#sip that water its the good shit
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bitchkay · 4 months ago
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Walking arround an art festival downtown in the middle of the night both drunk and high as shit was lowkey fun
Wouldn't recommend tho
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4kadhd · 7 months ago
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I saw your tags on the post abt water and it reminded me of another favorite artist of mine on here, Bamsara, they drank nothing but sodas and energy drinks ruined their kidney in the process and now they vouch for drinking water and are open about what happened with them.
That's why I try to push for ppl to drink water even if they hate the taste (try out different filters) or for some reason can't stand it.
I always think of that post that reassures ppl "Hey its OK if you can't drink water as long as you get some hydration from other stuff you're good" tea and coffee will dehydrate you so damn quick those are not good alternatives and other sugared drinks will just ruin your teeth and make your kidneys have to work harder to filter shit out.
Water also flushes the bad from your system and helps everything run so smoothly and the fact there are still grown ass adults that won't drink water kills me inside.
I read a post about someone that ended up not brushing their teeth because they'd always see a post going "It's okay to not do it once or twice." And it ended up compounding until they needed a couple grand to fix their mouth.
Drink some water PLEASE.
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motorsportbarbie13 · 3 months ago
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Hiiiii couldn’t help but see you do requests, could you do something where after a hard race reader placed on the podium but felt sick and Max catches her when she collapsed after getting out of the car? Maybe with the words "I can't... my legs... everything's tingling..." and him being super worried. Basically a little angsty with a fluffy end where he’s checking on her, can be established relationship or not.
OH ANON. this was so fun.
Enjoy!
Heatstroke In which, as it turns out, Max wasn't just 'Maxplaining' the difficulty of Singapore to you after all
Pairing: Max Verstappen X FerarriDriver!Reader Warnings: fainting, getting sick/weak, max being a knight in shining armor. Word count: 2.2k Masterlist
Max tried to warn you. Lando tried to warn you. Checo and Lewis had tried to warn you. Hell, the entire fucking grid had tried to warn you that Singapore was a different beast. You had thought they were just coddling you and being over dramatic, as the boys tended to be with you. It was a hazard of being the only woman on the grid, which frankly, drove you bat shit crazy because you had earned your way into the red Ferrari seat next to Charles on your own, thank you very much. You didn’t need to be coddled and you didn’t need to be warned off anything. 
But they were right. 
Singapore was a different beast. 
The heat during the day was oppressive but at night? There wasn’t any relief once the intense sun went down either. You were from Michigan though, that midwestern state being famous for its hot and sticky summers so you had thought you’d been prepared.
As you claimed into your sleek red car, lining up P3 behind Max and Lando though you knew you were in trouble before the green flag waved. The thing about sweating in the humidity like this is that there’s no where for the moisture on your skin to go, the air already too heavy so that slick sweat sticks to you, making you even hotter than before. 
“Fuck, this is going to be brutal.” You mumble, hoping that the braid you tied your hair in would stay for the entirety of the race. Suddenly, shaving your hair into a pixie cut like Fred had been suggesting (mostly jokingly) for weeks seemed like a good idea.  
The formation lap is fine. 
The first ten laps are fine, if not a little squirrely thanks to your car being wildly loose. 
The first fifteen laps are fine, if not a bit hot. 
But on lap 23? All hell breaks loose. 
First, your hydration system fails and you’re completely unable to get any water through the tiny straw that you usually flip into your mouth on the straightaway, just like Danny taught you. You’re sweating up a storm with no way to replenish those valuable electrolytes. 
Then, you’re so busy focusing on the fact that you’d give your first born child for a sip of water you nearly slam into the same exact wall that took George out on the last lap of last year’s race. You yank the steering wheel around so hard, you feel something in your wrist pop. The searing pain causes you to over correct and you nearly drive right into your own fucking teammate. 
“Fuck. Tell Charlie I’m sorry.” You groan over the radio, telling your engineer to pass on the message to Charles. 
“Focus on your race.” Your engineer tells you, voice obviously strained just as yours is. “Charles is fine.” 
Well, I sure as fuck am not fine. You think as you fight the car down towards the starting line. 
On lap 45, you’re granted a reprieve when a Sauber goes into the wall, bringing out a yellow flag. The leaders all duck into the pits, including yourself. There’s nothing anyone can do about your water situation and at this point, your instincts have kicked it. 
Max was right and you knew it. Singapore was hell. He had tried to tell you last night, as you had been snuggled up in bed with him, a ritual that you both had become dependent on this season. It seemed cliche, you falling for one of your rivals. You hated it but there was no denying that there was a magnetic chemistry between the two of you that had started the moment you had met last year while you were still driving in F2. 
You had resisted his charm for a while but things had taken a turn the night it was announced you’d be driving for Ferrari alongside Charles. Several of the drivers that lived in Monaco full time insisted on taking you to Jimmy Z’s to celebrate and who were you to say no to a bunch of handsome men paying for your drinks? 
The night ended just as you might expect it: Max drunkenly confessing his year-long crush on you and you drunkenly kissing him in a dark alleyway as you waited for your Uber. What had started off as a drunken confession and your reckless response that wasn’t supposed to mean anything had turned into one of the greatest things that has ever happened to you. Max and you? The pair of you were endgame. 
But none of that mattered now. Not here, in the raging heat and humidity of Singapore. You knew that Max was going to give you shit for not being better prepared the moment you got out of the car. You knew you were in for an ‘I told you so’ lecture on the plane ride back in the morning. You knew Max was right and you had been stupid to underestimate the power this track had over drivers. 
Looking back on your first race in Singapore years later, you don’t quite know how you managed to finish those last laps. Pure determination and stubbornness, Max would insist later on that night. But before you’re able to fully wrap your head around how dangerous of a situation you’d gotten yourself into, the checkered flag is waving and you’ve crossed the finish line in P3, right behind Lando and Max. 
Your third podium of the year. If you had been more coherent, you probably would have been elated. But all you could think about as you pulled your car into parc ferme, right behind that little cardboard 3 sign, was the ice bath you knew was waiting for you somewhere in the paddock. 
Your red racing suit is soaked through and through, you can feel it before you even get out of the car. It takes a mammoth effort to pull the steering wheel out of it’s dock and for a moment, you worry you’re so weak you can’t even do that. In front of you, you see Lando pop out of the car in the P1 spot, elated to have won with a healthy margin of over 20 seconds for the second time that season. 
Max is out of the car too, albeit a bit slower than Lando. There’s a distant buzzing in your ear that sounds eerily like your engineer’s voice asking if you’re okay. But you’re completely unable to focus on anything beyond the tingling sensation in your legs. This wasn’t something you’d ever felt inside a race car in all your years of driving. Everything stung, like a million little fire ants were making a meal out of your flesh. It took every ounce of strength, of which you didn’t have much, to hoist yourself up out of the car. 
Your head swims the moment you stand up straight, and you feel your legs collapse under you. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear Max calling your name but you can’t look up, your helmet suddenly feeling like it weighs 300 pounds. 
Crouching in your car, you desperately try to pull yourself together before anyone notices you’re struggling. You didn’t want to give the media the satisfaction of pulling another ‘look, another woman who thinks she can hang with the rest of the F1 drivers.’ Like they’ve been attempting to do all season. 
Your eyes are closed but you still hear the faint call of Max’s voice somewhere off in the distance. The entire world is reduced down to a singular pin prick of light while you fight to stay conscious, the heat and humidity wrapping their ugly little fingers tightly around your throat. 
Just as you’re about to surrender to the warm quiet of the darkness that seems to be calling out to you, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, hauling you out of the car like you weigh less than a bag of potatoes. You go limp in the arms of whoever has come to your rescue, collapsing under the strain of what you just put your body though. 
“Baby, please. Look at me.” 
Somehow, your helmet has been removed and you find yourself blinking up at Max. 
When did he get here? You wonder idly, not realizing it was him that pulled you out of the car. 
Max had gone practically feral when GP told him that you’d gone nearly 3/4 of the race without water. He knew how brutal this race was, and the humidity was unusually high tonight. He had gotten out of the car fairly quickly but had panicked when he saw your helmet tipped forward, resting on the halo device and you not moving. 
You lift your head, still wondering where your helmet was and instantly found yourself staring straight into the baby blue eyes of your boyfriend. “Maxie?” You croak, throat feeling like you just dined on a three course meal of sand and gravel. 
“Hey
” He coos, bringing you closer to his chest. “There’s my girl. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” He rubs soothing circles over your back, not caring that the press is having a field day with this. 
“I can’t
” You stutter, struggling to make the words in your head sound coherent when your mouth tries to form them. “My legs
everything is tingling.” 
If you had been a bit more coherent, you would’ve seen the look of absolute panic cross Max’s face. He frantically looks around as he lifts you into his arms, one arm under your knees, the other cradling your back against his chest. He knew you were going to absolutely murder him when you come around and see the pictures. You hated being coddled and hated showing affection on the grid even more. You and Max weren’t really hiding the fact that you were together, most fans knew and it was common knowledge around the paddock but the causal fan might be surprised to find out the lore between the two of you. So this outright show of concern, affection, and panic over the state of you that Max was showing right now? It was absolutely not a common occurrence 
“Interviews are going to have to wait.” Max barks at Jensen, this weeks post-race presenter. “She needs medical attention.” 
Jensen simply nods, allowing you to pass. 
Fred and Charles intercept you half way to the tent, insisting that getting you in the ice baths will be the thing to help you the most. Max, nearly delirious with worry because while your eyes were open and you were somewhat alert, follows their instructions and takes you back behind the garage area where the ice baths had been set up. 
It’s all you can do to stand upright as Max unzips your race suit. It’s so heavy with your sweat that it practically peels off of you with no effort, gravity doing the work for Max. And then your left in just your fireproofs. If you hadn’t been in the middle of the paddock with thousands of people and cameras around, Max would have stripped you down to just your underwear, but that wasn’t an option. 
WIth Max and Charles’ help, you’re able to hoist yourself into the waiting ice bath. The shock of the frigid water jolts some awareness back into you the moment your body is submerged in the glacial water. 
“Holy fuck.” You grit out, eyes closing in pain. 
“I know
I know, schatje. But it’ll get you feeling better so much quicker than anything else. 
You nod, still not fully aware of how you got here but thankful for Max’s steadying presence beside you. He’s crouched down so he’s eye level with you as you ball yourself up to get as much heated skin under the cold water and the worry etched all over his face is enough to steal your breath. 
“Max. Holy fuck. That was
you weren’t just Maxsplaining to me last night, were you?” 
A chuckle finds its way out of his lips, despite the state of panic Max is in. “No, I was not just ‘Maxsplaining’ anything last night, silly girl.” 
“Shut up.” 
“You’ve got your fire back, I see. I think you’ll live.” Max leans in to press a kiss to the crown of your head before dropping another kiss on your temple, then your cheek, and finally his lips find their home on yours. Right where they belong. It’s not a lingering kiss, or a passionate one. No. This kiss is filled with gratitude and relief and sheer dumb realization of how much this man loves you. 
Your eyes are open more now, a few minutes in the ice bath doing your heat stroke symptoms good. It takes you a few moments to really grasp the severity of what just happened. How close you came to passing out mid-race. How it was Max that got you out of that car and was at your side before anyone else. 
All around you, the paddock is bustling to life. The scene Max created by hauling you over to Ferrari’s garages has somewhat dissipated. Only a few onlookers are stopped still, but your team remains solidly around you, faces a mask of concern. But the only person you see is Max. 
“Thank you, baby.” You murmur when he leans in for another kiss. 
“Anything for you, schatje.” He rasps, emotion clawing at his throat. “Anything.” 
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joelsrose · 23 days ago
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Tangled in Paradise: Chapter 3
my masterlist ~ previous chapters
warnings: oral f!recieving heheheh dirty talk joel is a dirty sexy bastard?! also sorry if its toooo longgg
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The next morning, you woke to an empty bed, the sheets beside you cool and undisturbed. You rolled over, squinting at your phone. 10 a.m. “Shit,” you muttered, groaning as you stretched your arms overhead.
The sound of the door opening made you sit up, the grogginess quickly melting away. Joel walked in, his hands full—one holding a drink carrier, the other a bottle of water.
He looked maddeningly good for so early in the morning. His skin was sun-kissed, his hair just slightly messy like he’d already been out and about, and that damn t-shirt, snug across his broad shoulders, did nothing to help your situation.
“Hey,” he said, flashing you that easy, devastatingly handsome smile. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah,” you replied, your voice still raspy from sleep as you rubbed your eyes. “Sorry for sleeping in.”
“Don’t apologize,” Joel said, shaking his head as he crossed the room. “We’re on vacation. You’re allowed to sleep in.”
Before you could respond, Joel sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He reached over, setting a cup on your nightstand with a soft clink.
“Iced vanilla latte,” he said, his voice warm but casual, as if this wasn’t the sweetest gesture in the world. “And water. Figured you’d need it.”
Your heart stuttered, the ache from earlier dissolving into a wave of warmth that spread through your chest. “Joel,” you murmured, reaching for the latte. The condensation cooled your fingers as you held it, and you glanced up at him. “That’s sweet—you didn’t have to.”
He shrugged, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that made your stomach flip. “Ain’t nothin’,” he said, but the way his gaze stayed on yours—steady, almost searching—betrayed the weight behind his words. “Anyway, Maria and Tommy left for a hike
 like five hours ago. Apparently, they’re tryin’ to be one of those couples.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “God, they’re ambitious.”
“Or insane,” Joel added with a smirk, leaning back farther until his weight shifted onto one arm. His eyes flicked over you, a soft intensity in them that sent a small thrill down your spine. “So, I guess it’s just you and me for a while.”
Joel’s lips curved into that slow, wicked smile, the one that always made your pulse skip. He reached out, his fingers brushing over your knee lightly before retreating just as quickly.
You arched a brow, holding his gaze as you sipped your drink again. “What’d you have in mind?”
"Well," he drawled, his tone casual but his eyes glinting with something warmer, "we could sit by the pool. You could read me one of those romance novels you’re always pretending not to like," he added, nodding toward the book resting on your side table.
Your jaw dropped in mock offense, and he laughed, leaning back as if he’d scored a point.
“Joel Miller, I do not pretend.”
“Oh, you definitely do,” he teased, his voice rich and smooth. “Let me guess—billionaire bad boy falls for the sweet, innocent girl? Sound familiar?”
You smirked, shaking your head. “Wow, somebody’s projecting.”
