," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Brave and beautiful.”

The gentle sway of the porch swing and the rhythmic chorus of crickets lull you into a state of peaceful tranquility. Your eyelids grow heavy, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, you find yourself succumbing to the pull of sleep.

Joel notices your drowsy state and smiles softly, his eyes reflecting a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. "Come on, sunflower," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your weary senses. "Let's get you inside." With surprising gentleness, Joel scoops you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he stands from the swing. You let out a sleepy protest but quickly settle against him, your head resting on his shoulder as he carries you into the house.

He navigates through the darkened rooms with ease, making his way to his bedroom. He lays you down on the bed, pulling back the covers so he can tuck you in.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes as he moves around the room, turning off lights and setting an alarm for the morning. When he's satisfied that everything is in order, he begins to undress, shedding his clothes until he's standing in nothing but his boxers. The sight of him—all hard planes and toned muscles—makes your breath hitch in your throat despite your sleepy state.

Joel catches your gaze and chuckles softly. "Like what ya see?" he teases gently as he slips into bed beside you.

You nod, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "Always," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's eyes darken at your confession, but he makes no move to act on the attraction that still crackles between you. Instead, he reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Get some sleep, sunflower," he says softly, his fingers tracing a gentle path down the side of your face.

You nod again, snuggling deeper into the covers as Joel turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The bed shifts slightly as he settles in beside you, the heat of his body a comforting presence in the cool room.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel Joel's arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His breath is warm against the nape of your neck, and he lulls you into a deep, peaceful slumber. In the quiet darkness of the night, with Joel's protective embrace surrounding you, you feel safe and cherished. The worries and uncertainties of the future fade into the background, replaced by a sense of contentment and belonging and you know this is exactly where you were meant to be.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three

Robin sucks on her drink through her straw, “why, exactly, are we here?”

Steve sighs into his own drink.

Robin looks around the yard from her perch on a lawn chair, “I can’t help but notice, Steven, that we are very clearly the oldest people here.”

Steve watches Eddie balefully. He’s trying and failing to light the grill. It’s almost embarrassing to watch; Steve can’t seem to look away.

“Steven, I am drinking something that was mixed together in bowl. I’m drinking it out of a red solo cup. I haven’t touched one of these in a decade. I require an explanation.”

“I don’t have one.”

“That is a lie. Your pants will catch fire and then you can use them to help that moron to light the grill.”

They watch for a little longer.

“Fucks sake Steve just go and do it for him. This tastes like paint thinner; I’ll need to eat some bread at some point or I’ll go into kidney failure.”

Steve gets up and lights the grill for Eddie. He’s wearing another butchered tee shirt and some black board shorts. He’s so pale, and all of his bony bits are on show. Elbows. Wrists. Ankles.

His hair is gathered up into a messy bun on top of his head.

He still has a smear of make up on one eyelid where it hasn’t washed off properly.

Steve knows exactly what he sounds like when he comes.

“Thanks man,” Eddie’s blushing. He’s rubbing the back of his neck. It reveals Eddie’s pale ribs. His dark hairy armpit-

Steve runs away before he does something stupid.

“Okay, so, step by step, no gory details please, what exactly happened last night, because I know damn well you didn’t spend the entire forty five minutes I was waiting hanging around in a gross bathroom.”

Steve sighs, rubs his forehead, then goes and gets them both refills.

“Coward,” Robin calls after his retreating back.

He’s refilling their cups with an honest to fucking god soup ladle out of the kitchen – avoiding the fly that has met it’s sticky end in what is, no doubt, highly toxic punch – when it happens.

“Hey man,” Steve is being addressed by an actual pimply teenager.

“Hey.”

“Nice car,” he sounds weirdly angry about it.

“Uhhh...thanks,” because Steve doesn’t know what the fuck else to say to a dude wearing a dungeons and dragons tee shirt over flaming basketball shorts. He has nothing on his feet. Outside. Steve represses a shudder.

“Look, you clearly have money, or whatever, and probably a fancy job and you’re like, forty-”

“Hey-”

“- or whatever, but this thing with Eddie, can you make it fast please? Dragging it out isn’t fair on him.”

Steve blinks. He’s getting a shovel talk from someone who probably doesn’t know what a VHS is.

Steve can remember playing video games with no save; if you were going to do it, you had to play the whole damn thing in one go. Steve didn’t have a mobile phone until he was fifteen. Steve is not going to take this.

“This ‘thing’ I have with Eddie is none of your business. Eddie can speak for himself-”

“No Eddie cannot speak for himself, because Eddie is the nicest guy I know and Eddie already thinks he’s in love. Don’t think I don’t see what this is for you, Eddie’s just another thing to play with until you get bored. Look at this place, look at us. Now look at you and you’re fancy friend over there,” the kid gestures and, yeah, alright, the difference is pretty obvious, “you wouldn’t be caught dead here, slumming it, if you weren't getting something out of it. Now hurry it along, Eddie only writes good stuff when he’s heartbroken. Which is a lot, by the way. We all know how this goes.”

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“I just got a shovel talk from a kid who probably shouldn’t even be drinking yet.”

“Ouch,” Robin takes her drink back, “how does that feel?”

Steve shrugs, “not sure, actually.”

Across the yard, Steve watches as Eddie gesticulates wildly and hisses angrily at the pimply face DnDer. He catches Steve watching. Eddie grabs the kid by the arm and drags him away.

“The burgers are burning,” Robin idly points out.

Steve sighs, he loves this polo, grease stains are a bastard, and the chances of finding an apron in this place are none existent.

At least Robin comes with him. She half unwraps some cheese and generally pretends to busy herself, slicing buns and stacking paper plates.

“So, last night?”

“Right,” Steve sighs through his nose, shuffling some onions around on the flat plate. “So I was just going to you know, get him.”

“Get your man tiger,” Robin purrs.

It shouldn’t be funny, but it kind of is. Steve laughs.

“But he just...grabbed my hand. And he said ‘Steve! Come and meet the guys!’ So I...did.”

“He introduced you to his friends,” Robin raises that lethal eyebrow.

“Yeah.”

“And you went along with it?”

“Well I kind of...he didn’t let go of my hand so I kind of…”

Both of Robins eyebrows are now in the stratosphere. She appears to spend a few minutes digesting that, “and then you got invited to...this.”

Steve’s already dug half a hole, and he still apparently has the shovel in his hand, so he keeps going, “he was just so happy to see me,” Steve admits, quietly.

“Who is that?”

“Who?”

Robin grabs Steve by the hair and forcibly turns his whole head, “that.”

There’s a blonde girl talking to Eddie. She’s wearing a white tank top and daisy dukes, “no idea.”

“Come on, high time you introduced me.”

Steve really tries, but he cant hide the fact that he is delighted by this turn of events, “why, Robin Buckley! Oh how the tables have turned-”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m going to make her cry.”

Part Five

[austinbutlerslovers]

Pretty Little Secret

Label mature 18+

Summary Your dad is a famous no-nonsense actor: study hard, never rest on your laurels, and don’t even think about boys. Those were his rules, drilled into you since you were old enough to understand them. So when his gorgeous best friend, Austin, starts taking an unexpected interest in you, it completely derails your carefully constructed world.

🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨 sheltered reader • first crush •curios reader 18+ •coercion • abuse of trust • manipulation • unexperienced reader • physical exploration • edging • fingering • size training • size kink• oral on fem• gentle (as possible) P in V • multiple orgasms •pull out •aftercare 🔗Master List

📖 Proofreader @purejasmine

Pretty Little Secret

The summer barbecue is in full swing, the smell of grilling burgers and sizzling ribs filling the backyard. Your dad, the larger-than-life, no-nonsense actor everyone admires, is holding court at the grill, telling stories that make everyone laugh. But your attention isn’t on him—it’s on Austin Butler.

Austin is your dad’s best friend, though the two couldn’t be more different. Where your dad is gruff and commanding always taking charge, Austin has a laid-back charm, a warmth that makes everyone feel special

They had recently filmed a movie together, a huge hit that had dominated the box office. Your dad couldn’t stop talking about Austin’s talent, his work ethic, or how he was the easiest person he’d ever filmed with. It had turned into endless visits and outings making Austin a near constant presence in your life.

You remember vividly the first time you met him, it was at a dinner party your parents hosted to celebrate one of your dad’s films. Austin walked in effortlessly charming with a gorgeous smile. He was wearing a tailored all black suit that somehow made him look both casual and impossibly put together at the same time.

He had leaned in to greet your dad, laughing at one of his sarcastic remarks, and then his gaze shifted to you. As he introduced himself, it felt like time slowed. “I’m Austin. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting as he extended a hand.

The scent of his cologne drifted toward you—clean, fresh, and utterly intoxicating and his blue eyes were so focused on yours that it made your stomach flip

You’d never felt so self-conscious, so aware of yourself. It wasn’t just that he was stunning—it was the way he carried himself, like he didn’t even have to try to captivate you.

In that moment, everything you knew about life had changed. The way you felt about him was deeper than friendly—it was a feeling that made your heart race every time he was near, something that never happened before.

It was then that you slowly understood why your dad wanted you to stay away from boys—but Austin was a man.

The memory still lingers in your mind as you sit on the patio steps, pretending to read through your book as your eyes kept drifting to him.

Austin is gorgeous, with his effortless smile and the way his hair catches the sunlight just right, like he doesn’t even try to be perfect.

Today, he wears a fitted white t-shirt that hugs his athletic frame, paired with blue jeans that somehow make him look like he’s just stepped out of a magazine. He holds a drink casually in his hand, laughing with your dad as if they’ve been born friends.

He glances your way, catching you mid-stare and your heart leaps into your throat. Instead of looking away, he slowly smiles at you, walking over with a smooth, unhurried strut.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he grins, his voice as warm as the late afternoon sun as he gestures to your sundress. “That color looks nice on you.”

Your cheeks burn so hot you’re sure they match the barbecue flames. “Th-thank you, Austin,” you stutter, looking down and pretending to fidget with your bookmark.

He leans one shoulder casually against the patio railing, his drink balanced effortlessly in his hand as he gazes down at you.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he says, his eyes flicking to yours with a playful glint. “Your dad’s keeping you buried in books again.” he smiles.

You nod, trying to keep your voice steady. “He wants me to do very well in school and get into NYU,” you admit.

