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lxndonorris · 5 months ago

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tender waves - Lando Norris

Y/N x Lando Norris Theme: Smut sharing in intimate moment between the tender waves x word count: 7200+ taglist: @game-set-canet thank you @pitstopreality-f1 for the help :)

The summer sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the secluded beach. The soft, rhytmic lapping of waves against the shore provides a soothing soundtrack, punctuated by the occasional call of a seagull. The scent of saltwater fills the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the sand beneath you. The perfect day, one that feels stolen from the everyday hustle of life, like a secret only you know.

Lando insisted on driving you there—to this hidden gem of a beach, far away from the crowds. "Just us," he said, his voice full of excitement, the way it always was when he talked about his plans for the two of you. And true to his word, it is just you—no fans, no paparazzi—just the sun, the sand, and the vast expanse of the ocean stretching out before you.

You lie on your stomach, the towel beneath you soft and warm from the sun. Your bathing suit—a vibrant shade of turquoise that Lando complimented several times that morning—clings to your skin; the material cool against the heat of the day. Your body relaxes, sinking into the towel, as the sun's rays kiss your back, lulling you into blissful contentment.

Beside you, Lando lies on his side, propped up on one arm. His other hand traces lazy patterns along your arm; his fingers light as a feather as they dance over your skin. The sensation is soothing, almost hypnotic, and you find yourself focusing on it, enjoying the simple, affectionate gesture. You feel his warmth radiating next to you; his presence a comforting constant, grounding you in this moment.

You turn your head to look at him, the motion slow and deliberate, savoring the sight of him as your eyes take in every detail.

Lando looks effortlessly handsome, his tousled hair catching the light and the strands a mix of sun-kissed gold and chestnut brown. His skin, tanned from hours spent outdoors, is a beautiful contrast against the white sand, his muscles defined and relaxed. There is something that draws you in and holds you captive.

He is gazing at his fingers as they trail along your arm, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips. His eyes, a rich shade of hazel, follow the path of his touch, but as if sensing your gaze, they flick up to meet yours. For a moment, you just look at each other, the world around you fading into the background.

His smile widens, a hint of bashfulness creeping into it as he brings his hand to his chest, rubbing at the skin there almost absentmindedly. You notice the faint flush creeping up his neck, a soft pink that deepens as it spreads to his cheeks. It is endearing to see him like this—so confident on the track yet so adorably shy in moments like these.

"You look so good, you know," you say, your voice low and warm, the words slipping out almost on their own. You reach out, your fingers brushing against his as you speak. "But you're turning red, Lando. I think you need some sunscreen."

Lando chuckles softly; the sound a mix of amusement and embarrassment. "Yeah, maybe I do," he agrees, his tone light but with a telltale smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. There is a glint in his eyes now, playful and teasing, as if he is already imagining the next few moments.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, shifting so that you sit beside him. "Here," you offer, reaching for the bottle of sunscreen that lies discarded on the towel.

You squeeze a generous amount into your palm, the cool lotion contrasting with the warmth of the sun on your skin.

"Let me help."

Lando watches you with a mischievous smile, his eyes following your every movement as you rub the sunscreen between your hands, warming it up before you begin to apply it to his chest. His skin is hot under your touch, a reminder of how long you were out here in the sun.

You start at his shoulders, smoothing the lotion over the firm muscles there, your hands working in slow, deliberate strokes.

Lando closes his eyes, his breathing steady and relaxed, as if your touch is as soothing for him as his was for you. You feel the tension melting away from his body, the knots of stress from weeks of racing and traveling unraveling under your fingertips.

"You really needed this, didn't you?" You murmur, your hands moving down to his arms, covering every inch of his skin with the protective layer of sunscreen.

"Mmm, yeah," he admits, his voice soft and content. "This whole summer break... I've been looking forward to it. But more than that, I've been looking forward to this. Just...us."

His words send a warm, fluttering feeling through you, and you can't help but smile. Lando was always good at making you feel special, but it is moments like these—so simple yet so full of meaning—that truly make you realize how much you love him.

"Me too," you reply, your hands moving to his chest now, spreading the sunscreen across the smooth planes of muscle. You feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, a reminder of the life and energy that define him.

"It's been nice, hasn't it? Not having to worry about schedules of flights or races... just being together."

Lando nods, his eyes still closed, a peaceful expression on his face.

"Yeah, it's perfect."

You fall into a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the gentle rustle of the breeze and the occasional hiss of the waves. Your hands continue their work, moving across his chest, down his sides, over his stomach, until every inch of exposed skin is covered.

When you are done, you sit back on your heels, admiring your work. Lando's skin glistens in the sunlight, the sunscreen giving him a slightly glossy sheen. He looks even more breathtaking, if that is possible, the golden hue of his tan contrasting beautifully with the white sand and the deep blue of the ocean beyond.

Lando opens his eyes, blinking up at you with a lazy smile.

"Thanks," he says, his voice thick with relaxation. "You always know how to take care of me."

"Of course," you reply, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips—a brief, gentle kiss—but it is enough to make your heart skip a beat. "Now you can relax without worrying about getting sunburned."

He grins, pulling you down beside him. "You're the best," he murmurs, his arm wrapping around your waist as he draws you close. You settle back onto the towel, this time with you curled up against his side, your bodies pressed together in a comfortable tangle of limbs.

For a while, you just lie there, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the feel of each other's presence. It is one of those perfect moments where everything feels right and nothing else matters.

As the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the sand, Lando shifts beside you, propping himself up on one elbow. His eyes are bright, and his expression full of the familiar spark of mischief that you know so well.

"You know," he begins, his voice low and teasing. "I think it's your turn now."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "My turn for what?"

He reaches for the sunscreen, holding it up with a grin.

"Your turn for some sunscreen. Can't have you getting sunburned, can we?"

You laugh, shaking your head.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

He just smiles—that boyish, irresistible smile that always makes your heart melt.

"Yeah, but you love me anyway."

There is no arguing that.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you turn onto your stomach, resting your head on your folded arms as you stretch out on the towel. You feel Lando's eyes on you; the heat of his gaze almost as warm as the sun itself.

He is taking his time, you realize, and the thought makes your heart race with anticipation.

Finally, you feel the cool touch of the lotion on your back, followed by the gentle pressure of Lando's hands as he begins to rub it in.

His touch is slow and deliberate, his fingers tracing the contours of your shoulders and down the length of your spine. It is soothing, just like before, but there is something else in it too—something that makes your skin tingle and your breath catch in your throat.

Lando's hands move lower, massaging the sunscreen into your lower back, his fingers kneading the muscles there with just the right amount of pressure. You let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing completely under his touch. It feels so good, so intimate, that you can't help but close your eyes and savor the moment.

He works in silence, his hands moving with a rhythm that is both calming and sensual. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the steady rise and fall of his breath as he focuses on the task at hand—a simple act, really, but the way he does it—so careful, so attentive—makes it feel like so much more.

Then, Lando's hands linger on your lower back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin as he continued applying sunscreen. Suddenly, as his hands move a little lower, just above the curve of your hips, you feel him lean down, his breath hot against the shell of your ear.

"You know," he whispers, his voice low and teasing, "this is really nice... but it's doing something to me."

There is a playful edge to his tone, but underneath it, you sense something else—something darker, more intense. You feel a shiver run through you as you turn your head slightly to catch his gaze.

His hazel eyes are filled with that familiar mischief, but there is a flicker of something deeper, more primal, that sends your heart racing.

"Lando," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, but before you can say anything else, he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

"I'm growing hard," he confesses, his voice a husky whisper that sends a surge of heat through your body. His words are bold, but there is a softness to them—a playful undertone that makes your pulse quicken.

You feel your breath hitch as the implications of his words sink in. His hands, still resting on your lower back, tighten their grip slightly, just enough to let you know he is serious about it all.

You feel the heat radiating from his body even more now, his arousal unmistakable, even before he gently presses his hips against yours.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the unmistakable hardness of him pressing against you, even through the thin fabric of your swimwear.

Lando moves slowly, carefully, making sure not to put too much weight on you as he positions himself on top of you. His body is warm, his skin hot from the sun, and the feel of him against you is enough to send a shiver of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Lando," you breathe, your voice barely more than a whisper, as you feel him shift slightly, his hips pressing a little more firmly against you. There is no denying the effect this is having on both of you, and you feel your own arousal growing in response to his.

He lets out a soft, almost inaudible groan, his breath warm against the nape of your neck.

"You have no idea how much I want you right now," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with desire. "But we're out here in the open..."

There is a teasing lilt to his words, as if he is enjoying the fact that you are in such a public place yet completely hidden from the world. It is thrilling and slightly forbidden knowing that you are alone on this secluded beach, the vastness of the ocean stretching out before you, but the possibility of being seen is still there. It adds an extra layer of excitement, making everything feel that much more intense.

Lando shifts again, his hips pressing even more firmly against you, and you feel the full length of his arousal now, hard and insistent against your lower back. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and you can't help but arch your back slightly, pressing up against him in response.

His breath hitches, and you feel him tense slightly, as if he is holding himself back. His hands move from your back to your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter.

He is so close, his body warm and solid against you, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to turn over and pull him down on top of you completely.

"Lando," you whisper again, your voice trembling with desire, "what are you doing?"

He chuckles softly, the sound low and rich, as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder.

"Just making sure you're well protected from the sun," he teases, his lips brushing against your skin with every word. "Can't have you getting burned, can we?"

His words are light, but the way he is pressing against you, the way his breath is coming in short, heated bursts, tells a different story. You feel the tension in his body—the barely restrained desire that is simmering just below the surface.

Lando shifts slightly, his hands moving up to rest on your shoulders, and for a moment, he just stays there, his chest pressed against your back, his breath warm against your neck. It is an intimate, almost possessive gesture, and you find yourself biting your lip to keep you from making a sound as his hips press even more firmly against you.

"Babè," you murmur, your voice trembling with need, "this is..."

"Yeah," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "I know."

For a moment, you just stay like that, your bodies pressed together, the tension between you thick and electric. The feel of his arousal against you is almost too much to bear, and you feel your own desire growing with every passing second.

But then, just as quickly as he initiated the contact, Lando pulls back slightly, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

"We shouldn't," he says, his voice low and filled with regret, even as his hands linger on your skin, as if he can't quite bring himself to pull away completely. "Not here."

You nod, even though he can't see you, understanding what he means even as your body screams for more. The thrill of being so close, of feeling his desire so plainly is intoxicating, but there is a part of you that knows he is right.

You turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. There is a fire in his gaze, a hunger that mirrors your own, and it is enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

"Lando," you whisper, reaching up to run your fingers through his tousled hair. "Later?"

He nods, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips. "Definetly later."

With that, he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, his touch gentle yet full of promise. It is enough to make you ache with longing.

Lando carefully climbs off you, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. The absence of his warmth leaves your skin tingling, the memory of his weight pressing against you still fresh in your mind.

You feel the tension between you, thick and undeniable, as you roll onto your back to face him.

His eyes meet yours, a mixture of desire and restraint flickering in those hazel depths. He is so close, his body still hovering over you, and you reach up without thinking, your fingers finding the warm, smooth skin of his chest.

You trace the lines of his muscles, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your fingertips. The heat of his skin radiating through your hand, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

"I don't know if I can wait.." you admit, your eyes leaving his burning gaze to follow as your fingers dance over his skin.

Lando's eyes darken as you continue to explore his chest, your touch slow and firm. He sucks in a breath, his muscles tensing under your caress. The low, rumbling growl that escapes his throat sends a wave of heat rushing through you; the sound so primal, so raw that it makes your pulse quicken.

Encouraged by his reaction, you let your hand drift lower, your fingers tracing the defined ridges of his abs. You feel the tautness of his body; every muscle firm and responsive under your touch.

Lando's breath hitches as your hand slides even lower, brushing against the waistband of his swim shorts, where the evidence of his desire is unmistakable.

"Y/N..."

His reaction is immediate; a deep, guttural moan rumbles from his chest, his hips instinctively shifting closer to your hand as if he can't help himself.

You feel the hard length of him through the thin fabric, hot, and insistent, and the sensation sends a rush of excitement through you.

Lando's eyes flutter closed for a brief moment, his head tilting back slightly as if savoring the pleasure. His hand finds yours, guiding you as you stroke him gently through his shorts.

The contact is almost too much and not nearly enough at the same time—a teasing caress that leaves you both wanting more.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

You look up at him, and he holds your gaze as you continue your slow, deliberate movements, each touch sending a jolt of pleasure through both of you.

The intensity of his reaction, the way his body responds to every little thing you do only fuel your own desire.

But just when you thought you might lose yourself in the heat of the moment, Lando suddenly pulls away.

He gets to his feet with a quick, fluid motion, leaving you breathless and a little dazed as you watch him rise.

His eyes are dark with a mix of restraint and longing, but there is something else there too—something playful, almost wicked.

Standing above you, Lando stretches his arms high above his head, his muscles rippling beneath his tanned skin. The movement is slow, deliberate, as if he is putting on a show just for you.

And he is.

Every inch of his well-formed body is on display—the tautness of his chest, the cut of his abs, the broadness of his shoulders—all of it a testament to the hours of training and dedication he put into his sport.

You can't tear your eyes away from him, completely captivated by the sight of him stretching and flexing above you.

The sun catches the sheen of sunscreen on his skin, making him glow with a healthy, golden hue that only adds to his allure.

His swim shorts hang low on his hips, the fabric doing little to hide the evidence of his desire, now even more obvious as he stretches.

Lando grins as he catches you staring, his expression both smug and full of that boyish charm that you adore.

He holds his pose for a moment longer, letting you take in every detail, before he slowly relaxes his arms and shifts his stance.

"Enjoying the view?" he teases, his voice light but with that underlying tone of challenge, as if daring you to admit just how much you are.

You don't bother to hide the way your eyes roam over his body, taking in every flex and ripple of muscle as he adjusts his position.

He bends down slightly, the movement causing his abs to tighten, the muscles in his arms and chest bulge as he puts his weight on one leg—a casual action, but the effect is anything but.

Your breath catches in your throat as he shifts again, his body moving with the easy grace of someone completely in tune with himself. There is confidence to his movements, a quiet, self-assured strength that is incredibly sexy.

But what really holds your attention is the way his arousal is now undeniable, straining against the fabric of his shorts with no attempt to hide it.

There is no denying the effect his little display, and all the teasing before, is having on both of you. The tension crackles between you with electricity, and the air is thick with anticipation.

You feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the desire building with every second you watch him.

Lando's smirk softens into something warmer for a second as he takes a step closer to you, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. His touch is gentle, but there is an intensity in his eyes that makes your heart race.

"Maybe we should take a dip in the ocean," he suggests, his voice low and full of promise, "to cool off a bit."

There is no mistaking the double meaning behind his words, and the playful glint in his eyes only confirms it. You feel the excitement bubbling up inside you—the thrill of what is to come—making your skin tingle.

"Maybe we should," you reply, matching his tone, your voice laced with desire.

Lando grins—that same mischievous grin like before. He holds out his hand, and without hesitation, you take it, letting him pull you up to your feet.

The contact sends a spark of electricity through you, and as you stand there face-to-face, the desire between you is palpable.

As Lando stands before you, his gaze grows more intense, the playful light in his eyes darkening once again with something deeper, something more primal.

You see the shift in him—the way his muscles tense as he struggles to maintain control. The tension is thick with anticipation, simmering just below the surface, ready to boil over.

He looks at you with such desire that it sends shivery waves down your back. His eyes are filled with a need that matches your own, and there is no mistaking what he wants.

Lando's hand moves almost absently, his fingers brushing over the hard outline of his member through his shorts. The action is unintentional, but it speaks volumes, his body responding instinctively to the closeness between you.

Your gaze follows the movement of his hand, your pulse quickening as you take in the sight of him. There is something erotic about the way he touches himself so casually, as if he can't help it, as if his body is reacting to yours without conscious thought.

Lando's eyes flick back up to yours, and without a word, he offers you his hand, his expression daring you to take it.

A soft giggle escapes your lips at the playful intensity in his gaze, the way he seems so sure of himself, so confident in what is to come.

You place your hand in his, feeling the heat of his palm against you, and you can't help but tease him as you ask, "What are you planning?"

He doesn't answer right away; he just smiles that roguish, boyish grin of his that makes your heart flutter. But there is something different in his eyes now—a determination that sends a thrill of excitement racing through you.

Lando tightens his grip on your hand, his fingers wrapping around you with a firmness that is both reassuring and possessive.

With a quiet resolve, Lando leads you toward the ocean, your steps synchronized as if you were moving to the rhythm of the waves. The sand is warm beneath your feet, but you can feel the coolness of the water lapping at your ankles as you walk in.

The sun hangs low in the sky, the water shimmers with the last light of the day.

You walk deeper into the sea, the water rising up to your knees, then your thighs, until it reaches your navels. The coolness of the water is a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your bodies, the sensation sending a shiver through you as you move closer to Lando.

He turns to face you, pulling you into his arms with a gentle yet firm hug. The motion is so effortless, so natural, that you find yourself pressed against him in an instant, your body molding to his.

The water buoyed you slightly, making every touch feel lighter, more ethereal, as if you were floating together in a world of your own.

His hands settle on your hips, holding you steady against the gentle sway of the ocean. You reach up, placing both of your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms.

The contrast between his heated body and the cool water is intoxicating; the sensation heightens your awareness of every point of contact between you.

Lando's breath hitches slightly as your hands roam over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, the rise and fall of his breath. You look up at him, your eyes searching for his confirmation, for some indication that you are both on the same page.

There is no hesitation in his gaze, only a teasing, playful glint that makes your heart skip another beat.

"Do you want to do it?" You ask, your voice barely more than a whisper, the words hanging between you like a challenge.

Lando's response is immediate, his lips curving into a sly, knowing smile as he nods. There is a teasing quality to his nod, as if he is saying, Of course I do, but also, You have to ask?

His hands slide up from your hips to your waist, pulling you even closer until there is no space between you. The feel of his body pressed against you, his skin hot against the coolness of the water, sends a wave of desire crashing over you.

You feel his arousal, hard and insistent yet again, against your lower belly, and the knowledge that he wants you just as much as you want him is enough to make your knees weak.

"Then what are you waiting for?" You whisper, your voice trembling.

Lando's eyes flash with something wild as he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, "I've been waiting all day."

The words send a thrill through you; the low, husky timbre of his voice makes your pulse quicken. He isn't teasing anymore; this is real, raw desire, and it is driving you both to the edge.

Without another word, Lando's hands move lower, cupping your backside and lifting you slightly in the water. The movement is smooth, so natural, that it takes you a moment to realize what is happening.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, holding on as he shifts his stance, his body aligning perfectly with yours.

The ocean laps gently around you, the refreshing water contrasting sharply with the heat of your bodies as you move together. The water makes everything feel lighter, more fluid, combined with the solid heat of Lando's body against you.

You feel his arousal pressing against you, hard and demanding, and the sensation sends a wave of longing through you. Every nerve in your body is on fire, the anticipation builds with every passing second. You feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

Lando's breath is hot against your neck as he holds you close, his hands steadying you as you move together in the water. There is an urgency to his touch now, a need that matches your own, and you know that neither of you can wait much longer.

His hands roam over your body, his touch exploring every curve and dip of your skin as if he is memorizing you all over again. His fingers trace the lines of your back, the curve of your waist before dipping lower still, skimming over the wet fabric of your swimsuit. The sensation is exhilarating, each touch sending a jolt of pleasure through you as you lean into him, trusting him completely.

As Lando's hands become more intimate, you tilt your head back, your eyes closing as you surrender to the sensations coursing through you.

He is taking his time; his touch both tender and teasing, and it drives you wild.

Your breath hitches as his fingers find more sensitive areas; the pressure firm but gentle, exactly what you need. But you are not content to simply let him take the lead.

Your hands move over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. His skin is slick with seawater, and as you trace the hard lines of his muscles, you feel the tension in his body—the way his desire matches your own.

Your hand trails lower, down the planes of his stomach, until you reach the waistband of his swim shorts. You feel his arousal against your palm, and the sound that escapes his lips—a soft whimper—sends a thrill through you.

It is a sound you know well, one that he makes only in moments like this, when the pleasure is almost too much to bear.

Hearing Lando, usually so composed and confident, make such a vulnerable sound, sends a rush of heat through you. You smile, a surge of satisfaction coursing through you as you realize how much you are affecting him. You squeeze gently, eliciting another quiet whimper from him, and the sound makes your heart race even faster.

Lando's head dips forward, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as he lets out a shaky breath. You feel his need in the way he touches you, the way his hands tighten on your hips as if he is trying to steady himself—a heady feeling, knowing that you have this power over him, that you can make him unravel with just a touch.

Together, you move in perfect sync, your hands exploring, teasing, giving as much as you receive.

The waves roll around you, gentle and warm, adding to the rhythm you found together. It is a slow, sensual dance, the water buoying you, making every moment feel effortless, almost dreamlike.

Lando's touch grows more confident, his fingers finding the places that make you gasp, your body responding to him with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Every caress, every brush of his skin against you, only heighten the pleasure.

His mouth finds yours again; your kiss deep and urgent, and you can taste the salt of the sea on his lips.

Together, you pull his swim shorts down a few inches, and he removes your panties just as much as he needs.

When he moves inside you, it is as though the entire world stops, and all that exists is the connection between you.

You move together as one, smooth and deliberate movements, the rhythm of the waves guiding you. There is a natural ease to it, as if you are meant to be this way, entwined and inseparable.

Lando's hands grip your hips firmly, holding you steady against him as you hold on to him. His breath is hot against your neck, and every time he thrusts, it sends jolts of pure pleasure through you that weaken your knees. The sensation is overwhelming—a perfect blend of desire and connection that leaves you trembling in his arms.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your bodies pressed so tightly together that it feels as if you are one.

The feel of his muscles beneath your fingers, the way they tense and relax with every movement, only heightens the pleasure coursing through you.

Lando is focused, his gaze intense, his determination palpable as he maintains your rhythm, driving you both closer to the edge.