“Hardly,” he shot back, his grin widening. “I’m more of a ‘charming Texan sweeps her off her feet’ kinda guy.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you set your drink down. “You’re insufferable.” You bit your lip, trying not to smile too wide.
“Fine,” you relented, brushing a hand through your hair. “Pool it is. But I’m not reading to you.”
⋆đŸŒș˚.⋆êȘ†à§Ž.🐚⋆❀˖°
You bit your lip, turning toward the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. The bikini was flattering—more than flattering, really—but no matter how you adjusted the straps or smoothed the fabric over your hips, that familiar knot of self-consciousness tightened in your chest.
A soft knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts. “Hey,” Joel’s voice came through. “Can I come in, or is this a no-roommate zone right now?”
“Uh
 yeah, come in,” you called, your hands automatically tugging at the fabric one last time.
The door opened, and Joel stepped inside. He froze, just for a second, his eyes dragging up your body in a slow, deliberate sweep. His lips parted slightly, and for a moment, the cocky charm he usually carried seemed to falter. “Shit.”
“What?” you asked, your cheeks immediately heating under the intensity of his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
Joel blinked, his mouth twitching into that lopsided grin that somehow managed to be both infuriating and heart-stopping.
“Nothin’. You’re just—” He gestured vaguely with one hand, his words trailing off as his gaze dipped again, lingering on the curve of your waist. His voice dropped lower, rougher. “You’re gonna give the lifeguard a fuckin’ heart attack walkin’ around like that.”
You let out a huff of laughter, though your cheeks burned under the intensity of his gaze. It wasn’t just his words; it was the way he looked at you—like he was savoring every second of it. “Joel, stop,” you murmured, trying for exasperation, but your voice betrayed you, sounding far too soft.
He didn’t budge, didn’t even blink. If anything, his grin deepened, a slow, lazy curve that made heat curl in your stomach. His eyes shamelessly roamed over you, trailing from the slope of your shoulders to the length of your legs, before snapping back to your face. “Not my fault,” he drawled with a casual shrug, though his voice was thick. “You show up lookin’ like that, you can’t expect me not to notice.”
“You’re impossible,” you muttered, shifting awkwardly under his gaze. Turning your back to him, you pretended to adjust something on the nightstand, hoping the movement would distract from how flustered you felt.
“Hey,” Joel said softly, his voice closer now. A warm hand landed on your shoulder, his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then swept it away from the back of your neck. His touch was unhurried, intimate in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.
“What?” you murmured, your voice catching as your heart pounded in your chest.
“Don’t gotta hide from me,” he said, his tone low, the kind of voice that could coax secrets from you without even trying.
“I’m not hiding,” you mumbled, though the way you kept your gaze averted didn’t exactly help your case.
Joel’s smirk deepened, his hand lingering on your shoulder just a moment longer before he let it slide down your arm, his fingers brushing yours. “No? Could’ve fooled me,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.
You turned to face him, finally meeting his eyes, which were dark and full of something you couldn’t quite name. “I’m not,” you insisted, a little firmer this time, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.
“Alright,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “If you say so.”
Your breath hitched at the way his eyes locked on yours, dark and amused, like he was daring you to argue. Before you could muster a retort, Joel turned away, striding over to where his tote bag rested on the dresser.
“C’mon,” he called over his shoulder, the smirk still audible in his voice as he rifled through the bag. “Let’s go cause some medical emergencies.”
⋆đŸŒș˚.⋆êȘ†à§Ž.🐚⋆❀˖°
You found a quiet spot by the pool where the loungers were spaced far enough apart that it felt private, secluded.
The soft sound of the water lapping against the edge of the pool blended with the faint hum of conversation from a few sunbathers nearby. You sank back into the lounger with a sigh, adjusting your sunglasses and stretching your legs out in front of you.
“Nuh-uh,” Joel said, his voice cutting through the tranquil moment.
“What?” you asked, peeking up at him over the rim of your sunglasses.
"Did you know," he began, his tone light and teasing as he flipped the sunscreen bottle in his hand, scanning the label, "that not wearing sunscreen is one of the top causes of skin cancer? Says so right here." He tapped the back of the bottle for emphasis.
You frowned, pushing your sunglasses up into your hair. “Joel
”
Joel crouched beside you, the sun casting a golden glow over his tanned skin, making every line of his toned arms stand out as he shook the sunscreen bottle. “Sit up,” he repeated, his voice carrying that soft but undeniable authority that made you instinctively obey, even as your brow furrowed in playful annoyance.
“You’re bossy, you know that?” you muttered, adjusting yourself on the lounger.
“Someone’s gotta keep you in line,” Joel shot back, uncapping the bottle with a smirk. His gaze flickered over your shoulders, his expression softening slightly. “You got burnt yesterday. Can’t let that happen again.”
“Thanks, Mom,” you teased, though the way his eyes lingered made your chest tighten in a way that was anything but maternal.
He chuckled low, leaning in to smooth the sunscreen over your shoulders. His hands were warm, strong, and far too deliberate for your heart to stay steady. “Relax,” he said softly, his voice almost a purr as his thumbs kneaded gently into your skin. “Not my first rodeo.”
“You do this for all your roommates?” you quipped, though your voice wavered when his hands slid down the curve of your shoulder blades.
Joel paused, his lips quirking upward as he leaned just a fraction closer, his breath ghosting against your ear. “Only the ones I like.”
Your heart thudded against your ribs, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. “How kind of you,” you said instead, your tone light, though your pulse was anything but calm.
“What can I say?” Joel said, his grin turning downright wicked as he shifted to smooth sunscreen over the tops of your arms. “I’m a giver.”
The insinuation hung in the air, thick and electric. Your cheeks burned hotter than the sun, and you cursed your brain for immediately flashing back to the things he’d said last night.
“You’re quiet,” he said softly, his voice breaking through your thoughts.
“Yeah, well,” you muttered, your breath hitching slightly as his fingers grazed the nape of your neck, “not much to say when someone’s slathering you in sunscreen.”
Joel chuckled, the sound low and warm, rumbling against your back. “There,” he said, his voice lighter now.
“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, though the way Joel’s hands lingered for just a moment too long sent an undeniable thrill through you. You tried to ignore it, shifting back against the lounger to lie down, but Joel coughed.
“What now?” you asked, glancing at him over your shoulder.
He raised an eyebrow, his grin faint but mischievous. “You forgettin’ ’bout me?”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re a grown man, Joel. You can put your own sunscreen on.”
“Yeah, but I can’t reach my back, genius,” he said, giving you a look that was equal parts exasperation and amusement. “C’mon. I just hit you with a cancer fact. You really want me to get cancer?”
You groaned dramatically, sitting up. “You’re insufferable.”
Joel just chuckled, his grin widening as he said, “Good girl.”
The words hit you harder than you expected, low and rough in that way only he could pull off, and you hated the way your heart stuttered in response. Joel turned, presenting his back to you as he handed over the bottle of sunscreen.
You squeezed some into your hands, rubbing them together before pressing your palms against the broad expanse of his back. His muscles tensed immediately under your touch, the warmth of his skin making your breath catch.
You slapped the last bit of sunscreen onto his back a little harder than necessary. “There. Cancer-free.”
Joel laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest as he turned to glance over his shoulder at you. “Thanks, roomie,” he said, flashing you that crooked smile that made your stomach flip.
You shook your head at his antics before glancing around. Something caught your eye—a woman nearby sipping a colorful drink that looked particularly refreshing. Sitting up, you brushed your hair out of your face. "Hey," you said, turning to him. "I’m gonna grab a drink. Want anything? A beer?"
Joel cracked one eye open from where he was stretched out on his lounger, his expression shifting instantly from relaxed to alert. “What? No,” he said, already moving to sit up. “You stay here—I’ll go.”
“Joel,” you said, laughing softly. “I can handle walking a few steps to get a drink. I promise it’s not a Herculean task.”
He scoffed, standing and grabbing his wallet from the side table. “Not happenin’. I’m Southern. We don’t let the ladies lift a damn finger.”
You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Oh, is that right?”
“Damn right,” he said, throwing you a lopsided grin as he stood over you, the sun casting golden highlights across his face. He shifted slightly, sliding his wallet into his back pocket with practiced ease. “Now, what’ll it be’?”
You tilted your head, pretending to deliberate. “Hmm
 surprise me,” you said finally, leaning back with a smirk.
Joel raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as he bent slightly toward you. “Oh, you must really trust me now, huh?”
You shrugged, doing your best to appear nonchalant despite the way his proximity made your stomach flutter. “Guess we’ll see,” you teased.
Joel straightened, shaking his head with an amused chuckle. “Alright. Don’t move. Be back in a sec,” he said, giving you a parting wink before sauntering toward the bar.
You couldn’t help but watch him go, the way his broad shoulders shifted, the confident, easy sway of his steps.
He reached the drinks bar, leaning casually against the counter as he spoke to the bartender. After a moment, he glanced back over his shoulder, catching your eye. Joel smiled, that damn charming smile of his, and raised a hand to wave. You waved back, warmth blooming in your chest despite yourself.
And then, of course, you noticed her. The waitress — insanely beautiful, with flawless skin, a dazzling smile, and a figure that made your confidence waver in an instant. She was laughing at something Joel said, her glossy hair catching the sunlight as she leaned a little too close.
You felt your stomach twist as she placed her hand lightly on Joel’s forearm, the gesture casual but intimate. Joel didn’t pull away. Why would he? He was single, a man—of course he’d flirt back. And he did, flashing her that same charming smile he’d given you just moments ago.
You tried to shake it off, leaning back in your lounger and adjusting your sunglasses, but the ache in your chest wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t jealousy, you told yourself. Not really. Joel was free to talk to whoever he wanted, flirt with whoever he wanted.
Finally, Joel returned, two drinks in hand. He moved with that same easy confidence, the kind that felt both infuriating and magnetic, like he had no idea the effect he had on people—or maybe he did. His expression was casual, but as he got closer, you noticed the slight furrow in his brow, like he’d picked up on the shift in your mood.
“Guess which one’s yours,” he said as he settled down onto his lounger. He balanced the drinks carefully, one a beer and the other a concoction that looked like a unicorn had exploded into a glass, complete with glittery sugar on the rim.
You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “Hmm
” You pointed to the beer, a small smirk playing on your lips. “That one.”
Joel let out a loud, buzzer-like sound, shaking his head with a grin. "Wrong." He handed you the colorful drink, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment before he leaned back with his beer. "Here," he said casually.
"Thanks," you murmured, taking the drink from his hand. You hesitated for only a second before adding, "So," a playful edge creeping into your tone, "Blondie seemed pretty interested."
Joel lowered his beer slightly, turning his head to look at you through his sunglasses. You felt the weight of his attention, and it made your pulse quicken. “The waitress?” he asked, his tone unreadable, casual in a way that somehow made it worse.
“Yeah,” you said, shrugging as you adjusted your posture. You hoped you looked relaxed, but the ice rattling in the glass betrayed you. “She was all smiles and giggles. You should, uh
 go talk to her.”
The words felt heavy, wrong. You hadn’t meant to say them. Why did you always do this? Push men away, pretend you didn’t care, when every fiber of your being was screaming at you to hold on tighter?
Joel chuckled softly, a low, gravelly sound that sent a shiver down your spine. He set his beer down on the small table between you, the bottle clinking softly against the glass top. Then he pulled his sunglasses off, revealing those sharp, dark eyes that always seemed to cut straight through your defenses.
“Now why would I do that?” he asked, his voice calm but edged with something you couldn’t quite name.
You blinked, taken aback by the simplicity of his question. “Because she’s interested in you,” you said, your voice quieter now, almost unsure.
Joel tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady as he studied you, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle. The corners of his lips twitched, and he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Well,” he said, his voice softer now, “I’m not interested in her.”
Your breath caught, your heart stuttering in your chest. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and yet, the way his tone softened at the end made the words hit differently, made them linger.
“Plus,” he added, his voice lighter now, playful as his foot nudged your leg, “I’d rather sit here with you.”
The words sent a rush of heat through you, even though he delivered them casually, like it wasn’t a declaration but a simple fact. He grinned, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. The weight of his gaze made your skin feel too tight, your heart pounding in your chest.
Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You wanted to say something clever, something to break the tension that hummed between you, but your brain seemed to have short-circuited.
“So,” Joel said, breaking the silence as he reached into his bag. “You remember our bet, right?” His lopsided grin deepened as he pulled out a weathered baseball cap and placed it on his head.
His hair, sun-kissed and tousled from the day, peeked out in messy waves beneath the brim, and his lips—slightly pink from the beer and sun—curved into that easy, damnable smile that always made your heart skip.
“Yes,” you replied, leaning back in your chair as you tried to match his nonchalance. “Whoever guesses when Tommy will propose gets... what was it again?”
Joel tilted the brim of his hat, pretending to think. “The other’s social security number,” he deadpanned, his tone as casual as if he were suggesting splitting an appetizer. “Nothin’ big.”
You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you before you could stop it. Why did he have to be so damn cute and funny? It wasn’t fair.
“So,” Joel said, his voice dipping just enough to make the air feel heavier as he took another sip of his beer, “you think he’ll do it during the hike?”
You tilted your head, considering it. “Hmm,” you mused, tapping your finger against your glass. “I don’t think so. I mean, Maria will want to look good when it happens, you know? Not sweating and gross. Plus,” you added, glancing at him with a grin, “I have a feeling we’ll be there for the actual proposal. Tommy’s the kind of guy who’d want witnesses.”
Joel’s brows lifted slightly, a hint of impressed amusement in his gaze. “You make some valid points,” he admitted, his voice low and thoughtful, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if he were holding back a smirk. “I’m startin’ to worry I might lose to you.”
You tilted your head, your grin growing as you leaned just a little closer. “I have a feeling you’re not used to losing, Miller.”
Joel chuckled, leaning back in his chair, the brim of his hat tilted just enough to shade his eyes. “Not often,” he admitted, his tone light, almost like he was testing the waters. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, sharp but unreadable, before he tipped his beer bottle toward you. “Guess it’ll be good for me. Keep me humble.”
Joel leaned back now, his broad shoulders catching the sunlight in a way that made it impossible not to stare. You caught yourself looking as he pulled out his phone, scrolling for a moment, his thumb moving lazily over the screen. Then, with a sudden movement, he sat up straighter, his face lighting up as if he’d just remembered something.
“Shoot, I almost forgot,” he said, setting his phone down and turning toward his tote bag.
“What?” you asked, sitting up a little in your lounger, intrigued despite yourself.