He smiles over the rim of his glass, taking a slow sip as his eyes linger on you.

“Figures,” he says, setting the drink down by his side. “He doesn’t strike me as the ‘let you slack off’ type.”

You nod in agreement, smiling slightly.

“Don’t let him keep you too busy though—you’ve gotta have a little fun, right?” He asks with a knowing look.

Your cheeks burn hotter, and your heart thumps so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. “I try,” you say quietly, your cheeks burning brighter under his gaze.

He tilts his head slightly, taking a slow sip from his glass, his eyes narrowing on you just enough to make your insides flutter.

“Any boys keeping you distracted?” he grins, his voice playful, “Or does your dad have them all running scared too?” He asks his tone dropping to something conspiratorial.

You shake your head quickly, your cheeks burning even brighter. “Never boys,” you say with a slight smile as you glance up at him. Your eyes are soft and smitten unable to hide the way you feel about him.

Austin’s grin widens at your reaction, a playful glint flashing in his eyes.

He tips his glass toward you in a way that feels almost like approval. “You’re a good girl,” he says softly, his voice low enough to make your stomach flip, before pushing off the railing.

“I’ll see you around,” he says as he turns to leave, his gaze dropping just slightly, lingering for the briefest second, as if he’s memorizing every detail of the way you look in this moment.

Then, he strolls back to the group, leaving you rooted to the spot, your mind spinning.

The way he talks to you, the way his attention feels like it’s meant just for you, and the way he smiles at you lingers in your thoughts long after he’s gone—You try hard to push your feelings aside, but your completely falling for Austin Butler.

At dinner your dad sits at the head of the table, recounting the highlights of the party with a sly grin. You push your food around your plate, replaying every second of your conversation with Austin in your mind, when your dad suddenly mentions him.

“Austin’s seeing someone new,” he says, taking a bite of steak. “Supermodel. Met her at some gala thing.”

Your heart plummets. You barely hear your mom’s response, something about how strategic Austin is with his girlfriends.

All you can think about is how unfair it feels. You spend the rest of dinner sulking, your appetite gone, barely noticing the way your dad raises an eyebrow at your obvious pout.

Austin doesn’t come around much after that, and you throw yourself into homework and other distractions.

You begin spending hours drawing or listening to music to keep your mind off him, but the house feels emptier without his easy laughter and teasing comments, like a missing piece that leaves everything feeling slightly off.

One day, as you come home from school you see your dad and Austin talking in the kitchen, making you stop in your tracks as you stare in disbelief.

Your dad is showing him how to use the espresso maker, his deep voice rumbling through the space while Austin leans casually against the counter. He’s wearing a soft white henley that clings to him just right, his sandy blonde hair perfectly tousled.

“There she is,” Austin greets, his smile easy as you drop your bag by the door. “How was school?”

“F-fine,” you manage, but your voice comes out quieter than you intend. His attention feels like a spotlight, and the unexpected visit catches you completely off guard. Feeling overwhelmed you quickly run upstairs feeling your cheeks flush warm.

Later that night, your mom comes to check on you while you’re lying in bed. “How’s my girl doing?” she asks affectionately, a laundry basket balanced on her hip.

“Fine,” you reply, though your thoughts are anything but calm.

She sets the basket down and begins placing your folded clothes into the dresser. As she turns to leave, she pauses, her tone softening. “Oh, by the way, Austin’s going to be staying with us for a while. He and his girlfriend broke up, and he’s throwing himself into a new project with your dad.”

The door clicks shut, and you let out a shaky sigh. Austin is staying with you, and he’s just downstairs. He’s heartbroken, and he’ll be living in your house for who knows how long.

The thought is overwhelming, filling your chest with a swirl of emotions—sympathy, excitement, nervousness—and before you can stop yourself, a small smile spreads across your lips.

Over the next few days, you fall into a routine. After school, you come home, finish your homework, and try to act normal whenever Austin is around.

But “normal” feels impossible when he’s sitting on the couch, reading through scripts, or casually fixing himself a snack in the kitchen. His presence fills the house, making it hard to focus on anything but him.

One evening, you’re sketching at the dining table when he walks in, a glass of water in hand. He leans over slightly to see what you’re working on, his cologne faint but intoxicating.

“Beautiful,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “You’re really talented.”

You freeze, gripping your pencil a little tighter. “It’s nothing,” you mumble, your face heating up.

“No, really,” he insists, his gaze lingering on your sketch before flicking to your face. “You’ve got an eye for detail.

Your cheeks flush deeper, and you look away, unable to handle the intensity of his eye contact. “Thanks,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you continue to draw, his compliment stays with you long after he leaves the room, the warmth of his presence lingering like a phantom touch.

Over the next few days, every interaction with him—every soft word or shared smile—feels like a secret you hold close, something just for you.

You can’t help the way your cheeks warm whenever your eyes meet. The way he begins to look at you when you catch him watching makes your stomach flip. His gaze is soft and thoughtful, as though he’s seeing something in you that you don’t fully understand yet.

At night, as you lay in bed, all you do is think about him— how he is downstairs, so close, yet impossibly out of reach.

At dinner the next evening, the table buzzes with lively conversation. Your mom recounts an event she and your dad attended, while Austin chimes in with his easy humor, making your no-nonsense father crack a warm smile.

You, on the other hand, sit quietly, picking at your plate, aware of every occasional brush of Austin’s knee against yours as he shifts in his seat. Your cheeks warm, and you try to focus on your food, but his subtle touch is impossible to ignore.

Midway through the meal, your dad clears his throat. “So, your mom and I are heading out for a few days. There’s a film festival in Cannes we can’t miss. Networking, appearances, you know the drill.”

Your mom smiles warmly at you. “Since it’s your spring break, we thought Austin could keep an eye on you while we’re away.”

You nearly choke on your water at her words, the idea of being alone with Austin catching you completely off guard. Your dad chuckles at your reaction, shaking his head. “He’s staying because I don’t want you to get any ideas—no parties, and absolutely no boys over,” he says, giving you a pointed look.

Your cheeks burn as your gaze flickers toward Austin. He meets your eyes briefly, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips as your heart stumbles in your chest.

“Don’t worry,” Austin says smoothly, his voice calm but tinged with something you can’t quite place. “She’ll be in good hands.”

Your heart thuds harder, and you quickly look down, pretending to focus on your plate as you try to calm your breathing. The rest of the meal passes in a blur, your mind spinning with the realization that you and Austin will be alone in the house together.

Early the next morning, as your parents kiss you goodbye and head out for their flight, you stand at the front door, watching their car disappear down the driveway.

As you turn back inside, your mind races with a mix of excitement and uncertainty, the house feeling bigger, quieter, and full of possibilities.

After finishing breakfast, Austin leans against the counter, drinking tea. His fingers tapping lightly against the mug as he looks out the window at the large pool.

Then he glances at you smiling warmly. “You want to swim?” he asks, his voice casual but inviting.

You hesitate, your cheeks flushing at the thought of being in a bikini around him, your heart racing as his attention lingers.

“C’mon,” he coaxes, his irresistible smile lighting up his face. “It’ll be fun. I promise I won’t splash you too much.”

You smile bashfully and look down as you nod. Unable to meet his gaze for too long, your emotions swirling with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As you turn to leave, you can feel his eyes on you, warm and curious. He’s relaxed, but there’s an edge of something deeper to him—like he’s eager to see you in a way he hasn’t before.

Within five minutes, you’re stepping out to the pool, adjusting the straps of your bikini feeling painfully self-conscious.

Austin is already in the water, leaning casually against the edge, droplets glistening on his toned chest and shoulders in the sunlight. His swim trunks are low on his hips, and his hair is slicked back and wet, the look daring in a way that makes your heart race.

“There she is,” he says with a grin, shielding his eyes from the sun as he watches you.

His eyes linger as you slip into the water, the coolness a welcome relief against your flushed skin. Your movements feel awkward, and you keep your gaze down, sinking until the water covers you up to your chest as you sit on the steps.

“You coming over, or are you just gonna sit there by yourself?” he teases lightly, his voice warm and inviting.

You glance up briefly, your cheeks burning. “Oh—I was just…getting used to the water,” you reply quickly, though it’s his attention that makes you hesitate, but slowly you begin to swim toward him, treading across the large pool.

Your nerves skyrocket as you get closer, your heart pounding in your chest. He watches you with that soft, curious gaze, like he’s waiting for you to say something but your eyes look away.

You feel awkward—your movements uncertain, like you don’t quite belong in the water anymore. The weight of his gaze and the tension in the air make your chest tighten, and for a moment, you consider climbing right out of the pool.

But then he flicks a small splash of water in your direction, catching you off guard.

“Hey!” you squeal, your shyness breaking slightly as you splash back.

“Oh, so you’ve got some fight in you,” he says with a laugh, his grin widening as he dodges your retaliation.

Within moments, the tension shifts, replaced by laughter as the two of you start splashing each other playfully the awkwardness washing away as the water between you is filled with lighthearted chaos.

“Alright,” he says, shielding his face from another of your splashes. “Let’s see if you can actually beat me at something. First one to the other side wins.”

You hesitate for a moment, then nod, your heart thumping with anticipation.

You both push off the wall, your arms slicing through the water as you swim as fast as you can. You can feel him beside you, his movements strong and fluid making you push even harder to keep up. For a moment, it feels impossible to win, but somehow you manage to pull ahead.

You reach the other side first, gasping for air as you cling to the edge.

“I win!” you say, surprised and breathless, turning to him with a triumphant smile.

He leans against the wall beside you, smiling as he lets out a dramatic sigh of defeat.

“You beat me,” he says, his smile widening and for a moment his gaze lingers on you in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

The rest of the afternoon is light and carefree as the two of you lounge on pool floaties, laughter echoing across the water.

He playfully starts sending small waves your way, teasing you until you drift closer, then with a mischievous grin, he reaches out and tugs your waist, pulling you into the water with him.

Every touch and every brush of his hands on you feels exciting and playful, the tension from earlier fading, leaving only the exhilarating sense of being completely in the moment with him.

The two of you start playing a new game diving to the bottom of the pool to retrieve a small diving ring.

You race for it, your fingers brushing as you both reach it at the same time. Laughing and gasping for air, you surface together, water dripping from your faces as you hold the ring between you.