But then, a heavier wave surges toward you, crashing against your bodies with a force that momentarily throws you off balance. You flinch at the unexpected impact, your body instinctively reacting as your nails dig into Lando's back, leaving faint, red lines in their wake.

Lando grunts at the sharpness of your touch, a sound that is both primal and restrained, his breath hitching slightly as the pain mingles with the pleasure.

But he doesn't lose his composure—not for a single second. Instead, he tightens his grip on you, steadying you both as the wave subsides.

There is a fierce determination in the way he holds you, an unspoken promise that he isn't going to let anything—especially not a mere wave—disrupt the connection you have.

His resolve only makes the moment more intense. Even as you cling to him, feeling the strength and steadiness of his body beneath your hands, you sense the depth of his focus.

Lando isn't just in control of himself; he is in control of everything—the waves, the moment, the desire that burns between you.

And it is intoxicating.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered your name, the sound a low, breathy moan.

You feel the effort in every thrust, the way he drives you forward with a singular purpose, determined to reach the peak together.

You reach out, your hand intsinctively drawn to Lando's chest. Your fingers meet the warmth of his skin, slick with seawater, and you feel his heart pounding beneath your palm. Each rapid breath he takes makes his chest rise and fall quickly, a clear sign of the intensity of the moment.

As your hand traces the contours of his chest, you feel the way his muscles tense and tremble under your touch. The usualy steady, confident Lando is now showing a side of himself that is raw and vulnerable.

There is something incredibly intimate about the way he responds to you, how his body betrays just how much this moment affects him.

His breathing quickens as your fingers continue to explore, moving across the hard planes of his chest. The subtle tremors in his muscles tell you that he is holding back, trying to maintain control even as the intensity of all of what is happening is threatening to overwhelm him.

You look up at him, your eyes meeting his, and see the conflict of emotions there; the desire, the need, and the effort to stay composed. It's a side of Lando you rarely see and it makes you want to be closer to him, to hold him, to let him know that he doesn't need to hide anything from you.

His body leans into yours, as if seeking the reassurance of your touch.

Then, almost imperceptibly at first, a low, breathy sound escapes his lips; a soft moan that sends shivers down your spine. A sound of pure, unfiltered desire, a reaction he can't suppress despite his usual control.

The waves continue to roll around you, but they are nothing compared to the sensations building within you. Every movement, every touch, every breath brings you closer, the pleasure intensifying with each passing second.

Your body moves in perfect harmony with his, responding to every subtle shift, every whispered encouragement until there is nothing left but the sheer intensity of the moment.

And when the final wave of pleasure crashes over you, it is overwhelming—the perfect culmination of all the tension, desire, and connection that was built between you throughout the day.

Lando holds you close, his arms wrapping around you as you both tremble in the aftermath, your breaths mingling as you cling to each other in the gentle sway of the ocean.

As the waves lap gently around you, you stay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world slowly coming back into focus.

The sun dips lower in the sky, the water shimmering gold, but all you can see is Lando, his eyes soft and filled with the kind of warmth that makes your heart swell.

He brushes a strand of wet hair away from your face, his touch tender and loving, a contrast to the intensity of what you just shared.

And as he looks at you with that boyish smile, you know that this moment is something you will carry with you forever.

The sun dips even lower on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold, pink, and deepening purple. Lando and you make your way back to the beach, hand in hand. The waves, now calmer and gentler, whispering against the shore, and the warmth of the day lingering in the air, wrapping around you like a soft blanket.

With every step, you feel the connection between you—the shared intimacy.

You are silent, but it is a comfortable silence, filled with the weight of everything you don't need to say.

Lando's hand is warm in yours, his grip gentle but firm, as if he never wants to let go, and you feel the same.

As you reach your spot on the beach, the towels still laid out where you left them, you can't help but notice the faint, red scratches on Lando's back—the marks you made in the heat of the moment. Your heart gives a little pang of guilt, knowing that you hurt him, even if it was unintentional.

"I'm sorry about those," you say softly, your voice tinged with concern as you gesture to the scratches. The last thing you want is to have caused him any pain.

Lando just turns to you, his eyes sparkling with amusement, and lets out a light, carefree giggle that makes your worry evaporate in an instant.

"Are you kidding?" he teases, flashing that boyish grin again. "It was worth it."

His words, spoken with such ease and sincerity, make you smile in return. There is no regret in his eyes, only a mischievous glint that tells you he wouldn't change a thing. It is just like him to find humor in something so small, to brush it off with a laugh and a cheeky comment.

You settle back onto your towels, the sun now a mere sliver on the horizon, casting long shadows across the sand.

Lando lies down on his stomach; his body relaxes, the tension from earlier completely melted away. You take place beside him, sitting down with one leg folded under you, the other stretched out along the soft sand.

You reach out, your fingers tracing the lines of his back, following the path of the scratches with a gentle, soothing touch. The scratches aren't deep, just light marks that will fade soon enough, but you want to show him how much you care, how sorry you are for causing him even a moment's discomfort.

Lando hums in contentment, a deep, rumbling sound that reverberates in his chest. His body shifts slightly under your touch, the muscles in his back rippling with each pass of your hand—a simple, quiet moment, but it feels profound.

As you continue to stroke his back, you feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the steady rise and fall of his breath. It is a comforting rhythm, one that lulls you into a sense of calm and peace.

Lando's contentment is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing even more, your worries slipping away with each gentle caress.

After a while, Lando shifts onto his side, turning to face you with a soft smile. His eyes are filled with affection, and he reaches out, inviting you to come closer with a gentle tug on your arm.

You don't hesitate, moving into his embrace, your body fitting perfectly against his as you settle beside him.

You cuddle together on the towel, the warmth of his body enveloping you as you rest your head against his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat is like a soothing lullaby, and you close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfort of his presence.

Lando's arm drapes around you, holding you close, while his other hand continues to stroke your arm and back in a slow, rhytmic motion. The sensation is blissful; the soft touch of his fingers against your skin sends little shivers down your spine.

As you nestle closer into Lando's embrace, the first thing that strikes you is his scent—a warm, intoxicating mix of the ocean, sun, and something unquiely him. A perfect blend of freshness from the sea breeze mingled with the faint, lingering notes of his cologne.

There is something comforting about it—a scent that speaks of warmth, safety, and home. You breathe him in deeply, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you lie against his chest.

His skin, still slightly salty from the ocean, carries the faintest hint of sunscreen, adding to the mix. But beneath all that is the unmistakable scent that is just Lando—a subtle, masculine fragrance that is warm and inviting, grounding you again in the moment.

Every time you take a breath, you feel closer to him, as if his scent is weaving itself into your very being. It is a scent that you know you would recognize anywhere, one that you would miss deeply whenever you were apart.

You sigh contentedly, snuggling deeper into his warmth, letting his scent and gentle touches envelop you fully.

Lando's fingers never stop moving, tracing patterns on your skin; his touch light and tender. Every so often, he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair.

Then, in the quiet of the moment, Lando's voice breaks through the stillness, soft and filled with emotion.

"I love you," he whispers.

You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes meeting his. His gaze is intense, so raw and deep that it takes your breath away. There is no teasing smirk, no hint of the playful boyishness he often wears. This is Lando, stripped bare of any pretense, speaking from the very depths of his heart.

"And thank you..." he continues, "for taking care of me." His voice barely above a whisper, but the words resonate with a gravity that makes them feel like a vow. "More than anything. I need you."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you take in the weight of his words. It isn't just about the passion or the connection you share; it is about something more profound, something that goes beyond just love.

You reach up to gently cup his face, your thumb brushing along his cheek as you try to convey everything you feel in that moment without words.

"I love you too, Lando," you whisper back, your voice thick with emotion. "And I will always care for you and need you just as much."

A soft, almost relieved smile spreads across his lips, and he leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if he wants to hold on to this moment forever.

When he pulls back, his eyes are shining with the same emotion you feel—love, need, and an unbreakable bond that ties you together.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 smut

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muzammels-blog · 2 years ago

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chrollogy · 6 months ago

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SUNSET DREAMS ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

kageyama tobio x afab!reader

╰┈➤ part of house of solis occasum’s summer fic exchange for @mcdonaldsnumberone !

synopsis: The tall, raven-haired surf instructor catches your attention during a private surfing lesson with your friends but due to circumstances, there was no space for small talk. Later that afternoon, you cross paths once again at a beach club—a sign from the universe to grab the opportunity, and get to know him better. This quickly leads to a turn of events where you both end up naked in bed, and eager to explore each other’s bodies but there’s just one thing though, he’s a virgin.

content warning: beach au, surf instructor!/surfer!kageyama, poor depiction of surfing, bartender!hinata cameo, alcohol use, awkward flirting, i am making kags PATHETIC, summer fling/beach romance, nsfw, smut (mdni), virgin!kageyama, bottom!kageyama, top!reader, virginity loss (m), porn without plot, handjob, cum eating, unprotected s*x, creampie, multiple orgasms (m), not beta read.

word count: 6.3k

notes: eeeeep it’s my first time writing for mr tobio but i absolutely had fun !! i hope you enjoy mac :3 divider: cafekitsune.

The scorching sun amongst the cerulean skies kissed your warm skin, the scent of salt, and sea lingered in the air as a summer breeze blew by; sounds of heavy waves from the crystalline water, and distant chatters from avid beach goers filled your senses. It was hot, and humid with no ivory clouds in sight—the perfect formula for a quick summer getaway. The beach buzzed with liveliness; colourful hues of towels, and essentials laid upon the white sand, kids with plastic buckets, and shovels eagerly building sand castles, surfers chasing the endless azure waves beneath the blazing sun.

Just the sight of swells had your heart thumping with adrenaline rush, a vivid imagery of yourself attempting to ride the waves formulated in your mind. You’ve never tried surfing before but today was the perfect time to do so—a completely out of the blue suggestion by one of your friends, not that you were complaining. It was always nice to try new things, anyway.

“How do I look? Did I put on too much sunscreen?”

A saccharine voice to your left reeled you back to reality; looking over at the owner of the voice, an emerald gaze stared right back, her eyes sparkling beneath the searing rays of the sun. Scanning your friend’s face for any white cast from the sunscreen, you shook your head, and smiled, “You look fine, Alisa.” Taking your word for it, she mirrored your smile before placing her sunnies over her eyes. You, and three friends were clad in a rental jet black skin tight wetsuit provided by the surf school, preparing for today’s private beginner lesson.

You weren’t going to lie, the thought of braving the waves made your heart pound from nervousness, and excitement but seeing as you were going to experience this foreign activity with your friends—who also haven’t tried it before—it put you at ease; you just hoped the instructor was could somewhat save you if you happen to fall off the surfboard, and onto the warm waters beneath.

Speaking of the instructor, Hitoka spoke up, a subtle devious smile on her face as she worked her hands on her flaxen strands, deftly tying it up in a low ponytail, “I bet our instructor is hot.” This earned silent chuckles from the rest of you, shaking your heads at the blonde who just shrugged in response. “Laugh at me all you want now but if I’m right, you owe me a free drink at the beach club later.”

Playfully rolling your eyes at her newfound determination, you waved a dismissive hand at your friend, mirroring her smile,

“Sure, whatever helps you—”

“I’m so sorry for the wait, everyone! I’ll be your surfing instructor for today.” A dulcet voice cut your sentence short, it belonged to a tall man clad in a wetsuit—he looked to be around your age. Blinking twice up at him, your eyes raked his physique up, and down before taking in his handsome beauty—cropped raven hair that framed his face, and the sharp gaze of his dark blue eyes were the cherry on top; a blend of an innocent yet sultry appeal. He emanated a subtle intimidating aura, especially paired with his looming height but his voice was as soft as the first rays of the early morning, something you could get used to hearing everyday.

You were already considering buying Hitoka that free drink because god was he fucking hot—the skin tight surf suit did not leave much to one’s imagination with the way it hugged his lean build; dips, and curves of his muscles accentuated by the waterproof fabric. It was beyond shameless to ogle your instructor because you’ve completely missed his name, instead, your eyes were focused on the way his muscular legs shifted as he leaned his weight from one bare foot to another.

Next thing you knew, his sharp gaze was on you, an expectant look on his handsome face. Snapping out of your trance, you hesitantly looked to the side—at your friends—clearly unaware of what was going on, ‘Your name. He’s asking for your name.’ Kiyoko mouthed. Letting out a sound of realisation, you smiled up at the instructor, and introduced yourself, ignoring the sudden warmth that crept up the column of your neck, and to your cheeks.

After brief introductions were out of the way, the five of you headed down to the beach—surfboards securely tucked beneath an arm—to start off today’s lesson. Hitoka fell into a step next to you, hissing at the white scorching sand beneath her bare feet, angling your face over to her, you spoke up, “Hey, what was our instructor’s name again? I didn’t catch it earlier.” She looked at you, that devious smile back in its place, brows furrowed, free hand shielding her sweaty face from the blinding sun, “Why? Too busy ogling his hotness?”

Yes. But you weren’t going to tell her that—god, no, she’d never live it down because she was right.

You mustered your best uninterested expression, however, the corners of your lips were itching to curl upwards at her blatant teasing, clearly hitting the nail on the head. Hitoka briefly returned the same deadpan expression, narrowing her chestnut eyes at you before letting out a sigh of defeat, “Kageyama Tobio. Full name, even.” She snickered before going on to complain about the hot sand, and the equally hot summer weather.

“Kageyama Tobio.” You muttered underneath your breath, satisfied at how it easily rolled off your tongue—little did you know, you were going to be moaning it out like a shameless common whore hours later, as though it was made for your tongue only.

As the group neared the deserted azure waters, the scent of salt grew stronger; the sound of small waves crashing on the shoreline filled your ears as you came to a halt just a few ways from the water. Kageyama started the lesson by skilfully explaining the safety guidelines, surfing etiquette, and basic techniques; you tried your best to listen in on the briefing since this was a crucial part of the lesson but his dulcet voice slowly faded along with distant noises from the background as you stared up at his face.

Your eyes gently traced over every dip, and curve of Kageyama’s features, lips parted in slight awe, completely lost in his serene beauty as the late morning sun casted a warm glow upon his skin. This has never happened before—sure, you’ve stumbled upon other jaw-dropping faces in the past that had your heart skipping a beat or two but this was different, you were shamelessly drawn to him; as though you were a moon affected by gravitational attraction, falling into an orbit around a planet named Kageyama Tobio. Though, you mostly chalked up your absentmindedness to nerves taking root deep beneath your skin, as each minute grew closer to hitting the swells of the vast ocean.

After getting thoroughly briefed through safety measures, and basic techniques—such as paddling, popping up, and maintaining balance—the next part of the lesson was getting into the water. Despite your heart pounding with nervousness, paddling wasn’t too bad, the coolness of the wavy waters calmed your nerves a tad bit—a daring contrast from the scorching sun directly above your head.

Fortunately for you, Kageyama was amazing at his job—even though the group practised on shallow waters with small waves, getting the hang of popping up, and maintaining balance on the board was tricky, and he was there to ensure an easy experience for you. The feeling of Kageyama’s firm grip around the back of your thigh had your heart hammering as he supported your weight, gently guiding you to stand up on the board,

“Good! You’re a natural. Remember to keep your knees bent—that’s it.” His praise went straight to your legs, knees slightly buckling; it absolutely caught you off guard, almost losing balance but luckily, you didn’t let up, and tried your best to navigate through the small wave.

The lesson carried on for another hour—it went smoothly despite unceremoniously falling into the water a couple of times with your friends but this earned you several words of encouragement from your instructor which definitely did not have you pressing your legs together; god, you just hoped Kageyama didn’t notice with the amount of times you’ve done it throughout the span of the lesson—you’d rather willingly drink the salty sea water instead.

It was already late afternoon, and the summer sun was beginning to set; blue skies turned into hues of cotton candy pink, and pastel orange which casted a vibrant warm glow over the beach, as though it was a scene from a movie. The group leisurely walked along the stretch of the beach, heading for the beach club mentioned earlier. The three indulged themselves in a mellow conversation, raving about their newfound surfing skills, your mind, on the other hand, wandered elsewhere.

Gaze locked on the warm sand beneath as moments from the lesson vividly replayed in your head; you could still feel the warmth of Kageyama’s palm against your clothed skin, the way his fingers ever so slightly dug into your body whenever you wobbled a little.

As if the universe somewhat knew the truth of your mind, Hitoka exclaimed, “Hey! Isn’t that our instructor from earlier?” At the mention of him, your head shot up, eyes following the direction of her pointed finger; as your gaze shifted all the way to the sparkling waters, you recognized Kageyama’s familiar physique.

There he was in his own world, propped up on his surfboard, deftly riding the afternoon waves. As expected from a pro surfer, Kageyama’s body moved with such accuracy, and intricateness as though he was the one controlling the water—clad only in black board shorts, he looked absolutely divine beneath the sunset skies, the golden glow of the sun bouncing off his bare torso.

“He was a little too intense for me, if I’m being honest.” Alisa momentarily stared at him before shifting her gaze. “Really? He seemed fine to me. Just a little stiff.” Kiyoko responded, brows subtly furrowed as though she was in deep thought; this earned a hum of agreement from Hitoka before rambling on about how intense Kageyama’s gaze was.

Hm, you must be the odd one out because in your eyes, his personality was warm, albeit, a little awkward, and blunt but despite that, it was manageable—hell, you even enjoyed his praises no matter how flat or awkward his tone was.

The conversation carried over to the beach club located along a tranquil coastline; greeted with a mix of elegance, and topical accents, you scanned the place in awe—wooden cabanas draped with ivory curtains, and outdoor sunbeds lined the white sands which overlooked the still, azure waters. Apart from the ocean itself, the pool was also an option to swim in, offering a mini bar that you had your eyes set on.

Kiyoko, and Alisa decided to explore other amenities of the club whereas Hitoka opted to lounge at a sunbed, wanting to catch a glimpse of the sun setting behind the horizon, and as for you, your feet were already taking you to the mini bar situated by the pool. After that lengthy, exhausting lesson, all you needed right now was a little alcohol to wash down thoughts about a certain surfer that plagued your mind.

Tropical beats spilled from the speakers, creating a lively atmosphere for its patrons to enjoy; luckily, the poolside wasn’t too congested, and you were able to secure a vacant stool. Opting for the farthest corner in the outdoor bar, your eyes thoroughly scanned the miniature, azure pamphlet on the counter which contained a curated list of cocktails, and other beverages to indulge oneself in.

“If you’re having trouble choosing a drink, I highly suggest our signature cocktail ‘Sunset Dreams’! I can turn it into a mocktail if you’re not interested in alcohol.”

Looking up from the menu, and at the owner of the buoyant voice from behind the counter, you were greeted with a radiant smile that reached his eyes as though he was the epitome of sunshine; his spiky, orange hair that mirrored hues of the sky were not easy to miss, standing out against the neutral colours of his clothes—a beige linen button up shirt that had a few buttons loose, paired with ivory shorts.

The man held a metallic cocktail shaker, vigorously shaking it above his shoulder with both hands a few times before pouring its contents into a chilled highball glass, and sliding it over to a customer just a few seats down.

“So! What would it be for you?” He tapped the counter, returning in front of you before slightly leaning forward; he had an expectant look in his doe, chestnut brown eyes—a look which one, including yourself, couldn’t help but adore. You caught a glimpse of a small, golden nametag glimmering against the beige of his shirt—bold, ivory letters read ‘SHOYO’.

You contemplated his suggestion for a moment, “Okay. I think I’ll try the signature cocktail.” This earned a gleeful expression from the bartender, eagerly nodding at your choice of drink, “Good, good! You’re gonna love it! I’m Shoyo, your bartender for the night. If you need anything, just call out my name, and I’ll be there!” He pointed a finger at his name tag before working on the signature cocktail.

Smiling to yourself, you felt at ease being serviced by such a lively individual; Shoyo cheerfully greeted, and bid customers goodbye every now, and then—you subtly watched him do his job though he was part of a live entertainment.

A few minutes later, Shoyo sets a pretty, gradient cocktail before you, “One Sunset Dreams for you. Enjoy! Call me over if there’s anything you need!” Giving the bartender a warm thanks, you admired the beverage, it imitated colours of the sunset—a vibrant hue of red sitting on the base which gradually faded into a light cotton candy pink topped with two cherries on a swizzle stick, and a straw.

You didn’t hesitate to pull your phone out, and quickly snap a few photos to send to the group chat, instantly earning a thread of replies from Hitoka gushing about how amazing it looked. Before you could properly take a sip of your cocktail, Shoyo’s radiant voice filled your ears as he greeted an oncoming customer,

“Heeey, Kageyama! I haven’t seen you all week!”

At the mention of the surfer’s name, your ears unabashedly perk up. Sure, there were probably thousands—if not hundreds—of other Kageyamas out there but you only knew one person with that name, and he happened to be standing just two seats away from where you sat. His raven strands were damp, glistening beneath the golden sunset rays; he donned a plain white tee, and blue boardshorts which had no business making your heart pound like crazy.

The chances of meeting Kageyama here weren’t exactly slim given his job but you didn’t entirely expect to meet him here, let alone make friends with the beach club’s lively bartender—you didn’t make him out to be a person to regularly attend places like this.

As if he sensed your curious gaze, Kageyama looked to the side, navy blue eyes meeting your own. You waved—you fucking waved at him like he was an old friend who was here to meet with you; embarrassment gnawed at your skin, warmth creeping up from the sides neck of your neck, and onto your cheeks, resembling small, sharp kisses.

To your surprise, Kageyama dipped his chin in return before sauntering over to the vacant seat beside yours. “You two know each other?” Shoyo mused, brown eyes shifting between you, and Kageyama. The latter bluntly shook his head before pointing a thumb at you, “Had them for a beginner’s class earlier today.” You nodded at Kageyama’s reply.

“Also, just the usual mocktail for me.” The taller male added, taking a seat next to you, completely catching you off guard—you didn’t expect him to actually sit next to you but hey, maybe this was the universe’s sign to get to know the man better; how? You were about to find out for yourself. Shoyo returned a bright response, saluting at his friend before getting to work.