Joel leaned over to dig into the bag, the muscles in his arms flexing as he rummaged through it. You swore he was doing it on purpose. “Got ya somethin’,” he said casually, his voice almost too casual.
You took a sip of your drink, eyeing him warily. “Should I be scared?”
“Terrified,” he replied with a smirk, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Great,” you muttered, your tone dry, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
“Alright,” he said, pulling something out of the bag and holding it behind his back. “Close your eyes.”
“Seriously, Joel?”
“C’mon now,” he coaxed, his grin widening. “Promise it’s nothin’ kinky.”
You squinted at him, unimpressed. “Wasn’t even worried about that, but now I am.”
He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a flutter through your chest. “Trust me. Just do it.”
You sighed, rolling your eyes dramatically but obliging him. “Fine. But if it’s something weird, I’m chucking it in the pool.”
“Hands out,” he instructed, and you could practically hear the sly grin in his voice.
With a sigh, you held out your hands. “Wow,” Joel teased, his tone thick with innuendo. “So obedient.”
“You’re a perv,” you shot back, laughing softly. But then something soft and light landed in your palms, and your curiosity piqued. “Can I look now?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You opened your eyes, and there it was—a Hawaiian Hello Kitty plushie, complete with a tiny grass skirt and a pink flower tucked behind its ear. The sight of it hit you like a wave, disarming and unexpectedly sweet.
“Oh my God,” you breathed, clutching the plushie. “This is so cute.”
Joel laughed, the sound warm and easy as he took a sip of his beer. “You like it? I was pickin’ up snacks for us to try later, saw it, and thought of you. You know, cute, girlie
” He shrugged casually.
“I love it,” you said, the words spilling out without hesitation. Your heart swelled as you held it closer, running your fingers over the soft fabric.
“Good,” Joel said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “Thought you might be missin’ Mimi.”
The mention of your cat made you laugh, a soft, genuine sound that eased the tension you hadn’t even realized you were carrying. “She’s gonna be so jealous when I get home with this.”
Joel shook his head, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. “Glad you like it,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost shy. For just a moment, the teasing melted away, leaving something warmer, deeper in its place. His eyes flicked down to the plushie in your hands, then back up to your face, as though he was committing this moment to memory.
“Well, now I gotta get you something,” you said, your voice lighter, trying to shake off the way his stare made your chest feel tight.
Joel leaned back in his lounger, casual and effortless, his grin slowly spreading. “I can think of a way you could pay me back,” he said, his tone laced with just enough suggestion to make your stomach flip.
“Oh, God,” you groaned, rolling your eyes even as your cheeks warmed.
Joel chuckled, his voice low and warm. “Geez roomie. Get your dirty mind outta the gutter,” he teased, his grin turning mischievous. “I meant you could try stayin’ on your side of the bed for once. You know, as payment for my generosity.” He leaned over to poke your side gently, his finger brushing against your ribs.
Your blush deepened, and you hugged the plushie closer to your chest. “Sorry about that,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t help the small, sheepish smile tugging at your lips. “I didn’t realize I was such a bed hog.”
Joel’s grin softened, his teasing easing into something gentler. “I’m jokin’,” he said, his voice dipping lower. “I like it. You’re cute when you sleep.”
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It hadn’t even been ten minutes of peaceful reading when you heard a long, exaggerated groan from the lounger beside you.
You turned your head, eyebrows raised in amusement, to find Joel sprawled out, one arm slung lazily over the back of his chair. His book was balanced precariously on his lap, his impossibly short red shorts leaving little to the imagination. “You good?” you asked, your tone half-curious, half-mocking.
“I’m fuckin’ bored,” Joel declared dramatically, tipping his head back to glare at the sky. Then he turned to you, his dark eyes locking on yours. “You’re ignorin’ me when we could be chattin’.”
You sighed, snapping your book closed with a soft thud. “What happened to reading?” you asked, gesturing toward the book he hadn’t even bothered to open.
“Got bored,” he shrugged, the motion impossibly nonchalant, as if his restlessness was your problem to fix.
“Jesus,” you muttered, leaning back in your chair. “You’re like dealing with a child.”
Joel’s grin spread slow and wicked across his face, his tone dropping into something deeper, richer. “Nothin’ childish about me, darlin’,” he drawled, the insinuation hanging thick in the air between you.
You rolled your eyes, but your chest tightened at the way his gaze lingered on you. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though the edge in your voice wasn’t nearly as sharp as you’d hoped.
Joel turned his body fully toward you now, resting his forearm on the armrest and leaning in slightly. His expression turned mischievous, his grin full of trouble. “So,” he started, his eyes flicking to your phone resting beside you, “you one of those Instagram influencers or somethin’?”
Your eyebrows shot up. “What?”
He gestured vaguely, his grin widening. “I dunno. Just got the vibe, is all. Pretty girl. Always readin’ or sippin’ iced coffee. Bet you got a ton of followers.”
You laughed, shaking your head as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m on private,” you said, leaning forward to grab your drink. “I think I’ve got, like, 300 followers. Maybe.”
Joel hummed, his grin softening into something warmer as he tilted his head. “Green flag,” he teased, his voice playful but with an undertone that made your stomach flip.
“Oh, and you?” you shot back, leaning toward him now. “You add all your Hinge matches on Instagram?”
Joel let out a laugh, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Nah,” he said, smirking. “They don’t get that luxury.”
You rolled your eyes, sipping your drink to hide your grin. “Sure.”
“C’mon,” Joel said, shifting closer, his arm draping over the back of his lounger as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Lemme follow you.”
“You wanna follow my Instagram?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He shrugged, the motion effortlessly casual. “We’re friends, right? Ain’t that what friends do?”
You smiled despite yourself. “Alright,” you said, giving him your username as he typed it in.
As you accepted @JoelMiller91's follow request, Joel sat up straighter, his attention fixed on your Instagram profile as he scrolled through it. He angled the phone so you could see the screen, his thumb moving deliberately, pausing on a photo of Mimi curled into a perfect ball.
“Damn,” he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of something warmer. “This is, like, a full-on Mimi shrine. Look at this—‘Mimi in the sun,’ ‘Mimi with a bow,’ ‘Mimi judging you.’”
You snorted, leaning over slightly to peek at the screen. “She’s very photogenic.”
He grinned, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “You got, what? Three photos of yourself on here, tops?”
“Well, Mimi’s cuter than me,” you said, shrugging as you sipped your drink.
Joel hummed, a low, thoughtful sound that made your stomach flip. “Agree to disagree,” he murmured, his eyes still scanning your feed.
Your breath caught as his gaze flicked back to you, his grin widening. “Alright,” he said suddenly, sitting up on his knees and setting his beer aside. “We gotta fix this.”
“Fix what?” you asked, watching him warily.
He gestured to your phone. “This ratio. You and Mimi. I’m takin’ some pictures of you.”
“What, now?” you asked, your voice incredulous.
“No, tonight when you’re half-asleep and grumpy. Yes, now.” Joel was already on his feet, standing in front of your lounger, phone in hand.
“Joel, I’m not exactly the ‘pose in a bikini’ type,” you muttered, squirming slightly under his intense gaze.
“Who said anything about posing?” he said, crouching slightly to adjust the angle. “Just sit up. Relax. I’ll do the work.”
You groaned, but before you could protest further, the shutter sound clicked. “Oh my God, Joel!”
“C’mon,” he teased, grinning at you over the top of the phone. “You’re gorgeous. The world deserves to see.”
You flushed, shaking your head. “I’m really bad at posing.”
“Don’t pose, then. Just
” He gestured vaguely with the phone. “Pretend to read your book.”
“Fine,” you muttered, picking up your book again and settling back against the lounger. You tried to focus on the words, but your mind was too occupied by the way Joel moved around, crouching and angling himself like some overly enthusiastic photographer.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his tone softening. “These are nice.” He stood up straight, his gaze flicking back to you, and for a moment, you swore you saw something unguarded in his expression.
You couldn’t help but blush. “Alright, are we done?”
“Not yet.” He gestured toward your drink. “Take a sip.”
You rolled your eyes, but you did as he asked, lifting the glass to your lips.
“There she is,” he said under his breath, his voice almost reverent. “Atta girl.”
You set the drink down and glared at him playfully. “Happy now?”
Joel grinned as he settled onto your lounger, the chair dipping under his weight. It was too small for one person to sit comfortably, let alone two, and the proximity sent your pulse fluttering in your throat. His thigh pressed against yours, warm and solid, as he leaned in, his phone angled toward you.
“Look at this one,” he said, his voice carrying a boyish excitement as he swiped to a photo. He tilted the screen toward you, leaning in just enough for you to catch the faint, sharp scent of his aftershave. “You look like a Victoria’s Secret model or somethin’.”
You flushed, heat prickling at the back of your neck as you pushed the phone away gently, your gaze darting toward the pool instead. “Stop,” you murmured, trying to laugh it off. “I don’t need to see.”
Joel’s brows furrowed as he turned the phone back to himself, glancing at the picture again like he couldn’t fathom what you were talking about. “You’re kidding, right?” His tone was softer now, laced with something tender and earnest.
You shook your head, still not meeting his eyes. “I’m not...,” you muttered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear in a nervous gesture.
When you eventually met his gaze, the usual mischief in his brown eyes had melted into something achingly sincere. “You’re gorgeous,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “How can’t you see that?” His brows knit together, a flicker of frustration in his expression, as if he couldn’t understand how you didn’t see it yourself.
The words settled over you, heavy and warm, and for a moment, the world around you—the sounds of splashing water, distant laughter, the hum of conversation—faded into nothing. All you could hear was the soft, steady cadence of his voice and the way it made your chest ache.
You cleared your throat, trying to dispel the tension that wrapped around you like a vice. “Alright,” you hummed, finally setting your book aside and breaking the spell. “Let’s see yours then.”
Joel froze, his expression teetering between amusement and mild panic. “Oh, hell no,” he said, quickly pulling his phone back as if to shield it from your view.
“What? That’s so unfair,” you protested, swatting his thigh playfully.
“Alright, alright,” Joel groaned, rolling his eyes before surrendering the phone with a reluctant sigh. “Here. Take it.” He passed it over, leaning back into the lounger and taking a sip of his beer, his eyes fixed on you as you started scrolling through his photos.
The first photo was a group shot at the beach—Joel and a handful of friends standing knee-deep in the water, beers in hand, all of them grinning like idiots. Joel stood off to the side, his smile easy and boyish. “Aw,” you cooed, tilting the phone toward him. “Look at you. So wholesome.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Joel muttered, waving you off. “Keep scrollin’.”
The next photo made your breath hitch. Joel, shirtless, standing beside a grill with a spatula in hand. His skin was sun-kissed, his hair slightly tousled from what must’ve been a long day outside. He wasn’t even looking at the camera, his focus instead on whatever he was cooking, but damn. You swallowed, the image burning itself into your brain.
“Jesus,” you muttered, quickly swiping to the next photo. “Do you have something against shirts, or
?”
“You complaining?” he smirked, his tone playful.
You shook your head, laughing softly as you scrolled to the next post. It was him and a woman—a beautiful woman. She was smiling brightly, leaning against him as his arm rested loosely around her shoulders. The caption read, Alright company. Your chest tightened inexplicably, and you fought to keep your expression neutral.
“This your ex?” you asked, feigning nonchalance, though your voice came out a touch too casual.
Joel leaned forward slightly, peeking at the screen before letting out a deep laugh. “My cousin,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Oh,” you said, relief washing over you far too quickly for your liking.
Joel didn’t let it go, though. His grin widened, and his dark eyes glinted with mischief. “What’s this, huh?” he teased, his voice dropping an octave. “You jealous?”
“Please,” you scoffed, trying to mask the embarrassment twisting in your chest. “As if.”
Joel tilted his head, watching you with that knowing smirk that was both infuriating and dangerously charming. “Alright,” he said, his tone light but teasing.
Joel set his phone aside, leaning back against the lounger with an easy grace, his arm wrapping lazily around your shoulders. His fingers traced absent patterns up and down your arm, sending shivers across your skin in a way that felt both casual and entirely deliberate. Then, without a word, he reached up, pulled off his baseball cap, and plopped it onto your head, ruffling your hair in the process.
“There,” he said, his lips curving into a satisfied grin as he tilted his head to admire his work. “Looks better on you.”
You huffed, reaching up to adjust the cap, but the warmth blooming in your chest betrayed your feigned annoyance. “You’re seriously cockblocking me right now,” you muttered under your breath, lifting your drink to take a sip, hoping it would hide the telltale flush creeping up your neck.
Joel’s eyebrows shot up, and then his mouth curved into a wide, teasing grin. “Me? Your fake vacation boyfriend, cock-blocking you? I’d never.”
You rolled your eyes, aiming for exasperation, but the heat on your cheeks gave you away. “Sure,” you muttered, leaning back in your seat, trying to ignore the way his eyes seemed to linger on you a moment too long.
His grin faltered, just slightly, and he glanced down at the beer in his hand, swirling the bottle idly. The teasing air around him softened, replaced by something quieter, almost contemplative.
“What?” you asked, the shift in his tone pulling your attention. You tilted your head, your gaze narrowing as you tried to read him.
Joel’s fingers tapped against the glass of his beer before he looked up at you, his eyes dark and steady. “You tryna find a boyfriend here or somethin’?” he asked, his voice low, casual—too casual.
You blinked, caught completely off guard by the question. “What?” you repeated, letting out a light laugh. “No, Joel. God, no. But even if I was
” You hesitated, fiddling with the condensation on your glass. “I don’t think anyone would dare approach me. Not with us sitting here looking like we’re
 like this.”
Joel tilted his head, his gaze unwavering. “Lovey-dovey, huh?” His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but wasn’t far off either.
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as his hand, warm and rough, drifted to your thigh. He traced slow, deliberate circles against your skin, his touch light but impossible to ignore.
“Maybe,” Joel said after a moment, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant, “maybe I don’t want anyone approachin’ you.”
You froze, your breath catching as his words hung between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his, and the way he was looking at you—soft, sincere, and a little unsure—made your chest ache.
“Joel,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he cut you off with a slight shake of his head.
“I’m serious,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your leg now, his touch grounding. “Maybe I like this. Us
 like this.”
Your chest tightened, your mind racing to keep up with the sudden shift. You furrowed your brows, forcing out a laugh to lighten the weight of his words. “You flirt too much,” you said, trying to sound teasing, though your voice wavered.
“I flirt,” he admitted, his lips curving into the faintest smile, “but this ain’t that.” He paused, his gaze locking onto yours, earnest and unguarded in a way you hadn’t seen before. “This is me bein’ honest.”