It’s only then you realize how close you are and the laughter fades, replaced by a charged silence as you stare at each other. The interest in his eyes is unmistakable as your heart pounds against your chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice soft, and reverent, his eyes lingering on yours, deeper and more intense, before dropping to your lips.

His own part slightly, his breaths shallow, as if he’s thinking about closing the distance and kissing you.

Your stomach flips, and you quickly look away, trying to hide the heat rising in your cheeks. But the way his gaze stays on you it’s as if he already knows your shyness means you want him, and it makes your heart pound even harder.

Later that evening, after dinner, you find yourselves in the living room. You put on some music from your phone, scrolling through playlists as Austin refills his whiskey glass then comes over and nudges you lightly. “Let’s play a game,” he says, his voice smooth and inviting.

“Okay,” you say, placing your phone in the dock after finding the perfect playlist. Music plays softly through the speakers of the room as you join him on the plush couch. You sit next to him, cross-legged, curiosity piqued by the mischievous grin on his face.

“It’s called Never Have I Ever. Have you played it before?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, his eyes locked on yours.

“No,” you say, shaking your head as you smile.

He leans forward, placing his drink on the end table, his voice low and playful as he explains, “It’s simple. We’ll take turns saying something we’ve never done to know each other better. If you’ve done it, you hold up a finger. If not, you don’t. First one to run out of fingers loses.”

You hesitate, shifting slightly on the couch, but eventually nod when the rules click into place. “Okay,” you say softly, your nervousness and curiosity mixing all at once.

He leans back, his grin easy. “I’ll go first …never have I ever skipped school.” He questions.

You slowly shake your head as you grin, keeping all your fingers down.

Austin smirks, lifting one of his hands and holding up a single finger.

You smile shyly, feeling a flicker of warmth at the thought of Austin as a rebellious teenager. He picks up his glass with his free hand, taking a slow sip.

“It’s your turn. Let’s see what you’ve got,” he says, setting it down, his relaxed posture making it look like he’s having far too much fun already.

You hesitate, then ask, “Never have I ever… been on a movie set.”

Austin’s lips quirk into a grin as he lifts another finger. “That one’s not fair,” he teases, leaning back against the couch. “I practically live on them.”

You grin with a playful glint in your eyes. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t count.”you retort.

He laughs softly, shaking his head. “Your dad would probably say I’ve spent more time on sets than I have at home.”

You smile, tucking your knees under you as you look at him, the warmth of his tone settling into something deeper between you.

Austin’s gaze lingers on you, his grin softening into something more thoughtful, his eyes tracing your face as if he’s thinking of something.

Then he leans slightly forward toward you, resting his elbow on his knee. “Alright, my turn,” he says, his voice lowering just a little, making your pulse quicken.

“Never have I ever… fallen for someone I shouldn’t,” he says, his eyes locking on yours in a way that makes your breath catch.

Your heart races, your cheeks warming as you quickly look away, unsure how to respond. But then, almost instinctively, you lift a finger, your breath shallow as the weight of your confession hangs between you.

He smiles faintly, leaning back and studying you for a moment before lifting his finger as well. “Guess we both have that in common,” he admits softly, his words carrying a weight that makes your stomach flutter.

It’s your turn, but you hesitate before speaking, the question personal to him. Your voice is quieter than before as you ask him. “Never have I ever… had my heart broken.”

His expression shifts slightly, the teasing grin slipping just enough to reveal a flicker of something raw beneath it. Slowly, Austin lifts another finger, his eyes meeting yours with the weight of his recent breakup.

“Never have I ever… been in love,” he says, in retaliation, his gaze holding yours and your heart races again unsure how to answer with your feelings for him. “I-I don’t know,” you say, uncertain.

“There’s one way to find out,” he says with a grin, his posture is relaxed but his eyes remain intently on yours with an intensity beneath his casual demeanor.

“Never have I ever… been kissed,” he says, his tone dropping lower, the question lingering, far more intimate than the others.

Your cheeks burn as you squirm under his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest and when you don’t lift a finger his lips curve into a faint knowing smile.

He leans forward, gently taking your hand in his and before you can fully process what’s happening, he lifts two of your fingers.

There’s a quiet understanding in his eyes, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing and what it means.

Confusion clouds your mind for a brief moment, but the thought vanishes as his lips press softly against yours.

You are stunned, your mind racing until you every thought slips away, the passion in his kiss consuming you entirely.

He pours every unspoken feeling, every unspoken word, into the kiss, his clean, masculine scent intoxicating as it mingles with the faint sweetness of whiskey on his lips.

His hands find your jaw, strong yet gentle, tilting your face up to him as if to ensure you feel every ounce of what he’s giving. Each press of his lips sends a slow, burning heat coursing through your veins, igniting something deep and unstoppable.

When his lips part to deepen the kiss a tingling sensation floods your entire body as your hands instinctively grip the fabric of the couch.

A warmth you’ve never felt before spreads through you, the sensation is overwhelming and perfect, every moment of your first kiss making your heart pound.

His hands gently take your wrists, pulling you closer into the kiss, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

As his lips press against yours, he tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss even more.

A soft sound of pleasure escapes your lips, his kiss so enticingly good, so intoxicating, it feels like nothing else in the world matters.

It’s thrilling and all-consuming as you understand exactly what it means—you want him, you want to stay pressed against him, to keep feeling everything he’s making you feel, every touch and every moment pulling you closer to him in ways you can’t resist.

As his mouth overtakes yours, your heart hammers in your chest, each beat making your blood rush. The more you kiss him the more a soft ache begins to build deep in your core, spreading with the warmth through your body.

You’re trembling, your chest rising and falling faster, trying to make sense of everything you’re feeling as your hips begin gently moving in time with your uneven breaths.

The strange thrilling pressure builds tighter and tighter inside you, leaving you dizzy, your mind spinning as you instinctively kiss him harder.

Your thoughts whirl in a storm of emotions, and before you’re lost to it completely, Austin gently pulls back.

Your eyes meet his, searching, full of questions you can’t yet put into words. The air between you charged with an unspoken energy as he looks at you with a soft smile.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as his hand brushes against your cheek, his touch warm and grounding. His fingers lingering for a moment, his gaze reverent as if he’s memorizing the way you look in this moment.

“We’ll finish our little game later,” he says his voice soft and full of warmth as his thumb grazes your jawline. “I have a few more points I’d like to earn with you .” He smiles, his eyes trailing over your face.

You nod, even though you can’t fully process his words, your breath still uneven, your chest tight with emotions you can’t quite name. The warmth of his touch is soothing on your skin, and a part of you aches for him to stay closer, to keep looking at you like that.

“It’s late,” he says gently, his tone laced with care as his hand drops from your jaw, leaving you feeling a sudden, quiet emptiness where his touch had been. “We should get some sleep.”

Your eyes follow him as he stands, the space between you suddenly feeling far too wide, not wanting him to go, the warmth of his presence already starting to fade.

“Good night,” he says, his lips curving into a soft smile that seems to hold back more than it reveals.

His gaze lingers on you, warm and knowing, as if he’s fully aware of the way he’s just shifted something in your world, then softly he grins before heading to his room.

Realizing he’s leaving, you regain your thoughts and manage to call out after him, “Good night, Austin,” your voice far dreamier than you intended.

As you sit alone, your fingers brush over your lips, replaying every moment of his kiss in your mind. No matter how hard you try to reason with yourself, no matter how much you know this shouldn’t have happened, the warmth of his touch and the way he looked at you lingers, making it impossible to ignore the truth—

You’re completely and hopelessly in love with him.

You take a nice, long shower in your room, your mind filled with thoughts of him, your body feeling changed in ways you can’t quite explain. After drying off, you slip into a soft tank top and a matching shorts, then step into your fuzzy slippers.

The way he kissed you lingers in your mind, making you crave more—not just his touch, but the way he made you feel.

The thought of just being close to him consumes you, like it could somehow solve all your problems.

As you settle into bed, your mind races, the overwhelming urge to be with him building until you can’t resist it any longer.

Without a second thought, you slide out of bed and step into your fuzzy slippers.

Grabbing your phone, you use its faint light to guide you as you quietly pad down the hallway and descend the stairs.

Your heart pounds as you reach the guest side of the house, the hallway stretching out in front of you. The air feels heavy with anticipation as you approach his door.

You notice it’s already slightly open, the faintest glow of light spilling out into the hallway, and without thinking, you gently push it open.

The room is dark, but the soft glow of moonlight filters in through the window, illuminating his form on the bed.

He’s wearing a white tee, his chest rising and falling steadily, his features calm in sleep. You hesitate for a moment, your fingers gripping the doorframe as nerves twist in your stomach.

“Austin,” you whisper sharply, but he doesn’t stir.

You step closer to his bedside, a faint smile on your lips at how peacefully he sleeps.

“Austin,” you say again softly as you touch his arm. This time, he stirs, his eyes slowly blinking before they settle on you.

“Can I sleep in your room?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He gives you a gentle sleepy smile and pats the bed beside him. “Of course,” he mumbles his voice tired.

He moves closer to the edge of the bed to allow space between you, his hand resting on the covers near him creating a subtle boundary.

By the time you pull the covers up to your chin, he’s already drifted back to sleep and slowly, you fall asleep too, feeling content just to be near him.

In the morning, the first rays of sunlight stream through the window, casting a golden glow across the room. You blink against the brightness, wanting to get up and close the drapes, but you freeze when you realize Austin is holding you.

His arm is draped around your waist, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the intimacy of his closeness sending a rush of both excitement and nerves through you.

Your cheeks flush as you wonder if it’s on purpose or simply by habit, but the closeness feels both thrilling and forbidden as you try to calm the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

For a moment, you lie still, unsure of what to do, but then the feeling of his steady breathing against your neck is so intimate that, slowly, almost instinctively, you press back into him, savoring the sensation of his body against yours.

It feels so good to be in his embrace that you close your eyes focusing on the comforting rhythm of his breathing until a hardness pokes insistently against you.

As first you don’t understand what could be resting so low between your thighs, until suddenly you realize —it’s definitely his cock.

A shaky breath escapes your lips as you try to shift away from it, but the movement only traps you further, the pressure rubbing tantalizingly between your legs. Your heart races, and you tell yourself to stop, but the sensation lingers, igniting something deep within you that you can’t ignore.

Before you can stop yourself your curiosity and attraction overpower the voice in your head telling you not to.