Despite the lively atmosphere of the poolside with distant chatters, and soft beats playing on the speakers, the air between you, and Kageyama turned awkward pretty quickly. Talk to him. Talk to him. Talk to him, your mind screamed but all you could do at the moment was take a long sip of your cocktail—maybe getting a bit of liquid courage would help you in this dire situation, after all, as they said, a little goes a long way.

Awkwardly clearing your throat, you spoke up, “So . . What made you interested in surfing?” Good. This was a good conversation starter; you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for quickly coming up with a question before the atmosphere got too silent, and uncomfortable to talk in. Kageyama met your eyes, cool gaze bringing an icy shiver down your spine; his dulcet voice engulfed your ears as he explained about his love for the sport.

Surprisingly, he had a whole lot to say about surfing—not that you were complaining, you listened to every word that slipped past his lips. You keenly watched how his relaxed expression gradually turned into something more passionate the more he talked about his job—eyes gleaming with pure enthusiasm, and the corners of his lips subtly curling upwards, it was adorable.

“Sorry. Did I bore you? I kind of went on a tangent there.” Kageyama sheepishly scratched his nape. “No, not at all! It was interesting to hear about it, really . . I think you’re really cute.”

Oh god.

Oh my fucking god. That wasn’t supposed to slip out.

Now would be a really good time for the ground to swallow you whole. Though, the only thing swallowing you whole was embarrassment, and to make matters worse, Kageyama wordlessly blinked at you with the most blank expression known to man—you were unsure whether it didn’t phase him at all or he just decided to ignore your blatant flirting altogether. Whatever the reason was, you were better off not knowing.

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as soon as the sentence slipped out. Though, in Kageyama’s defence, he didn’t know whether you were flirting with him or plainly just complimenting him—sure, he also found you cute but would it be weird if he said it back, and you just meant yours as a compliment, nothing more?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Kageyama was overthinking this whole conversation a little too much, he needed to give a response before it becomes unbearably awkward—

“Oh—um, thanks . . I think you’re cute too.” He practically mumbled the last part of his sentence but whatever, he wasn’t going to repeat it again, not when his cheeks turned awfully warm, and his heart skipped a beat or two. Kageyama tried his best to break eye contact but god he just couldn’t; he found your eyes beautiful, the way they shone beneath the warm glow of the sunset.

Maybe you were just being extremely delusional but did you hear Kageyama’s words correctly? He thinks you’re cute as well? Nonetheless, it gave you a boost of confidence, an invitation to shoot your shot, and see wherever it takes you. The raven-haired man subtly squirmed in his seat, deep blue eyes boring into your own; a small blanket of pink coating his cheeks

Was it just him or it felt really, really hot today? Even though the sun had dipped into the horizon, Kageyama felt like he was right beneath its scorching rays—all of a sudden his body felt uncomfortably hot, he felt sharp prickles kissing down his neck, and onto his chest. Kageyama had never felt this hot, and bothered under someone’s presence before—not to mention the growing sensation deep in his core. He felt pathetic, really, being all turned on from just a little flirting; if your words affected him this much, Kageyama wondered how he’d act underneath your touch.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Not the appropriate thought to think about right now.

He mentally cursed his mind for wandering to such impure thoughts rather too quickly because clearly it did nothing but further fuel the shameful feeling growing inside him—carnal desire. Oh, this was absolutely embarrassing on his end, it hasn’t even been at least ten minutes in your presence, and yet he’s getting needier by the minute.

Earlier, Kageyama was lucky enough that he was engrossed in the lesson, and therefore wasn’t too distracted by your presence—all he got was a pounding heart whenever he held your clothed body but that was just about it. Plus, Kageyama wasn’t one to muck around during his job since the safety of the class depended on him, he couldn’t afford some petty distraction, even if it meant pushing down his innocent feelings.

Though, Kageyama wondered if the feelings he had right now could be even called innocent.

As the raven-haired male squirmed in his seat once again, you caught a glimpse of the growing hardness between his thighs, the thin fabric of his shorts did so little to hide the tent at the apex of his legs—you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit to squeezing your legs at the sight.

It was barely above a whisper but Kageyama heard it just fine, a faint ‘I can help you with that.’

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but truthfully, you haven’t even finished your glass of cocktail, and it wasn’t even enough to get you tipsy—the next thing you knew, your thoughts swiftly flew out of your mouth before being able to stop yourself.

He gulped, nails digging into his palms at the erotic sight he just envisioned in his mind. Oh, god. Was this really happening right now? Did you just offer to help him with his growing erection? Kageyama’s throat felt dry. Where the fuck was Hinata with the drink he ordered? Why was he taking so long to make it? The whole situation felt surreal—a wet dream—too good to be true; he felt dizzy, and it didn’t stop there when he responded equally quietly.

If Kageyama was being honest, he didn’t hear his own words over the buzzing of his ear, and the thumping of his heart—all he knew was that it must’ve been a damn good response with your eyes widening, and lips curling up into a seductive smile, one that had his cock throbbing beneath his shorts.

It was all a daze from there, the rush of pure desire coursing through his veins, the spinning of his head; Kageyama vaguely remembered Hinata calling out to the both of you, assuming his mocktail was ready for him but he didn’t bat an eye, a mere beverage would simply do nothing to satiate the thirst he harboured—Kageyama needed you, only you could quench this growing ache between his legs.

Kageyama’s feet felt light against the pavement beneath, his flip flops scraping against it with every uncomfortable step taken. Hues of the fading sunset engulfed his mind, pretty pinks, and oranges slowly turned deep blue as you walked back to your accommodation—it was only a five-minute walk but god it felt like an eternity.

Your lips were on his as soon as the door to your room slammed shut, you swore the walls shook from impact but whatever, it was none of your concern. Kageyama’s lean arms caged you as your back hit the soft mattress beneath, fingers digging into the sheets at the dizzying kiss; no one has kissed him with this much drive, and passion before, the way your soft lips eagerly moved against his own, guiding him with each searing kiss.

Soft moans, and grunts slipped from Kageyama’s throat in between kisses, the sheer intensity from it was enough to make him cum untouched right then, and there; he could practically feel his body vibrating with lust—fuck, he couldn’t even think properly with the way your hands caressed his body up, and down, up, and down before sliding them under his ivory shirt, and gently clawing at his bare skin.

Heaven. Absolute heaven.

Kageyama moaned into your mouth at the feeling of your nails scraping his sensitive skin, trails of goosebumps forming beneath your sinful touch. And as he opened his eyes to meet your gaze, tears quickly pooled around them—from what? Kageyama didn’t know. Maybe it was from sexual frustration, maybe it was from the heavenly feeling of your nails, or maybe it was how each blissful emotion hit him like a truck, and took the air out of his lungs.

Momentarily pulling away from the kiss, Kageyama breathed out a string of incoherent words, a look of uncertainty crossing his crimson-painted face. “What—what was that?” You let out soft pants, dropping your head on the pillow beneath as you cupped his warm cheeks,

“I’m—I haven’t done this before . . I’m a virgin.”

You blinked up at him.

There was a slight pause—a heartbeat—as Kageyama’s confession lingered in the thick, warm air of the room; sweat already lined his forehead, raven strands sticking to his skin. “I’m sorry—Are you turned off?” He quickly peeled himself from your body, a rush of faint coolness momentarily engulfing you from his lack of presence. Kageyama sat on his knees, a bashful look painted on his face.

Quickly sitting up to cup his face, you shook your head, “No, no! Not at all . . Did you want us to stop? I don’t mind at all.” Now, it was Kageyama’s turn to vigorously shake his head, “No. I—I want to do it with you.” He breathed out, eyes glazed with pure lust.

You clenched your cunt at his words—just the thought of taking someone’s virginity, let alone Kageyama’s it felt like a whole lot of expectation had been placed on your shoulders but you weren’t backing down now, not at all, you were going to give him the most earth-shattering first time with how much trust he gave you.

“Take off your clothes, and lie on the bed.” As though time was of the essence, Kageyama hastily stripped his top off, shamelessly flinging it somewhere in the room. Your eyes keenly watched as his thumbs dipped beneath the waistband of his raven shorts, slowly dragging it down the length of his long legs ‘til it pooled around his ankles.

Kageyama wordlessly looked up at you, the fabric of his underwear still on him, cock painfully straining against it with a noticeable wet spot. “All of your clothes.” You added. The male’s cheeks warmed before shyly slipping it off, hard cock bouncing against the tufts of raven hair on his stomach, it shamelessly leaked of pre-cum, beads of pearlescent liquid sat prettily on his red tip.

“Good. Now, on the bed.” An icy shiver ran up his spine at the purr of your voice, velvety, and low as you pat the empty space next to you. As Kageyama situated himself on the bed, his bare back flush against the wooden headboard, he watched as you stood at the foot of the bed, hands slowly coming up to strip yourself.

What a tease.

Kageyama watched with eager eyes as each article of clothing slipped off your skin, Adam’s apple bobbing with each noticeable gulp—fuck, you looked divine; his hands ached to pleasure himself, fuck his cock on his fist as he watched you deftly unclasp your bra. Cursing beneath his breath, his gaze traced over your naked chest, eyes circling over your pert nipples, and down the valley of it. He was practically drooling at this point, rosy lips parted in complete awe at your raw beauty.

Oh, how he wanted to touch you so bad, roam his large hands all over your body, and squeeze, and rub at parts he’s never held before. Kageyama’s mind went absolutely wild, he wondered what your moans would sound like under his touch; would you enjoy his fingers on your sensitive clit? Moan his name out into oblivion? Cum on his hand?

You crawled up the mattress, situating yourself between his parted legs, just before his hard cock. Kageyama waited for your next move with a bated breath, toned chest heaving up, and down with anticipation, his hands gripping the ivory sheets beneath.

Deep, blue eyes widened as you curled over yourself, coming face to face with his dick; oh, you just knew that length would absolutely do wonders inside you. Kageyama bit his lip, stiffening underneath your touch as you circled a hand around his cock, languidly dragging it up to his tip to spread pre-cum down his shaft. Kageyama melted like putty at the first stroke, his head unceremoniously resting on the wall behind as pleasure consumed his body at the speed of lightning— he could already feel the building pressure in the pit of his stomach.

“Ah!—Fuck. T-that feels so, so good.” Kageyama moaned to the ceiling, his voice was airy, and light, a clear sign of pure bliss completely taking over his sanity. He’s never been touched by anyone before so this was a foreign experience for him; it felt different from when he pleasured himself with his own hands—your touch drove Kageyama to madness, and he was absolutely addicted to it.

Satisfied with his reaction, you picked up the pace, and brought another hand down to gently massage his balls which earned a loud whine of your name. Oh, fuck. Kageyama was floating on cloud nine, and this was only pleasure from your hands, what more if it was your wet cunt? Would he even last sheathed deep in your velvety walls? He doubted it.

As the pace picked up, Kageyama’s moans also grew in volume, his stomach clenched, and unclenched at the sheer pleasure that consumed his whole body, all because of your hands. “Fuck! Fuck! Fu—I’m cumming!” The raven-haired male let out a wanton moan, eyes closed shut, knuckles white, and muscles taut as the knot inside his stomach finally snapped. Pure bliss rocked through Kageyama’s body like never before, as though he was engulfed in a million pleasurable kisses.

White, hot ribbons of cum shamelessly spurted from his cock which coated your fingers, and wrist. Kageyama slumped against the headboard, all fucked out, and covered by a light sheen of sweat; his lips were parted as he desperately chased oxygen,

“Want you—I need you. Please . .” Kageyama panted, his lustful gaze locked onto your own; even though he just orgasmed, his cock was still rock hard. How needy. His breath hitched at the lewd sight before him as you languidly licked a long stripe up your wrist, gathering his cum on the tip of your tongue, and eagerly swallowing his essence down. It was like Kageyama’s brain short circuited—he’s only ever seen this sight on his laptop screen during sleepless nights, never did he think he’d see his own cum licked, and swallowed from one’s hand.

Was it possible to faint from such a sinful sight?

Sitting up, you inched closer to Kageyama’s lap, thighs on either side of his slim waist, and clothed cunt hovering his cockhead. With keen eyes, the raven-haired watched as you deftly pushed your panties aside, catching a glimpse of your glistening cunt. He licked his lips as though he was a predator silently stalking his prey, waiting to pounce. Kageyama wondered what you’d taste like on his tongue, your sweet slick smeared all over his mouth, and chin—he could only fantasise.

The violent thrumming of his heart filled his ears as he watched you shift your weight over his lap; this was really happening—Kageyama was about to lose his virginity. He felt a rush of every single emotion from A to Z, all things good but mixed with a bit of nervousness; what if he couldn’t satisfy you enough? What if he accidentally cummed way too soon? What if—

“Ohhhhh—fuck! Ngh—ah!” Kageyama violently threw his head back against the wall, fists gripping the sheets below as you slowly inched down his red tip. Oh god. Oh god. You hugged him so, so tightly, your cunt felt hot, and wet around him but in a good kind of way; he let out short breaths, his chest quickly heaving up, and down as he tried his best to ground himself. It was like his sanity snapped in a split second as soon as you made raw contact with his dick—this feeling was beyond cloud nine, as though he was one with the cosmos.

You bit your lip at his pornographic sounds, letting out low whimpers as Kageyama’s cock desperately twitched inside you. With your hands gripping his bare shoulders, you slowly inched down his cock, grounding yourself as the head kissed intimate parts of you that no one has ever reached. A unison of heavy pants filled the thick air after bottoming out; you momentarily stilled, giving yourself ample time to get used to Kageyama’s length because fuck it drove you absolutely insane.

“P-please move. Need more, please . .” He whined, desperately moving his hips beneath your weight, causing his tip to momentarily brush against your g-spot ever so slightly. Moaning at the contact, a string of colourful curses slipped past your lips, toes curling at the sudden wave of pleasure.

Without wasting any more time, you lifted your hips all the way up to his tip before slamming back down, earning muttered curses of your name from Kageyama. His hands immediately flew to your hips as a way to ground himself, as though holding onto anything else would immediately deprive him of this heavenly bliss.

Soft, wet squelches bounced off the walls with every languid roll of your hips, Kageyama couldn’t peel his eyes away from where to two of you connected—it was wet, and slippery, glistening from all your arousal; everything felt so sinful that it made his head spin, not the mention the bounce of your breasts with each movement of your hips. Every moan that slipped past your lips went straight to Kageyama’s cock, he was the one making you moan this loud, not to mention the look on your face—hooded eyes, and lips parted to chant his name every now, and then; pride blossomed in his chest.

Shared pleasure ate away at your bodies like a rabid animal, gnawing at your skin with nothing to stop it ‘til it reached your bones—it was immense, a toe-curling sensation with every relentless bounce of your hips; the way Kageyama’s cock repeatedly kissed your g-spot, the way your velvety walls sinfully wrapped around him like it was meant to be. Your thighs burned with exhaustion, a mix of pain, and pleasure completely taking over your body but you didn’t stop—you didn’t want to, not when Kageyama felt this amazing inside you.

You could tell the raven-haired was getting more, and more greedy for pleasure from how his nails painfully dug into your sweaty skin, the subtle upward thrust of his hips to meet your own, taking him even deeper into your wet heat. Heavy balls slapping onto your ass fuelled your desire further, the slight burn of it had you clenching around him.

“Ah!—Kageyama! Ohhhh fuck! You’re so deep . .” He closed his eyes at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue, voice as sweet as honey. Kageyama wondered if he could be a little more greedy, “Tobio—ngh! Call me Tobio.” He panted. It took all of his sanity to string the short sentence together, Kageyama couldn’t even hear himself over the loud skin slapping mixed with your endless whines.

Vigorously nodding, you moaned his name, “Tobio! Mhm—You gonna cum for me? Yeah?” It was Kageyama’s turn to nod at your gasped words, eyes momentarily screwing shut at its effect on him.

He wasn’t going to last any longer after just cumming his brains out from your hands a few minutes ago. “Oh, god!—Can I cum inside you? Please? Fuck, I want to stuff you full of my cum—ngh!” Words spilled from Kageyama’s mouth, blabbering out any coherent thought that came to mind. Truthfully, he’s always fantasised cumming inside someone, the feeling of emptying his balls, and shooting his thick load while sheathed deep inside was probably his biggest dirty secret—and he just shamelessly bared it to you.

“Yes—ah! Stuff me full of your cum, Tobio! Want your cum deep inside me, please.”

The desperation in your voice was all it took for Kageyama to snap, his fingers clawed at your hips as he painted your walls white, body stiffening under the immense pressure of pleasure. It didn’t help how your cunt gripped him like a vice, pulling him further, and further down the rabbit hole called bliss. You came with a loud moan of his name, curling over yourself, sweaty forehead resting on Kageyama’s bare chest as you desperately rode out your orgasms.

Both of you stayed still for a moment to catch your breaths, the sticky, uncomfortable feeling of warmth slowly engulfed your bodies as the high wore off. Kageyama didn’t even do much but he was absolutely spent, and drenched in sweat, he could only imagine your state, especially your thighs from all that bouncing.

“A-are you okay? That was—that was amazing . .” Dulcet voice sliced through the thick air, it earned a chuckle from you, you could only return a weak nod at his concern, your body too heavy to even move an inch. Kageyama’s soft breathing slowly pulled your to the borders of sleep but the summer heat against your skin was unbearable,

You mustered every strength to peel yourself off of him, “Shower with me?” Your lips wickedly curled upwards, hands gently caressing Kageyama’s bare chest. What a temptress.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel tired anymore. —

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

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cupofwyn · 6 months ago

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beach shenanigans w/ bf!dream⠀( a series )

▬⠀content יִ،⠀mark. renjun. jeno. haechan. jaemin. chenle. jisung.

pairing/s יִ،⠀bf!mark lee × gn!reader

genre/s יִ،⠀fluff.⠀established relationship.

warning/s יִ،⠀pure fluff.⠀bulletpoints.⠀lowercaps.

wc יִ،⠀0.72k⠀

a/n יִ،⠀i've had this prompt for a few weeks already, and im proud to say im making it a series! i hope you'll enjoy the series first starting off with mark ^^

prompt יִ،⠀"having a bf is like having a misbehaved child." and you think about it a lot when you see bf!mark running towards the white sand with his shovel and bucket in hand.

as a child, mark only experienced the coldness of winter

the city that he lived in, the country, canada, boasts a cold temperature every winter season

and when he had the chance to experience summer in his country, his summer break usually consisted of him going back to seoul with his parents

a city full of skyscrapers—opposite to what he wanted to see in his summers

everywhere he looked from social media, pictures sent by his friends

and even his parent’s pictures of going to the beach without him as he was already, what they liked to call him, "a fully-fledged adult"—he would be envious of them

he only experienced summer in the confines of the pool

he wanted sand

he wanted to dig in anything that was sand

mark was getting tired of thinking of snow as sand

it was cold, it melts, and is annoying to get rid of

but sand?

sand, for him, was a privilege

it was that serious for him

so when you invited your bf!mark for a summer beach getaway this summer break

his eyes sparkled in delight

he took you in a tight embrace, carrying you and swirling you and him around the room as he repeated a bunch of thank you's

and you giggled, happy to see him in this state

as soon as he saw the view of the beach, the smell of salt air, the crashing waves, and the white sand, he wasted no time

he got his sand-digging supplies on the backseat of the car when you were done parking the car

then ran giddily barefooted on the soft and warm ground of sand

“mark! wear your sunscreen first!” you yelled at him, and he immediately ran over to you, his feet running in place as he stood in front of you

“hot! hot! hot!” he complained

the sand wasn't warm. it was scorching hot with the sun confidently glaring from the skies

“you should've worn your slippers before going out to the sand.” you nagged at him as he patiently waited for you to apply sunscreen all over his face, neck, and arms

at this point, you're already asking yourself if this was a date or if you were just treating his inner child

“go get your slippers in the car.” you said to him

“on it!” mark went back to your car parked behind you

you chuckled, finding his enthusiasm adorable, and walked to the car, applying your sunscreen on the car's side mirror

the noise on the trunk of the car filled with shuffling and displacing of things, mark humming to himself a made-up tune

“where art thou thine slippers?” the lyrics went on, and you giggled

it took a while before mark called you out

“babe?”

“yeah?” you answered, now applying sunscreen on your neck

“i think i forgot to pack my slippers…”

that's why you had an ominous feeling ever since you saw him filling up his things

he prioritized his shovel and sand bucket first, after all

“that's because you're too busy packing your shoveling supplies.” you replied

“sorry.” he apologized, a bit down that he couldn't play peacefully on sand

“just use my slippers.” you suggested, wiping evenly the white cast of the sunscreen on your neck. “i'll be staying in the shade, so i don't really need them.”

mark then ran towards you

stopped, as he stood beside you

and you're startled

you turned to look at him, seeing him smiling ear to ear

“what?” you asked with suspicion

he was saying nothing and had only been looking at you silently with a big smirk on his face for a few seconds already

he then wrapped his arms around your waist and showered kisses all over your face

you giggled at this, gently pushing him away since you had just applied your sunscreen

“i just finished wearing my sunscreen, you dummy!” you complained

but he knew you loved it

because despite you pushing him away,

you were smiling and laughing

he tightened his embrace, pulling you in closer and gave a final peck on your lips, leaving you stunned

and flushed

“i love you, babe. thank you for lending me your slippers.” he grinned

and you chuckled

as you gave him a sweet kiss on his lips

“you silly. now, go heal your inner child.”

#세트 . 🏝 — beach shenanigans #nct dream fluff #mark lee fluff #mark lee oneshot #nct dream #nct #mark lee x reader #mark lee #mark lee imagines #mark lee headcanons #nct imagines #mark lee scenarios #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct headcanons #mrk.lee #손가락 사이에 . ☕️

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utu-sun · 1 month ago

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Discover the Magic of Sunscreen Sticks for Everyday Use

Discover the convenience and protection of sunscreen sticks for your daily skincare routine. Lightweight, mess-free, and easy to apply, these portable wonders provide broad-spectrum coverage to shield your skin from harmful UV rays. Perfect for on-the-go use, sunscreen sticks ensure effortless sun protection anytime, anywhere. Stay radiant and protected!