You swallowed hard, your throat tight as his words lingered between you. The weight of his gaze, the sincerity in his voice—it was too much, too raw. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the way your chest ached. “We should get back,” you murmured, brushing your hand against your thigh as if the movement might ground you. “Don’t wanna get burnt like yesterday.”
Joel’s expression flickered for a moment, something unreadable flashing across his face, but then he nodded, his lips curving into a small, almost reluctant smile. “Yeah,” he said, his voice soft, easy, but it carried an undercurrent you couldn’t quite place. “Let’s go.”
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Dinner was, as always, lively and full of laughter. Maria and Tommy regaled you with tales of their hike, Maria’s animated hand gestures making you chuckle as she recounted, with dramatic flair, how “Tommy slipped and almost died.”
Even with Joel’s quiet confession from earlier still echoing in your mind, the two of you fell into the same easy rhythm as always. If anything had shifted between you, neither of you let it show. Joel teased Maria about exaggerating, you joined in, and Tommy feigned indignation, his grin betraying him.
The living room had become your little sanctuary after dinner, where everyone gathered to wind down. The warm glow of the lamp bathed the space in soft amber light, casting flickering shadows that made the room feel cozier. The low hum of conversation and the occasional clink of glasses filled the air, a soundtrack to these lazy, contented evenings.
A half-empty bottle of whiskey lounged on the coffee table, surrounded by an assortment of glasses and a scattered pile of peanut M&M’s that had clearly been Joel’s doing. You tugged at the hem of your silky pink pajama shorts as you made your way in, the fabric brushing softly against your thighs. Settling into the chair facing the couches, you tucked your legs beneath you, stealing a quick glance around.
“Ooh, pink,” Joel drawled, his voice pulling your attention. He leaned back on the couch, one arm slung lazily over the cushions while the other popped another M&M into his mouth. His dark eyes flicked over you, a teasing grin curling his lips. “I like that color on you.”
Your cheeks flushed instantly, the warmth rushing to your face faster than you could hide it. You glanced down for a beat, then back up, offering him a shy smile. “Thanks,” you murmured, your voice soft as you adjusted your position, tucking your legs a little tighter beneath you.
Joel’s grin widened, but he didn’t push further, though the playful glint in his eyes lingered, making your heart race just a little faster than you’d like to admit.
Maria, seated next to Tommy on the other side of the couch, suddenly reached for the remote, pausing the movie they’d been half-watching. “Okay,” she announced, sitting up with an energy that made you suspicious. “Tonight, we’re gonna play
” She turned dramatically toward Tommy and Joel, clapping her hands together. “Drumroll, please!”
Tommy immediately leaned forward, drumming his hands against the coffee table. Joel, always the joker, slapped his thigh loudly, his grin turning into a laugh when Tommy gave him an exasperated look.
Maria threw her hands in the air. “Truth or Dare!”
You let out an audible sigh, sinking further into your chair. “Really?” you asked, your tone somewhere between amusement and dread.
“Yes, really,” Maria said, narrowing her eyes at you. “Don’t be a party pooper.”
You glanced around the room, your resolve slipping under Maria’s playful glare and the way Joel was watching you with that infuriatingly charming grin. “Alright, fine,” you said, relenting with a dramatic sigh.
“Atta girl,” Joel chimed in, his voice warm and teasing. “But why’re you sittin’ so far away? C’mon, I don’t bite.” He patted the empty space on the couch beside him.
Hesitating for just a moment, you finally stood, smoothing down your pajama shorts as you crossed the room. Joel’s gaze followed you, warm and steady, and when you lowered yourself into the seat beside him, his arm draped casually over your shoulder, the movement so seamless it felt almost automatic.
“See? That’s better,” he murmured, his voice dropping slightly as his fingers brushed lightly against your shoulder. His scent surrounded you—something clean and woodsy, mingled with the faintest hint of the beer he’d been sipping—and it made your head swim. You fought to keep your breathing steady as he leaned back, his thumb lazily tracing an idle pattern on your arm, his presence entirely too consuming.
“Alright, brother,” Joel said, his voice light with mischief. “Truth or dare?”
Tommy leaned back against the couch, his arms spread wide like he was ready for anything. “Dare,” he said confidently.
Joel laughed, the sound rich and deep, already brimming with amusement. “Alright, I dare you to
” He paused for effect, his eyes sparkling with wicked delight as he grinned at Maria. “Suck Maria’s toes.”
“Ew, Joel!” you exclaimed, nudging him in the ribs. “That’s disgusting.”
“What?” Joel said, feigning innocence as he rubbed the spot where you’d elbowed him. “It’s a dare. Ain’t my fault Tommy said he’d take one.”
Tommy, to everyone’s surprise, slid off the couch and onto the floor in front of Maria. He pointed a finger at Joel, his expression dead serious. “You think I won’t do it, Joel?”
Maria shrieked, pulling her legs up onto the couch and hiding her feet under a throw pillow. “No, Tommy! Gross! Don’t you dare!”
“C’mon, baby,” Tommy said, reaching for her ankles with exaggerated determination. “I ain’t losin’ to my brother.”
“You’re disgusting!” Maria yelled, laughing uncontrollably as she swatted at him. “Get away from me, oh my God!”
Joel was laughing so hard he nearly doubled over, his hand brushing against your knee as he steadied himself. “Oh man,” he said between breaths, “this is better than I could’ve hoped for.”
Still chuckling, Joel straightened up, his hand lingering just a moment too long before he pulled it away, leaving a phantom warmth behind. He pointed toward the tequila bottle on the table, his smirk turning mischievous. “Alright,” he said, his drawl playful and commanding. “You failed your dare. Gotta drink.”
Tommy groaned, grabbing the shot glass and downing it in one go, his face twisting in dramatic agony as he slammed the glass back onto the table. “Ugh, that’s brutal,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“Rules are rules,” Joel said with a smirk, leaning back on the couch and looking far too pleased with himself.
“Alright, wise guy,” Tommy said, poking Joel in the chest with one finger, his competitive streak clearly coming to life. “Truth or dare?”
Joel’s eyes flicked to you for a moment, a faint spark of mischief dancing in them before he leaned forward with an exaggerated air of confidence. “Dare,” he said, his voice slow and deliberate.
You let out a groan, leaning your head back against the couch. “Why do men always choose dare?” you murmured.
Joel turned his head, smirking at you. “Because, darlin’, truth’s too easy. Dares keep things interesting.”
Tommy’s grin turned downright devious as he scanned the room, his gaze settling on you like a predator locking onto its prey. “Alright,” Tommy said slowly, dragging the word out for maximum effect. “I dare you to give this lovely lady
” He pointed directly at you, his grin widening. “
a full Magic Mike lap dance.”
“What?!” you exclaimed, sitting up straight, your cheeks instantly burning. “No way. Absolutely not.”
Joel let out a low laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re somethin’ else, Tommy,” he said, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you. “But hey, a dare’s a dare.”
Your jaw dropped. “You’re not seriously going to do this.”
Joel shrugged, his grin turning slow and wicked as he stood, rolling his shoulders like he was gearing up for a performance. “What can I say? I don’t back down from a challenge—especially if it’s an excuse to take my shirt off.”
“Joel,” you said, your voice rising slightly in protest, but he was already stepping around the coffee table, his movements smooth and confident as he approached you.
“Oh, c’mon,” Maria chimed in, laughing as she nudged Tommy. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Do it, Joel!”
Joel smirked, his gaze locked onto yours now, playful and teasing but somehow disarming all at once. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “I’ll keep it PG.”
You couldn’t decide if that made things better or worse.
He stopped just in front of you, tilting his head slightly, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Alright, sweetheart,” he said, his tone low and dripping with charm. “You ready for the show of a lifetime?”
“Oh my God,” you muttered, feeling your face heat as you instinctively covered it with your hands. Joel’s laugh was low and warm, and you could feel it ripple through you, making your pulse quicken.
Tommy, of course, had found Pony on his phone, and the unmistakable opening beat filled the room. The sultry lyrics—I'm just a bachelor
—sent Maria into a fit of laughter. Joel turned his head toward you, a slow, deliberate grin spreading across his face, one that practically radiated mischief. Trouble. Before you could say a word, he leaned in, his hands bracketing your body as you instinctively sank further back into the couch.
“Don’t worry,” he drawled, his voice a warm murmur against your cheek. “I’ll be gentle.”
Your heart raced, your breath catching as you tried to process the nearness of him, the way his eyes flicked over your face like he was gauging every reaction. Before you could form a response, Joel straightened, his expression shifting to something far too smug as he stepped back and began to move.
And God, did he move.
His hips swayed to the beat, slow and deliberate, his hands running through his hair before trailing down his chest with exaggerated precision. It was ridiculous and yet
 not.
Joel had a way of commanding the space around him, making every motion seem effortless, every glance deliberate. The energy in the room shifted, a mix of laughter and something heavier—something you couldn’t ignore.
Shit, he was sexy.
Then, with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, Joel reached for the hem of his shirt. Slowly, agonizingly, he began to lift it, revealing a sliver of tanned skin and the faintest hint of muscle as he moved to the beat. Your stomach flipped as you watched, your breath hitching when he met your eyes again.
“Oh my God,” Maria wheezed, slapping Tommy’s arm. “He’s really doing it.”
Joel ignored her, his focus entirely on you.
The air between you seemed to crackle as he tugged the shirt higher, revealing more of his toned stomach, the faint trail of hair leading down from his navel making your face burn. He didn’t stop there, pulling the shirt over his head in one smooth motion and tossing it aside, his grin growing as he caught the stunned look on your face.
“Joel!” you hissed, mortified and utterly unable to look away. “This is insane.”
“Yeah?” he drawled, stepping closer, his voice rougher now, a teasing edge layered with something deeper that sent a shiver down your spine. His gaze locked onto yours, dark and smoldering, his smirk a devastating mix of cocky and alluring. “Thought you liked a little crazy, darlin’.”
You opened your mouth to respond, to throw out some quip to defuse the growing tension, but the words caught in your throat as Joel reached for your hands. His fingers wrapped around yours, warm and steady, and he guided them slowly to his chest.
Your breath hitched as he directed your hands downward, over the taut planes of his chest, across the curve of his ribs, and lower still. His muscles flexed under your fingertips, firm and defined, as he moved your hands across his abdomen with deliberate slowness. The heat of his skin radiated through his shirt, every motion purposeful, intimate.
You should pull your hands away, tell him to stop, but you couldn’t. You were utterly mesmerized, caught in the intoxicating push and pull of his presence.
Then, Joel dropped to one knee in front of you with a smooth, deliberate motion, and before you could fully process what was happening, his hand was on your knee. Gently but firmly, he pried your legs apart just enough to step closer, his movements so fluid it left you stunned.
Your instinct was to close them again, your body reacting on autopilot, but Joel’s other hand caught your knee, holding you there. “Ah, ah,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. His voice was teasing, but his grip was steady, unyielding, as he tilted his head to meet your wide-eyed stare. The music thrummed around you, its sensual beat matching the rhythm of your pulse pounding in your ears.
“Holy shit,” Tommy howled from the couch, his laughter breaking the spell for just a moment.
Joel ignored him, his attention fixed entirely on you. He reached down for his shirt, which he’d tossed on the floor earlier, and in one smooth, exaggerated motion, twirled it above his head. The playful movement drew laughter from the room, but his eyes never left yours, daring you to look away.
You didn’t.
Finally, Joel stood, his grin softening as he stepped back and ran a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He turned to Tommy and Maria, throwing his arms out dramatically. “There,” he said, his voice light but tinged with satisfaction. “That good enough for ya?” as he tugged his shirt back on
Tommy doubled over, his laughter echoing through the room. “Hell yeah! That was worth it.”
Maria was practically in tears, clutching her side as she tried to catch her breath. “Oh my God, Joel! That was
 I don’t even have words. If all else fails, you could always be a stripper.”
“What’d ya think?” Joel asked, stretching out on the opposite side of the couch. His long legs sprawled lazily in front of him, one arm draped casually across the backrest.
You blinked, your heart still racing from the impromptu performance he’d just put on. “Yeah,” you stammered, barely managing to meet his gaze. “You’re
 good at that.”
Joel chuckled, the sound rich and deep, his grin widening into something wickedly self-assured. “Must’ve done somethin’ right if I got you sweatin’ like a sinner in church,” he teased, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.
Your cheeks burned, and you cleared your throat, looking anywhere but at him.
His grin deepened, downright devilish now, as his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers drummed idly against his thigh before he leaned forward slightly, pointing at you with a playful edge that felt like a challenge.
“Alright,” he drawled, his voice low, honeyed, and full of trouble. “Truth or dare, roomie?”
You sighed, already regretting your life choices. Both options seemed like traps in Joel’s hands, but you had to play along. “Fine,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “Truth.”
Joel’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming like a cat toying with a mouse. “Truth, huh? Guess I’ve gotta make it worth your while.”
“Joel
” you warned, narrowing your eyes at him, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you rubbed your hands against your shorts.
His smirk deepened, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he sat up and reached for his drink. “What’s your favorite sex position?” he asked, his voice smooth as silk, as if he’d just asked you the weather.
Your breath caught in your throat, and you almost choked on air. “What?!” you sputtered, your eyes wide as heat surged to your face.
Maria gasped loudly, covering her mouth, while Tommy froze mid-drink, his eyes darting between you and Joel.
Joel just shrugged, taking a slow sip of his beer before setting it down with deliberate ease. “What?” he said, feigning innocence, though the playful tilt of his lips betrayed him. “It’s a valid question. You said truth, didn’t you?”
“I—” You blinked, completely thrown off. “That’s not
 You can’t just ask that!”
“Sure I can,” Joel replied smoothly, leaning back again and stretching an arm across the back of the couch. His gaze never wavered, and the smug confidence in his expression made you want to throttle him—or possibly kiss him. You weren’t sure which. “You agreed to play, roomie. Can’t back out now.”
“C’mon now,” he said softly, his voice dipping lower, more intimate. “It’s just a question. I’ll keep it between us if you’re shy.”
Your heart pounded, your brain scrambling for an answer that wouldn’t make things worse. Joel’s gaze was unrelenting, playful yet intense, his presence almost suffocating in the best way. The teasing lilt in his voice, the challenge in his eyes—it was all too much.
Finally, you folded your arms across your chest like armor and muttered, “I don’t have one.”
Joel raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’re lying,” he said simply, his voice low and sure. “I can tell.”
“I’m not,” you shot back, your voice a little too quick, a little too defensive.