Slowly, carefully, you begin to move against him, the subtle motion sending waves of sensation through you. Your eye lids fluttering as the tip of him presses just right, drawing a soft sigh from your lips.

The feeling is intoxicating, the need growing stronger with every movement. You don’t fully understand why you want it so badly, but once you start, you can’t bring yourself to stop.

Each shift of your hips brings a new wave of pleasure, the ache inside of you is throbbing, demanding more.

Austin stirs slightly as your movements become more intentional, your body desperate for the release that hovers just out of reach.

His breathing shifts, deepening as his arm tightens instinctively around your waist. A low, raspy groan escapes his lips, his voice thick with arousal as it breaks the quiet.

“What are you doing to me?” he whispers, his tone both strained and reverent as his hand slides to your hip firmly guiding your movements to be more precise.

Soft cries begin to fall from your lips, each one blending with the haze of pleasure clouding your mind.

He presses against you, as you push against him until you’re practically whimpering, incoherent with a need to satisfy an ache you’re unable to reach, then suddenly —Austin stops.

The stillness leaves you trembling, your body desperate for the relief he’s stolen away.

Before you can protest, he shifts onto his back pulling you on top of him. Your cheek rests on his neck as his chest presses against yours, trapping his hard cock between your bodies.

You can feel the sheer size of him reaching all the way to your naval, his cock warm and firm as it pulses against you.

The ache between your legs throbs painfully against his shaft, your wetness soaking through your panties as you straddle him.

His hand slides to the back of your neck, his touch firm but tender, grounding you in the moment as his lips brush your ear.

“Keep going for me,” he whispers, his voice soft and filled with understanding , each word laced with encouragement that ignites something deep inside you.

A wave of warmth spreads through your core at his words, and slowly, you begin to move, rocking your hips back and forth, the friction soaking his shaft with your arousal.

The sensation is intoxicating, each stroke against his hardness heightening the throbbing need within you.

His hands lower to your waist, steadying you as you find your rhythm, the feeling of him guiding you intensifying the pressure making you whimper softly in his ear.

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, your nails grazing his skin as you push harder against him, the ache transforming into an overwhelming sense of pleasure.

“Just like that,” he whispers, his voice strained with arousal as his hands slide down to your hips, gripping firmly as he guides your movements in to a deeper rhythm that sends shockwaves through your core.

Your breaths grow heavier, your mouth parting as moans spill freely from your lips, your mind clouding with bliss.

The wet friction between you grows more intense, every brush of his shaft against your sensitive clit making you tremble. Overcome by his touch and his words, you begin to move faster, grinding harder, the pleasure building so intensely it’s unbearable.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, his voice full of praise as his hands tighten just enough to keep you steady. He lifts your hips slightly, helping you adjust your angle, and the new position sends a jolt of pleasure racing through your core. Your cries grow louder, more desperate, as he guides you closer to the edge.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body moves instinctively, chasing the release that’s so close it makes you dizzy.

He holds you tighter, his hands guiding your movements with precision, ensuring every grind presses perfectly against him. His deep groans blend with your cries, his pleasure evident in the way his cock twitches beneath you.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his voice heavy with need as his hands firmly grip your hips, forcing you down on him harder. The intensity sends your body spiraling, your breath catching as you writhe in the throes of overstimulation.

You moan loudly, your pleasure building to an overwhelming peak as your thighs tighten squeezing on his waist.

With a sharp cry, you come, the release crashing through you so intense your arousal streams over his cock, soaking him all the way through his boxers.

Austin groans softly, his breathing uneven as he holds you in place until you ride out your orgasm, then his hands gently grip your waist as he carefully lays you back on the bed.

He shifts effortlessly, his movements controlled and patient as he lifts your legs with ease. He slides your panties off with a slow, teasing pull then he parts your thighs wide, settling between them.

His fingertips brush against your soaked entrance, and your hips buck up instinctively, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

He pauses, reading your reaction with tenderness, his thumb gliding over your trembling stomach, soothing the uncertainty that lingers within you.

“I’ll be gentle,” he promises, his voice low and filled with care, his eyes steady on yours and you nod slowly, your cheeks flushed with the heat of anticipation

His fingers glide through your wetness, his touch both teasing and mind-altering as he takes his time exploring every inch of you, savoring how soaked you are.

He slowly presses a single finger inside you, and you gasp, the sensation both foreign and thrilling as your body reacts to him without hesitation, arching toward his touch as a soft, desperate sound falls from your lips.

His fingers are long and skilled and the way he glides just one inside you with perfect precision sends waves of pleasure rippling through your body, making you lose your mind with every firm measured stroke.

He watches your reaction intently, his blue eyes fixed on every gasp and tremble, his lips curving into a grin as you bite your lip, your cheeks flushed with heat.

“Just one finger feels this good?” he asks, his voice filled with teasing admiration. When you nod wordlessly, his grin deepens, and he slowly adds a second finger. The delicate stretch makes you gasp, your hips instinctively lifting toward him.

The sensation of two fingers is almost too much, but his movements are slow and steady, coaxing your body to adjust to him.

The stretch sends surges of pleasure through you, and soft moans begin spilling from your lips as he strokes you from the inside, his fingers curling just right.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers, watching you intently, his fingers moving with precision, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing slow, deliberate circles.

The combined sensations push you higher, your breaths quickening as your body trembles beneath him, teetering on the edge. “You’re doing so well for me,” he praises, his gaze warm and full of pride.

Just as you’re about to come, he presses a third finger inside, the stretch making your mind reel as you let out a desperate cry, your hips bucking against his hand as your body clenches around him.

Your protests dissolve into soft cries as his pace increases, his fingers stretching and preparing you with delicate thrusts. Your stomach tenses beneath his palm, your body chasing the pleasure he’s coaxing out of you.

“Fitting my fingers so perfectly,” he coaxes, his voice a mixture of encouragement and awe. “Wait until I’m inside you,” he promises, his tone lowering as you begin to lose yourself.

His fingers move deeper, stroking you in ways that send shocks of pleasure through every nerve in your body. His thumb continues its rhythmic circles, and as the tension in your core builds to a breaking point, you lose yourself completely, crying out as you your walls flutter tightly, feeling a release soak his fingers.

“Such a good girl” he whispers, his voice soft and full of pride, as he slows his movements, helping you come down from the peak as his other hand brushes over your trembling stomach, soothing you.

“You did so well for me,” he softly praises as he slowly pulls his fingers out. He watches your body shudder in response, the way your thighs tremble beneath him drawing a satisfied smile to his lips.

“You want more, don’t you?” he asks, his voice low and full of promise, his blue eyes dark with desire as they lock onto yours.

Your breath hitches, the lingering sensation of his touch making your head spin, and without hesitation, you nod eagerly, your voice hushed but full of need. “Yes,” you whisper, the word slipping from your lips. “Please, yes.”

His smile deepens, his hand settling on the hem of his shirt. With one smooth motion, he pulls it over his head, revealing the hard lines of his chest and the strength in his shoulders. You can’t help but let your eyes wander, taking him in, your breath catching as your cheeks flush deeply from the sight.

His chest is broad and perfectly sculpted, his abs defined, each muscle catching the soft morning light. The way his body moves, effortless and confidently as he lowers his boxers, only makes the heat inside you burn hotter.

Your eyes lower instinctively, and your breath hitches as you see his cock. He’s thick and incredibly hard, the sheer size of him overwhelming, sending a surge of heat through your core with a mix of awe and fascination.

Austin notices your reaction and grins. “Don’t worry,” he says his tone filled with promise, “We’ll make it fit.”

His words make your face flush hotter, the confidence behind them igniting something deep within as your eyes linger on his perfect physique.

You don’t care how impossible it seems or how overwhelming it feels. You know, without a doubt, you want him.

Austin lowers himself on top of you, his body pressing lightly against yours as he rests on his forearm, his weight supported by his elbow.

His lips find yours first, soft and lingering, his kiss deepening as his hand moves between your bodies, gripping the base of his cock as he guides the thick head along your entrance.

The first push of his tip inside is enough to make your body tense and jump, breaking the kiss. He pauses immediately, his forehead resting gently against yours “We’ll go slowly,” he says against your lips, his tone filled with care.

He kisses you again, this time softer, his lips moving slow and reassuring, coaxing you to relax under his touch. His words and the tenderness of his kiss gradually melt away the tension, drawing you deeper into the moment.

As you get lost in his kiss, your body instinctively softens to him, and he takes his chance. As he presses forward again, the stretch is undeniable, the thick tip of his cock pushing deeper, making you gasp against his lips. He shifts slightly, resting both elbows on either side of you, supporting his weight to focus his penetration.

You feel the growing pressure as he pushes forward, the blunt head stretching you slowly, demanding your body adjust to him. As a moan spills from your lips as a soft breathy groan escapes him, the sounds of your pleasure blending perfectly.

“You’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice edged with restraint as he holds himself back, giving you time to adjust.

The stretch is overwhelming but intoxicating, a mixture of sensations so new and consuming you can’t focus on anything but him.

Your body clenches instinctively, and he stills immediately, his hand moving to your thigh. His thumb traces slow, soothing strokes over your skin, grounding you, his touch steady and tender.

“You’re doing so well for me.” he breathes, his voice thick with reassurance and desire. “Just a little more. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” He says and your eyes lock onto his as you softly nod.

He inches forward with painstaking care, his hips barely rocking as the pressure builds.

You make a high-pitched little cry, your head tossing back until his hand tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Are you my girl?” He asks, his voice low and coaxing, his gaze locking onto yours as he pushes into you slowly, deeply.

Your lungs gasp as he stretches you beyond your capacity, a moan slipping out in a long, trembling sound as his words settle over you.

The pleasure makes your body tense up, your thighs quivering, the intensity of the moment overwhelming until it feels like you might cry.

“Mm —hhh —y-yeah,” is all you finally manage, the word spilling out in a shaky string of sounds, your body trembling as you clutch at the sheets beneath you.

“Yeah?” he repeats as he grins, his voice soft and full of approval. He presses another inch into you, his movements steady and intentional, savoring the way your body struggles to take him.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your temple. “You’re doing so well for me. So beautiful, so perfect.”

His hips press forward again, drawing a higher-pitched cry from your throat, and he smiles, his tone sweet and coaxing as he whispers, “It’s all in now”

He begins to thrust steadily and you take everything he gives. His breaths come in faster, deeper, as the sensation of your tightness begins threatening to overwhelm him. His jaw clenches, his body trembling with restraint as he pushes deeper, harder, his cock twitching inside you.