#best sunscreen for sailors #best sunscreen for surfing #hydrating sunscreen #best sunscreen for sailing #outdoor spf skincare #zero white cast sunscreen #lgbtq+ sunscreen #plastic free sunscreen

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st44rkeys · 4 days ago

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Mr & Mrs Starkey

pairings: assassin rafe cameron x assassin fem reader

warnings: strong language, mention of organ/drug/human trafficking, explicit content

wc: 19,558

a/n: enjoyy<3

part 1, part 2, part 3

taglist: @highladyofhogwarts @marcibv @rafeskai @psychocitylights @niaizzy1623 @fuckeduppotato @drewwhor

“Bienvenidos a Cayo Santa María, Cuba. Disfrute su estancia" the guard at the cruise terminal greets with a warm smile. The sun is high casting a golden light over the vibrant port, and the air smells faintly of saltwater and tropical fruit. You return his smile with a polite nod as the crowd moves around you.

Rafe’s hand rests lightly on your shoulder, his posture relaxed as he gently guides you through the bustling scene. The rhythmic clink of jewelry and the murmur of travelers blend with the occasional burst of laughter from nearby tourists. He pulls you a little closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as you step together toward the pier, the sound of footsteps quickening with every step.

“Gracias" Rafe says

You roll your eyes “Is that the only Spanish word you know?” you ask amusement creeping into your voice.

Rafe scrunches his nose, a half smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he glances down at you. “Is it that obvious?”

You can’t help but snort, the sound cutting through the background noise of laughter and chatter. “Well yeah. You’ve said ‘gracias’ a thousand times and nothing else.”

You and Rafe stand side by side, both staring around in disbelief. The pictures hadn’t prepared you for how beautiful the place really was. The beach was close, just a short walk away, and it was packed with people kids running around, laughing, and shouting as the waves crashed on the shore. The scent of saltwater mixed with the faint smell of sunscreen and tropical fruit. On the other side, a green market stretched along the street, filled with colorful stalls selling fresh fruit, spices, and handmade goods makimg your mouth water.

The air was thick with the sounds of bargaining and chatter, the atmosphere warm and inviting. Down the road, at the end of it all, a neighborhood of stunning villas lined the coast. The white walls of the homes stood out against the lush green landscape, with large windows offering perfect views of the beach and ocean.

You felt a wave of longing, wishing this wasn’t a mission. It almost felt like you could just forget everything and enjoy the moment.

“It’s so pretty" you turn your head to take it all in. Rafe who’d been silently watching the scene, finally looks over at you his gaze softening just a little. “Yeah"

Rafe unlocks his phone, scanning the address he was sent. His fingers move quickly over the screen as he pulls up Google Maps and studies the directions. He looks up his eyes moving across the neighborhood perfectly manicured lawns, palm trees swaying in the breeze and says “At least we’ll be living good.”

You follow his gaze, taking in the amazing scene yourself, and a small cheer rises silently in your chest. You grab the suitcases without a second thought and head up the path. Rafe of course, ends up carrying most of the bags, the weight not bothering him in the least.

As you walk ahead the sound of your steps on the pavement fills the air, but Rafe’s attention drifts back to you. His eyes flicker over the way your shorts hug your figure, something in him tightening at the sight. He knows he shouldn’t be looking he knows better but it’s hard not to.

Clearing his throat, he quickly forces his gaze to the path ahead his jaw clenching slightly as he tries to ignore the uneasy feeling creeping up on him.

As you enter the neighborhood the beauty of the houses becomes even more striking clean lines, lush landscaping. The people here seem to be constantly aware of their surroundings and as you walk through, most stop what they’re doing to watch you. The looks range from sharp, envious stares to bored glances, as if they’re trying to figure out who you are or why you’re here.

As you approach the front door you stop noticing a security guard coming toward you, eyes trained on you both.

You exchange a quick knowing look with Rafe. He sighs clearly irritated. “Of course these rich idiots have guards" he mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes.

As the guard gets closer, Rafe takes off his sunglasses, sliding them into his pocket with ease. His expression shifts, and he straightens up slightly adopting a more neutral respectful posture. “Hello"

“You must be Mr. and Mrs. Starkey?”

You give a subtle nod flashing your most practiced smile. The guard mirrors the smile, his expression relaxing, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys.

“Here are your keys" he says smoothly handing them over. “If you need anything during your stay we’re available 24/7”

Rafe glances at him, raising an eyebrow. “24/7 huh? That’s nice” he says, a dry tone in his voice. “You’re working hard.”

The guard chuckles lightly. “It’s my job sir” he replies his smile never fading.

As the keys dangle from your hand you unlock the door and step inside, the soft rolling of the suitcases following immediately behind you.

You smile despite yourself as you take in the space. It’s small but there’s a certain charm to it. The bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen are all that occupy the space but it’s more than enough. The walls made of polished wood lend a vintage feel to the room, and the soft scent of cedarwood fills the air.

Your eyes fall on the bed in the center of the room massive and inviting. The sight of it makes you pause. Scattered across the bed are delicate petals, forming the faint outline of initials yours and Rafe’s, well Jane and Drew.

Rafe snorts

You step further into the room, your eyes wandering over the surroundings. The balcony catches your attention the sliding door leading to it wide open. Stepping toward it you find two chairs with a small table between them. The view outside isn’t much, but it’s peaceful.

You glance back toward Rafe, who’s standing just inside the door his posture as rigid as ever. He hasn’t said much since you arrived, his eyes scanning the room with the same detachment he always wears.

“Not bad" you say, breaking the silence

His gaze flickers toward you, then quickly back to the room, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “It’ll do" he mutters

With a single knowing glance exchanged between the two of you, the atmosphere shifts. There’s an unspoken agreement and in an instant your instincts take over. You start scanning the corners of the room for any hidden cameras, eyes narrowing as you quickly assess the space. It only takes a moment but you see no immediate signs of surveillance.

Rafe’s gaze sharpens and with a subtle nod he points toward the bathroom, then toward you. You don’t need any more cues. Without hesitation, you reach into your bag, pulling out the bug scanner. Your fingers move with practiced precision as you head for the bathroom.

You click the scanner into place, letting it sweep the room for any hidden devices. Every second counts, and you methodically check every corner of the small space, eyes scanning the tiles and mirrors for any anomalies.

Meanwhile in the other room Rafe works just as fast. He places the scanner on the bed, allowing it to sweep for signals. He closes the curtains with quick, the soft fabric falling into place and then moves on to check under the bed. Every drawer is opened, every nook inspected.

As he opens the last one, pulling it out just far enough to spot a small, inconspicuous container. His eyes scan the contents and with a smirk he pulls out a box of condoms. The corner of his mouth twitches as he chuckles quietly, shutting the drawer with a soft click. “We won’t be needing that"

As you step out of the bathroom, your eyes lock with Rafe’s. The briefest of nods passes between you

“Clear"

“We should put the guns somewhere secure" you suggest voice low betraying no sign of urgency. Dropping to your knees you unzip one of the suitcases. Your fingers brush against the cool metal of the guns the weight of them familiar. You lift the bed with practiced ease, sliding the weapons beneath it making sure they’re hidden in the shadows.

Rafe moves beside you his gaze flickering over every inch of the room before he turns to gather smoke bombs and other explosives. He moves quickly, he’s done this a hundred times before. The weapons are hidden carefully in a compartment at the back of the closet tucked just beneath a pile of clothing.

With everything stashed away, you turn to the knives. Placing them inside a decorative vase on the table, you make sure to position them just right.

The room falls into a heavy silence as you take a step back assessing your work. You can hear Rafe moving around too putting the finishing touches on his side of things. Your pulse quickens slightly not from panic but from the subtle tension that always lingers in moments like this. You both know how easy it would be for someone to walk in and undo all of this. The whole operation would be huge fail

Not to mention, your heads would be gone too

Thirty minutes pass though it feels like an eternity. You slowly organize your clothes, neatly folding each item. There’s no trace left behind, no sign of anything out of place. Just a married couple, preparing for their vacation

Rafe lets out a low whistle as he walks up to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to look out. His eyes scan the street, taking in the small, quiet houses around them.

Curious you step up next to him nudging him slightly so you can get a look too. The neighborhood is quiet almost too quiet, like the kind of place where everyone pretends their lives are perfect. Some houses are small some bigger, but neat with tidy gardens and perfectly trimmed hedges. It’s the kind of setting that’s supposed to feel peaceful but just ends up feeling fake.

Your eyes drift to the house across the street. Andrea and Diego are just stepping inside their movements sharp and tense. Even from here, you can tell they’re arguing. Andrea’s arms are crossed tightly while Diego’s pacing ahead of her, throwing his hands up.

“Trouble in paradise" you mumble under your breath and Rafe snorts quietly in response.

Then his focus shifts and yours follows, both of you zeroing in on the house or rather, the mansion at the end of the street. It stands out like it’s begging for attention towering over the smaller homes around it.

'House' doesn’t even feel like the right word. It’s massive, with palm trees lining the driveway and a huge pool glittering out front. The kind of place that looks like it belongs to a celebrity or some tech billionaire. Floor to ceiling windows stretch across the front showing just enough of the inside to make you wonder what ridiculous stuff might be hidden away in there.

“Guess we know where that pig has been spending his blood money"

You can’t help but agree. The mansion is obnoxious in every way, from its size to the overly polished exterior. Everything about it screams excess like it was designed to flaunt power. But it doesn’t impress you. It just makes you think about the people who suffered to make it possible.

“The guards are gonna be a huge problem for us" you say, crossing your arms as you watch the street through the window.

Rafe lets out a sigh, his gaze lingering outside for a moment longer. “We’ll deal with them later" he says his voice calm but firm. Then his eyes meet yours. “First we just need to get that invite to the gala. And our new friends are gonna help us with that.”

You raise a brow at his confidence but don’t argue. He lets the curtain fall back into place, shutting out the view of the neighborhood as he turns toward the bed. For a moment he just stands there, his hands resting on his hips like he’s working through some silent thought.

Then a mischievous look flashes across his face. “Hold on" he moves toward the bed.

You watch as he grabs a handful of the rose petals someone had oh-so-romantically arranged earlier. Before you can ask what he’s doing he sits on the edge of the bed brushing the fake initials aside with an almost dismissive flick of his wrist.

“What are you-" you start but he cuts you off.

“Fixing this mess" he says simply. His hands work quickly, rearranging the petals into something new. Your eyes narrow as you step closer and then you realize what he’s doing.

It’s not the fake initials anymore. Now it’s your real ones, yours and his.

For a second, you’re too stunned to say anything. He looks up at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“There" he says leaning back a little to admire his work.

You cross your arms tilting your head as you stare at him waiting for an explanation. He doesn’t give you one. Instead he just shrugs that infuriatingly smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips like he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

Your eyes narrow. “What?” he says still grinning. “Don’t like a little romance?”

Rolling your eyes you grab your bag and without hesitation, toss it right onto the bed landing it square in the middle of his carefully arranged petals. The soft scattered mess feels oddly satisfying.

“Hey!” he calls out half offended half laughing. “I worked hard on that!”

You roll your eyes a habit you’ve developed far too quickly since being stuck with him and unzip your bag pulling out your laptop. Without a word you walk over to the desk and sit down flipping open the screen.

The familiar glow lights up your face as you quickly type in your password your fingers moving instinctively over the keys. Your focus sharpens on the task ahead even as you feel Rafe’s presence behind you.

It doesn’t take long before he joins you, casually dropping into the chair next to yours. He leans back stretching his legs out like he has all the time in the world. You glance at him briefly, catching his usual smirk

You ignore him, instead glancing at the scanner you’d placed discreetly by the door earlier. Its tiny green light blinks steadily a quiet reassurance that you’d know the second someone got too close. It’s a simple precaution, but necessary given the circumstances.

As you glance back at your screen, Rafe leans forward slightly his arm brushing yours. You stiffen just for a second, before focusing harder on the work in front of you.

“You know" he starts "we make a pretty good team. When you’re not ruining my hard work that is.”

You sigh, still typing, but can’t help firing back. “Good to know your definition of teamwork involves sitting there doing absolutely nothing.”

“Hey I’m the one who snagged his phone data" he defends nudging you with his elbow

Before you can fire back Rafe interrupts, nodding toward your laptop. “Click here" he says leaning closer and pointing at the screen.

You follow his direction, your fingers brushing the trackpad as you open the file. A list pops up almost immediately, lines of text neatly organized.

“It’s a list of his properties. Pope and Kelce sent this to me" you murmur scrolling through the entries. Your eyes skim over the names and locations. “Look at this a market, a meat processing plant… even a bunch of rental properties.”

Rafe peers over your shoulder, his brows furrowing slightly. “He could be hiding his stuff in one of the places"

You hum in agreement your mind already racing with possibilities. “We should dig deeper into this see which ones are actually worth checking out.”

“In the meantime" Rafe says, standing up and stretching with a slight grunt "we can go out, take a closer look around and grab something to eat. I’m starving.”

You glance at him your stomach agreeing more than your mind, and give a silent nod. You reach for your sunglasses and slide them on tucking your bag over your shoulder. As you move to walk past him your eyes meet his, an unspoken pause hanging in the air.

And that’s when it hits you.

You both are dressed exactly the same.

Black shorts, white pants. A black t-shirt, and a white crop top. Same sunglasses, perfectly matching.

You freeze for a moment, staring at him with disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” How did you not notice this before?

Rafe’s lips curl into a mischievous smirk as he leans casually against the wall arms crossed in an almost teasing posture. He looks you up and down his gaze lingering for just a beat longer than usual. “You’re looking good angel.”

It’s clear he’s been enjoying the matching outfits all along. After all he noticed right away, but what fun would it be to tell you?

You roll your eyes trying to mask the amusement creeping onto your face. “You couldn’t have told me sooner?”

Rafe shrugs nonchalantly clearly amused by your reaction. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You push open the door, stepping out into the quiet street with Rafe right behind you. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoes softly as he secures it. You start walking toward the gate your steps steady, Rafe falling into step behind you just close enough.

“Ahh, new neighbors?” a voice suddenly chimes from behind you cutting through the stillness of the air.

You turn to find a woman approaching with a large, almost too eager smile. She’s probably in her mid-30s, her steps quick and confident as she gets closer.

“Ah hi.”

Rafe moves silently beside you, his posture relaxed, his shoulder brushing yours as he shifts his weight. You feel the subtle tension in the air as he silently observes the woman.

The woman stops directly in front of you, her bright green eyes gleaming with what seems like unfiltered curiosity. Her red hair, shiny and perfectly styled, frames her face in loose waves, and her outfit is impossibly expensive, pristine and too flawless to be casual.

“My name is Katherine, but you can call me Katie" she says with a bright laugh, grabbing your hand and shaking it firmly.

You offer her a confident smile, not missing a beat. “Oh nice to meet you, I’m Jane.” With a slight tilt of your head, you motion to Rafe. “And this is Drew"

Katherine immediately takes Rafe’s hand, her grip tight, almost calculating. He meets her eyes with a level gaze, his handshake firm but controlled

"Hello"

You glance at their clasped fingers for a second, then shift your focus back to Katherine with a knowing smile. You slide your hand onto Rafe’s bicep, your touch easy and natural.

“My husband”

Katherine’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovers, her smile returning smoothly as she releases Rafe’s hand. “Welcome" she says, her tone almost too friendly. “I saw you earlier and thought I’d come over to say hi.”

Rafe's mind is already elsewhere could she leave already? he wonders silently. “Yeah we’re just here for a little vacation" he says his voice casual but with a hint of impatience.

Katherine nods, seemingly satisfied with the response. “Ah how long are you staying?”

“A week" you reply smoothly, but inside, your mind is ticking through the minutes. Every second she spends here is one you can’t get back. Her incessantly high-pitched voice is grating on your nerves, each word feeling like it’s triggering a warning signal in your brain.

You fight to keep your expression neutral, but your patience is wearing thin.

But Rafe being Rave, he can't wait. With a polite yet firm smile he steps forward, cutting the conversation short. “It was really nice meeting you but we have to go, we’re starving" he says, his tone friendly. He grabs your hand and starts to pull you away not even waiting for a response.

As you both move, you glance over your shoulder at Katherine, who looks momentarily taken aback. “Yeah I’ll see you two again…?” she says her voice trailing off in confusion.

You offer her a smile that’s more rehearsed than apologetic. “See you Katie"

If only you knew the kind of problems Katherine would cause later on. Had you realized it then you would’ve wasted no time getting rid of her.

You move through the crowded streets the hum of voices and the scent of street food filling the air. Rafe walks beside you. You feel the heat of the sun on your skin, the sweat starting to gather on your forehead as the midday heat presses in from all sides.

You swipe a hand across your forehead, trying to shake off the discomfort. You’re used to dealing with more dangerous things than the weather but still this heat makes everything feel heavier.

Rafe’s eyes dart from one vendor to the next, scanning the streets like he’s trying to read a map in a language he doesn’t understand. You’ve been walking for what feels like forever fifteen minutes maybe more and you still haven’t found any sign of the markets you’re supposed to be tracking down.

“Nothing" His jaw tightens as he glances over at you, clearly feeling the same unease.

You glance around the sheer number of people making everything feel like one giant blur of movement. You’re getting nowhere.

The chatter of the crowd seems to get louder in your head every voice blending into a dull hum. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re wasting time, time you don’t have to spare.

You look at Rafe noticing the slight furrow in his brow. He’s still scanning, still working, but his frustration is palpable now. It’s hard to miss the way his shoulders are tense, his hand slightly brushing the handle of the gun hidden beneath his jacket.

“That bitch is good” he scoffs

But then you spot Diego leaving a store with another man. You gently tap Rafe’s arm, tilting your head towards them.

He follows your gaze, slowly lowering his sunglasses, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. After a moment, his voice is low

“Diego” he mutters “kinda looks like Shoupe.”

You look at him. “Shoupe…?”

“Yeah" Rafe says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t tell me you don’t see it?”

Slowly the two of you make your way closer stepping off the main street and into a narrow alley where a small butcher shop stands. It looks oddly pristine for this part of island, almost too perfect. The walls are a fresh, bright white, and the counters gleam with that polished shine only something expensive can have. The glass display is full of various cuts of meat, neatly arranged in perfect rows, almost artfully laid out. It’s the kind of shop that looks more like an upscale restaurant than a local butcher.

You reach for the door but just as you do, something catches your eye. A small “Closed” sign dangles from the handle.

Rafe lets out a frustrated chuckle shaking his head. “These fuckers.”

“Do you think they’re hiding drugs?”

Rafe glances around quickly, his eyes narrowing as he steps up to the door. He peers through the crack, trying to get a glimpse of the inside, but it’s no use. He steps back and gives a resigned shrug his voice quieter now. “Or something worse.”

“Can I help you two?” A gravelly voice cuts through the air making both you and Rafe turn around.

A tall, bulky man stands behind you now, not quite as tall as Rafe, but still imposing. He’s dressed head to toe in black, his eyes hard as he glares at both of you. Rafe notices the gun tucked into his waistband, the silhouette of it just visible beneath his shirt, and the earpiece dangling from his ear.

He doesn’t miss a beat his smile easy and casual as he steps forward. “We were just passing by, thought we’d grab some meat.”

You follow his lead, glancing at the gun as you speak trying to seem disinterested.

“It’s closed, as you can see.” The man’s voice is icy, his tone sharper than before.

Rafe nods, his expression unfazed, and gestures toward the sign with a shrug. “Yeah I saw that. But can I ask why? I mean it’s the middle of the day.”

The guard’s lips twitch just slightly, as if the question bothers him more than he lets on. You decide to press your luck, adding in your own comment with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah it’s strange. The meat looks so fresh too.”

The guard sneers, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer. “It’s closed and it’s none of your business” he snaps.

“Woah man, we were just asking.” Rafe’s tone shift dropping slightly as he raises his hands in mock surrender. He gestures toward you. “She’s pregnant and craving some lamb.”

You instinctively place a hand on your stomach, and the guard’s eyes flick down to it. His gaze lingers for a heartbeat longer than comfortable.

“Not my problem.” The guard’s voice is cold, clipped. “The restaurants are open. Go there and order food.”

Rafe’s hand twitches, a near subtle movement toward the gun tucked under his jacket. You catch it, a warning pulse of tension in the air.

You act immediately, reaching for his hand to stop him. “Let’s just go baby" you say softly, keeping your voice calm. You give him a reassuring squeeze, guiding him away from the guard.

You can feel the weight of the man’s stare on your backs, but you keep your eyes straight ahead refusing to look behind. As you both walk away the faint click of his earpiece sounds behind you.

“Nosy tourists" he mutters under his breath, “nothing suspicious… yet.”

“That fucking asshole" Rafe mutters, his voice laced with irritation as he strides ahead of you. He stops and turns back, his eyes narrowing. “We have to get in there.”

“Calm down James Bond. We will" you reply, removing your sunglasses with a casual flick of your wrist.

Just as you’re about to take a step forward a body suddenly crashes into yours knocking you off balance and sending you straight into Rafe’s arms. You’re barely able to steady yourself as his hands grip your waist to keep you from falling.

“Lo siento señora" the stranger mumbles, his words thick with an accent, his hands still awkwardly placed on you as if apologizing for the collision.

Rafe’s grip tightens on you, and you feel the heat of his chest against your back. “Watch where you’re going, asshole" he snaps.

You feel the moment shift your breath catching in your throat as your gaze involuntarily meets Rafe’s. You make the mistake of looking up, and suddenly, his eyes lock with yours. His face is inches from yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. His breath hitches just a fraction of a second, and you can almost hear the pounding of your heart.

For a moment, neither of you move, both of you suspended in that quiet space, the world around you forgotten. His eyes seem to reach deeper, reading you, searching you… and you feel something stir beneath your skin that you can’t quite explain.

His gaze traces the curve of your nose, then drifts down to your eyes watching the way they seem to sparkle in the sunlight, a brightness that makes him pause for a split second. Pretty, he thinks to himself though he doesn’t let it show.

“Lo siento mucho" the man apologizes again his voice softer now as he steps back.

You quickly pull yourself from Rafe’s arms, turning to face the stranger. “No te preocupes está bien" you reply smoothly offering him a reassuring smile. The man nods and grins, then turns to leave still apologizing under his breath.