Joel tilted his head, smirking as he picked up the bottle of tequila and poured a splash into a glass. He held it out toward you, his grin never wavering. “It’s called Truth or Dare—or Drink,” he said, his tone maddeningly casual. “If you’re gonna lie, you gotta drink.”
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at him as you felt the heat rising to your face. “You’re the worst.”
Joel chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I get that a lot.”
You stared at the glass for a moment, weighing your options, but you knew drinking would be as good as admitting defeat.
“Fine,” you mumbled.
Joel leaned in closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his smile softening just enough to make your pulse stutter. “Go on,” he urged, his voice low and coaxing. “No judgment here.”
You hesitated, your gaze darting to Maria and Tommy, who were both watching with barely restrained glee. Joel must have noticed because he glanced at them and smirked. “Eyes on your drinks,” he said, waving them off with a flick of his wrist. “This ain’t for y’all.”
Maria giggled, Tommy groaned, but they both obliged, turning their attention to their drinks—though you could feel their barely contained curiosity lingering in the air.
Joel turned back to you, his gaze locking onto yours, steady and unyielding. “Alright” he murmured, his voice softer now. “What’s it gonna be?”
You exhaled shakily, your cheeks blazing as you forced the word out. “Cowgirl.”
Joel blinked, his grin faltering for just a fraction of a second before it returned, slower this time, a little more dangerous. “Cowgirl, huh?” he drawled, his voice rougher now, lower. “That’s
 a solid choice.”
Your face burned hotter as you avoided Joel’s gaze, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shorts. You wished the floor would swallow you whole, wished for anything to break the tension thrumming between you. “You said no judgment,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.
“And I meant it,” Joel said quickly, his tone softening, though the teasing edge in his voice hadn’t fully disappeared. “Matter of fact
” His lips curved into a lazy grin as he leaned back, his arm draped casually across the back of the couch. “Think that’s my favorite too.”
“The question wasn’t for you, Joel,” Tommy teased, shaking his head as he pointed at him. “Why are you always tryna make it about you?”
“This is an open discussion,” Joel shot back smoothly.
You groaned, burying your face in your hands for a brief moment before peeking at him through your fingers. “What do you like about it?” he pressed, his tone dripping with playful curiosity.
“I didn’t realize there were follow-up questions,” you said, your voice dripping with exasperation, though your lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile.
Joel just raised an eyebrow, waiting, his patience maddeningly effective. You sighed, shifting in your seat under the weight of his gaze. “I don’t know,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “It
 feels good. That’s it.”
“Huh,” Joel murmured thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly as if he were considering your words like a philosopher pondering the meaning of life. “What about missionary?”
Your eyes snapped to his, wide with disbelief. “Joel!” you exclaimed, your voice high and mortified.
“What?” he said, completely unbothered, gesturing around the room. “We’re all adults, right? Just a question.”
Tommy groaned, tipping his head back against the couch. “Man, you need a hobby.”
Maria smacked Joel lightly on the arm. “No, he needs to stop.”
You couldn’t help it—you laughed, shaking your head as Joel turned back to you, his grin still firmly in place. “Well?” he asked, ignoring everyone else entirely.
You rolled your eyes but decided to play along. “It’s
 fine. With the right person, it's ... nice.”
Joel nodded as if you’d just given the most profound answer. “Fair enough,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “And doggy?”
“Okay!” Maria interrupted, throwing her hands up as she pointed at him. “You. Cold shower. Now.”
Tommy burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as Joel raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright,” he said, though the wicked grin on his face told you he wasn’t remotely sorry.
He turned to you one last time, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Guess I’ll just have to get your opinion on that one later.”
⋆đŸŒș˚.⋆êȘ†à§Ž.🐚⋆❀˖°
Joel stepped into the room, the towel slung dangerously low on his hips, water still dripping from his hair. A toothbrush hung from the corner of his mouth, and he glanced at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges in amusement.
You were sprawled out on the bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, but the moment he entered, the casual atmosphere shifted. The sight of him—damp, shirtless, and so effortlessly masculine—made your stomach flip.
He leaned against the wall for a moment, then started doing pushups against it, the muscles in his back and arms flexing with every movement. “Ninety-nine, one hundred,” he counted, his voice gruff but teasing.
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “God, you’re such a man,” you said, emphasizing the word with mock exasperation.
Joel straightened up, spitting the toothpaste into the sink as he grinned. “Sounds like a compliment to me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Put some pants on,” you muttered, trying to focus on your phone again, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.
“Sure thing,” he said, opening the drawer and pulling out a pair of boxers, which he slung casually over his shoulder like he had all the time in the world.
Then, with an infuriating smirk, he turned toward you. “Cowgirl, huh?”
Your jaw dropped, heat flooding your face. “Joel, stop.”
He shrugged, the smirk never leaving his face. “Just making conversation,” he said with a wink. “Alright, close your eyes.”
“What?” you asked, eyebrows shooting up.
“I’m changin’,” he said simply, tugging at the knot of the towel. “I’ll be naked in like three seconds.”
“Oh my God,” you groaned, slapping a hand over your eyes. “We have a bathroom for a reason.”
“Yeah,” Joel said with a laugh, “but where’s the fun in that?”
You squeezed your eyes shut, but your curiosity got the better of you.
Just a peek, you thought.
You cracked your fingers open just enough to catch a glimpse, and your breath hitched. Joel’s back was tan, the muscles rippling under smooth, sun-kissed skin as he reached into the dresser. The sharp definition of his shoulders tapered into a strong, narrow waist, the dip of his spine leading down to—
Oh. My. God.
The towel fell to the floor, revealing the most perfectly round, firm ass you’d ever seen, framed by powerful thighs that looked as though they could crush steel.
And then you saw his cock.
It hung thick and weighty, the shaft resting against his muscular thigh, even at rest. The skin was tanned like the rest of him, a darker, ruddy hue gracing the head, which was perfectly proportioned and smooth. A faint, darker vein ran along its length, drawing your attention in a way you couldn’t look away from.
The base was framed by a neat patch of dark, coarse hair, blending seamlessly with the faint trail that started at his navel. It was the kind of cock that made your stomach flip, intimidating in its sheer size and girth but undeniably captivating.
Even soft, you couldn’t help but imagine how much bigger, harder it could get, and the thought sent heat rushing through you. You clamped your eyes shut again, your cheeks burning hotter than ever, but the image was burned into your mind now, seared there like a brand you couldn’t shake.
“I’m such a perv,” you thought, your stomach twisting with a mix of embarrassment and something warmer, something far more dangerous.
“All done,” Joel said casually, snapping you out of your spiral.
“Good,” you croaked, your voice barely audible. You risked a glance as he slipped into bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He turned toward you, his gaze soft and a little too knowing, the corner of his mouth pulling into a lopsided smile.
Gosh, why was he so handsome? The soft lamplight caught the curve of his jaw, the faint flush on his cheeks, the tousled mess of damp hair falling over his forehead.
He smelled like coconut—probably from the hotel body wash—and you felt your stomach twist in ways you didn’t entirely understand.
“Before we go to sleep,” he hummed, his voice low and easy as he propped himself up on one elbow, his head resting on his hand, “truth or truth.”
You laughed, caught off guard. “Joel, I think we’ve had enough of that for one night.”
“Please,” he said, drawing out the word in a way that made it sound so much softer. “Truth or truth,” he repeated, his lips curving upward just enough to betray a hint of nerves behind his teasing tone.
You stared at him, momentarily lost in the way he looked right now—so boyish, so earnest. His pink lips were slightly swollen, his cheeks still a little red, his wet hair falling over his temple in a way that made you want to brush it back.
“Fine,” you murmured, unable to say no when he looked at you like that. “Truth.”
Joel’s grin faltered for the briefest second, the playfulness in his expression dimming as he searched your face.
“Okay,” he said slowly, his voice quieter now, like he was working up the courage. He hesitated, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before his eyes locked on yours, something unguarded and raw in his gaze. “Are you
 attracted to me?”
Your heart stuttered, your chest tightening. “What?” you breathed, your eyebrows shooting up as heat rushed to your cheeks.
He shrugged, but the movement was almost self-conscious, like he was trying to play it off even as his eyes stayed steady on you. “It’s a fair question.”
“Joel, I—what are you even talking about?” you stammered, your voice shaky as you tried to process what he’d just asked.
“C’mon,” he said softly, the teasing edge gone now. “Just
 tell me. I’m not gonna hold it against you.”
His sincerity threw you off more than the question itself. Joel Miller didn't strike you as the type of guy to be vulnerable like this—wasn’t supposed to ask questions that left your stomach flipping and your heart racing.
But here he was, waiting for an answer, his expression open, his usual confidence tempered with something quieter, something unsure.
You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding in your ears as the air between you seemed to thicken, charged with something unspoken. And for the first time, you didn’t know how to hide.
“You’re a handsome guy,” you shrugged, trying for nonchalance. But the way your voice wavered betrayed you.
Joel tilted his head, his expression unreadable, though there was something sharp, something quietly intent in the way his eyes stayed on yours. “That’s not what I asked,” he murmured, his voice soft but insistent.
Your gaze flicked to him, startled by the shift in his tone. He was watching you so carefully, so thoroughly, like he was trying to decipher every flicker of emotion across your face.
“What?” you said, your breath hitching slightly.
“I said,” he repeated, slower this time, his Southern drawl wrapping around each word like a secret, “are you attracted to me?”
Your heart slammed against your ribs, the words landing heavier than they should have. “I—” you started, then scoffed, shaking your head like it could somehow dispel the heat rushing to your cheeks. “What kind of—who even—”
Joel didn’t interrupt, didn’t move. He just kept looking at you, patient and unyielding, his gaze steady and unrelenting as if he had all the time in the world. And that was worse somehow—because it left you nowhere to hide.
You huffed, breaking under the weight of it, your voice coming out quieter than you meant. “Yeah. Fine. Yes, Joel. I’m attracted to you. Happy?”
He nodded once, the movement slow and deliberate. His eyes softened just enough to make your chest tighten, though his expression remained unreadable. “Good,” he murmured.
You bit your lip, a nervous laugh escaping before you could stop it. “What?” you asked, trying to fill the charged silence. “You needed that for your ego or something?”
Joel shook his head, his lips curving into the faintest smile, though there was something different about it this time. Something shy, almost unsure. “No,” he said quietly. “Just
 wanted to know.”
Your heart tripped over itself at the simplicity of his words, and you shifted slightly, your fingers twisting in the hem of your shirt.
The question tumbled out before you could stop it, your voice barely above a whisper. “Are you
 attracted to me?”
For a moment, Joel didn’t answer. He just stared at you, the silence stretching unbearably as something flickered across his face—something you couldn’t quite place.
“Yeah,” he said finally, the single syllable carrying enough weight to knock the air from your lungs. His voice was low, gravelly, and sure. “Yeah, I am.”
Your chest tightened as Joel leaned in slightly, his hand braced against the mattress, his movements deliberate yet hesitant. His dark eyes flicked to your lips for the briefest moment before snapping back to meet your gaze.
Joel’s voice broke the silence, low and quiet, almost like he didn’t want to scare the moment away. “Thought it was pretty obvious,” he said, his lips twitching into a soft, self-conscious smile as a quiet laugh escaped him.
The sound made your chest ache, the vulnerability in it catching you off guard. He shifted slightly, leaning back just a fraction as if he was giving you space to breathe.
“Anyways,” he murmured, his tone softening even more, “it’s late. You should get some sleep.”
You blinked, your heart still racing as the tension eased, replaced by something warmer, gentler. Joel’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, like he was trying to memorize your face, the curve of your lips, the way the moonlight painted your skin.
⋆đŸŒș˚.⋆êȘ†à§Ž.🐚⋆❀˖°
You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the room dark and still except for the soft sound of Joel’s breathing beside you. He was sound asleep, his features softened in a way that almost felt unfair.
His brow, usually furrowed with intensity or mischief, was relaxed. His lips, so often curled into a smirk that drove you crazy, now rested in a slight, peaceful curve. He looked so sweet, so angelic, nothing like the devil he became when he was awake and teasing you mercilessly.
Your eyes lingered on the way his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks, the steady rise and fall of his chest as the light sheet barely covered him. His hair was messy, slightly tousled, the curls resting against his forehead. He looked younger like this—soft, unguarded, and warm.
You sighed softly, your chest tightening as the weight of his earlier admission settled over you. The honesty in his words had left a crack in your defenses, and now, staring at him like this, you couldn’t help but wonder if he realized just how completely he’d unraveled you.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would erase the ache in your loin. You shifted under the covers, restless, your body betraying you at every turn. Joel’s antics earlier—the damn lap dance, his relentless teasing, his towel slipping, the dip of his hips, his cock. Jesus, his cock.
You pressed your thighs together, heat blooming between them as the memory of it all replayed in vivid detail. And now, lying here in the dark with him just inches away, asleep and completely unaware of the havoc he’d wreaked on your mind and body, it felt unbearable.
Needy. That’s what you were. Completely, hopelessly needy. And it was all Joel’s fault.
Padding out into the quiet living room, you sank onto the couch, curling your legs beneath you as the cool leather met your skin. The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of your phone as you scrolled aimlessly, searching for a distraction that could ease the tension winding tightly through your chest—and lower. But nothing seemed to work.
You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the soft pad of footsteps until they were right behind you.
“Hey,” Joel’s voice came, low and rough from sleep, and it made your pulse skip. You turned to see him rubbing at his eyes, his hair even messier now, sticking up in disheveled tufts that only added to his boyish charm.
He was barefoot, the hem of his sweatpants riding low on his hips, and his shirt hung lazily over one shoulder, revealing the toned expanse of his chest.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice softer now as he stepped closer, the faint rasp of sleep still clinging to it.
You swallowed, dropping your phone into your lap as you sighed. “No,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “Sorry for waking you.”
Joel shook his head, plopping down beside you on the couch with a small, tired groan. “You didn’t wake me,” he murmured, though you could tell he was lying. The slight squint of his eyes and the tousled mess of his hair gave him away.
He glanced at the clock on the wall, squinting slightly in the dim light. “It’s 1 a.m.,” he said, his lips curving into that familiar lopsided smile. “You’ve been up this whole time?”
You shrugged, pulling your legs up to your chest. “Just couldn’t fall asleep.”
Joel leaned back against the couch, studying you for a moment. His gaze, still heavy-lidded from sleep, softened as it swept over your face. “Hey,” he said after a beat, his voice lighter now, teasing as he nudged your knee with his hand. “I got an idea.”
You raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious. “Oh, no. What kind of idea?”
Joel’s grin widened, the kind of mischievous, devil-may-care smile that made your stomach flip in the worst—or maybe the best—way. “One that involves changin’ into your swimsuit,” he said, his voice low and coaxing, his Southern drawl making the suggestion sound almost innocent. Almost.
You blinked, heat rushing to your face. “Joel
”
“Come on,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand. His grin softened, something gentler lurking beneath the teasing. “Trust me. I’ll wait.”
You hesitated, glancing from his outstretched hand to his face, your heart racing for reasons you couldn’t quite name. But there was something in his expression—a quiet steadiness behind the playfulness—that made it impossible to say no.
With a small sigh, you slipped your hand into his, his palm warm and solid against yours. “This better not be one of your bad ideas,” you murmured.
Joel chuckled, tugging you gently to your feet. “Oh, it’s definitely bad,” he drawled, his grin flashing again. “But you’ll love it.”
⋆đŸŒș˚.⋆êȘ†à§Ž.🐚⋆❀˖°
Not long after, you found yourself padding down the resort’s quiet, dimly lit hallway, Joel leading the way with his hand wrapped around yours. His grip was warm and steady, entirely unnecessary but impossibly reassuring. You didn’t dare pull away. The gentle pressure of his fingers against yours sent a thrill up your arm, a sensation you tried—and utterly failed—to ignore.
Joel walked confidently ahead, his bare chest catching the faint glow of the overhead lights. His swim shorts hung low on his hips, his relaxed stride exuding an effortless confidence. Beside him, you felt the cool air against your skin, the bikini you’d hastily thrown on feeling all the more revealing in the stillness of the night.
“Joel, this is insane,” you whispered, glancing nervously over your shoulder. “We’re gonna get in trouble.”
He stopped abruptly, turning to face you with that infuriatingly cocky grin that made your stomach flip. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and warm as he tilted his head, his hair still charmingly messy. “We’re payin’—” He paused, his smirk widening as he corrected himself. “Actually, Tommy’s payin’ a shit ton of money to be here. If we wanna use the pool at 1 a.m., we’re gonna use the damn pool at 1 a.m.”
You sighed, a blend of amusement and exasperation bubbling to the surface as you reluctantly let him pull you along. “This feels like a terrible idea.”
Joel glanced back at you, his grin sharp and teasing under the dim glow of the resort lights. “The best ones always do.” His thumb brushed against your knuckles, a small, almost thoughtless gesture, but one that sent a ripple of warmth up your arm. The air was thick with the scent of salt and hibiscus, the soft rustle of palm fronds above only amplifying the quiet intimacy of the moment.
Joel pushed open the gate to the infinity pool with a soft creak, holding it open as his hand tightened briefly on yours, guiding you through before letting it close behind you with a gentle clang.
And then your breath caught.
The infinity pool stretched out before you, its surface still as glass, shimmering under the silver caress of moonlight. It was a vision of serenity and magic, the water reflecting the stars like liquid silk.
Subtle underwater lights glowed in hues of soft blue and white, their faint ripples casting dancing patterns onto the surrounding tiles.
Beyond the pool’s edge, the dark expanse of the ocean stretched into infinity, its gentle waves blending seamlessly with the star-strewn sky.
The world felt quieter here, as if the night itself had conspired to create this pocket of intimacy, a secret space carved out just for the two of you.
Joel stepped up beside you, his hand slipping from yours at last, leaving behind a fleeting chill you weren’t ready for. “See?” he said, his voice low and reverent, like he didn’t want to disturb the stillness. “Told ya it’s even better at night.”
The pool lights cast a gentle glow across the water, the soft hues of blue and silver rippling over his skin. Shadows played along the strong lines of his shoulders, the curve of his chest, and the defined cut of his back, every movement a study in quiet power.
The faint shimmer of moonlight danced against the tan of his skin, and for a moment, he looked almost otherworldly—like something pulled straight out of your imagination.
Joel took a step into the water, the muscles in his legs flexing as he descended. He turned to you, his smirk fading into something softer, more inviting. “You comin’ in, or what?” His voice was low, coaxing, with an edge of something that sent heat straight to your core.
You swallowed, the warmth rising to your cheeks undeniable as you tried—and failed—not to linger on the way the water lapped at his waist, highlighting every inch of him. “Yeah
 yeah, I’m coming,” you murmured, your voice betraying the flutter in your chest.
Joel didn’t move, just stood there in the water, his eyes fixed on you. His gaze was steady, quiet, as though he was waiting for something. The faintest curve of a smile tugged at his lips, and then he extended a hand toward you. “C’mon,” he said softly, the words like a thread pulling you closer. “Water’s perfect.”
You took his hand, his grip warm and steady as he guided you into the pool. The water lapped at your skin, cool and refreshing, sending a soft shiver through you as it rose higher. Joel’s fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary before he let go, and you floated alongside him, both drifting naturally toward the edge of the infinity pool.
Joel leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the pool. His hair, slicked back from the water, caught the faint glow of the underwater lights, droplets clinging to his tanned skin and glinting like tiny jewels.
His expression was unguarded, almost boyish, as he let out a soft sigh. “Shit,” he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of quiet sincerity. “This might be the best trip of my life.”
You turned your head toward him, his words settling warmly in your chest like a flicker of something you didn’t quite want to name. “Me too,” you admitted softly, your voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the water.
Joel glanced at you then, his gaze lingering a moment too long, his eyes searching yours as if trying to piece together the thoughts you weren’t saying.
“So,” he said finally, breaking the silence, his voice lighter now but laced with something deeper. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
The question hung in the air, far too close to the truth. Your heart stuttered as you turned your gaze back to the water, the soft glow of the pool lights casting ripples of light across your skin.
How could you possibly admit it? That Joel’s lap dance, his teasing, his cock—all of it—had left you restless, needy, and completely unable to quiet your racing thoughts.
“Not sure,” you murmured, shrugging and avoiding his eyes, your voice quieter than you intended.
Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh, come on,” he said, his voice low and teasing, yet laced with something that sent a shiver down your spine. “Usually, you’re out like a light. Somethin’s on your mind.”
Your heart raced, your defenses crumbling under the weight of his gaze. “I told you,” you muttered, forcing a casual shrug. “I just couldn’t sleep.”
Joel tilted his head, studying you like he was working out a puzzle, his grin turning downright devilish. He leaned in slightly, his elbow braced on the edge of the pool, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Shit,” he drawled, his tone equal parts teasing and dangerous. “Baby
 are you
” He paused, letting the question linger as his grin widened. “
horny?”
Your breath caught in your throat, your face heating instantly. “Joel!” you hissed, your voice a mixture of indignation and mortification as you swatted at his arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He laughed, low and rich, leaning back just enough to let you breathe but not enough to create distance. His grin was positively wicked, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “What?” he said, feigning innocence. “Just tryin’ to help. Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong.”
You bit your lip, your gaze darting to his before skittering away again, the tension coiling tighter in your chest. “You’re wrong,” you said, forcing the words out, but your voice wavered, betraying you.
Joel’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it softened slightly, turning into something warmer, more disarming. “Darlin’,” he said, his tone low and coaxing, “you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
Your eyes darted to his chest—broad and glistening under the soft glow of the pool lights—and lingered for just a second too long. When you realized what you’d done, you quickly looked away, cursing yourself internally.
He chuckled, the sound quieter now, almost fond as he shook his head. “Christ, girly,” he murmured, his voice dipping even lower. “When’s the last time you had sex?”
You groaned, looking away as your cheeks burned. “Joel, I’m not answering that.”
“Oh, you are,” he said, his grin still firmly in place. “C’mon, I’m dyin’ here.”
When you stayed quiet, Joel’s teasing softened just slightly. “Seriously,” he said, his voice more curious now, less playful. “When?”
You sighed, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Fine. Like
 eight months ago.”
Joel froze, his eyes widening as he turned to fully face you. “What?” he choked, the disbelief in his voice almost comical. “Are you serious?”
You nodded, your gaze still fixed on the ocean, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “Yeah.”
Joel ran a hand through his wet hair, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Eight months?” he repeated, his voice quieter now. “Shit, darlin’
 how have you not lost your mind?”
You let out a small laugh despite yourself, turning to look at him. “It’s not that big of a deal, Joel.”
“Right,” he said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “Because you got your little toy.”
Your face burned as you groaned, shooting him a glare. “I regret ever telling you about that.”
Joel chuckled, leaning his elbow on the pool’s edge as he turned to face you fully, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just sayin’. No shame in it,. Gotta take care of yourself somehow.”
“Joel,” you muttered, pressing your hands to your face. “Please stop.”
He held up his hands, mock surrender in his posture. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave.ïżœïżœ A pause, and then, with a tilt of his head, he added, “Seriously, though—why not?”
“Why not what?” you asked, looking at him warily.
Joel shrugged, his tone lighter but edged with genuine curiosity. “Why not just
 y’know, find someone? It’s been eight months.” His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, his voice softening. “Look at you. You could have anyone you wanted.”
You sighed, your fingers skimming the water’s surface as you avoided his gaze. “Joel, some of us can’t just have casual sex with people.”
“Hey,” he said, his voice dipping lower as his expression shifted, a flicker of something serious passing through his eyes. “What makes you think I can?”
You looked at him, surprised by the sudden change in his tone. “Well
 I just assumed.”
Joel leaned back slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line as he shook his head. “I don’t just go sleepin’ around with everyone, you know.”
Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you said quickly. “I just meant
 I don’t know. You seem like you’re more
 experienced than me.”
Joel raised an eyebrow, his grin softening into something closer to a smirk. “More experienced?” he repeated, the teasing lilt back in his voice. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”
You groaned again, burying your face in your hands. “It means exactly what it sounds like, okay? You’re Joel. You’re
 confident and flirty and
 you. I figured you’d have had more
 practice.”
He laughed, the sound low and warm, and when you peeked at him through your fingers, he was shaking his head, his grin softening even further. “just because I know how to flirt doesn’t mean I’m out here sleepin’ with every pretty face I meet.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” he said, his gaze meeting yours, steady and sincere. “Truth is, I don’t do casual either. Never really been my thing.” He shrugged, his tone lightening again as he added, “Not that I haven’t tried, but
 I guess I’m picky.”
“Picky?” you repeated, your lips twitching into a small smile.
“Yeah,” Joel said with a casual shrug, though the faint smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “When I was younger, I guess I was more
 free, you know? Didn’t think too hard about it. But now
” He trailed off, his gaze dipping briefly before locking back onto yours, a flicker of something deeper in his eyes.
“Now, I gotta have a connection with someone before I
” He smirked, his voice dropping lower as he added, “
rock their world.”
Your laugh burst out before you could stop it, a sound somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Oh, my God, Joel.”
His grin widened, and he leaned back against the pool’s edge, his arms stretching out to rest along the tiles. “What?” he said, feigning innocence. “Just tellin’ it like it is.”
You shook your head, the laugh still lingering on your lips as you looked at him. “You’re impossible.”
“Nah,” Joel said softly, his tone shifting just enough to catch you off guard. “You’ve got a nice laugh.”
Your smile faltered for a beat, your heart skipping at the sincerity in his voice. “Smooth operator,” you replied, raising an eyebrow at him, trying to keep things light.
Joel shrugged, his grin softening. “I mean it,” he said, his voice quiet but sure, his gaze steady on yours.
You bit your lip without thinking, a nervous habit you’d had forever, and Joel’s gaze flicked down to catch the motion. Something shifted in his expression, his smirk faltering just slightly as his brow furrowed, his voice a low mumble when he finally spoke. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” you asked, your voice softer now, the air between you thick with unspoken tension.
Joel shook his head slightly, his lips twitching into a faint smile, but there was something darker in his eyes, something restrained, like he was fighting an internal battle.
The moment stretched, the sound of the waves crashing below blending with the quiet hum of the night. And then—like the universe had a sense of humor—your bikini top came undone, the tie at the back slipping free.
“Shit,” you gasped, clutching the front of your top against your chest to keep it in place. Your eyes widened as you looked at Joel, your heart hammering for a whole new reason now. “Joel,” you whispered, motioning toward your back. “Can you
 can you tie me up?”
His gaze flicked to yours, his lips curving into a slow, wicked grin. “And if I didn’t?” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement.
“Joel!” you hissed, glaring at him as your cheeks burned, your grip tightening on the loose fabric against your chest. “I’m serious!”
Joel tilted his head, his smirk growing as he treaded water, the glow from the pool lights casting shadows across his face. “What?” he teased, his voice low and playful. “You never skinny dip before?”
Your jaw dropped at his audacity. “No!” you replied, your voice sharp, though the heat rushing to your cheeks made you feel anything but confident.
“Seriously?” he said, his tone shifting into something bordering on incredulous. He let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Damn, you haven’t lived, girlie.”
“Joel,” you said again, your voice dropping into something softer, more pleading, but he wasn’t backing down.
“Alright,” he said finally, his voice dipping lower, coaxing now. “Turn around.”
You hesitated, your pulse hammering in your chest, but his gaze held steady, warm yet unrelenting. With a sigh, you did as he asked, your back to him, the ocean stretching out into the night as the breeze brushed against your skin.
The sound of the water rippling around him reached your ears, and then you felt his hands—gentle, careful—as they brushed your back. His fingers worked deftly, the lightest graze of his knuckles against your bare skin making your breath hitch.
“Hold still,” Joel murmured, his voice low and intimate, the warmth of it wrapping around you. He finished tying the knot with ease, but he didn’t step back.
You stayed frozen, facing the endless horizon, when you felt it—the unmistakable weight of his hand settling lightly on your hips, his touch firm but not overbearing. His breath, warm and steady, ghosted against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Joel
” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your heart thundering in your chest.
His grip tightened slightly, grounding you as he leaned in closer, his lips so near that you could feel the faintest brush of them as he spoke. “When,” Joel murmured, his voice low and rough, “was the last time a man made you cum?”
You froze, your breath catching as the question hung in the air, the intimacy of his tone cutting through the quiet night like a blade. Your fingers dug into the edge of the pool, your mind racing as every nerve in your body seemed to ignite at once.
“Joel
” you whispered again, though this time, it wasn’t a protest. It was something softer, needier, like your voice betrayed the thoughts swirling in your head.
He didn’t move, his hand steady on your hips, his fingers pressing just enough to make you hyperaware of every place he touched you. His breath, warm and steady, ghosted over your neck, and you swore the heat of it sank into your skin, making your pulse race.