“Taking me so perfectly,” he rasps, his voice rough, barely controlled. He leans forward, his hand slipping to your waist as he shifts his angle, pulling back slightly before thrusting forward in a slow, deliberate motion that makes you cry out, your head falling back.

“Im so deep” he rasps, his words tense with restraint and awe as his hips roll forward again, pressing into you so completely it feels like he’s everywhere at once.

Your body quivers underneath him, your nails gripping the sheets as his new angle sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“I want you to be mine,” he breathes, his voice low and coaxing as he quickens his pace, his control slipping under the weight of his need.

“You’re all I want, your perfect,” he whispers, his eyes gazing into yours. His hips drive deeper, each thrust sending a shockwave of sensation through you, the ache sinking deep into your core in the most intoxicating way.

His hands slide to your waist, gripping firmly as he pulls you tighter against him, intensifying the connection between you. The relentless pressure leaves you gasping for air, your body trembling as you cling to him.

Your soft cries turn into desperate moans as the stretch and pressure drive you to the edge, your body tightening around him, making him groan. “Squeezing me..— so perfect..you’re so good to me.”he whispers, his tone trembling with intensity.

Your body reacts uncontrollably, clenching and quivering as waves of pleasure ripple through you, the heat building and spreading outward.

The sensation of him stretching you, filling you, and the way he thrusts into you, sends you spiraling.

He groans low and deep, his hips stuttering against yours, his breath catching. “S-so good, I—I’m gonna come,” he rasps, his voice barely coherent, breaking as he grips your hips tightly, anchoring himself to you.

Every sound he makes as his gaze locks onto yours is a raw testament to how much he’s losing himself in you. The pressure inside you peaks, the intensity of his need for you pushing you over the edge. You come undone, breathless, your body shuddering as your orgasm crashes over you.

“That’s my girl,” he says softly, his voice filled with reverence as he withdraws, his cock glistening. Your body quivers, your cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly as he kneels between your thighs, his hand wrapping around his base as he begins stroking his cock, his arm flexing faster with his movements as he watches you.

You can’t take your eyes off him, the way his brow furrows and his jaw clenches as pleasure overtakes him. His lips part, his breathing heavy, and you see every little shudder, every low groan, wishing it was you pulling those sounds from him.

Unable to resist, you guide his other hand to your mouth, your tongue swirling over the pad of his thumb as you suck it gently. His breath catches, his brow knitting tighter as he strokes his cock faster, spurred on by the sight of you. You suck more firmly, hollowing your cheeks, and with a loud groan, his body tenses.

He comes, his release spilling across your stomach as he climaxes, the silky warmth covering your navel while your thighs clench together in response.

He lets out a soft breathy sound as he empties every last drop on you, his chest heaving as he sluggishly grabs his shirt from the bed, carefully wiping you clean.

Once satisfied, he collapses onto the bed beside you and pulls you into his arms, holding you so close you melt against him, your body fitting perfectly to his.

Your breathing slows as the two of you lay together in comfortable silence until he tilts your chin up, his eyes meeting yours.

“You’re my girl now,” he whispers, his voice filled with warmth as his hand strokes your hair. “You’re perfect for me, you know that?”

You smile up at him, turning into some soft needy little thing, utterly lost in the way he looks at you.

His lips brush softly against your temple as he speaks, his voice warm and steady. “We have to tell everyone” he reveals and you freeze, your cheeks burning as you avoid his gaze.

“Austin…” you begin, your voice trembling, unsure of how to respond. “I don’t think I can. My parents would never allow it.”

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t want you to be my pretty little secret. I want everyone to know.” he says with certainty, gently sliding his hand to cup your cheek.

Your chest tightens, guilt mixing with fear as you shake your head. “You don’t understand,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “…M-my dad will kill you.”

Austin’s lips turn into a sly grin, his hand still cupping your cheek. “Your dad is my biggest fan,” he teases, his tone playful.

You blink at him, startled by his confidence. “Austin, I’m serious,” you insist, your voice trembling. “He’s very protective.”

“I know,” he says, his smile softening “But I want you.” He confesses, his thumb stroking your cheek as his gaze locks onto yours.

He pauses for a moment as he notices your worry and slowly interlaces his fingers with yours.

“I want you to be happy with me,” he says, his voice lowering, the vulnerability in his admission making your heart ache. “And I don’t want you to ever worry about what anyone else thinks,” he confesses, and as he looks into your eyes, his conviction is unmistakable.

The weight of his certainty presses against your hesitation, and you feel your defenses softening as you look at him.

Austin’s lips curve into a small, confident smile as his hand gently brushes your cheek.

“Your dad might be intimidating, but it’s because he loves you. And I’ll make sure he knows how much I care about you.”

For a moment, you let his words settle over you as you softly smile, the idea of being with him suddenly feeling less impossible. When Austin leans in to kiss your forehead, the warmth of his lips lingers, grounding you in a way you’ve never felt before.

His arms tighten around you as he holds you close and suddenly the idea of being with Austin shifts from fantasy into something real, something you could actually have.

The rest of the day passes in a haze of affectionate moments . By the pool, Austin sits on one of the lounge chairs with his camera, snapping photos as you lay relaxed on a pool float in the water.

“Turn toward me,” he says, his tone soft but commanding, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks through the lens.

You adjust your position, resting on your side the sun glinting off the water and casting a soft glow over your skin. The gentle waves lap around you, and the warmth of the sun mingles with the intensity of his gaze.

You love the way he looks at you—focused, attentive, like you’re the only thing that matters in that moment. His presence is magnetic, and every click of the camera feels like a quiet acknowledgment of how much he admires you.

After he lowers the camera, his lips curve into a knowing grin.

“You’re stunning,” he says softly, the words making your cheeks flush as warmth spreads up your neck.

He sets the camera aside and moves to sit on the pool’s edge, his feet dipping into the water. His eyes never leave yours, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he crooks his finger, beckoning you to come.

You hesitate for a moment, your nerves fluttering wildly, but his expression is gentle, patient. Bashfully, you lower yourself into the water, gliding toward him until you’re right in front of where he sits.

Without a word, his hands hook under your arms, firm yet gentle , and with an effortless pull, he lifts you out of the water and onto his lap. Droplets slide down your skin as his fingers brush over your cheeks, his gaze locking onto yours making everything else fade away.

He leans in his lips capturing yours in a kiss and your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. As the warmth of his kiss envelops you his hands slides down your back, steadying you as his mouth delicately moves against yours, the connection making your heart race as your thoughts blur.

When he finally pulls back, you’re breathless, your chest rising and falling as his forehead comes to rest gently against yours. His smile is soft but filled with a quiet intensity, his eyes searching yours.

“I don’t want this to ever end,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, his words carrying a weight that leaves you speechless.

You sit there for a moment, wrapped in each others embrace, the surroundings fading as the connection between you grows impossibly stronger. The way he looks at you, as if you’re the only person in his world, making your heart swell with emotion as his words echo in your mind.

Later, after you’ve dried off, you invite him into your room.

The walls are adorned with your artwork—sketches, paintings, and studies of the little details you find beautiful in everyday life. A queen bed sits in the center of the room, covered with soft, inviting blankets and pillows that feel as comforting as a secret haven.

Nearby, your desk, a creative chaos of pencils, brushes, and half-finished drawings, sits under a large window overlooking the pool. The late afternoon light filters through, casting soft shadows across the room, giving your room a warm glow.

Austin steps inside, his gaze sweeping over the space as he smiles. “Your room is amazing,” he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. He steps closer to the wall where your sketches are pinned, leaning in to study each one. “Have you drawn me yet?” He asks with flirtatious curiosity.

You shake your head, nervously. “I… I haven’t I wouldn’t even know where to start.” You say biting back a smile.

“Start now,” he says simply, as he sits on your bed his palms rested back. “Draw me.”

You sigh dreamily as you grab a sketchbook and settle at your desk. Austin sits across from you, his expression softening as he watches you work.

At first, you’re hyper-aware of his gaze, but as your pencil moves across the page, you lose yourself in the rhythm of creating, the lines and shadows taking shape of his beautiful face and neck.

You finish the drawing and hand it to him, your heart pounding as he takes it.

He studies it for a long moment, his expression unreadable, his eyes tracing every line and shadow with an intensity that makes your heart race.

Finally, he looks up at you, his voice soft but full of emotion as he grins. “This is incredible,” he says, holding the sketch as though it’s something precious. “I’m going to frame it at my house.”

You laugh softly, the sound bashful as you lower your gaze, “You love it that much?” You ask your cheeks warming under his attention.

“I love it that much,” he repeats, a grin breaking across his face.

Before you can say more, he leans closer, setting the sketch carefully aside as his hand brushes your cheek. His touch is warm, his thumb gently grazing your skin as he tilts your face up toward him, and then he kisses you.

His lips softly press against yours, and the world around you seems to blur until there’s only him. His hand slides to the back of your neck, as the kiss deepens, and your fingers instinctively clutch his shirt to steady yourself.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, his eyes searching yours with a warmth that leaves you breathless. “Do you know how precious you are?” he asks, his voice filled with soft sincerity.

You look up at him dreamily, your heart fluttering as his words settle over you, his undivided attention making you feel treasured in the most thrilling way.

Dinner is a quiet affair, the two of you sharing smiles and affectionate glances as you eat. The sky outside darkens to deep indigo, the sounds of the night filling the air.

Austin leans back in his chair, his plate nearly empty, as he finally brings up the topic you’ve been avoiding. “Your parents arrive around eight tomorrow, right?” he asks, his voice calm but curious, his eyes studying you with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

You nod, absently pushing your food around your plate. “Yes…I’m so nervous” you reply softly.

Austin leans forward, his hand brushing yours lightly, drawing your gaze to him. “Don’t be,” he says, his voice steady, filled with quiet confidence. “I’ll be here.”he confirms, his thumb lingering against your knuckles.

The warmth in his words calms you slightly, though the thought of your father discovering your relationship with Austin still sends a wave of anxiety through you.

After dinner, as the table is cleared and the night winds down, Austin walks with you to the stairs. At the base he pauses, his hand brushing against yours.

“Good night,” he says softly and he leans in his lips brushing against yours, with a soft kiss.