Rafe watches you walk away, his eyes widening in realization. “Wait-wait, you knew Spanish the whole time? And you let me suffer trying to figure out what the staff were saying?”

You smirk walking past him with a casual air. Just as you pass a table with a vendor selling sweets, you slip your hand out and grab a lollipop, unwrapping and popping it into your mouth with a teasing look.

“I can’t say I didn’t enjoy seeing you suffer" you say with a sly smile, the candy crunching between your teeth.

Rafe chuckles softly, shaking his head as he reaches for more candy, slipping it into his pocket as he falls into step behind you.

You and Rafe wake early sunlight already brightening the room. After a quick breakfast and planning session, you both get dressed polished and expensive, as always and head out. The goal is clear: Bojan’s market. Thankfully you manage to leave the house without running into Katherine which already feels like a small victory.

As you approach the market, its polished exterior stands out against the surrounding buildings. The spotless windows and well-maintained signage scream wealth

You take a quick glance at the cashier through the glass door a boy who can’t be older than twenty five. He’s slouched behind the counter, headphones in, scrolling on his phone without a care in the world.

“It’s a boy" you mutter under your breath to Rafe.

“Yours to deal with" Rafe replies casually, giving you a pointed look.

You let out a small sigh before loosening your hair, letting it fall naturally around your shoulders. A quick glance down at your shirt, and you unbutton just enough to show a tasteful hint of cleavage.

When you look up, Rafe is staring an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“What?” you ask defensively, smoothing out your shirt.

“Nothing" he says but there’s a teasing tone in his tone.

“Just focus on your part okay?”

“I always do” he says with a shrug, already scanning the market layout for potential weak points.

Rafe pulls out his phone, dialing Kelce. The line barely rings before Kelce’s voice comes through smug and overly chipper.

“Mr. Starkey always a pleasure to hear from you,” Kelce greets his tone practically dripping with sarcasm.

Rafe closes his eyes briefly, already regretting the call. “Don’t start Kelce. Did you loop the camera feed?”

There’s a pause the sound of rapid typing in the background before Kelce responds. “Yeah the video’s looping. You’re good to go. Store’s blind for the next twenty minutes.”

“Good.” he nods glancing toward the store as he ends the call. He tilts his head slightly in your direction. “We’re clear.”

Hanging up, he slides his phone back into his pocket and turns to you. “I’ll go in first. Give me thirty seconds, then follow.”

“Got it.”

Rafe smirks faintly before stepping toward the door, slipping into character as if it’s second nature.

The cashier barely looks up as Rafe walks past him his attention still glued to his phone. With a roll of his eyes, Rafe makes his way toward the fridges, casually humming to himself.

Then he hears the door open behind him.

You step inside your heels clicking on the smooth floor, the sound sharp against the otherwise quiet market. You don’t look at the cashier, but you can feel his eyes on you. It’s almost too easy.

As you make your way through the aisles you glance back over your shoulder. The moment you catch his gaze his face flushes red. You smile, letting him stew in the moment. This is going exactly as planned.

You pick up a couple of chocolates from a shelf and make your way to the counter. The moment you step up, the boy stands up so fast his chair nearly topples over.

“Hi" you say sweetly, keeping your tone light and friendly your smile sharp. His eyes immediately dart down to your cleavage before snapping back up to your face. You notice the way his throat works as he gulps.

“I’m having a hard time deciding. Maybe you could be a good boy and tell me which one is better?” You give him a soft smile, watching as his eyes flicker between you and the chocolates.

From the earpiece in your ear, you hear Rafe’s amused chuckle. “Don’t let him wet his pants" he teases.

You smile, barely holding back a laugh.

As Rafe watches the guy’s attention stay fixed on you, he moves swiftly toward the staff room. Quietly, he tests the door handle. Locked.

A curse slips from his lips as he pulls out the pin lock from his pocket. His fingers work quickly, the lock clicking open within seconds.

He glances over his shoulder at you, still engaged in conversation with the boy his smile wide and distracted.

With a quiet push Rafe slips into the staff room. The moment the door swings open, a sharp unpleasant smell hits him. He wrinkles his nose but pushes forward, his eyes scanning the room. The space is cramped, filled with boxes of various sizes, all stacked haphazardly on shelves and the floor.

Rafe pulls out his phone, snapping quick photos of the scene. His gaze drifts over the cluttered shelves as he moves toward the closest box. He pulls out his knife, expertly slicing the tape on the top and peering inside. Chips. Just chips.

A frown crosses his face as he cuts open the other end. Same thing. Chips.

Rafe checks another box, the third one, but it’s the same. Frustration edges his thoughts. Just when he’s about to move on, something catches his attention. A package of chips, but the label is odd half of it is covered with a red square.

Curiosity piqued he opens the box and pulls one of the bags out. As he holds it, a small chuckle escapes him. There’s no crunch, no weight of chips. He rips the bag open, it is packed with powder-cocaine, LSD, and a few other drugs.

“Of course" Rafe mutters under his breath. He takes a handful of the chips, concealing them in his jacket and carefully tapes the bag back shut. Moving to the next box which is slightly bigger

he opens it to find a different kind of surprise. This one is filled with guns, neatly stacked their cold steel gleaming in the dim light.

He scoffs muttering another curse. He moves quickly to the set of fridges at the back. As he opens one the door creaks loudly the noise echoing through the small storage room.

The boy’s head jerks toward the staff room as he hears the sound. “Uh did you hear that?” he asks his voice tinged with suspicion.

You smile sweetly running your fingers through your hair, leaning slightly toward him. “Hear what?”

He glances back at you, looking flustered. “Sorry just wait here. I need to check something-"

You cut him off with a playful tilt of your head, quickly sliding your hand over his. “But I thought you’d be more interested in my number"

your fingers barely grazing his skin, making him freeze, caught off guard.

“Y-your number?”

“Good job angel. Keep him occupied" Rafe murmurs. He moves toward the fridge, his fingers brushing against the bottles. Three of them. All covered. He picks one up, its label unreadable, then pops it open. The smell hits him instantly, and he recoils, nearly gagging. This definitely wasn’t cherry.

With a grimace he slams the fridge door shut, his eyes scanning the room as he works. He places trackers in the boxes, carefully hiding them among the stacks of goods, ensuring they won’t be noticed.

Once done, he exits the back room his eyes flicking toward the counter where you’re still talking to the boy. He mutters under his breath “I’m done.”

You, now fully in character flash him a quick smile. “Oh I have to go now I’m late for something.” You grab the chocolates and wave your hand dismissively at the boy your lips curling into a playful grin.

“But you didn’t give me your num-”

You cut him off with a nonchalant shrug not even turning around. “Yeah call me.” Your voice carries over your shoulder as you start walking away.

He watches, dumbfounded muttering to himself “And you didn’t pay…”

As you stride forward Rafe effortlessly falls into step beside you.

“Did you find anything?” you ask keeping your tone casual

He nods his jaw tight, his expression darkening. “Yeah something unexpected. But let’s head home first.”

The moment you step through the door though, your eyes flicker to the corner. And there she is. Katie coming closer

Without a second thought you close the door swiftly blocking her out.

You don’t have the time or energy for her nonsense right now.

Rafe flings the chips onto the table, one bag already open. As they scatter, you watch in silence as the contents fall out. Little packets of white powder mixed with the debris of the chips. Right next to them, several bottles of juice tumble onto the table. Your eyes flicker back and forth between the items

You pick up one of the drug packets and inspect it carefully “He isn’t as sly as he thinks" you mutter your fingers brushing over the contents.

Rafe still standing, lets out a low huff before grabbing one of the juice bottles from the pile tosses it in your direction. “Open this"

You glance at him slightly confused before looking back down at the bottle. You open it with a quick twist, and as you bring it to your nose to sniff a wave of foul stench assaults your senses. The liquid smells rotten, sharp and sour, making your stomach turn. You quickly pull it away from your face the smell still lingering in your nostrils.

"What the fuck"

You hold it up in front of you, staring at the thick dark liquid swirling inside. “Is this… fucking blood?” you ask your voice barely above a whisper as you try to make sense of it. The red liquid inside is too familiar, like the blood you’ve seen spilled during your missions.

"Call Wes and Shoupe"

“Blood you say?” Wes repeats his voice tinged with disbelief as his face and Shoupe’s appear on your laptop screen.

Rafe nods his expression grim. “Yeah guns, drugs, I planted trackers so you can track the shipment. But there’s also the blood.”

He holds up the glass, the dark red liquid sloshing ominously inside. Wes and Shoupe exchange a look clearly unsettled.

“We’re not sure if it’s animal or human but…” You pause. Your fingers tap lightly against the edge of the desk, the uncertainty hanging in the air.

“You need to get into that butcher shop tonight,” Shoupe says, his voice firm, as he leans in closer to the screen. “We need confirmation on whether it’s human or animal blood. Both have different implications, but we need to know for sure.”

Rafe leans back in his chair, his expression hardening. “Do you think the blood’s tied to some ritualistic bullshit, or is it being mixed with drugs?” He drags out the words, his tone hinting at the frustration building inside him.

Wes removes his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sighs. “Honestly it could be for any number of things. Drugs, organ trafficking, ritualistic cults, black market dealings, even twisted experiments. The possibilities are endless.” His eyes narrow slightly as he glances at the image on the screen. “And all of them are bad news.”

“Get into the butcher shop and find everything" Shoupe instructs his voice sharp and direct. “Take pictures, plant a small camera whatever you can.”

Wes’s voice follows equally urgent. “We didn’t find much on Diego Gomez’s phone but keep an eye on him. He’s been seen with Bojan practically everywhere.”

You and Rafe both nod in agreement, but as the call ends, you find yourself staring at your own reflection in the dark screen of the laptop.

The laptop screen flickers before a photo of JJ’s ridiculous grinning face fills the frame, making you groan audibly. Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Do we have to answer this again?” he mutters.

You sigh. “Im gonna regret this.”

“HI LOVE BIRDS!” JJ yells his voice way too loud, as Topper shoves him aside to get in the frame.

“Hi babies!” Topper chimes in waving enthusiastically.

“Move I wanna see—”

“Why is Rafe’s big ass head taking up the whole screen?

“Guys stop"

“I’m hanging up-" Rafe starts reaching for the laptop.

“Wait wait just ignore them" Pope cuts him off, stepping into view as he waves the others out of the frame. “We called for a reason. Something’s come up.”

Rafe leans back, crossing his arms, his scowl deepening. “This better be good.”

"I just sent this to Shoupe and Wes" Pope clears his throat and adjusts the mic. “While I was digging into Bojan's finances, I found a few connections I wasn’t expecting. He’s been funding a… specialized facility just outside the city. It’s not publicized, but it’s labeled as dealing with ‘biological preservation.’”

You furrow your brows. “What does that even mean?”

“That’s the thing. It’s vague. No published research, no university partnerships, nothing you’d usually associate with a legitimate facility. And the shipments they’re processing? They’re marked as ‘biological materials.’ High-value. Temperature-controlled. Fragile. Weirdly secretive.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens. “So what, you think it’s some underground science experiment?”

Pope hesitates before responding, his tone more serious. “I don’t know yet. But there’s something shady about the setup. The permits for the shipments are incomplete, and there are inconsistencies in the manifests like they’re deliberately hiding what’s being moved.”

“What’s actually in the shipments?” you ask leaning forward slightly.

“I don’t have solid proof yet" Pope admits, glancing off-screen as if checking his notes. “But from what I’ve pieced together they’re moving something valuable enough to require extreme secrecy and heavy security.”

Rafe narrows his eyes at the screen. “And Diego’s involved?”

“Definitely" Pope confirms. ��His phone’s been tracked near the facility multiple times. He’s clearly tied to whatever operation Bojan’s running there. Look I’m still piecing it together, but all the roads keep leading back to this ‘preservation facility."

“Got it" you say finally, your voice steadier than you feel.

“Just… be careful" Pope adds.

Sarah’s face suddenly fills the frame. “HEY YOU GUYS!” she screams practically bouncing with excitement when she spots you both.

You can’t help but smile at her energy. “Hi Sarah" you say warmly.

Behind her, John B appears his hand resting casually on her waist. Rafe’s eyes narrow immediately, his head tilting slightly as if to get a better look.

“Wait a damn second- why is he touching you like that?” Rafe blurts his tone sharp.

Sarah freezes, her eyes going wide as she glances nervously at John B. Before anyone can respond JJ’s voice booms from somewhere off screen loud and obnoxious "BECAUSE THEY’RE FUCKING!”

And just like that the call cuts out, leaving you staring at the blank, black reflection of the laptop screen.

"I'm going to kill that boy" Rafe growls,

You arch an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

"Pretty sure you've done enough damage already"

You tighten the small bag around your wrist, double-checking everything.

Knife.

Pills.

Injections.

Camera.

Everything’s in place. You pull your ponytail tighter, the strands pulling against your scalp as you turn toward Rafe. He’s focused, loading the guns with a calm precision. You extend your hand and without a word he hands you a weapon.

You glance down at the gun, then back at him, raising a brow. “Why do I get the woman’s gun?”

Rafe looks at you, a mix of confusion and irritation in his eyes. “Just take it" he mutters, clearly not in the mood for a back and forth.

You shake your head smirking as you hand the gun back to him. Swiftly you reach for his, tucking it behind you in one fluid motion. You straighten up and look him dead in the eyes

“I’m ready.”

Rafe shakes his head muttering under his breath as he tosses your gun into the closet with a soft clink then grabs another one from the rack.

It’s midnight, dead quiet. Not a single light flickers in any of the houses around you. The streets are empty, not even a car passing by. Just the stillness of the night.

You and Rafe slip out of the house, moving like slowly, careful not to make a sound. Every step is calculated every movement deliberate. No one can know you’re here.

The shop is close now, just a few blocks away. You pause, holding up your hand to signal Rafe to stop. You’re waiting on Kelce’s confirmation that the cameras are down. The seconds stretch, every movement feeling like it’s happening in slow motion. Then, a soft beep in your earpiece.

“Cameras are off. You’re clear" Kelce’s voice crackles through.

You notice a guard standing in front of the door his attention fixed elsewhere. He's alone. You turn to Rafe giving him a quick subtle hand signal- left for him, right for you. Without a word, he nodded and the two of you silently split up.

You pull out the injection from your bag, feeling the weight of it in your hand as you moved toward the guard, making sure your footsteps were quiet on the ground. You stay low, the shadows providing some cover as you closed the distance.

Once you were close enough you glance at Rafe who had positioned himself just out of sight. His eyes meet yours and with a brief silent nod, you both move in unison. You approache the guard from behind, your steps calculated, and with a quick motion, you press the needle into his neck. The sharp jab went unnoticed, and in moments, the sedative took effect.

You cover his mouth to stifle any noise as his body went slack and with Rafe’s help, you lowered him to the ground, ensuring he didn’t make a sound. You'll place him inside later

Rafe let out a quiet sigh, scanning the area around him. His eyes settled on a small device on top of the door. With a quick practiced motion, he placed another device on top securing it in place.

A few tense seconds passed the air thick with anticipation. Then a faint static buzz came through the earpiece followed by Pope’s voice. “Alarm’s off" he says

You didn’t need to hear anything more. Without a word, you reach into your pocket and pulled out the pin locket. You didn’t hesitate your fingers working quickly and efficiently as you set to unlocking the door, the soft clicks of the mechanism the only sound as you focused, determined to get inside.

You step into the shop, the door creaking softly. as you ease it open. Everything seems fine nothing suspicious. The dim light of the hallway does little to reveal any immediate threat.

You then go grab the guard, and put him in the chair behind the counter. This will do. Rafe glances at you, his eyes flicking to the door on the left. Without a word, he motions toward it. “I’ll check this one. You take the other.”

You nod moving toward the opposite door. As soon as you open it, a cold draft hits you, and the darkness swallows you whole. You fumble for your flashlight, clicking it on, but the second the beam cuts through the shadows, the stench hits you a disgusting one, choking odor that makes your stomach turn.

You wince and pull your shirt up over your nose, but it’s no use. The smell is overpowering. The light moves forward, pigs, lambs, cows all hanging from the ceiling, their bodies skinned clean, heads severed.

Your stomach churns violently, but you force yourself to look away from the grotesque sight. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood, and it clings to your skin. The smell is unbearable, stinging your nose, and you fight to keep from gagging.

Rafe’s voice crackles through your earpiece. “Can’t find shit just files.”

You hum in response. “Keep looking for what Pope told us. Maybe you’ll find their payment records.”

“On it" Rafe replies, the determination in his voice unmistakable despite the irritation.

You reach for your gun gripping it tightly. Slowly, you move to your left, scanning the dim room. The quiet is almost suffocating, the only sound being the soft shuffle of your footsteps on the floor. You pause, then turn your head to the right the beam of the flashlight cutting through the darkness.

As your light glides across the room, you catch sight of a row of knives, their blades gleaming coldly in the faint light. Then, at the far end of the room something catches your attention. A wall, almost blending into the surroundings, but covered with a heavy set of plastic curtains. A soft, eerie blue light spills from behind it flickering like a warning.

You step closer, the foul stench growing stronger with every step. Holding your gun in one hand, you pull aside the plastic curtains, wincing as the harsh blue light floods your vision, making your eyes ache.

Inside the space, the scene unfolds

knives, industrial fridges, and the bottles Rafe had found earlier, all arranged methodically. The cold inside hits you like a wall, much colder than the room you’d just left, making your body shiver involuntarily.

“Win, I found some payments" Rafe’s voice comes through, but you barely hear him. Your focus is consumed by what’s in front of you.

You set your gun down on the table, fingers itching as you approach one of the fridges. You tug at the door, but it’s sealed tight. Locked. Motherfucker.

You pull a pin lock from your pocket, with swift, practiced movements you set to work. Ten seconds. The lock clicks open. You don’t hesitate yanking the door open, but the moment it swings wide, the smell hits you like a punch to the gut. The contents inside make your stomach churn violently, and you almost throw up right there.

It’s worse than you imagined.

But that’s nothing compared to what you see inside.

You almost scream.

You’ve killed more than you care to count, as an assassin, you’ve seen the darkest sides of humanity but this? This is a whole different level. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at the stacked lungs, at least fifty of them neatly arranged, each one a grim reminder of lives stolen. Your knees weaken beneath you and for a moment the room spins.

You force yourself to look closer, your gaze falling to the label on top of the lungs: 48 hours.

“Angel?”

You shake yourself out of the haze, turning toward the other fridges. You unlock the other one. Livers. The next? Kidneys. They’re all here lined up, cold, and lifeless.

“Angel what happened?” Rafe asks again his voice urgent now and you can hear the sound of something shifting in the background.

“Rafe… they’re fucking organ trafficking" you say the words bitter in your mouth your voice shaky as you fight the bile rising in your throat. “Their fridges are stacked with kidneys, livers… everything.”

Rafe doesn’t waste a second. He grabs the files and bolts out of the office, moving quickly toward the next room. As he enters, he instinctively covers his nose, the stench from the fridges unbearable.

“Where are you?”

You answer, and without hesitation, he follows the faint blue glow of the light, his steps quickening as he approaches the source.

When he finally steps inside, he freezes. His eyes dart to the open fridges the sight before him enough to stun him into silence. The shock is palpable as he takes in the rows of organs the reality of what you’d uncovered hitting him all at once.

“This man is sick" you mutter disgust clear in your voice as you pull out your phone, snapping photos of the gruesome scene. The weight of the horror still presses on your chest, but you force yourself to focus, capturing every detail.

Rafe swallows hard doing his best to block out the stench that clings to the air, his expression grim as he works. He places a tracker and a bug just outside one of the fridges, hiding them with precision, making sure they’re undetectable.

Once you’ve taken the last of the photos, you step back closing the fridge doors and locking them again.

“Are you okay?” Rafe asks his voice softer now. You glance at him, the dim blue light casting sharp shadows across his face. The concern in his eyes cuts through the tension, but you hold yourself together.

You nod, your voice steady, though the disgust lingers in your gut. “Yeah… just disgusted.”

“Shit" Rafe mutters, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes zero in on the bulky man from yesterday striding toward the store.

You glance over and immediately stiffen, a wave of annoyance and adrenaline crashing through you. “Why the hell is he here?” you bite out

Rafe’s response is immediate. He reaches for his gun the metallic click echoing softly in the tense silence. “I’ll disconnect the device. You cover our tracks, we’re out through the office window.”

There’s no room for argument. Both of you move like a well-oiled machine. Rafe's hands are steady as he works on dismantling the device. Meanwhile you scour the room grabbing a crumpled newspaper from a drawer. It’s a weak cover, but it’ll do. You slip it into the sleeping guard’s hands, carefully arranging it to look like he’s been dozing off during his shift.

“Done" Rafe murmurs, straightening as he pockets the device.

Without a word, he turns and grips your shoulders his touch firm but steering you towards the office.

You shrug him off with a glare. “I know where the fucking office is.”

“Then stop wasting time" he shoots back his voice clipped. His focus is razor sharp, but you don’t miss the flicker of amusement in his eyes. Even now he can’t resist pushing your buttons.

“Let’s wait until he shuts off the alarm" Rafe whispers in your ear his breath warm and deliberate against your skin. You nod silently, keeping your eyes trained on the man approaching the store.

The bulky figure slows as he reaches the storefront, his expression twisting into disdain when he spots the guard slumped over fast asleep.

With an irritated scoff the man punches in the code on the keypad, the faint beep of the alarm deactivating breaking the tense silence. The door creaks open, and he strides inside his irritation radiating like a stormcloud.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he barks, kicking the chair out from under the groggy guard. The sudden jolt sends the man jerking awake disoriented and blinking in confusion.

“Wha- where am I?” the guard mumbles his voice thick with sleep.

“Where are you? This is the second time I’ve caught you sleeping on the job. Are you trying to get yourself killed or are you just that useless?”

“Now" Rafe whispers, his hand gripping the window handle.

You grab his wrist before he can move, your eyes snapping toward the door as a shadow shifts just outside. Without a word, you yank him behind a nearby closet, pressing yourself against the wall as the space barely fits the two of you.

Rafe raises an eyebrow, clearly about to make some snide remark, but you silence him with a finger pressed firmly to his lips. His brow furrows slightly, then lifts in quiet amusement, his smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth.