“I—” you stammered, trying to steady yourself, trying to form words despite the way your heart thundered in your chest. “I told you. Eight months ago was the last time I had sex—”
Joel cut you off, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “I didn’t ask the last time you had sex,” he murmured, his words deliberate, each one like a spark against your already frayed nerves. “I asked when the last time a man made you cum.”
Your breath faltered, your stomach flipping as the weight of his question settled between you. You felt exposed, laid bare in a way you weren’t prepared for. “I
” you started, your voice catching. “I don’t
 I don’t remember.”
Joel went still behind you, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly as his breath hitched, barely audible. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, the word low and soft, like it wasn’t meant for you to hear.
You swallowed hard, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. The truth was out there now, raw and vulnerable, and you didn’t know what to do with it. Your hands gripped the edge of the pool for balance, the cool water lapping against your skin doing nothing to calm the heat building between you.
“Eight months,” Joel murmured again, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. His hand shifted slightly, the movement subtle but enough to make your breath hitch.
You could feel him now, the unmistakable press of his body against your back, solid and warm. “And not once
” He trailed off, exhaling sharply before he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “
not once did a man know what to do with you?”
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice trembling, his name catching in your throat. It was a plea, though you couldn’t tell if it was for him to stop or to keep going. Every inch of you felt alive, your senses overloaded by the heat of his breath, the weight of his hands, the raw intensity of the moment.
Slowly, Joel turned you around, his hands guiding your movements like he was in complete control. Your gaze locked onto his, and your breath caught at the sight of him.
His hair was tousled, damp from the pool and catching faintly in the light. His eyes burned with something raw, unrelenting, and entirely consuming. He looked angelic, like a man shaped by the heavens but sent to ruin you—and you felt like you were teetering on the edge of insanity just looking at him.
His voice broke through the haze, low and quiet, but laced with an intensity that made your stomach twist. “Were you wet when you went to bed?”
Your heart stopped, your pulse roaring in your ears as his words hung between you, heavy and deliberate. “Joel
” you managed, your voice cracking as your mind scrambled to keep up. “What are you doing?”
“You heard me,” he said, his tone soft but firm, his breath brushing against your cheek as he leaned closer. His fingers lifted to your chin, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unwavering, and you felt utterly exposed under his gaze. “Answer me.”
Your breath hitched, your chest rising and falling as the truth clawed its way out of you, unbidden. “Yes,” you whispered, barely audible, but Joel caught it. “I was.”
Joel’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk, but there was something almost tender beneath it, something that made your knees weak. “That so?” he murmured, his thumb brushing along your jaw as he studied your face, his voice dipping lower, rougher. “And you didn’t think to do anything about it?”
Your cheeks burned, the heat of his words and the sheer audacity of the moment leaving you reeling. “I—” you stammered, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a response.
Joel tsked softly, shaking his head as his gaze lingered on yours. “Darlin’,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine, “what am I gonna do with you?”
The question wasn’t meant to be answered—it was a statement, a challenge, and it hung in the air between you, thick and charged. His hand stayed on your chin, his thumb brushing softly over your bottom lip, the motion feather-light but enough to make your breath catch.
Your head dropped slightly, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “We can’t, Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“Why?” he asked, his tone steady, curious rather than insistent.
You exhaled shakily, searching for the right words. “Because it’ll
 it’ll make things weird for the rest of the trip. It’ll ruin the engagement.”
Joel studied you, his thumb pausing on your lip before he let his hand drop, though his gaze never wavered. He nodded slowly, his jaw tightening as he listened. “Alright,” he said softly, his voice gentle. “I hear you.”
His words felt like a lifeline and a loss all at once. Relief mingled with a strange ache in your chest as you dared to glance at him. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of restraint and something deeper that you couldn’t quite name.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” Joel said simply, his voice low and sure, his words laced with an unspoken promise. He leaned back slightly, giving you space, though his eyes still held yours. “But
 I’ll say this much.” His lips curved into a faint, wry smile. “It’s a damn shame you’re goin’ to bed needy every night when I’m right next to ya.”
Your heart stuttered, your body betraying you as his words sent a spark of heat racing through you. You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but the weight of his gaze pinned you in place, making it impossible to ignore the truth simmering between you.
“You’re so sweet,” Joel murmured, his voice low, rough, and laced with something softer, something that made your stomach flip. His hand, still resting lightly on your chin, tilted your face back up, coaxing your eyes to meet his.
You looked at him, your breath hitching as your gaze flicked—just for a moment—to his lips. Joel’s gaze was heavy, dark, and unrelenting, and his voice came low, steady, and utterly devastating. “Did you bring it with you?” he asked.
“What?” you whispered, thrown off by the sudden question.
“Your toy,” he clarified, his eyes locked onto yours like he could see right through you.
Your cheeks burned, and you shook your head quickly. “No,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Joel nodded slowly, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. “So,” he drawled, leaning in just slightly, “you were beside me all wet and needy, huh?”
Your heart stopped, your stomach flipping as his words sank in. “Joel, this is insane,” you murmured, your voice trembling with equal parts disbelief and something darker, something you didn’t want to name.
“You already admitted it,” he said, his voice warm but laced with that maddening edge of confidence. “Didn’t you?”
“Yes,” you breathed, the word falling from your lips before you could stop it.
He nodded again, his gaze never leaving yours, his voice dropping even lower. “So
 were you gonna touch yourself?”
“What?” you asked, your eyes widening.
“Were you?” Joel repeated, his tone calm, deliberate, but the weight of his question hung in the air, crackling between you. “With me next to you, asleep? Were you gonna take care of yourself?”
You shook your head quickly, the honesty spilling out before your brain could catch up. “No,” you said, your voice soft, trembling.
Joel tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost tender, though the heat in his eyes remained. “Poor girl,” he murmured, his tone turning to a low coo that sent shivers down your spine. “No wonder you couldn’t sleep. Just need someone to take care of you, huh?”
He leaned in closer, his hand brushing against your hip as his lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile. “Wonder if I was to touch you right now
” he murmured, his voice rough and quiet, like a secret just for you. “If you’d be ready for me.”
“Joel
” It was as if it was the only word you knew, the only one you could form, and the way you said it—soft, trembling, and utterly breathless—made his expression darken further.
His hand lifted to your chin again, his thumb brushing lightly against your jaw as he whispered, “Can I?”
The question was low, rough, and full of restrained hunger, but there was a softness in his tone, a thread of care that made your chest ache. He wasn’t pushing—he was waiting. And the way he looked at you, the way his gaze held yours, made it clear that you held all the power in this moment.
Your breath hitched, your chest rising and falling as the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, the ocean, the night, and the question hanging between you like a live wire.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea. What if it
 what if it makes things weird?”
“It won’t,” he said simply, his voice low and sure, like he’d already thought through every possibility. “You’re overthinkin’ it. I just wanna help you feel good.”
“It’s not that simple,” you said, shaking your head, though even as the words left your lips, they felt weak, as though you didn’t quite believe them yourself.
“Why can’t it be?” Joel countered, his tone gentle but firm, his eyes searching yours with a steady intensity that made it impossible to look away. “Not everything has to be complicated, darlin’.”
You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering between his eyes and the curve of his lips. “We don’t have to do anything,” he added, his hand lifting to brush a damp strand of hair from your face. “But I can see it in your eyes—you don’t trust men anymore, do you?” His lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, though there was a softness in his voice that made your chest ache. “Let me help restore your faith a little.”
You let out a shaky laugh, though it came out more like a breathless exhale. “What, by making me cum?”
Joel’s smile deepened, his hand resting lightly on your waist as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a murmur. “That what you want?”
Your heart pounded as you stared at him, the heat in his gaze stealing the air from your lungs. “Didn’t you say every woman you sleep with does?” you asked, your words coming out bolder than you felt.
He nodded slowly, his eyes darkening as his thumb brushed along the curve of your hip. “You wanna put it to the test?” he asked, his voice low and rough, the challenge in his tone sending a shiver through you.
The way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—made your chest tighten, your resolve crumbling with every second. He looked delicious. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but give in.
“Fuck it,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Your hands shot up to grab his face, pulling him toward you, your lips crashing into his.
Joel didn’t hesitate. He kissed you back with a force that left you reeling, his hands immediately finding your waist as he pushed you back against the smooth edge of the infinity pool. The sound of water rushing over the edge was drowned out by the pounding of your heart as you pressed yourself against him, desperate, frantic, consumed.
His hands were rough as they slid along your sides, pulling you closer, grounding you even as everything around you seemed to spin. His lips were warm, insistent, and he tasted faintly of the tequila you’d both shared earlier. It was intoxicating, the way he devoured you, like he couldn’t get enough, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.
You gasped against his mouth as his fingers dug into your hips, his body pressing firmly against yours, his heat searing even through the cool water.
“Shit,” he murmured, his voice rough and breathless. His eyes burned into yours, dark and unrelenting. “Gotta taste you.”
The words knocked the air out of you, leaving you blinking at him in stunned silence. Before you could even process what he’d said, Joel’s hands were on you, gripping your thighs as he turned you toward the entrance of the pool. With a firm but careful tug, he lifted you, placing you on the cool stone ledge so your legs dangled over the edge, the water still lapping at your calves.
“Joel,” you breathed, your voice shaky as you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him with wide eyes.
He stood in the water, the faint glow of the pool lights illuminating the sharp lines of his face and the damp mess of his hair. His gaze never left yours as he pushed his slick hair back, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. “Lay back,” he urged, his voice low and commanding, yet soft enough to make your pulse stutter.
“What?” Your eyebrows shot up, your heart pounding as your gaze darted between him and the vast openness of the pool deck around you. “Here?!”
“Yes, here,” Joel replied without hesitation, his tone steady but edged with amusement, like he found your disbelief charming. His hands slid up your thighs, gripping them just enough to send another spark of heat through you. “Ain’t no one around, darlin’.”
“Joel,” you hissed, glancing toward the resort, your mind racing. “We’re gonna get arrested.”
He chuckled softly, his grin widening as he leaned in closer, his hands still resting on your thighs. “We won’t. Trust me,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, almost a purr. “Now, lay back.”
“Fuck,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before letting out a shaky breath and lowering yourself onto the cool stone. Your head rested against the ledge, the night sky stretching out above you, stars dotting the inky black canvas.
“Good girl,” Joel murmured, his voice softer now, almost reverent. His hands coaxed you down gently, sliding you closer to the edge until your hips hovered just above the water. “Shuffle down a bit. That’s it
 just like that.”
Your body moved instinctively, following his instructions even as your mind screamed about the sheer insanity of what was happening. The cool air brushed against your skin, making you shiver, but Joel’s hands—warm, rough, and steady—kept you grounded.
“Relax,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that somehow managed to soothe and ignite you at the same time. “I’ve got you.” Your heart pounded as you swallowed hard, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. Joel’s lips quirked into a faint, teasing grin. “All you gotta do,” he continued, his tone soft and coaxing, “is lay there and look pretty. You’re doin’ just fine.”
You sighed, a mix of nerves and anticipation, as his hands began to move. They slid slowly, deliberately, from your thighs to the thin ties of your bikini at your hips. His fingers worked with maddening precision, untying one side, then the other, the slow drag of the fabric against your skin making your breath hitch.
“Joel
” you started, your voice shaking as the last barrier slipped away, leaving you bare beneath him.
He paused, glancing up at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “Yeah, darlin’?”
“I swear to God,” you hissed, glancing toward the pool deck, “if someone sees us—”
“Shh,” he interrupted, his voice a whisper that carried more weight than it should have. His lips brushed against the inside of your thigh, a soft, deliberate kiss that made your breath catch. “Stop worrying,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “and let me take care of ya.”
Before you could respond, he hooked both of your legs over his shoulders, his hands gripping your hips to steady you. The cool night air brushed against your bare skin.
“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” Joel murmured, his voice soft but laced with his signature teasing edge. His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, the weight of it making you feel completely exposed in a way that sent heat rushing through you. “All this fussin’, but here you are, lettin’ me do this anyway.”
But then, to your surprise, he didn’t move. His hands rested firmly on your thighs, his gaze locked onto your bare cunt like he was savoring the moment, drawing it out. The pause stretched too long, and suddenly, the self-consciousness crept in. You started to close your legs, your body instinctively pulling inward.
“Don’t you dare,” Joel said sharply, his voice low but firm, and the command in it made your breath hitch.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice uncertain as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to look at him. The way his gaze burned into you made your stomach twist, the heat in his eyes almost overwhelming.
“Nothing,” Joel said, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. “I just
 shit.” His hands tightened on your thighs as he shook his head slightly, his lips twitching into a faint, crooked smile. “I wish you could see yourself, baby. Drippin’ for me.”
Your breath caught, your entire body going still at his words. He hadn’t even properly touched you yet, and the ache between your legs was unbearable. As if he could read your mind, his eyes flicked to back your core, and he chuckled low, rough, and entirely too confident.
“Christ,” he muttered, his voice roughening as he watched you clench around nothing. “Really haven’t been fucked good in a while, huh? Damn shame.”
Your lips parted, ready to scold him for the audacity, but before you could get a single word out, Joel dove in. His mouth was on you, his beard brushing against your thighs, and the sensation sent a jolt of electricity shooting through your entire body.
“Oh my God!” you shrieked, your head falling back against the cool stone as your hands flew to his hair instinctively. The mix of his rough beard and the soft, deliberate way his tongue moved against you was overwhelming, like he knew exactly how to unravel you piece by piece.
Joel hummed against you, the low vibration sending shockwaves through your body as his hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place. “Taste even better than I imagined,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and muffled, his words brimming with that maddening, casual confidence. It would’ve made you roll your eyes if you weren’t already halfway undone.
Then one of his hands moved, his thumb brushing slow, devastating circles over your clit, and you nearly screamed, your back arching as the pleasure hit you like a tidal wave.
“Baby,” Joel murmured, his voice teasing yet commanding, “you’re gonna get us caught. And then,” he added with a smirk, his lips curving against your skin, “you’re gonna break my streak.”
You gasped, your breath trembling as you gripped the stone ledge for support, every nerve in your body alight. “Joel, you’re so good
 shit,” you breathed, your voice faltering as his movements quickened, relentless and precise.
Joel didn’t answer, didn’t stop to tease. He just growled against you, the deep sound reverberating through your core as he devoured you like a starving man who’d been waiting for this moment forever. His lips, his tongue, the rough scrape of his beard—it was too much and not enough all at once.
“Joel, I’m close,” you gasped, your voice trembling as your hands scrambled for something, anything, to anchor yourself, but the smooth stone beneath you offered no reprieve. Your body was suspended in pure sensation, trembling on the edge.