When he pulls back, his hand remains on yours, his thumb stroking gently over your knuckles. “Sleep well,” he says, his voice low, and you nod, though your heart aches at the thought of parting for the night.

You don’t let go until the very last moment, your fingers reluctantly slipping from his hand as he heads to his room. It feels like a part of you is tethered to him by the quiet promise lingering in his gaze.

During the night you are unable to sleep, the silence of the house feeling oddly oppressive without him nearby.

No matter how many times you close your eyes, your mind drifts back to him, the emptiness of your room only amplifying the ache in your chest.

Finally, unable to rest, you slip out of bed in your pajama shirt stepping into your slippers and padding quietly downstairs to the guest hall.

The faint glow of moonlight filters through the hallway as you approach his room, the door slightly open and you push it gently, careful not to make a sound.

Austin is lying on his bed, propped up slightly against the headboard fingers interlaced on his chest, his face illuminated by the soft light spilling in through the window.

He’s awake, his gaze lifting to meet yours the moment you step inside. A small smile tugs at his lips, and he sits up slowly, the sheet slipping down to reveal his bare chest.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks softly, his voice low and warm.

You shake your head, unable to keep the small smile from your face. “No,” you admit quietly.

“Come here,” he says, his tone inviting as he pats the space between his legs.

Without hesitation, you cross the room and climb onto the bed straddling his lap. His hands wraps around your waist and before you can fully settle, his strong hands guide you back onto the mattress the sheet falling away to reveal he’s already naked.

His touch is gentle as he pulls your oversized shirt over your head, his palms warm as they press against your hips, holding you steady. “I missed you,” he whispers, lips softening into something deeper as his gaze meets yours, and the intensity taking your breath away.

Your heart is pounding as he slowly shifts, his body gliding down the bed with purpose. His hands slide over your thighs, spreading them just enough as his lips trail kisses along your skin, every touch a mix of tenderness and fire. When his face lowers between your legs, you feel a nervous thrill, your pulse racing so fast you’re certain he can hear it.

The first touch of his mouth is euphoric, a sensation so overwhelming that your hips tilt instinctively toward him, seeking more.

You gasp, your fingers curling into the sheets as his lips and tongue move with a precision so pleasurable it makes you dizzy. Each flick of his tongue against you is delicate and perfect, his focus unwavering, leaving you trembling under the weight of his attention.

The rhythm he sets is slow and unhurried savoring every soft moan, every shiver you give him. His mouth moves against you skillfully as he flicks his tongue, coaxing sounds from you that you didn’t know you could make, and just when you think you can’t take any more, he slips one fingers inside.

You moan as he glides it in and out slowly testing your limits, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.

Your breath hitches and your hips tilt instinctively toward him wanting more. His lips curve into a slight, satisfied grin before he adds a second, his fingers working in a steady rhythm that sends your thoughts scattering.

His tongue flicks your clit as you cling to the sheets and just when your body begins to adjust, he slides in a third finger. The stretch is intense, the ache intoxicating, so much so that it’s almost too much to handle.

His fingers curl inside you perfectly as his tongue continues its relentless focus, leaving you trembling. Every nerve feels alive, every sensation heightened as the pressure builds into something overwhelming and utterly consuming.

You’re completely lost in the pleasure he gives, your walls fluttering tightly around his fingers as the tension builds into something unstoppable. It’s mind-numbing, as the world falls away and there’s only him and the way he’s making you feel.

As you orgasm, it’s intense and all consuming and your fingers desperately tangle in his hair, holding him close as he guides you through every last shiver from your body.

You can barely catch your breath, your mind blissfully blank as he looks up at you, his grin softening into something tender, almost reverent.

He slowly rises, his hands resting on your trembling thighs, his thumbs brushing the soft skin as if grounding you. “Are you tired now?” he teases, his voice rich with affection, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

You shake your head no as you grin, unable to form words as your chest rises and falls, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through you. The intensity in his gaze makes your pulse quicken all over again, your body already craving for more.

“Of course you’re not tired,” he mutters with a sly grin, shifting slightly. He balances himself on one of your thighs, his hand moving between his legs as he presses his cock against you, teasing just enough for you to feel him as he positions himself.

You shudder at the sensation, his hardness brushing against your slick warmth, nudging insistently at your entrance. The anticipation coils tightly within you, your breath catching as you feel the pressure building.

He pauses, looking down at you, his free hand brushing your hair back with a tenderness that contrasts the intensity of the moment as his eyes search yours, his gaze deep and steady.

“You ready for me?” he asks, his voice low, almost reverent, as he lowers down, his forearms resting on either side of your head.

You manage a small nod, unable to form words as your chest rises and falls under his gaze and he smiles at your response, his lips finding yours in a kiss so soft and passionate it coaxes you to relax beneath him.

As he breaks the kiss, his focus shifts, and slowly, carefully, he begins to press forward. The tip of him pushes inside, the stretch so tight it steals the air from your lungs and he stops, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Its okay,” he whispers, his voice soothing as his hand cups your face. “Just breathe.” His touch steadies you, his patience evident as he inches forward, the pressure intensifying with every slow movement.

The sensation is overwhelming, your body accommodating him bit by bit, the fullness he creates returning just as intense.

He leans down, kissing you again, this time slower, deeper, grounding you in the connection as he presses further, claiming you completely. His jaw clenches, a groan escaping him as he grips your hip with one hand, steadying himself.

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs, his voice strained. “So tight… so perfect.”

You whimper, your body adjusting to the overwhelming sensation as every inch of him fills you completely. He presses his hips against you and it feels like too much, his cock stretching you in ways that leave you breathless your hands clutching at his shoulders.

He rests his forehead against yours his voice breathless. “You take me so well,” he whispers, his lips brushing yours. “I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”

As he begins to gently thrust your tightness gives way to a pleasure so profound it steals the air from your lungs. His hips roll in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each drag of his cock pulling a moan from your lips. The way you clench around him makes his control falter and he presses deeper, each movement more desperate than the last.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, his eyes locked onto yours, his voice rough with emotion. “So perfect for me.”

The connection between you is overwhelming, his gaze holding yours as your bodies move together. Every deep thrust sends waves of sensation through you as you moan beneath him. His hand slips between you, his thumb finding your clit making your back arch and your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Austin,” you gasp, your voice trembling as your pleasure peaks and he catches your gaze, his intensity pulling you under. “I’m so close,” he whispers, his voice shaky. “I love what you do to me.” He says breathlessly.

His head falls forward, his chest brushing against yours as he thrusts harder, his breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps. His jaw clenches then his lips part slightly as a deep, guttural groan escapes him.

His hips press against you, grinding in a rhythm that’s desperately possessive, his body driven by pure need. You can feel every ounce of his restraint slipping away as he buries himself deeper, the way he moves filling you so completely it leaves you in a state of euphoria.

When his eyes meet yours, his expression is pure, unguarded passion—his lips parted slightly, as his muscles tighten with the effort of holding back, savoring every last second of your pleasure together. The dilated pupils in his blue eyes burn with intensity, a mix of devotion, hunger, and raw vulnerability that makes your heart stutter.

You immediately reach for him, your hands gently cupping his face as you pull him down to you. Your lips crash together in a kiss that’s fiery and unrelenting, his thrusts never faltering as his mouth claims yours. It’s all-consuming, a fusion of passion and connection that sends shivers through your entire body.

His groan vibrates against your lips, his hands tightening their grip on your hips as he matches the rhythm of his kiss to the rhythm of his body, leaving you lost in him, every thrust drawing you closer together.

The moment is so intimate that it pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you as your body clenches around him, and the satisfying little moans you make become his undoing.

His rhythm falters as he buries himself fully, his body shuddering against yours. He holds you tightly, his face buried in your neck as he reaches his peak, his groans mingling with your soft cries.

With a sharp, regretful groan, he quickly slips out of you, his body trembling with the effort to hold back even a second longer. The loss of your tight warmth around him makes him falter, his forehead falling against your shoulder as his hand wraps around his cock.

“I wish I could stay inside you,” he rasps, his voice thick with longing and frustration, every word dripping with the truth of how much he wants you completely. But as his release overtakes him, his restraint crumbles, and his hand moves with desperate intensity.

The first rush of come spills onto your skin, his groan turning guttural filled with unrestrained pleasure and then he gasps, as his body shudders, his release painting you in warm streaks.

You watch his expression torn between adoration and a flicker of longing, his breathing uneven as the last waves of pleasure wash over him.

As he comes down his hand strokes above the mess he’s made, “I’ll always want to be inside you” he says reverently, and then he leans down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, his other hand tracing soothingly over your thigh.

He leaves the bed only for a moment returning to carefully wipe you clean. Then he climbs in beside you resting you against him as he holds your hand in his.

For a moment, neither of you move, your bodies perfect against each other, the connection between you so profound it leaves you both speechless. Slowly, he lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours with a look so full of tenderness it makes your heart ache.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers, brushing a kiss against your forehead, his hand gently stroking your hair. “Everything.”

The next morning, sunlight streams into the room, but you don’t mind. You’re curled up against Austin’s chest, completely content, his steady heartbeat a soothing rhythm against your ear. You’d fallen asleep without even realizing it, and now, wrapped in his warmth, the rest of the world feels a million miles away.

It isn’t until you hear the sound of a car doors slamming outside that your eyes snap open, panic flooding your veins. You sit up quickly, your heart pounding as you recognize the voices coming from downstairs—your parents.

“Where are they?” your dad’s stern voice echoes through the house, commanding and sharp.

“Honey, we’re back” your mom calls sweetly, her tone soft but expectant.

You turn to Austin, wide-eyed and terrified, clutching the blanket to your chest. “They’re home,” you whisper, your voice shaking.

Austin stretches lazily, an amused grin spreading across his face as though this is all some sort of game. “Relax,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing gently down your arm. “I’ll stall for you.”

He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before pulling on his sweats and a white tee.

As he leaves the room you scramble to put your clothing back on, fumbling with your top as you hear Austin down the hall, calm and collected.

“Good morning, wow you guys must be exhausted I’ll definitely start the espressos” he says casually, and you can picture him grinning as though nothing is out of the ordinary.

By the time you manage to creep upstairs, you dive into your bathroom, turning on the shower just as your mom’s soft knock sounds on your door.