The door creaks open. The man steps inside scanning the room with sharp eyes. His heavy boots echo softly against the floor. Your heart pounds in your ears as you hold your breath. Rafe’s arm slipping around your waist, tugging you closer.

The silence is heavy, every sound threatening to give you away. Finally the man seems satisfied and steps back out, the door clicking shut behind him.

You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and try to step away but Rafe doesn’t let you go. His arm remains firmly around your waist, keeping you pressed against him.

“Rafe" you whisper glaring up at him.

He tilts his head his smirk infuriatingly smug. “Admit it. You liked that a little too much.”

Your jaw tightens heat rising to your cheeks. “Let go of me" you hiss trying to push at his chest but he doesn’t budge.

“Not until you admit it" he says, leaning closer, his dark eyes glinting with mischief.

“Rafe" you growl under your breath, but his smirk only widens "We have to leave"

“You’re not denying it"

“Because it’s ridiculous" you snap, finally managing to shove him off. He releases you with a quiet chuckle

As you straighten and move toward the window, his voice follows you, soft but maddeningly smug. “For the record" he drawls "I wouldn’t mind hiding with you like that, again"

You whip around to glare at him, but he’s already moving toward the window, acting as if nothing had happened leaving you silently fuming, and a little flustered.

Rafe climbs out first landing smoothly before turning back to hold the window open. His hand extends toward you palm up, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

You narrow your eyes your glare sharp enough to cut. Ignoring his outstretched hand entirely you swing yourself through the window, landing gracefully beside him without so much as glancing his way.

Rafe looks at you then down at his outstretched hand his expression shifting to one of mild amusement. He scratches the back of his head, a slow chuckle escaping his lips.

“Okay"

You walked ahead of Rafe, as always, his steady footsteps following you. The silence between you two was oddly comforting, and for a brief moment you actually found yourself enjoying it.

That is, until your eyes landed on your damn redheaded neighbor.

You muttered under your breath "Deal with your fan" as you pushed open the gate and started toward the door your steps quickening with annoyance.

Rafe let out a long exasperated sigh, his eyes squeezing shut as he caught sight of Kathleen. She gasped dramatically when she saw you pass by without so much as a glance, but her face instantly lit up the moment her gaze shifted to Rafe.

“Drew hi!” she called out her voice high pitched and cheerful.

Rafe’s mind immediately raced as he watched her, his thoughts a mix of confusion and disbelief. It’s 1 AM, for god’s sake what is she doing wandering around at this hour?

“Hey Kathleen" Rafe says with a tired grin, not even bothering to hide his annoyance.

“Katherine"

“Right Katherine" Rafe mutters, rolling his eyes. “Nice catching up with you-"

Before he can finish, her eyes widen, and she interrupts. “So what were you two doing? Just walking around at this hour?”

Rafe halts mid-step turning slowly to look at her an eyebrow quirked. “I could ask you the same thing"

She waves her hand dismissively, laughing lightly. “Oh I was just at my friend’s place, borrowing a springform pan. I’m making a cheesecake lemon cheesecake to be exact.”

She keeps going hardly pausing for breath. “Andrea invited us over for dinner tomorrow thought I’d bring something sweet. Mr. Banovic will be there too, don’t know if you’ve met him.”

Rafe who was about to open the gate, stops. He turns to her with a raised eyebrow. “Mr. Banovic huh? Yeah I know him.”

Katherine doesn’t seem to notice his sudden shift rambling on. “Yeah so she invited us, half of the neighborhood actually. Do you like cheesecake, Drew?”

Rafe smiles. “I actually love it.”

Your eyes narrow as you watch Rafe smile at her- smile. That warm, effortless, pretty smile. It makes your stomach twist but you don’t want to admit it. You’re regretting stepping inside now.

“The conversation can’t be that interesting" you mutter to yourself trying to push down the discomfort gnawing at you. “Whatever.”

As much we you want to shut the curtain and block it all out. But you can’t look away. Not when she places her hand on his shoulder so casually, so familiar. And when he doesn’t immediately move it your chest tightens.

You scoff, trying to mask the feeling creeping up on you. “I mean she’s literally flirting with a married man. What’s wrong with her?”

It’s not jealousy. You refuse to admit that. You’re just… uncomfortable with how she’s trying to wedge herself between a marriage.

A fake marriage. But she doesn’t know that.

The moment Rafe turns, you quickly slam the curtain shut hoping he didn’t catch you staring. But you know him too well. Nothing gets past him.

Without a second thought, you throw yourself onto the bed yanking the blanket over you. You don’t want to deal with him right now.

Rafe opens the door a small smirk tugging at his lips. For once that damn redhead proved to be useful.

His gaze shifts to you lying on the bed. You’re already in your cute silk blue pajamas, your back turned to him looking peaceful beneath the blanket. A soft smile curves his lips as he watches you.

He’d seen you just thirty seconds ago at the window.

He quietly removes his gun tucking it away, and then removes his t-shirt, slipping into a pair of shorts. Rafe moves to the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he settles beside you.

The room is draped in darkness, the only light coming from the faint glow of the kitchen window. It’s not much, but it’s enough for him to make out the silhouette of your body, the soft rise and fall of your breath beneath the blanket.

A minute passes. Then another. The silence stretches between you both, heavy and unanswered. Why aren’t you asking him about what she said? If you think he’s going to be the one to break the silence, you’re dead wrong-

“She invited us to Andrea’s dinner. Bojan’s going to be there" Finally Rafe lets out a soft sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

You don’t respond.

He blinks, about to repeat himself, when he feels you turn over to face him.

“Why would she invite us to someone else’s dinner?” you ask your voice thick with confusion.

Rafe forces himself to look away, a smile threatening at the corner of his lips. Don’t look at her… don’t look at her.

"We at least got the invite. Who cares if she’s a little weird?” His gaze flicks to you, the soft light from the window casting a glow on one side of your face.

Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, everything else fades. “No like in general, she’s weird" you say, the words coming out almost reluctantly. “She’s passive aggressive with me…”

"Really?

You raise an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with a quiet intensity. “And she’s obsessed with you and she definitely doesn’t like me. She called my outfit scandalous earlier today.”

He sighs unable to hide the slight grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth now. “She has a funny way of showing it.”

You pout, shifting to lie on your back, staring up at the ceiling. “It wasn’t scandalous. I looked pretty today.”

“You definitely did.”

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you murmur, “Thank you.”

“I thought you fell asleep" Rafe says, settling back and slipping his arms under his head with a relaxed sigh.

You roll your eyes, your voice soft. “…I was dozing off until you showed up.”

He chuckles liar. “You were at the window.”

Caught. You try to shrug it off, a half laugh escaping you. “Well for like two seconds then I left. She’s crazy. I wanted to see what she's doing"

He pushes himself up, propping himself up on his elbow as he turns to look at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. “You sure you’re not jealous?”

You let out a dry chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Why would I be jealous?”

He tilts his head, as if pondering. “Hmm… it’s a long list but the first reason would be because she likes me.”

Your brows furrow, a hint of frustration creeping in. “What are you hinting at?”

Mimicking his pose, you lean on your elbow, facing him. He grins the kind of grin that makes your blood boil in all the wrong ways. “You’re smart. Figure it out yourself.”

Oh how you wanted to punch his pretty face.

“I don’t think you realize just how angry you make me"

Rafe’s grin only widens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Aw I have that effect on you?”

“You don’t even deserve a good night" you mutter, turning your back to him as you settle into the bed. “I hope you die in your sleep.”

Rafe bursts out laughing, the sound annoyingly warm and amused. “Sweet dreams to you too, angel"

You press your lips together, smoothing out the dark red lipstick you’d just applied. Perfect. The rich color added a striking touch to your look, bold without overdoing it.

It was nearing 6 p.m., which meant it was almost time to head to Andrea’s house. You were just waiting on Rafe, who had gone to pick up a bottle of wine.

You had opted for a simple yet elegant black dress, a sleek sleeveless design, the neckline cut but connected with a trio of bows along, hugging your figure in all the right places. Your hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. To complete the look, you chose silver bracelets that caught the light just enough and small, understated earrings that added a hint of luxury without being too much.

You take the pie out of the refrigerator, setting it on the counter. You like to pretend you made it yourself, even though the bakery box gave it away.

Rafe walks in just as you’re wrapping the pie. He’s dressed simply in black pants and a tight black t-shirt.

Yeah, tight.

“What took you so long?” you ask trying to ignore how well the shirt fits him.

“Had to pick out an expensive wine-" He pauses mid sentence when his eyes land on you, his gaze lingering just a second too long before he recovers. “-and the line was insane.”

You hum in acknowledgment focusing on the pie, but the heat of his stare doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Uh" he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly looking out of place. “You look pretty.”

Your cheeks warm, and you avoid meeting his eyes. “Thank you. You look good too.”

He grins, that infuriatingly cocky grin. “Yeah, well that’s not hard.”

You roll your eyes fighting the urge to smile. Of course he had to ruin the moment.

Rafe glances at the pie in your hands raising an eyebrow. “When did you make that?”

“This morning" you say smoothly, then shrug with a small grin. “Well the bakery made it but we’re leaving that part out.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he opens the door for you. “You’re unbelievable.”

With a smirk you step outside the cool evening air brushing against your skin as Rafe follows his hand on your back.

“Tonight’s the night" Rafe murmurs, his gaze fixed on the big house as you both draw closer.

You sigh frustration lacing your voice. “We have to dickride him until we get the invite" you mutter, stopping just before the gate.

Rafe winces, his lips tugging into a rueful smile. “By the end of this, I’ll be lucky if I have any pride left at all.”

The door swings open, and Andrea steps outside with a warm smile. “Jane, Drew welcome!” she says wrapping her arms around both of you in a friendly embrace.

“Hi Andrea" you reply with a grin. “Thank you again for the invite.”

Andrea waves off your gratitude. “Oh it’s nothing. Come inside dear.”

As you both step over the threshold, you’re momentarily taken aback by the sheer size and luxury of the house. It’s so grand that you almost gasp in awe.

“Starkey" Diego calls out his eyes landing on Rafe. Without missing a beat, he strides forward and pulls Rafe into a tight hug.

“Hey man” Rafe says, giving Diego a friendly pat on the shoulder.

You smile, but your gaze shifts to Katherine, and the smile fades as a surge of irritation washes over you.

That bitch lied. Andrea had wanted to invite you both from the start, but she couldn’t find you at home. So she’d already told Katherine, but Katherine made it seem like she was the one who extended the invite just to get closer to Rafe.

And suddenly, the urge to hurt her just a little, was overwhelming.

You take Rafe’s hand gently pulling him closer. He meets your gaze for a moment before resting his hand on your waist, his touch warm as he hands Andrea the glass of wine.

“I also made this for you" you say offering Andrea the pie you’d 'prepared'

The blonde's face lights up with delight. “You didn’t have to, but thank you so much. Please head to the dining room. Katie, can you show them the way?”

Katie’s smile is tight as she gestures for you to follow her. You walk with Rafe at your side, his presence grounding, though your eyes wander as you take in the sheer size of the house. The dining room is massive, far bigger than you expected. The long table stretches across the room, easily seating over fifteen people.

You spot him immediatel Bojan. Seated at the head of the table, laughing with someone beside him. He looks exactly like the photos you’ve studied but in person, there’s an edge to him that the pictures didn’t capture. His presence fills the room like everyone is drawn to him without question without doubt. It’s not just power it’s control. You squeeze Rafe’s hand. There’s no hesitation, no hint of nervousness.

You take your seat, positioning yourself somewhat in the middle. Every eye in the room seems drawn to him and the weight of the moment hits you all at once. Andrea steps in, Diego at her side, and with a sharp clap of her hands, she commands the room’s attention. “Thank you all for coming tonight" she says. “A special thank you to Mr. Banović who graciously took the time to join us.”

The sound of applause fills the room, and without thinking, your hands start to clap, the sound hollow in your ears as you force yourself to join in.

Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver from Bojan, and in that exact moment their eyes meet. Bojan’s smile stretches wider a slow, deliberate thing, and he raises his glass in a silent toast. Rafe responds with a subtle nod his own glass lifting in return.

If only Bojan knew that in the end, Rafe was the one who was about to ruin his life.

As the maids begin placing the plates down, the room fills with the sound of silverware clinking and murmurs of conversation. The guests dive into their dinner, plates being passed around as everyone chats with each other. Rafe sitting across the table turns to Diego who’s seated near Bojan.

“I hope you’re feeling better" Rafe says acting concerned

Diego chuckles shaking his head. “Ah yeah thank God. No more trouble, at least for now" he replies with a grin

Bojan simply stares ahead continuing to eat with his mouth open, chewing loudly and without care. The sight of it almost makes you want to throw your knife at him in frustration.

Patience.

As he chews he nonchalantly gestures with his knife toward Rafe and Diego, his eyes flicking between them. “Who’s the new face?”

This was it.

“Drew Starkey and that’s his wife Jane" Diego pipes in, Rafe doesn't miss the way Diego’s eyes linger on you. He’ll deal with that later.

“Starkey? That last name sounds familiar" a man next to you says, turning to Rafe.

“Probably because he has his own firm. He’s a luxury estate developer" Diego explains, his smile almost too eager. You both know exactly why he’s so invested in the conversation, because he’s brought a wealthy successful family to the table.

Rafe nods, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah I have my own firm in North Carolina.”

The man beside you perks up, now understanding. “Oh right! I came to your firm when I wanted to design my penthouse in New York.”

You blink, caught off guard. Wait what?

Rafe glances at him just as confused as you are, though neither of you shows it.

“Ali Hassani" the man introduces himself. Rafe quickly acts like he recognizes the name nodding politely.

The truth? This man probably has Rafe confused with someone else entirely, but right now, it’s only working in Rafe’s favor.

“Ah I remember now" Rafe says smoothly, leaning back slightly. “How’s it working out for you? Is it meeting your expectations?”

The couple nods enthusiastically, their faces lighting up. “We absolutely love it" Ali replies. “It’s been perfect for us and for the kids too" his wife adds. “We might even reach out to you again in the future.”

Okay…

“Anytime"

“What kind of properties do you specialize in?” Bojan asks his tone casual, but his sharp gaze reveals he’s testing Rafe.

Rafe smirks to himself leaning back slightly, exuding calm confidence. Right where I want you.

“High-end residential properties, luxury estates, penthouses, you name it" he says smoothly, tilting his head as if considering his next words. “Lately I’ve been expanding into private islands. Actually just last month, I wrapped up a $5.1 million mansion for-" He pauses turning to you with a raised eyebrow. “Angel remind me- who was it again?”

You don’t miss a beat your lips curling into a sly smile as you meet Bojan’s gaze briefly. “William Harris" you say your tone casual but carrying just enough weight to land the blow. “A London businessman. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of him.”

The table falls silent

Oh Bojan has. The faintest flicker of recognition passes through Bojan’s eyes gone almost as quickly as it appeared, but it’s enough to confirm you’ve hit the mark. He sets his fork down slowly, his expression neutral, though the tension in his jaw is unmistakable. During your research, you uncovered the bitter rivalry between him and Harris—a competition over business, wealth, properties, and influence that runs deep.

This was it. The perfect jab. The nail in the coffin.

Rafe doesn’t so much as blink, he leans forward slightly placing his elbows on the table as if to close the distance. His gaze stays steady, unwavering, as a faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “It was a pretty low-profile project" he says smoothly. “You didn't hear it from me but pparently Harris is gearing up for something new. He was relentless about every detail, determined. From the way he talked, it’s clear he’s planning something big.”

“Is that so?” he says his eyes narrowing as they lock onto you and Rafe.

Come on, Bojan, you think, watching him carefully. Take the bait. Let it eat at you.

Diego lets out a nervous chuckle, the sound awkward and slightly strained. “Well our man Bojan here has been making new businesses left and right—all successful too.”

But he doesn’t acknowledge him. Instead, he picks up his glass, raising it slightly to signal the maid for more wine. The room falls quiet as the maid hurries over to pour, and you both watch him carefully, noting the controlled movements, the deliberate way he avoids meeting anyone’s gaze.

He takes a sip, his eyes fixed on the glass as he hums thoughtfully, the sound breaking the silence like a subtle warning. “Harris always had expensive taste” he says finally. Then, his gaze lifts, pinning Rafe with precision. “Tell me, Starkey, do you know anything about this… plan of his?”

Before Rafe can respond, you step in smoothly, your voice measured but disinterested, as if the question is barely worth your time. “Art of course. What's the best thing people buy these days?” you say, reaching for some salad without even looking at Bojan. “When he found out I collect pieces, he became very interested. Offered me a generous check but…” You pause letting your words hang in the air as you stab your fork into a cherry tomato. “I’m not too sure. I just don’t trust him. No offense.”

The statement lands like a stone in the quiet room, and you take the opportunity to glance around at the table. The flicker of surprise, curiosity, and unease in their expressions is exactly what you wanted. You chuckle lightly, leaning back in your seat. “But anyway" you say breezily, as if brushing it all aside. “Enough work talk. Let’s dig in.”

Bojan’s lips curl into a smirk, his eyes lingering on you. “You heard the lady" he says his tone laced with amusement as he raises his glass. “Let’s dig in everyone.”

Rafe’s hand slides over yours his fingers curling around yours in a gentle, reassuring squeeze. At this point, the intimacy feels natural like the way you breathe without thinking. You’ve grown used to the affection.

But then you feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you. You look up, and there she is Katherine. Her eyes are fixed on you both cold, her lips pulled into a tight, judgmental line. Bitch.

Without thinking twice you shift closer to Rafe, your side brushing against his as you lean in just a little more, making sure she knows exactly where you stand. You may be pretending, but that doesn’t mean you have to let her think she has a chance with Rafe.

She immediately looks away

After a relaxing dinner filled with light conversation, the group moves to the garden patio. It’s expansive, luxurious no surprise there.

You find yourself standing near the pool, the cool evening air mixing with the soft hum of chatter around you. Andrea stands beside you, her presence calming as always.

“So, how are you enjoying the vacation so far?”

You smile, looking out over the water. “Good. We really needed this break from work.”

Andrea chuckles softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah everyone does. Although we don’t exactly live here… this place feels like home to me.” She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, as if absorbing the serenity of the moment.

You tilt your head, curiosity piqued. “How long have you two been married?”

A soft smile tugs at Andrea’s lips as she reflects, her eyes distant for a moment. “Forty years.”

The weight of her words settles in. “I was married when I was 19" she adds quietly, almost as an afterthought, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

“Marriage is hard" Andrea says with a sigh “I mean, you’ve only been married this year, so you wouldn’t know that much yet. You learn how to be quiet, turn a blind eye, forgive things you never thought you could.” She vents the weight of her words hanging in the air, before she softens her expression. “I really hope marriage is kind to you Jane. You’re a good woman.”

If you only knew.

She doesn’t seem to notice the flicker of something, uncertainty. “But I don’t doubt it. Drew’s amazing too. He really loves you.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you freeze for a moment. Have we been that convincing?

Andrea watches you carefully, her eyes softening with understanding. “It’s the way you two look at each other. You can be all annoyed with each other-”

You can say that again.

“-but in the end, it’s the little things that give it away. The smiles after each argument. The little gestures of affection. That’s what shows the love, even when it’s unspoken.”

You swallow unsure of how to respond, you'd be lying if you said her words didnt make your heart flutter

Andrea laughs touching your ring "And of course this"

You glance at the ring, fake ring. Fake marriage, of course

All of this is fake

“Yeah I really got lucky with this one" you manage to say, though the words feel heavier than they should.

Andrea glances down at her empty glass with a slight groan. “Ugh let me go top this up" she mutters, then pauses, eyeing the room. “And figure out why Katie’s wandering around like that”

You laugh nodding in agreement. “Good luck with that"

As you turn to gaze at the pool, the cool ripples reflecting the dim lights, her words start to sink in.

What looks was she talking about? The way we look at each other hasn’t changed… has it?

Hatred. Annoyance.

That’s all it’s ever been. That’s all it should be.

Right?

But the longer you stare at your reflection, the less certain you feel.

Rafe doesn’t miss the way Bojan and Diego exchange glances towards him, their hushed conversation carrying just enough tension to confirm that everything is going according to plan.

As his gaze drifts back to the drinks he notices the maid reaching for an olive to drop into your martini.

“No without the olive please" he stops her just in time.

The memory flashes through his mind, you casually mentioning how much you hate olives. He isn’t sure why it stuck with him but it did. For some reason, he remembered.

Rafe picks up your martini and his whiskey, his gaze sweeping across the patio until it locks on you. He notices the way your fingers fidget with your bracelet- your tell when nervous.

Without hesitation he starts walking toward you, ignoring the faint call of his name from

Katherine. He doesn’t even glance back. Whatever she wants, it’s irrelevant.

When he reaches you, his arm slides around your shoulder in a smooth motion. He pulls you in close the heat of his touch grounding you as he holds your martini just within reach the movement casual but deliberate.

“Gracias" you murmur with a faint smirk, grabbing the glass

Rafe rolls his eyes, a quiet scoff escaping him. “Will you ever let that go?”

“Never" you reply a teasing edge to your voice as you take a sip of your martini.

The conversation fades leaving a comfortable silence between you. The cool night breeze brushes against your skin, carrying the distant hum of conversation from the others.

It feels good. The quiet. The closeness.

This feels good. Too good.

Rafe leans in, his lips brushing just close enough to your ear to send a shiver down your spine. “We did good" he whispers

Your breath hitches and for a second, you swear your knees might give out. “What?” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m saying we did good" he repeats, giving you goosebumps. “Bojan and Diego they’re talking about us.”

As you glance over, you spot Bojan heading in your direction. But Rafe doesn't care about him

now. He’s looking at you. His gaze lingers on the way your hair brushes against his face, the faint scent of your perfume catching his attention. You smell good.

“He’s coming" you whisper your breath warm against his jaw, the closeness making your voice barely audible. “We’ll talk to him for a bit, then I’ll slip away to Diego’s room see if I can find anything. Can you keep Bojan occupied long enough?”

“Easy angel”

“My favorite people" Bojan exclaims with a boisterous laugh as he steps up beside you both

“Please don’t stop the compliments now" you joke waving your hand dramatically, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

To your mild surprise Bojan chuckles, the sound deep and unrestrained. “She’s funny" he says, his eyes briefly scanning you with amusement. “I like her.”

Rafe nods "That makes two of us"

Bojan clears his throat, glancing around. “So I have a proposition for you"

“We’re listening"

Bojan flashes a smile his gold tooth gleaming in the soft light. “What if we make a deal?” He leans forward exuding confidence. “I’ve always been a fan of art…”

Got you.

“…and I feel it isn’t appreciated enough these days. I’m sure you, Jane, agree" He gestures toward you and you nod, playing your part perfectly. “I want to buy the pieces you offered Harris. I’ll pay double for them. And if Drew can find me a luxurious condo or an art gallery that would be a perfect fit…”

You pinch Rafe’s hand lightly, sending a subtle signal- we’ve got him now.

Bojan continues his tone taking on an almost syrupy sweetness. “I’ve always loved helping people, especially kids.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens at the words his impulse to punch Bojan rising, but he swallows it down, knowing the game they’re playing.

Bojan leans back his expression taking on a hint of sincerity, though it’s all fake. “So when I buy your pieces- and I’ll sell them of course seventy percent of the proceeds will go to charity. A charity for kids in need" He says it with such heartfelt conviction, it’s clear he’s trying to sell you on the idea that his intentions are pure.

Bojan leans forward, his voice full of excitement. “Think about it"

You turn to Rafe your expression softening. “Hm, what do you think baby?” you ask

Rafe pauses for a moment pretending to weigh the offer, then looks back at you his voice dripping with uncertainty. “I mean it is a pretty good deal, right?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You nod slowly, playing along. “I’d say so" you reply your voice carrying just the right amount of thoughtfulness. “I mean, the money goes to charity, for kids.”

Bojan beams clearly pleased that he’s got you both where he wants you. “Yes yes" he nods eagerly, feeding into the idea.

You add with a touch of sympathy "So why not? We’re helping kids after all.” You let the words linger as though the sheer goodness of the idea is enough to seal the deal.

“So that’s a yes then" Rafe laughs. He claps Bojan’s hand firmly the sound of their palms connecting sharp in the quiet of the room. Bojan’s pleased expression widens, clearly thinking he’s won you over.

You’d love to celebrate, but you have workd to do. As you pretend to be caught off guard, you purposefully spill your drink onto your dress letting out an exaggerated gasp.

“Oh my god" you exclaim, quickly pulling away from Rafe as if mortified. “Got a little too excited there.”

The croatian laughs clearly enjoying the scene while Rafe lets out a low chuckle. “I mean, we are making a pretty great deal" Bojan says with a grin shrugging as if it’s only natural. “Excitement should be through the roof right?”

You let out a dramatic pout, already stepping away from the group. “I’ll let you men continue celebrating and talking more" you say with a light chuckle, “I need to go dry this off somehow.”

As you start to move you catch sight of Andrea and quickly make your way over to her. Grabbing her arm you feign frustration. “Where’s the bathroom? I accidentally spilled some drink on myself, and I don’t want this dress to smell or get ruined.”

Andrea gives you a sympathetic look. “Oh of course, Missy.” She turns to call for a maid who immediately appears by her side. “Sweetie can you take her to my bathroom? We’re renovating the guest bathroom, sorry you have to use mine.”

You don't have to be sorry for that Andrea

You smile graciously shaking your head. “Oh

don’t worry at all Andrea. I won’t be long.” You gesture for the maid to lead the way. “Lead the way Missy.”

Rafe smiles as you walk away his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turns back to Bojan. “You really did a number on this island" he says his tone light but laced with a hint of sarcasm. “I’ve never been here before, so I can’t compare it to how it was, but if I had to guess… it must’ve been a complete dump.”

Bojan laughs slapping Rafe on the shoulder with a hearty chuckle. “It was all dirt" he admits, the amusement evident in his voice.

Rafe grins as he gives a playful shrug. “I can imagine.”

“So the contract" Rafe says. “I’m leaving soon, got meetings back home. When should we sign it? Tomorrow?”

Bojan groans rubbing his temple. “Tomorrow’s packed with meetings. You know what? The day after tomorrow, I’m hosting a gala for another charity. Why don’t you and Jane come? It’ll be the perfect time to discuss everything.”

Rafe’s expression remains cool, but inside his heart races. This was it, the moment you two had been waiting for. Bojan had finally extended the invite. You both played your parts flawlessly, pretending to be just another successful rich couple, all while getting closer to him. The mission was moving forward exactly as planned.

He leaned forward slightly his eyes narrowing as he made sure his response sounded just the right amount of enthusiastic. “Oh really?” his tone masking the thrill that pulsed through him. “That sounds great. Yeah we’ll be there.”

Internally, Rafe grinned. You just made the biggest mistake of your life, Bojan

Bojan chuckles, a deep, contented laugh, patting his belly with pride. “Good. It’ll be a night to remember”

Bojan’s thick accent cut through the air, his voice sharp with irritation. “Where is that idiot- Karlo?” He called out, a hint of impatience in his tone. “Karlo come here.”

Rafe didn’t expect the bulky man to march right next to them, looming over the group like an unwelcome shadow. The same man they’d crossed paths with before, someone who already was suspicious of them. The moment his eyes locked onto Rafe his expression darkened.

He didn't fucking need this too

“Yes… sir"

Bojan waved a dismissive hand toward Rafe, oblivious to the tension radiating from his bodyguard. “Give Mr. Starkey here our invite. He and his wife will be joining us.”

Rafe met Karlo’s eyes, briefly acknowledging the unspoken challenge in the man’s stare. He didn’t flinch. It’s just a matter of time, Rafe thought, Before he figures out more than he should.

“Of course… sir" Karlo muttered his eyes still fixed on Rafe as he pulled the invite from his pocket, handing it over with a deliberate slowness.

The paper was thick, smart considering digital invites could easily be intercepted or hacked. Rafe nodded, appreciating their cautiousness.

“Thank you" Rafe said tucking the invite into his pocket but he didn’t expect Karlo to walk away just yet. The silence between them stretched longer than he expected and then Karlo spoke, as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Could you find the meat you wanted?”

Fuck you

“Yeah we went to a restaurant. Happy wife, happy life" he replied with a chuckle trying to play it off.

Bojan raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “What meat? You two have met?”

Karlo turned slowly. “Yeah they came around the butcher shop. They wanted lamb meat. For his pregnant wife.”

“Pregnant? You didn’t tell us Starkey" Bojan says with a smile clearly amused.

Rafe chuckles giving a small shrug as if he's shy about the announcement. “It’s still early didn’t want to spread the word just yet… but yeah, she’s pregnant.”

Bojan clinks his glass against Rafe’s with a grin. “Congratulations.” His eyes narrow slightly, curious. “But wait- wasn’t she drinking alcohol?”

Rafe’s stomach tightens for a split second, but he keeps his composure, laughing it off. He gestures toward the lemonade on the table. “No, no. It was lemonade. Careful Bojan, I don’t want my child to turn out an alcoholic.”

“Isn’t he funny- oh come on Karlo laugh a little" Bojan urges with a grin though his smile quickly fades when Karlo remains stone-faced. “Always so grumpy… I keep telling him he needs to get laid.”

Rafe smirks a mischievous glint in his eye. “Suggestion? Katherine might be a good match for him.”

Bojan’s expression shifts instantly from amusement to disbelief. “Who’s- god not her.” He chuckles shaking his head. “I wouldn’t wish her on my worst enemy.”

Rafe forces a smile. At least he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. Now all he could do was hope you had what you needed. You’d been gone far too long, and it is eating him out alive

“Goddamn stupid safe,” you mutter, frustration creeping into your voice as you fumble with the lock. Fifteen minutes had passed, and still nothing. Normally, you were skilled with these things, but this safe? This was a whole new level.

When you first entered Diego’s room, you’d started your search immediately, but nothing. It was like he’d cleaned up in anticipation. But then, you noticed the door leading to his office, and by some stroke of luck, it was left ajar.

You went through his drawers, but found nothing of interest. No laptop, no files, nothing that could help. But then your eyes landed on it: the safe.

You had to get in. And fast.

“Come on" you whisper under your breath, fingers trembling slightly as you dial in the third digit. “Just one more… fuck yes.”

The soft cling of the lock is music to your ears, the best sound you’ve heard all week. A rush of triumph surges through you, but it’s fleeting. As soon as you open the safe your smile falters.

It’s packed to the brim with cash.

“Idiot" you mutter your irritation bubbling up. Why the hell is he wasting my time on this? You notice the safe’s interior is far smaller than it appears from the outside. So no time to waste, your hands move swiftly pulling out stacks of bills and discarding them one by one.

Then your eyes catch something, a small handle hidden beneath the money. A smirk curls on your lips. You’re not that smart Mr. Gomez.

You grab the handle and open the surface with a quiet click the small compartment revealing its contents: files and a phone.

Sitting down you grab the phone first and connect it to yours sending a quick message to Pope. You don’t even wait for his confirmation. It’s a waste of time. You set the phone aside, turning your attention to the files stacked in front of you.

The first one is a contract. You recognize the terms instantly, women for sale bought and paid for like property. It doesn’t shock you anymore, but the cold truth still tightens your chest. It’s just another transaction, another group of lives lost to men like Bojan. You put the file down with a tight breath, your hands steady but your mind racing.

You move to the next file flipping it open. It’s a list of names, and underneath the grim labels of organs being harvested. You take it in, your stomach a little tight, but you don’t flinch.

The photographs are worse though. The women in them are barely recognizable, their faces obscured, their bodies marked with numbers. Your jaw tightens the anger you’ve learned to hide simmering just below the surface. You don’t let it control you not here not now.

You pause for a moment taking a breath. You don’t need to process it all, this is the reality of the job. You’ve seen worse. You will see worse. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t get under your skin. It just doesn’t stop you. You’ve come too far for that.

Without a second thought, you stand up and make your way to the printer. You power it on, your fingers moving swiftly as you place the contract in position and hit PRINT.

“Come on" you mutter under your breath, tapping your foot impatiently as the machine begins its work. Once the first page begins to feed through, you grab the next file and then another, sending them through one by one.

As the printer hums in the background, you reach into your bag and pull out a small bug. You slip it discreetly under the desk then move to the lamp carefully placing the second one behind it. This will do.

You grab your phone from the ground, remove the cable from his phone. Rafes message caught your eye

“Where are you?”

You exhale sharply. Not now Rafe.

The last sheet of paper comes through the printer, and you waste no time. You snatch the original files, Diego’s phone and stuff them back into the compartment shutting it quickly. Without hesitation you grab the cash shoving it back in as well.

Then you hear footsteps.

You freeze muscles tensing as the sound grows closer, nearing the office. Your heart starts to race, but you push it down. Slowly you reach for your gun feeling its weight in your hand as you silently click the safety off. The door creaks open and you’re on your feet in an instant, gun aimed directly at the person.

“Put the gun down" it was Rafe. You roll your eyes, frustration bubbling to the surface, but you do as he says sliding the gun back into your bag with a dismissive huff.

“What are you doing here?” you snap

“You were taking too damn long" Rafe snaps back he steps closer his eyes flicking down to the money scattered on the floor.

“Be a good boy and put the money back in the safe" you smirk. “I’ll grab the files.”

Rafe exhales sharply, irritated but compliant, and crouches down to handle the cash as you reach for the printed files. With a quick motion, you slip them under your short dress, tucking them discreetly into your bra, making sure they’re hidden securely.

“The bulky man from the butcher shop" Rafe says, his voice low as he closes the case. You hum in response.

“He’s Bojan’s guard" Rafe adds his tone a bit more serious.

You groan, frustration creeping up your spine. “Why is that guy everywhere?”

Rafe’s expression darkens. “And he fucking told Bojan that you’re 'pregnant'. He mentioned the butcher shop, everything.” His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and your eyes widen in disbelief.

“What- did he get suspicious?”

Rafe shakes his head his jaw tight. “At first, yeah. But I threw him off.” He pauses, eyes scanning the room, still on edge. “For now at least.”

“But" the blonde man grins, pulling a card from his pocket "we got this.”

You blink realizing it’s not just any card, it’s an invitation.

You gasp, disbelief clear in your voice. “You’re joking right?”

Rafe shakes his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “No angel. We really got invited.”

You really should stop and think before acting, but in that moment, all you can do is run into his arms, jumping into him with pure excitement.

“Fuck yes!” you exclaim

Rafe’s deep laugh vibrates through his chest as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body presses against you, and your heart races as the reality of the situation sets in.

“Alright we can celebrate later" he says, his voice low and steady. “But right now, we need to move.” Gently he sets you down, his hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

He grabs your hand without hesitation, pulling you toward the door. The urgency in his grip sets your heart racing as you step out of Diego’s bedroom and into the hallway.

The air feels tense heavy, like it’s waiting to explode. You turn left but the sharp echo of footsteps freezes you in place heavy, deliberate, and closing in fast.

Rafe exhales sharply his jaw clenching. There’s no mistaking that sound. The steady animalistic rhythm belongs to Karlo. Even earlier when Rafe left to find you, Karlo’s hawk-like gaze had never wavered from him.

Without warning Rafe stops in his tracks, turning to face you. His expression is unreadable, calm but laced with something raw something desperate. “Sorry- not really sorry"

“What?” you whisper your pulse hammering in your ears.

“Kiss me back"

“Kiss you—”

You don’t get the chance to finish. His hand cups the side of your face, and then his lips crash onto yours. The kiss isn’t rough, though—there’s a surprising softness to it, a deliberate slowness that steals your breath.

His lips are warm, impossibly soft, and they move against yours with a confidence that makes you forget, for one maddening second, where you are or why this is happening.

Heat blooms in your chest spreading through you in a way that makes your knees weak. And then the realization hits you like a punch, you like this. Too much.

You curse yourself silently, caught between the intensity of the moment and the sheer absurdity of it. Why didn’t you do this sooner? Why does it feel so damn right when everything else is so wrong?

But you give in, the tension in your body melting as your hands find their way to his neck. Slowly, deliberately, you pull him closer, your fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Your lips respond to his meeting him with an intensity that surprises even you.

And Rafe? He loses himself completely.

The kiss is slow. Exactly how he likes it unhurried, yet charged with emotion. It’s everything he didn’t realize he needed, and more than he ever dared to hope for.

He could've walked off with some excuse about needing to use the bathroom, even if it might have raised suspicion. He could’ve handled it, found another way.

But none of that mattered. Not when his mind had been screaming at him to do this to kiss you.

Because from the moment you stepped onto the cruise with him, he’d wanted nothing else. Now, with the taste of your lips, sweet with a hint of something intoxicating- he knows there’s no going back. You’ve wrecked him with one kiss, and as much as he likes being in control, he realizes he’s never been more undone.

Then it stops. The moment shatters as someone clears their throat once, then again louder this time.

Your eyes flutter open and Rafe pulls back slowly, the spell between you broken. His lips are smudged with red the evidence of your kiss impossible to ignore.

Rafe’s gaze flickers toward the croatian man, he has a scowl etched across his face. You, still catching your breath, find yourself staring at Rafe’s side profile for a moment before shifting your attention to the man again.

“Sorry man-

The man’s sneer deepens. “What are you two doing here?”

Your lips press into a thin line fighting the urge to laugh “Sorry" you say, feeling embarrassed. “Things… got out of control. I went to the bathroom, and he came looking for me, and then, well this happened.” You gesture vaguely between you and Rafe.

Rafe nods, his expression sheepish as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah sorry about that" he adds offering a small, apologetic smile

The man’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t press further, his expression suggesting he’s more annoyed than suspicious. You can only hope he buys it.

“The guests are leaving" Karlo says slowly,

“Got it. We’ll be heading out too" Rafe replies

You don’t waste a second. Sliding your hand into Rafe’s, you squeeze it firmly as if to ground both of you then flash Karlo a polite smile. “Thanks for letting us know" you say lightly

Karlo’s gaze hardens his eyes narrowing slightly, but he doesn’t stop you as you lead Rafe away. You wave over your shoulder a quick dismissive gesture. “Goodnight"

Once you’re out of his sight, the tension in your chest unravels in a sharp exhale. Your steps falter but you don't release Rafe’s hand. “That was way too close" you mutter

Rafe doesn’t reply only giving a brief nod, his jaw tight as he follows your lead. His mind, however is far from the present moment. It’s still tangled up in the kiss the way your lips moved against his, the way you felt pressed so close.

He steals a glance at you, his throat tightening. He can still taste the faint sweetness of your lips and it’s doing nothing to help the situation brewing below. Shifting uncomfortably, he shoves his hands into his pockets silently praying you don’t notice the very real problem he’s trying to manage.

You usually had no problem handling awkward situations. Most of the time, you couldn’t care less.

But not this time.

You sat across from Rafe at the small table, watching him sift through the files with a stony expression. The silence between you was heavier than usual, stretched taut like a rubber band about to snap.

He hadn’t said a word, not when you left Andreas house, not during the tense walk back to the house, not even when you handed him the files. His focus was razor-sharp, his brow furrowed as he scanned each page.

It wasn’t hard to see the shift in his demeanor as he read. The more he took in, the angrier he became. His jaw clenched, his grip on the papers tightening as if he might tear them in half.

You couldn’t blame him. You’d seen the same things he was seeing now, and the vile details were enough to churn anyone’s stomach. Still the tension in the air made your chest tighten. You weren’t sure if his silence was directed at the files or at you. Or at both

The kiss… Did he hate it? Did he regret it?

The thought wormed its way into your mind, and the more you dwelled on it, the hotter your frustration burned. You hated feeling this way uncertain, second guessing yourself. And worst of all, you hated the idea that he might be silently judging you for something he initiated.

Fine, if he hated it that was his problem. You sure as hell weren’t going to lose sleep over it, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

Then Rafe stood up abruptly the movement snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. Your jaw tightened as you watched him.

Without a word he yanked off his T-shirt and tossed it onto the couch. He couldn’t be near you right now, not with the memory of the kiss still burning in his mind, not with the way he wanted to close the gap again. If he stayed, he knew he’d lose control. And as much as he wanted to kiss you again, he couldn’t let that happen.

So in a show of restraint he could barely muster, he walked to the bathroom instead. Grabbing his toothbrush, he squeezed a generous amount of toothpaste onto it and started brushing his teeth. The repetitive motion was grounding, a distraction from the chaotic thoughts clawing at him.

But, of course, you being you, you walked right into the bathroom without hesitation.

Rafe didn’t even glance your way at first, though he could feel your presence like a spark in the air. He knew exactly what you were doing—pushing him testing his limits. You weren’t the type to brush your teeth without first taking off your makeup, doing your skincare routine, and changing into your pajamas.

He bit back a smirk the corners of his mouth twitching despite himself. You sly little vixen.

The bathroom was steeped in silence, save for the rhythmic sound of brushes scraping against teeth and the steady flow of water from the faucet.

Rafe bent forward spitting into the sink. He straightened sparing you a glance as you stepped closer mirroring his movements. Leaning down you spit into the sink as well.

You rinse your toothbrush slowly, the silence between you two thickening almost unbearable. Then just to test him, you stretch your arm making sure to brush your hand lightly against his chest as you place your brush on the other side.

But instead of leaning in or teasing you like he usually would, he steps back. His movement is subtle but it’s enough to create a noticeable distance between you.

You freeze for a second irritation flickering through you. He never backed off, never. Usually he’d stay close, just enough to push your buttons, to get under your skin but this? This felt different, and it pissed you off more than you cared to admit.

You turn to him, your voice cuts through the stillness, a mix of confusion and annoyance. “Okay what’s your problem?”

Rafe looks at you, his eyes unreadable for the first time tonight. His lips press together for a moment before he finally responds. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? You’ve been ignoring me-"

Rafe cuts you off with a frustrated huff. “I have not.”

“Yes have. Don’t lie.” You can feel your irritation rising with every word. “Ever since we left the house, you’ve been shutting me out. You didn’t even look at me. I told you about the files, nothing. I handed you the files and asked you something, silence. And now, you’re backing away from me like you can’t even be near me?”

Rafe sighs his gaze shifting to meet yours. He sees the anger in your eyes, and for a moment, he understands.

“I’m just tired, angel” he groans, turning to leave, but you step in front of the door, blocking his way.

“Lying again" you snap in disbelief “You’re not tired Rafe. Lie to whoever you want, but don’t think I’ll buy it.”

Before he can say anything, you press on, your words coming faster, more forceful.

“If you didn’t want to kiss me, why’d you do it in the first place? Or if you regret it, just be a man and say it. Don’t keep acting like a damn child—”

He cuts you off then, his hands gripping your face with surprising force, pulling you toward him. Before you can react, his lips crash against yours, silencing everything.

This kiss isn’t slow or soft like the last one it’s hungry, urgent. The kind of kiss that tells you there’s more beneath the surface. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer his fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes like he’s trying to fuse you into him.

You pull away just slightly, enough to catch your breath, your pulse racing in your ears. He meets your gaze, his lips curling into a low quiet chuckle. “If I regretted the kiss angel” he says, his voice husky, a hint of amusement threading through "I wouldn’t be doing this.”

The words settle in your chest and without another thought, you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him back to you. The tension you’d felt moments before evaporates in an instant, replaced by an overwhelming need to feel him, to erase the distance.

His hands respond without thought, one hand sliding up your back, the other tightening around your waist pulling you closer, impossibly closer. You can feel his heart racing just like yours the heat of his body pressing into you, and the intensity of the kiss deepens. His lips move against yours with need

Without breaking the rhythm, he moves, guiding you toward the bedroom, his grip never wavering. Every step he takes is deliberate, every movement a promise of more.

He pats your leg a subtle signal, and without a word you understand. In a heartbeat you’re in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he holds you effortlessly, the kiss still searing between you.

Without breaking it, he moves toward the bedroom, his grip never wavering. He slowly lowers you onto the bed, his lips never leaving yours. His mouth trails along your jaw, down your neck, his kisses soft yet intense leaving a trail of fire in their wake. A soft moan escapes your lips, as you arch into him, your fingers curling into his buzzcut, nails grazing his scalp in response to the pleasure.