“Sweetheart? Come downstairs when you’re ready,” she calls.

“Okay!” you reply loudly, trying to sound as normal as possible while your heart pounds in your chest.

You take a quick shower to calm your nerves, pulling on fresh clothes and towel-drying your hair as fast as possible before heading downstairs.

As you enter the kitchen you can’t even bring yourself to meet your father’s eyes and instead, you rush over to your mom, giving her a quick hug.

Austin is seated at the table, espresso in hand, grinning like he doesn’t have a care in the world. His relaxed demeanor only heightens your anxiety as you glance nervously at your dad, who watches you closely, his espresso hovering midair.

“Everything go well while we were gone?” He asks, his tone casual but his sharp gaze narrowing slightly.

You swallow hard and nod quickly. “Y-yeah. Everything was fine,” you stammer, feeling your cheeks burn.

“Why are you acting all skittish?” he asks, his brow furrowing as his eyes look you over clearly mulling over your flustered state.

Your stomach twists, and you feel like bolting from the room until Austin, grins and says, “She kept staying up past her bedtime.”

Your mom and dad exchange amused looks as they chuckle softly. Your dad shakes his head, pulling you into a quick hug. “I missed you, kid,” he says gruffly, and for a moment, the tension eases as you hug him back.

The rest of the day feels like a balancing act. You and Austin join your parents for breakfast as they recount stories from the film festival, but your mind is elsewhere, constantly on edge as Austin runs his hand along your thigh under the table, squeezing gently enough make you breath catch.

After breakfast as you’re putting the ingredients away in the pantry, he slips in behind you carrying a loaf of bread. His presence mischievous as he leans close“Can I tell them yet ?” He whispers.

You’re stunned and before you can answer, he kisses your lips, lingering just a second too long. You push at him, trying to keep your composure, but you grin your heart racing as he slips out, leaving you flustered.

Later, as you walk past the living room, you catch Austin and your dad deep in conversation about an upcoming project.

Your dad is at the bar cart, pouring drinks, while Austin sits back in one of the leather armchairs, his posture relaxed, one ankle resting on his knee.

You try to walk through quietly, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself, but but as you pass by Austin’s chair his hand brushes against your hip, squeezing it firmly.

Your breath catches, your entire body tensing as heat rushes to your face. Austin grins at your flustered state, his hand settling back casually on the armrest as though nothing happened.

Your dad pauses mid-sentence, his words hanging in the air as he turns slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he’s trying to figure out what just happened.

Austin, unfazed, leans forward slightly in his chair, drawing attention back to himself. “You still thinking about filming in the fall?” he asks smoothly.

Your dad grunts in agreement, nodding as he turns back to pour the second glass. “Seems like a good time for it—less competition for the filming location.”he says, distracted again.

Taking the opportunity, Austin turns his head toward you, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he mouths, Now?

You shake your head frantically, your eyes wide, a mix of panic and disbelief flashing across your face. He grins, clearly enjoying your reaction, and you scurry off, your heart pounding as you make it to the safety of the hallway.

The sound of their conversation fades behind you, but the moment lingers, leaving you breathless and more flustered than ever.

The mix of nervousness and thrill leaves you on edge, every small interaction with Austin feeling like a dangerous yet irresistible game.

In the evening the dining room buzzes with lively conversation, the large round table set elegantly under a soft glow.

The scent of roasted vegetables and herbed chicken fills the air as your mom recounts a story from their trip, her voice animated as laughter ripples around the room.

You sit quietly, unable to focus. Every glance at Austin sends your thoughts spinning. He’s seated beside you, the warm glow of the room making him look ethereal like he’s stepped of a portrait, effortlessly perfect.

As he listens to your parents, he takes a sip of wine, his gaze flicking to you with a grin that makes your heart race.

Your breath catches when his hand brushes against your thigh as he sets his glass down. His fingers linger for a moment before he takes your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. Your gaze meets his, and he offers you a soft, reassuring smile.

And then, to your utter shock, he brings your joined hands up, placing them deliberately on the table in full view of your parents.

The clinking of silverware stops and the room falls into a sudden, deafening silence.

Your father freezes mid-sip of his wine, his sharp, commanding gaze locking onto your intertwined hands.

“I knew it!” he exclaims, his loud voice heavy with an intensity that makes you flinch. The words echo in the room, and your heart sinks as fear knots your stomach. You stare at the polished wood of the table, cheeks burning, your hand trembling in Austin’s grasp.

You can’t bring yourself to look up, the weight of your guilt suffocating. Your mind races, bracing for his anger and disappointment.

But then Austin’s grip tightens slightly signaling you to look up.

Slowly, hesitantly, you lift your gaze, expecting the worst. Instead, you’re met with a sight that leaves you stunned.

Your father’s face is flushed, his cheeks red—not with anger, but with a wide grin spread across his face. His dark eyes, so often stern and unreadable, gleam with unmistakable pride.

“I knew you two had it in for each other!” your dad yells with a loud laugh that fills the room. “I told you, honey,” he adds, nudging your mom as he pushes his chair back and stands.

His imposing presence, which always made him seem larger than life, is now softened by overwhelming joy.

Your breath escapes in a shaky rush, the tension in your chest melting away as relief floods through you. Your dad comes around the table, his gruff demeanor cracking entirely as he claps a hand on Austin’s shoulder, then pulls him up into a quick, firm, heartfelt hug.

“I’ve been rooting for this all along,” your dad admits, his voice gruff but filled with warmth. “If it had to be anyone, I’m glad it’s you, Austin.”

Austin smiles, a rare bashfulness showing through. “She’s in good hands,” he says, his tone steady but full of quiet conviction.

Your dad’s gaze softens further as he places a hand on your shoulder. “This brings me so much joy,” he says sincerely, his smile unwavering as he looks at you both with pride.

Austin glances at you, his eyes shining with warmth and affection, and you feel the world tilt slightly, your heart pounding in your chest.

Your mom claps her hands together, breaking the moment. “Come on, honey, let’s have a toast—our daughter is dating Austin Butler!” she exclaims, laughing in delight as she reaches for the wine bottle to pour another round.

As Austin sits back down beside you, he squeezes your hand on the table, your fingers intertwining with his as he leans in, placing a soft affectionate kiss on your cheek.

Gazing into his eyes you feel a sense of gratitude and relief wash over you, and for the first time, you let yourself fully believe what Austin has known all along: you’re meant to be

🌹End

🔗 Master List

🏷️ Always Tag Me List

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[ask-hank]

The only stove in the hotel exploded and it'll be two weeks before anyone can come look at it. Do you have any propane grills you could recommend in the meantime? ...Preferably that sell to... Well... Hell...

@ask-vaggie

Heh heh, Why sure, what you need is the Vogner Charking Imperial. Not only will it cook a steak or burger to perfection, but propane is a clean burning fuel so you'll taste the meat and not the heat. Now let me know if Lucifer needs some propane to run the flames down there. It'll be a clean burning Hell, I tell you h'what.

[dadvans]

memorial day

Memorial Day is always the Monday to end all Mondays, year after year. Buck discovers it’s a little bit better when you have a guy waiting for you after a stupid shift and you both get to trade war stories.

Tommy greets him with a kiss and presses two beers from a six pack to his hands when Buck lets him in, then walks over to the kitchen to put the other four away.

“I don’t know about you, but my stupidest call today was putting out a brush fire caused by a gender reveal party. You’d think after El Dorado people would fucking learn, but holiday weekends always bring out the idiots.” He opens the refrigerator door and spots the saran wrapped plate Buck left there for him. “Or maybe you had a much better day than me. Bobby cook?”

“No, uh, actually,” Buck says, hunting for the church key in the drawer behind him. “My stupidest call of the day would be the neighborhood barbecue brawl that broke out. Three guys arguing over who would man the grill. The backyard seemed salvageable when we left, but one guy’s face not so much after another dad tried to give it the smash burger treatment on an open flame. Some families were so embarrassed they actually sent us home with leftovers. I was able to weasel out a second plate for you.”

“Evan.” Tommy takes the plate out and stares down at it with a confused little smile, what Buck has taken to calling his Who Me? face in his head.

“It wasn’t hard, pretty sure Athena and Maddie and Karen got one too. Anyway, you should try the potato salad. Apparently, it’s grandma’s famous recipe.”

Buck cracks the caps off both of their beers and replaces the church key with a fork for Tommy. Tommy gives him another look before digging in. One bite of potato salad in and his eyes are rolling back in his head.

“Fuck, I love you,” he says, meaningfully at the plate and not at Buck.

Buck laughs. “Wings aren’t bad either. Cole slaw I can do better.”

“Sure,” Tommy replies graciously. He picks up a chicken wing and has the meat practically sucked off the bone in two bites. “I can’t remember the last time I spent one of these actually getting to enjoy part of it.”

Later, after Buck gets him to wipe the buffalo sauce off the corner of his mouth, Tommy gets on his knees for Buck and shows him exactly how grateful he is with a fairly luxurious blowjob. Buck comes down the back of his throat and slurs out a thank you for your service, to which Tommy playfully flips him off. And he’s no potato salad, Tommy didn’t need to say it, but he’s feeling pretty loved too.

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie using any open flame to light his cigarette

(a blurb that appeared in my head when I saw this picture)

Eddie smoked cigarettes almost all the time. When he was stressed, mad, or even relaxed. His lips craved to taste the paper as he held it between his lips. Plus, his girlfriend couldn't stop staring at him when he did it. He enjoyed how she'd drooled as he blew the smoke into the air.

So when his only lighter broke, he was pissed. Sure, he could easily go buy a new one, but Eddie made everything difficult.

~~~

Y/N wanted to make cookies, and Eddie didn't have a choice. He stood in grey sweatpants, his flannel unbuttoned with his chest bare underneath. Y/N tried to focus on the cookies in the oven, but Eddie's naked skin was too distracting. Eddie wasn't paying a single thought to the cookies, ranting about something he thought was stupid as he paced around their tiny kitchen.

All his words went out of her ears. She was almost hypnotized, it felt like. She couldn't focus on anything except for his skin.

Then the smoke alarm blasted, and she snapped back to reality. Eddie rolled his eyes at the interruption. She was quick to open the oven, the cookies burning as she pulled it out. Tiny flames rose from the pan, causing her to quickly throw the pan on top of the oven. She raced to grab water, filling a cup as she quickly turned.

"EDDIE!" she panicked, his face nearly in the flames when she turned back to him.

She quickly dumped the water on the pan, staring at Eddie with a puzzled look.

"What?" He shrugged, a cigarette now lit in his mouth.

"DID YOU USE THE FIRE TO LIGHT THAT?" she screamed.

"My lighter is broken!"