Every touch, every kiss heightening the tension between you, making it impossible to think about anything other than the heat building with each passing second.

In the next few minutes, everything becomes a blur. One moment you’re kissing him, and the next you find yourself straddling Rafe, your dress forgotten on the floor.

You’re perched on his lap, his body leaning back against the headboard his breath ragged. His hands are everywhere, one gripping your ass pulling you closer, while the other moves higher, trailing along your side before resting at the clasp of your bra.

The soft beep cuts through the airalmost unnoticed at first, lost in the haze of the moment. But just as Rafe’s hand moves to unclasp your bra, a sudden, sharp realization hits you.

Someone’s coming.

You pull away from the kiss, your head snapping toward the table where the files are scattered open.

Rafe groans in frustration, his hands gripping your face as he tries to pull you back, but you slap his hand away, urgency replacing any trace of desire. “Someone is coming"

The bell rings

You exchange a glance, both of you instantly on high alert. You scramble to your feet, your heart pounding as you rush to the table, grabbing the files in a frantic motion. Rafe stands up quickly, his body tense, moving toward the door

Rafe’s hand instinctively moves to his gun his fingers brushing the cold metal as he opens the door, ready for anything. But when he sees the redhead standing there with that infuriating smile, his annoyance spikes. She’s holding a plate in her hands, and for a moment he almost shoots her on pure reflex.

She notices him standing shirtless, and her smile falters just slightly, her gaze lingering on him a bit too long before she swallows and straightens up.

Rafe’s patience snaps. “Can I help you?” he asks, If he had known she’d be standing on the other side of the door, he wouldn’t have even bothered to open it.

He’d pulled away from you, because of her

Katherine’s eyes flicker to his lips, and her smile falters when she notices the faint trace of red lipstick smeared across them. Her expression shifts but she quickly recovers, forcing a smile as she steps forward with the plate in hand.

“Hi Drew" she says her voice faltering slightly as she holds the dessert out to him. “I… I brought you some cheesecake. You said you liked it.”

The moment you hear her voice a wave of frustration hits you so hard, you’re tempted to march out there and slam her head against the nearest wall. She’s crazy

Quickly you hide the files, your mind racing. Grabbing Drew’s shirt, you pull it on over your head, taking a steadying breath before moving toward the door.

"I'm fine" Rafe tries to close the door, you hear her voice again, persistent and annoyingly chipper.

“It’s no problem really. Take it" she insists.

You step up beside Rafe, nudging closer to him, and without missing a beat, he wraps his arm around your shoulder. You can feel the tension in his muscles, but you lean into him, offering her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Katherine hi" you say, your voice dripping with sweetness. “We didn’t expect you.”

She looks at you, her expression twitching as she tries to mask the scowl forming on her face. “Jane… hi"

You tilt your head slightly raising an eyebrow as if silently daring her to say something more. Try me bitch.

“I just wanted to give Drew-uh, you guys cheesecake"

You smile sweetly, stepping a little closer to Rafe as you speak. “That’s really sweet but we’ve got some leftover pie. We wouldn’t want to overdo it with all the sweetness" you say casually watching her smile falter and fall completely her composure cracking in an instant.

Rafe smiles at your words, a quiet chuckle escaping him as he tugs you gently, trying to pull you along with him.

But you remain still, not budging an inch. Your eyes lingering on him as you bite your lip. Once he’s gone you turn toward Katherine, your expression hardening as you close the door a little

“I know what you’re doing" you say your voice cold and unwavering. “Drop it. It won’t work.”

You hold her gaze for a moment longer, watching the frustration flash across her face. Without another word, you slam the door shut, leaving Katherine standing there, fuming on the other side.

You both return to what you had left behind, picking up where you were so abruptly interrupted.

Rafe had been wrong, he did in fact end up using the condoms

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goldfades · 2 months ago

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⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.1k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | based on a request -> maybe a smutty blurb for the joe series from their honeymoon 😍 night the baby was conceived

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | plot w/ NSFW under the cut, mdni! pretty soft, honeymoon fucking, we all know how it goes. unprotected sex! (oops... that's how our little accident baby was made, ig) p in v, a whole lotta praise, maybe a little too much foreplay, dry humping? SO MUCH EFFING KISSING IT'S ACTUALLY INSANE,

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 began with sunlight slipping through the white linen curtains of their beachfront villa, casting warm, golden streaks across the bed. The sound of gentle waves crashing against the shore replaced the usual hum of alarm clocks and city noise. It was peaceful, a slow and languid awakening to the soft melody of Barbados.

You stirred first, the warm breeze from the open balcony brushing against your skin. The air smelled like salt and hibiscus, mingled with the faintest trace of sunscreen from the night before. Stretching out, your arm brushed against Joe’s chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing letting you know he was still fast asleep.

For a moment, you just watched him. His lashes rested on his cheeks, his hair an unruly mess from a restless sleep on the crisp sheets. His sun-kissed skin glowed faintly in the morning light, a preview of what the week ahead would bring. He looked peaceful, his usual intensity softened in this quiet morning moment.

Eventually, the tantalizing aroma of breakfast—sweet coconut, warm banana bread, and freshly brewed coffee—wafted into the room, urging you to move. You leaned over, pressing a kiss to Joe’s shoulder.

“Joe,” you whispered softly, your voice barely above the ocean breeze.

He groaned in response, his eyes still closed. “Five more minutes,” he muttered, pulling the sheet higher over his shoulder.

You laughed, tugging at the blanket. “If you don’t get up, I’m starting this honeymoon without you.”

His eyes cracked open at that, one brow arching lazily. “You wouldn’t dare.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you slipped out of bed, grabbing the silky robe from the back of the door and tying it loosely around your waist. The cool tile floor under your bare feet was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the Caribbean morning. Joe watched you from the bed, his lips twitching into a soft smile as you peeked out onto the balcony.

The view stole your breath. A turquoise sea stretched endlessly toward the horizon, dotted with white sailboats that glided lazily across the water. The beach was a postcard come to life: soft, white sand scattered with seashells and bordered by swaying palm trees.

“Okay, now I’m up,” Joe announced, his voice gravelly from sleep as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

Breakfast was served on the villa’s private terrace, a table set for two with fresh tropical fruits, flaky pastries, and omelets stuffed with local spices. Joe poured you a glass of orange juice, and you returned the favor by slicing up pieces of mango to share.

The morning passed in the kind of leisurely bliss you could only find on an island vacation. After breakfast, you walked down to the beach, your fingers intertwined as the sun climbed higher into the sky. The sand was warm beneath your feet, and the occasional cool splash of the ocean sent shivers up your spine.

Joe insisted on carrying you over a shallow tidepool when you hesitated, laughing at your squeal as the water splashed higher than you expected. “Can’t have you chickening out now,” he teased, setting you down just as the next wave brushed against your calves.

By midday, you found yourselves sprawled out on two lounge chairs under a palm tree. Joe had traded his usual serious demeanor for something more relaxed, leaning back with a contented sigh as you read aloud from a cheesy romance novel you’d brought along. His teasing interruptions—“People actually say that?!”—had you both laughing until your cheeks hurt.

As the day unfolded, everything seemed perfect in its simplicity. The quiet moments between you, the way Joe’s hand lingered on your back when you walked past, or the way he absentmindedly kissed your forehead when you handed him a drink—it was all the kind of effortless love you’d dreamed of.

┈┈┈

The soft hum of the ceiling fan swirled with the salt-tinged breeze that swept through the villa, carrying with it the promise of a balmy Barbados night. Outside, the waves lapped lazily against the shore, their rhythmic song mingling with the distant chirping of tree frogs. The day had melted into evening seamlessly, the sky now painted in inky blues and dotted with stars.

You stood on the balcony, wrapped in one of Joe’s oversized button-ups, the hem brushing mid-thigh as you leaned against the railing. The ocean stretched endlessly before you, a dark expanse glimmering under the moonlight. Behind you, Joe emerged from the shower, his steps quiet on the cool tiles.

“You always steal my shirts,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Without turning, you smirked. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, his arms slipped around your waist from behind, his damp skin cool against your back as he pulled you close. His hands splayed over your stomach, his thumbs brushing small, deliberate circles against the fabric.

“You looked good out there today,” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

Your breath hitched at the soft intimacy of it. “You mean when I almost face-planted in the tidepool?”

Joe chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Even then. You make clumsiness look cute.”

You tilted your head to glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

His grin was boyish, disarming. “Depends. Did it work?”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him anyway, your body softening under his touch. His hands didn’t stop their exploration, sliding along your sides, his fingers brushing the edges of bare skin where the shirt didn’t quite meet your thighs.

“Joey,” you started, your voice dipping slightly as you tried to maintain composure.

“Hmm?” His lips found your neck, his movements slow and deliberate.

“You’re being distracting.”

“That’s kind of the point.” His words were muffled against your skin, but the grin in his voice was unmistakable.

He turned you around, his hands settling on your hips as he pressed you gently against the railing. His gaze was heavy-lidded, the playful glint in his blue eyes softened by something deeper, something intimate. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re beautiful,” he said simply, the teasing gone now. His thumb brushed your cheek as if committing the moment to memory.

The vulnerability in his voice made your breath catch. You reached up, cupping his jaw, your thumb tracing the curve of his cheekbone. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar. “You’re terrible at taking compliments.”

“Maybe you’re just too good at giving them.”

Joe’s hands tightened on your hips, tugging you closer. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smirk. “Oh? Just ‘like’ me?”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, his lips met yours, slow and unhurried, as though you had all the time in the world. His kiss was soft, yet his hands were firm, grounding you as they slipped under the hem of the shirt, warm against your skin.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, he rested his chin on the top of your head, holding you close. “For the record,” he murmured, “I more than like you.”

You tilted your head back to look at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “I would hope so. You did marry me.”

His laughter rumbled through his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again. This time, the kiss was different—more hurried, more insistent. Before you could catch your breath or process the shift in his mood, Joe’s arms slid under your thighs, lifting you with ease. A startled laugh escaped your lips, quickly muffled as he kissed you again, walking the two of you back into the villa without breaking contact.

“Joe!” you managed between kisses, your fingers instinctively tangling in the damp strands of his hair. “You’re going to trip.”

He smirked against your lips, his confidence unwavering. “I’m a quarterback. I don’t trip.”

You wanted to argue, but the warmth of his lips and the steady strength of his hold on you left little room for coherent thought. His stride was purposeful, his hands secure on your thighs as he carried you through the open patio doors and into the softly lit living room. The sea breeze followed, carrying the scent of salt and hibiscus, but the cool air was no match for the heat radiating between the two of you.

By the time he reached the bedroom, you were breathless, your heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the journey. He set you down carefully on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering on your waist, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for something.

“What?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joe shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Nothing. Just... you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile you tried to suppress gave you away. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I’ve got.” His voice was lower now, a teasing edge to it as he leaned in, his hands framing your face. “You gonna keep arguing, or can I kiss you again?”

Your response was immediate, pulling him down to meet you halfway. This kiss was no longer hurried but deliberate, the weight of the moment sinking in as his hands moved with purpose, sliding under the fabric of the shirt you wore.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room, and the sound of the waves outside became a distant murmur. For a while, the world shrank to just the two of you—Joe’s hands, his lips, his warmth surrounding you entirely.

The teasing was still there in the way he nipped at your bottom lip or murmured something smug when you let out a quiet gasp. But beneath it all was something deeper, something unspoken yet understood between you both.

When you finally broke apart, his forehead pressed to yours, both of you catching your breath, he grinned that boyish grin that always disarmed you. “So,” he said, his voice thick with amusement and affection, “still think I’m going to trip?”

You laughed softly, your fingers tracing idle patterns along the back of his neck. “No. But I might.”

Joe chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple before easing you back against the pillows, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something more tender. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice a promise. “I’ll catch you.”

Joe’s lips grazed yours again, soft and deliberate, the teasing smile still lingering at the corner of his mouth. His hands settled at your waist, fingers brushing the hem of the oversized shirt you’d thrown on after your shower. It was technically his, the fabric worn and loose, but he didn’t seem to mind—especially as he slowly started to lift it, his knuckles ghosting over your bare thighs.

“I think this belongs to me,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. His baby blues flicked up to meet yours, daring you to argue.

“Does it?” you challenged softly, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the warmth of his muscled skin under your palms.

Joe grinned, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours. “It does. But I’m willing to share—if you ask nicely.”

The laugh that bubbled out of you was cut short when his lips trailed along your jaw, his hands continuing their slow ascent, sending little shocks of heat through your skin. “You’re ridiculous,” you managed, though your breath hitched when his thumbs brushed the curve of your hips.

“And yet, here you are,” he teased, his voice a quiet rumble against your neck. His lips moved with deliberate slowness, leaving a trail of kisses that had you melting into his touch.

Your hands found their way into his blonde hair, tugging lightly in retaliation, which only made him chuckle. The sound vibrated against your skin, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten slightly.

“Careful,” he warned playfully, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were darker now, filled with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine. “You keep doing that, and I won’t be able to stop.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your voice steady. “Who says I want you to?”

That was all the encouragement Joe needed. His smile turned wicked, and before you could say another word, he was easing you back onto the bed, his hands bracketing your face as he kissed you again—deeper this time, less teasing, more intent.

His weight settled above you, one hand slipping beneath the shirt to trace the curve of your ribs while the other tangled in your hair. The kisses grew slower but no less consuming, each one leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent as he pulled back slightly to look at you. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his gaze softening despite the heat between you.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, though the words came out shaky, your heart racing under his touch.

Joe laughed softly, his breath warm against your lips. “Not so bad? I think I can do better than that.”

Joe’s teasing edge melted away, replaced by a deeper intensity. His lips pressed to yours with a hunger that left no room for playful quips or lingering hesitation. His hands moved with purpose, slipping under the thin fabric of the shirt as if it had always been in his way before unbuttoning it slowly, slipping it off of you, his blue eyes never leaving yours. You were only left in your bra and underwear, your whole body felt like it was on fire.

Your breath caught as his hands mapped every inch of bare skin they could find, the roughness of his palms contrasting with the softness of his touch. His fingers splayed against your waist, pulling you closer, like even the smallest gap between you was too much before he pulled you toward his crotch. You felt his bulge against your warmth, the feeling too dizzying, you just had to let out a small whimper, your head falling back into the plush pillow.

“You like that?” he murmured, the word barely audible as he leaned forward, his mouth trailed down your neck, each kiss leaving a warm flush in its wake as he began pushing his bulge against you, rougher this time.

“Joey,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as your fingers skimmed over his shoulders and down his back, feeling the taut muscle beneath.

He hummed in response, his lips finding the hollow of your throat, lingering there for a moment before moving lower. He slowly began moving his hips against your covered pussy, eliciting small noises from you. He was rock-hard, you could feel his excitement through the thin material of his gray sweats.

For a moment, he stilled, his eyes roving over you as if committing every detail to memory. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice low and thick, his words sinking into your skin like a promise.

Heat bloomed in your chest, and before you could respond, his lips found yours again, firmer, deeper, his hand sliding up your side to cup your cheek. The world outside the villa ceased to exist; all that mattered was the way his touch sent a current through you, grounding you and setting you alight all at once.

You tugged at his shirt in response, your fingers fumbling slightly in your urgency. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, before leaning back just enough to help you. The fabric joined yours on the floor, and then he was back, his skin warm against yours, every inch of contact electric.

His hands skimmed over your thighs, hooking behind your knees to draw you closer. The air felt charged, the only sounds filling the room your uneven breaths and the gentle crash of waves outside. He began rocking his hips against yours, letting out a needy groan of his own.

“Please, Joe,” you moaned, breathless and oh so wet, your hand slipping to his chest to feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

“Please, what?” He challenged, his forehead leaning to rest against yours. His lips were curved, a cocky smiling gracing his features. Yeah, he wasn't giving in so easily—even if he was rock-hard and just as needy as you.

You rolled your eyes, your chest rising and falling as your eyes found his again. His baby blues were dilated and dark, the familiar lustful gaze glazing his eyes. But somehow, there was still that warmth and love you knew he felt for you.

“Just, please fuck me.”

That was all he needed.

His lips found yours again, harder this time, more insistent, as if the words you’d exchanged weren’t enough to convey the depth of his feelings. His hands slid to your hips, pulling you closer with a quiet, desperate kind of urgency that left no space between you, his body practically trembling with restraint.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispered against your lips, his voice low, his breath hot.

You tried to reply, but your words were swallowed by the kiss that followed, deeper, more fervent. His hands roamed, fingers splayed wide as they moved over the curves of your back, memorizing every inch. There was no hesitation now, no pretense—just raw affection and the kind of vulnerability that came from letting someone see all of you, heart and soul.

He broke away only briefly, his forehead pressed to yours, his blue eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he admitted, his voice uneven, like the words cost him something.

The weight of his gaze and the sincerity in his voice sent a shiver through you. “I don’t think I’d ever want you to,” you murmured back, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently to anchor yourself.

That was all it took for his restraint to falter. His lips were back on yours, hungrier this time, his hands tightening their grip as if he was afraid you might slip away. His desperation wasn’t rushed or clumsy; it was reverent, like he was determined to make every moment count, to leave no part of you untouched by the depth of his adoration.

Finally, his hands began pulling off his sweatpants, his lips never leaving yours. He tugged them off swiftly, throwing them on the floor as he pulled away for a second, gripping your hips and pulling you impossibly closer. Joe's eyes never left yours as he slowly took off his briefs, your breath hitching. As soon as his briefs were off, his large fingers hooked on your panties and slipped them off.

His lips found yours again, moving forward slowly as he led himself toward your folds. You felt his breath hitch before he slowly pushed into you, broken moans leaving your lips. You already felt so full and he wasn't even a quarter inside yet.

You were sopping wet at that point, he could easily slip into you quickly—but he took his time, as if he was trying to memorize the way your cunt squeezed him so perfectly, how perfect you felt around his cock and how he swore your pussy was made for him. Joe was huge, that was never a secret—the whole “Big Dick Joe” hat was never really a joke.

You felt him fill you up slowly but surely, until he completely bottomed you out. Your hands were gripping his broad shoulders as your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, focusing on the feeling of Joe's cock stretching you out.

And you swore, no matter how many times you fuck—the feeling will never, ever get old.

“Oh God, yes,” you practically cried out as you squeezed his shoulders tighter, your nails digging into his warm skin. He groaned at the stinging feeling, the pleasure coursing through his body.

He let you adjust to his size as he began kissing you again, slower this time. The kiss grew more intense, trailing down your jawline and across your neck, each one carrying a weight that left you breathless. His hands remained steady on your hips as he let you adjust to his size, and yet there was an unmistakable tremor in the way his fingers pressed into your skin, like he was holding on for dear life.

Slowly, he began thrusting out of you, before crashing into you rougher. His patience was wavering, you could see it in his expression.

“Harder, Joe,” you moaned breathlessly as you squeezed his shoulder harder, gazing up at him through your lashes.

That was all he needed. Joe began rocking into you, the bed moving along with each of his hard thrusts. His hands gripped your thighs before lifting your legs onto his shoulders, your hands falling back on the bed as he began fucking you even deeper. The new angle made you cry out in utter pleasure, gripping the sheets as he groaned at the feeling of your walls tightening around him.

“Say you’re mine,” he murmured against the hollow of your throat as he leaned in, his voice rough with need, the words barely audible over the sound of the bed creaking beneath the two of you.

“I’m yours,” you answered without hesitation, your voice trembling but sure. The words seemed to undo him further, a shiver running through his frame as his hips began moving at an almost impossible speed, his forehead dropping against your shoulder.

“You don’t know what that does to me,” he whispered breathlessly, his breath hot against your skin. His hands gripped your hips firmly as if to ground himself, but his lips never stopped their journey—brushing along your collarbone, lingering where he could feel the rapid beat of your pulse.

His kisses became softer for a moment, almost trembling with the intensity of what he was trying to say without words. The movements of his hips were a perfect blend of desperation and purpose—like every thrust, every kiss, was a vow, a promise of just how much you meant to him.

But the desperation was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to bubble over again.

You felt that familiar tightening in your lower stomach, and your walls tightened around his cock. He was close, too—you could feel it in the way his hips rocked against yours, harder and more frantic than the last and the way he let out his groans freely.

Time seemed to dissolve, measured only by the gentle rhythm of the waves outside and the warmth of Joe’s touch. Every movement between you was deliberate, filled with a perfect mix of care and roughness that made the world outside feel irrelevant.

His hands never strayed far, always returning to cradle your face or trace patterns along your thighs as though grounding himself in the moment.

And right as you were about to go over the edge, Joe’s hand slipped to yours, his fingers threading through yours in a gesture so tender it brought an ache to your chest. The knot in your stomach snapped violently, your orgasm hitting you like a truck, rippling through you harshly.

You cried out loudly in pleasure, the sound echoing in the empty villa. A few more frantic thrusts and Joe was spilling into you, his groans heavenly and loud. You both caught your breathes, slow and heavy all at once. The villa was quiet except for the shared sounds of your breathing, the ocean breeze filtered in through the slightly open windows, cool and refreshing against the heat you shared, carrying the faint scent of salt and hibiscus.

After a moment, his lips brushed your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if memorizing you was his life’s work.

“You okay?” he murmured again, his voice softer now, almost reverent, his forehead pressed lightly against yours.

“Yes,” you replied, breathless but certain, your hand slipping to his chest to feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Perfect, actually.”

The night stretched on in a haze of soft laughter, quiet reassurances, and the feeling of being utterly cherished. By the time you lay tangled together beneath the linen sheets, exhaustion pulled at your limbs, but your heart was light. Joe’s arm was slung protectively around your waist, his breath warm against your shoulder.

“Love you,” he murmured, the words slurred with sleep but no less sincere.

You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of his hand. “I love you, too.”

The moonlight poured through the open window, silver light painting your intertwined forms as the waves provided a lullaby. With Joe’s steady presence beside you, you felt more at peace than ever—like the rest of the world could wait, because here, in this moment, you had everything you could ever need.

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