~~~

"Okay so three hot dogs, and four burgers," Y/N said, telling Eddie as she opened a new package of buns.

"On it, boss." He joked, adding the meat on the grill.

The couple decided to host a big dinner for the group. Hot dogs, burgers, and outdoor games. The group was playing soccer, as Y/N and Eddie prepared dinner.

Eddie hummed a song as he flipped the hot dogs and burgers. His eyes caught the flames and a familiar idea popped into his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

Y/N was grabbing chips from the kitchen when she walked back outside

"EDWARD!" She yelled, marching over to him. Once again, his head was near the flame as he lit the cigarette.

"My lighter is broken!"

~~~

The weather felt amazing, so Eddie and Y/N took a trip to the beach, bringing Dustin along. Dustin spent hours in the water as Y/N kept a close eye on him.

Eddie put together the fire and took out the ingredients he bought for s'mores.

"COME ON BUD! S'MORES TIME!" Eddie yelled, Dustin immediately ran out of the water. Taking the towel Y/N held out for him.

Y/N smiled as she watched Eddie help Dustin get the marshmallow ready to burn. It was like watching two children.

"I CAN DO IT!" Dustin yelled, which resulted in a smack in the head from Eddie.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she prepared the cracker and chocolate, sitting close as Dustin roasted his marshmallow. Once it caught fire, he took it out of the fire.

Before Y/N could smash the marshmallow between the crackers, Eddie was in the flame.

"EDWARD MUNSON!" She screamed. A cigarette hanging from his mouth as the end burned.

"MY LIGHT IS BROKE!N"

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A recent Ask I got about Soldier Boy (Ben) cooking fails made me think of this. We know Dean Winchester would be the best cook, but who do you think is the worst cook: Beau Arlen, Russell Shaw, or SB/Ben? 😂

I just saw that and was thinking how utterly ridiculous Soldier Boy/Ben would be trying to fend for himself 😂

Who's the worst cook out of Beau Arlen, Russell Shaw or Soldier Boy/Ben?

Beau Arlen

Beau's not a great cook but he's got a few staples under his belt he can pull off, especially since he's a bit of a foodie. I feel like as Emily grew, he learned he had to up his game from dino nuggets, box mac & cheese and a basic sandwiches. Beau is DEFINITELY a grill guy and would feel more comfortable cooking some burgers or steaks over an open flame than behind a stove. But I feel like Beau is a comfort food guy and knows how to pull together a somewhat balanced meal for him and Emily most nights of the week but is never opposed to grabbing a bite out.

Russell Shaw

Russell is, imo, the best cook behind Dean. He might not have the most settled of home environments but I think the man loves his international cuisine and it's something he and his shadowy team of friends enjoy to do together. I'm thinking big family gatherings on breaks between missions where they go potluck style and Russell always is the one to try out new dishes to the group. He would have grown up with a slightly more normal childhood than Colter and Dory before moving to the compound and I feel like during his teen years he would have missed the diversity in his food. Plus, Russell is a man of many talents and I don't think screwing up in a kitchen scares him in the slightest.

Soldier Boy/Ben

He's the worst cook. 100%. No room for argument here. 😂 Ben can barely handle a Keurig let alone the idea of meal prep. At most he can handle toast and maaaaaaaybe scrambled eggs on a good day. I well and truly don't think he's had to cook for himself ever. As a child, the nannies cared for him, as a young man it was the staff of his parents estate. Once he became Soldier Boy, it was Vought mothering him and he had enough money his entire life to have food ready at his beck and call, even during the great depression. But I do think for the right girl (and maybe twenty years), he might be able to master the microwave and air fryer to survive on his own. 😂

So yeah, I don't think there's much debate on Soldier Boy being the worst lol. Thank you for the ask and this mini headcanon! What do you think about where Beau and Russell fall in the mix?

[yarrayora]

because of the lack of female protagonists in... pretty much every genre, really, people tend to hype up a lot of series as "better than the average [insert genre]" just because it has a female protagonist rather than male

(personally i think girls deserve formulaic schlock, too, like how bofuri is basically the average MMOVR with a black haired plain looking boy repeatedly stumbling upon cheat powers except the protagonist is a girl)

but when i look for new titles saying "i want interesting worldbuilding where we get to see how this fantasy world works as a society and the court intrigue goes beyond high school level mean girl bullying" and people respond with titles like "i'm in love with the villainess" it's like asking for a grilled steak and getting handed a hamburger

burger's good, but not what i'm looking for

so here's a list of my manga/webtoon recommendations for stories of political intrigue in fantasy worlds with a female protagonist (not all of them are isekai or regression or reincarnation, most are straight up just fantasy world):

The Holy Grail of Eris

The story of a kingdom after the villainess is executed for attempting to poison the heroine beloved by the crown prince. Our protagonist is Constance Grail who finds herself being haunted by the ghost of the villainess Scarlet Castiel who saved her from suffering the humiliation of having her engagement broken because of a false accusation.

Scarlet claims that she has been framed, and together the duo is set to find out the truth regarding her death sentence.

Saying more than this would ruin the plot twists, but read this if you're interested in a story where it makes sense for a ducal daughter to be sacrificed in exchange for a lady of a lower class as the nation's queen.

Itsuwari no Freya (localized as Prince Freya)

A small kingdom struggles to defend itself against a powerful warmongering kingdom with the leadership of their cunning prince. Except, the prince has died. To prevent the flame of hope from being extinguished, the prince's inner circle employs the aid of Freya, a village maiden with the same face as the late prince.

There is no time to prepare her to learn the ropes of politics. Now Freya must plunge immediately into international turmoil and figure out a way to secure support from other nations with the help of the prince's knights and, of course, her own charisma and intelligence.

Ebony (localized as Lady Evony)

Sensational news sweeps the nation: the Grand Duke has put a criminal under his protection. Evony was accused of her father's murder and ended up suffering all kinds of abuse in the hands of the prison wardens who despise her.

Yet her time at the women's prison was also the only time she was able to gain education in a misogynistic nation who still bars women from learning while other countries have a headmistress for their famous college and traveling tradeswomen.

As she heals from the wounds inflicted both on her body and her heart, she realizes she wants to become someone who can stand equal to the Grand Duke and not just a fragile flower to be protected in his garden.

Great if you're looking for slow burn romance where the main couple are equals instead of the usual "obsessive yandere male lead who holds to power/lovely lady who struggles to be useful" or "stupid but doting male lead who needs his very smart lady to show him the way"

Also great if you're looking for a korean webtoon where all their problems CANNOT be solved by the protagonists being wealthy capitalists

The Falcon Princess

While other webtoons tend to focus on noblewomen's tea parties as a source of conflict, The Falcon Princess focuses on a kingdom in the middle of being invaded.

The protagonist is a princess on the run when the imperial palace ends up ransacked by the enemy nation. She wakes up as a falcon and ends up finding herself as her kingdom's commander's messenger bird.

Despite the language barrier, the princess helps the commander figure out the enemy's location, strategy, and various ways to defeat them and finds herself becoming a symbol of hope who leads the army into reclaiming her nation.

JK Haru is a Sex Worker in Another World

Last but not least but is definitely the most controversial pick. Haru is a girl who gets reincarnated in another world after she got hit by a truck alongside her otaku classmate.

While said otaku is living his best life as his power fantasy becomes a reality, Haru refuses to be his girl in exchange for a comfortable life, even though the only job she could have in a misogynistic world where women can't even eat at a restaurant without a chaperone is at a brothel.

And yet, she doesn't hate it. Although the customers can be rough, she befriends the other prostitutes at the brothel and figures out how to enjoy her job. It's a story that depicts sex workers with respect, acknowledging their struggles without turning it into misery porn.

It also asks an important question regarding the trope of "overpowered isekaid protagonist changes the world for the better": CAN they actually change the world just because they have cheat powers? After all, societal issue isn't something you can solve using brute force and money alone

[quichein-me-softly]

grillby sfw headcanons pt. one

(boredom strikes again!)

He is quite sad he can’t make snowmen, especially after all his time in Snowdin. Some regulars made a snowman in thought of him and he discounts most of their drinks now.

Knows Victorian flower language (what different pairings of flowers, their colors, number of leaves, etc. mean). Grillby likes to give his partner just-because flowers, such as the obvious rose and baby’s breath. Also will put together dogwood, forget-me-nots, and apple blossom to atone for an argument or fight—not that those happen often.

Dogwood symbolizes deep affection, endurance, and surmounting adversity. Forget-me-nots symbolizes true love, devotion, and enduring connection. Apple blossom symbolizes preference, essentially meaning, “I choose you.” But you get the point.

Since he is a reserved monster, he cares through his actions, not his words. This means that he will buy you eighty dozen donuts—all in different flavors—if you mentioned you were craving some the day before.

Knows French. It just makes sense for some reason.

Grillby enjoys calligraphy and has a collection of fancy fountain pens along with different colored ink. Adding onto this detail, he prefers to write letters rather than texts when trying to convey intimate/personal feelings and matters.

Writes poetry under the pen name “G.B. Ignis.” (He gets the G.B. from his name, Grill-by. Ignis was just an add-on.)

Great cuddler. Besides from his obvious heating qualities, he will run his hands through your hair and draw soothing circles into your back. He likes to listen to his partner’s heartbeat and finds it calming.

Actually prefers hard liquor over wine, but the latter is a very close favorite. Probably a gin and tonic—or just straight up gin—type of guy as it’s a classic bar staple. Usually drinks his liquor in cocktail form, it just sorta fits his sophisticated vibe.

Though his bar’s menu consists of the usual burger, fries, salad, etc. He enjoys cooking more gourmet food and often makes hearty and filling home-cooked meals for his loved ones.

Despite his fiery exterior, he doesn’t really like spicy foods, or is indifferent about it at the very least.

Another little surprise, he prefers the cold, which explains why he resided in Snowdin when monsters were still in the Underground.

When he moved away from Hotlands, he was mortified to cross through Waterfall, his flames flickered and jumped in fear as he carried his luggage onto the River Person’s boat.