“Shit, baby,” Joel muttered, pulling back for just a second to bite gently at the inside of your thigh, his teeth sending sparks of pain-tinged pleasure racing through you. “That was easy.” And then he was back, relentless and hungry.
Your breath hitched, and all you could do was gasp his name. “Oh
 oh, I’m gonna—Joel, I’m gonna cum—fuck!” The words tore from your throat as the pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling violently as waves of heat and release consumed you. Your legs clamped around his head involuntarily, your body overwhelmed as you rode the high, every nerve sparking like wildfire.
Joel didn’t let up. His tongue moved with practiced precision, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until your body was nothing but sensation. You whimpered, your hands flying to his hair, tugging desperately. “Joel,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “Stop—please, it’s too much.”
Still, his lips lingered, a soft, satisfied hum vibrating against you before he finally pulled back, but not without one last, languid stroke of his tongue that left your entire body trembling.
His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, fixed on you like you were a masterpiece he wasn’t finished admiring. Slowly, deliberately, he swiped his bottom lip with his thumb, his gaze unwavering as if he were savoring every second of your unraveling.
Then, with a tenderness that felt almost out of place after the intensity of what had just passed, he leaned back in, brushing the lightest, most deliberate kiss against your swollen, sensitive clit. Your body jolted, a shiver rippling through you that made your breath hitch audibly.
“So damn sweet,” Joel murmured, his voice low, husky, and dripping with reverence, like it was a secret only he was privileged to know.
Finally, with a satisfied hum, Joel pulled back, his lips and beard glistening as he pushed himself out of the pool and collapsed beside you on the cool stone. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he glanced over at you.
You stared at him, your vision hazy, your body still humming from the aftershocks. He looked insane—angelic, even—his hair damp and tousled, his lips swollen and wet, his grin entirely too pleased with himself.
“Shit,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper.
Joel propped himself up on one elbow, his grin widening. “How’d I do?” he asked, his tone teasing but laced with genuine pride.
You didn’t answer. Instead, you grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, your lips crashing against his as you moaned softly into his mouth, tasting yourself on him. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, lazy circles.
After a moment, you broke the kiss, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Too good.”
Joel chuckled, his grin widening as you reached for your bikini bottoms, slipping them back on as you tried to gather yourself. You opened your mouth to say something, but a sudden, blinding flashlight beam broke through the tension.
“Hey! Who’s there?” a loud voice yelled, the beam swinging toward you.
Your eyes widened in panic, but Joel just laughed, the sound low and warm as he grabbed your hand. “Shit,” he murmured, his grin turning wicked as he whispered, “Run.”
Before you could protest, Joel was pulling you to your feet, his hand tight around yours as the two of you sprinted away, your laughter bubbling out of you uncontrollably.
The heavy footsteps of the security guard pounded behind you, and Joel’s low chuckle filled your ears as he led you through the resort, ducking around corners and weaving between palm trees.
“You’re insane!” you hissed between gasps of laughter, your hand tightening in his as you glanced back at the guard, who was struggling to keep up.
“You love it!” Joel shot back, his grin wide as he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
By the time you finally collapsed behind a cluster of bushes, both of you out of breath and laughing, you couldn’t help but think that this might just be the best night of your life.
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suncoved · 1 year ago
Text
OUCH! — RAFE CAMERON
pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x clumsy!fem!reader
summary; rafe wouldn't trade his clumsy girlfriend for the world.
warnings ; bit of blood (blood nose), fluffy fluff, ooc rafe fsss
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you let out a huff to yourself as you reach your hand up to your forehead, clutching it softly and praying to yourself that you weren't sweating profusely. it was deathly hot in the outerbanks today, and your usually 5 minute walk to the cameron house had slowly turned into 15. you did not work well with heat, even after living in the obx for your entire life.
you knew if you called rafe and asked him to come get you at your house he probably would, but you wanted to have some dignity.
trying not to explode with happiness, you stepped into the doorway of the cameron house. with the ac cooling your body, you sighed in relief and made your way to the kitchen. you were always welcome at rafe's, you were there more than you were at your own house.
you heard someone yell your name behind you, whipping around to see rafe's little sister wheezie bolting towards you. "hi wheezie girl" you said as she really knocked you down from the force of her embrace. you had known wheezie since she was a baby and she loved and adored you like a big sister.
you ruffled her hair as she hugged you, though you were both quick to pull back from the heat still prevalent in your body temperature. "how'd the algebra test go?" you asked, adjusting her glasses that were now crooked on her face.
"not good, another D" she sighed, moving towards the kitchen counter as your eyes followed her movements. "its ok wheeze. you'll do better next time, i know you will." she smiled at you lovingly, before turning her eyes back to the current math question she was working on in her book.
you brought yourself to the kitchen cabinet, reaching in to pull out a glass. you loved rafes house, it was beautiful and clean and it had all your favourite things. food, blankets, a pool, an endless array of books and rafe, of course.
wait. where was rafe?
"where's your brother wheeze?" you asked, taking a sip out of your now full cup of water. "he went down to the gym with topper and kelce a bit ago, he's in one of his moods" she sighed, referring to the particularly touchy moods rafe gets in every once in a while.
which means he's extra pissed off than usual.
good.
you said goodbye to wheezie and made your way back out into the heat, walking down the steps and around the house to where the camerons gym was. you heard the loud rap music from miles away, the grunts of the boys echoing louder and louder and you got closer.
you got distracted from the damage of the hurricane on the shore of the beach outside the cameron house, your feet carrying you unconsciously towards your final destination.
you skimmed your eyes over the backyard, the pool foggy and murky, leaves and branches floating on top of the water. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh at wheezie jumping up and down with her phone in the air, trying to get wifi.
you were worried about how hard the cleaners and gardens were going to have to work to get the yard back in shape, but before you could come to feel empathetic for them, a searing pain arose on the bridge of your nose.
your eyes filled with tears as you reached your manicured hand up to your nose, the red crimson liquid staining your fingers and dripping onto your new yellow sundress.
because you weren't watching where you were going, you had run smack dab into the side of the entrance to the gym, your nose hitting the hinge that was sticking out of the wall.
you could taste the metallic substance dripping down your lips, your ears ringing from the pain. yes, you were always just a bit of a crybaby, but you had a low pain tolerance and bumping your nose hurt like shit.
you could hear the sound of weight dropping aggressively as you let out a whimper, clutching your nose in your hand. it was only seconds before heavy hands made their way onto your hips, an all too familiar strong cologne engulfing your nose, making it sting even more.
but you knew who it was, so you didn't hesitate to turn your body around and lay your head on his chest, your hand still protectively covering your nose. you couldn't help but sob at the pain, soft shushes and a hand rubbing your back comforting you softly as you wept.
rafe felt the blood stain his shirt, but he made no effort to move, kissing the top of your head softly.
it wasn't unusual for your daydreaming to lead you to injure yourself in some way. whether it was tripping over or banging into something, rafe knew your clumsiness all too well. but he hadn't seen you cry like this in pain since the 5th grade when you fell off the monkey bars and knocked your head.
along with his sets that were yet to finish, topper and kelce were now long forgotten in his mind. all he thought about was you, and the fact that you were in pain. it made him go fucking crazy.
"baby" he sighed softly as he gently pried you off his chest, pulling back to try to get a good look at your face. your hand was covered in blood, along with your lips and chin, the crimson red still dripping from your nose.
"fuck" he cursed, watching your tears flow down your cheeks in a steady stream. rafe wasn't often calm and collected, but this was a whole different level. he was freaking out.
he quickly took your hand in his, dragging you softly up to the entrance of tannyhill. the only thing he could hear was your whimpers and sobs echoing in his head, all he could think about was you.
before you knew it you were being lifted up onto the cool surface of rafes bathroom counter, the cold marble making you shiver as your dress rode up to expose your thighs. rafe quickly grabbed out multiple tissues from the box, gathering them together in his hand.
"this is going to pinch baby, i'm sorry. hold my hand yeah?" he asked — well — demanded. you felt him bring the paper up to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose softly to stop the blood flow.
he made quick work of multi-tasking as he kept the tissue on your nose, quickly cleaning the blood of your lips and chin. he didn't look you in the eyes once as the whole ten minutes he held your nose, waiting patiently before finally pulling away.
you had never been more thankful as you felt no more blood trickle down your face — and so was rafe.
he sighed as he threw the tissue in the bin, grabbing your face in his hands and holding leaning his forehead on yours. you looked into his eyes before he closed them and took a deep breath in.
"don't ever fucking do that to me again baby."
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hybridirl · 1 year ago
Text
i’ve never done this before

18 + only, please!
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ellie x f!loser!reader
a/n: so basically i was on janitor ai because i’m genuinely an addicted freak and this was inspired by a chat i had :3 im also replaying tlou2 bc i cant stop i need it i need it i need it. also i think a LOT more things make sense now, so i think you should replay after u play it.
brief summary: ellie is ur big sister’s best friend! but, unfortunately you’re dubbed an “annoying little sister,” your sister’s not home, ellie’s high when she comes over, and ur a loser nerd who can’t deal with confrontation :(. (au if it wasn’t obvious!)
tw / DUBCON?, ellie is very mean, degrading, praise, pet names, reader is a virgin, small age gap if you really squint, porn without a plot, rushed sex, scissoring (tribbling?), use of y/n i think

⋆ ËšïœĄâ‹† êȘ†à§Ž ˚
with a grunt, you pulled your pajama pants up the rest of the way. you were headed to the door after hearing seven hard knocks on the door.
“hello—“ you began, cutting yourself off when you see ellie, your sister’s best friend. “ellie?” you glanced behind her, then behind yourself. “she’s not home right now.”
“yeah, yeah,” she slurred, and your lips went into a thin line from her state, so obviously intoxicated. “she told me come ‘n wait. she’s gettin’ her shit rocked, ‘r whatever. she dropped me off ‘ya know? said you wouldn’t mind. you don’ mind, do you?”
being such a caring person had its ups and downs. you weren’t fond of ellie, and she wasn’t fond of you. she had been your biggest bully throughout the entirety of middle and high school. but, you couldn’t deny her entry. she could get hurt or worse, and you didn’t want that. or to be responsible of it.
you adjusted your glasses, eyeing her with a thoughtful look. her eyes were halflidded, red, and she smelled disgusting. she eyed you right back, her stare almost intimidating.
“no, ellie. i don’t mind,” you said begrudgingly, stepping aside to allow her in. you watched her make her way around the all-too-familiar home while you shut the door. you mentally prepared yourself for tending to her needs; you knew she’d tell if you hadn’t. you also prepared for the anger she would inevitably feel. she was an angry person when intoxicated. you leaned against the door and watched her opened the fridge.
“what do you got?” ellie asked, shutting the refrigerator and looking at you. “what’re you gonna make?”
“i don’t know,” you responded and took a glance at the stove. you hadn’t noticed what she took from the fridge, only gasping when you heard the familiar sound of a beer opening. “hey, hey, hey! that’s my dad’s!” you watched ellie shrug and give you a “so what?” look. “stop it, that’s not good for you!” you rushed over, reaching for the beer, but her rough hand kept you in place as she chugged it down. “ellie, stop! you’re already high, that’s gonna make it worse; ellie, stop!”
“and what the fuck do you know?” she asked as she slammed the beer bottle of the counter, “you stupid fuckin’ loser, what the fuck is wrong with you? i’ll do what-the-fuck-ever i want. you’re such a fucking lame-ass, you won’t even take a lil sip o’ this thing,” she stuck the beer can up to your mouth, which you turned away from, “that’s what i thought, you stupid bitch. you’re probably a virgin, too, huh? you don’t even try- nobody even tries for you. no man, no woman, no whatever. never been in a relationship, never been in fuckin’ nothing. you are such a fucking loser.”
your jaw was slack, almost looking like a fish out of water as it tried to shut and open.
“you’re too high for this,” you said slowly, still shocked at her words. you took a step back, your back pressing against the island counter.
“you don’t know the first thing about ‘too high,’ jackass. bet you never had a dick in you before. too busy studyin’ your stupid fucking books to be the good girl you are. can’t even do this because you’re always bein’ a teacher’s pet, always bein’ a goody-two-shoes, know it all, fucking bitch. probably got a few toys like the desperate freak you are. maybe a dildo? nah, you want that pussy t’stay tight, huh?” you thought it couldn’t get worse than the insults before, but this was insane. your eyes were wide, shock filling your features.
“ellie!” you gasped in horror and embarrassment, “i— i’m calling my sister!”
“you’re a fucking snitch!” she giggled, pointing at you. “she doesn’t care what the fuck i’m saying to you. she’s too busy slutting herself out to give a fuck about your pathetic ass, baby.”
“go away, ellie,” you whimpered out, eyes at the ground. you attempted to push past her, but her hands gripped your wrists. “please.”
“you’re not getting rid of me,” she growled, her beer-breath filling your nostrils, “you’re a goddamn joke. i’m not going anywhere ‘til i’m good ‘n ready. you just know i’m right.” she leaned in, her lips brushing your cheek as she whispered deep into your ear, “you just want my hands all over you, don’t you, y/n? i’ve seen how you watched me. you want a real woman’s hands on ‘ya. all of over your pretty body, hm?”
“no,” you whispered right back, your brows furrowed. this was your sister’s best friend. this was just
 wrong; you couldn’t explain it, but it wasn’t right. and she was high! she didn’t know what she was doing, what she was saying, but her touch felt so

“don’t you lie to me,” she huffed her breath hot in your ear, “you wanna get touched bad. you know you do. you want my hands slidin’ down your pretty panties and touchin’ that clit. make you cum all on my hand. you want that, don’t you?”
“ellie,” you almost moaned out at her dirty talk, your brows knitted together in conflict. your hand went to cover your mouth as her hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pjs and simultaneously your underwear.
“let it out, baby,” she told as your hand muffled a broken moan, “you’re already so, so wet for me. this pussy’s just beggin’ for my touch, huh?” her finger-pad ran across your clit and your knees buckled. she giggled in response, a lazy grin plastered on her face. “mm, ya feel that? this’s what y’ve been missin’ out on with all that nerdy bullshit you do.” her fingers slipped easily inside you, making your eyes roll with pleasure; another moan escaped your throat. “y’so tight. just like i thought.” she pulled her fingers out, quickly giving them a lick before tugging your bottoms down. “oh, baby
” she moaned at the sight, licking her lips as she took you in. “look at that pretty pussy. mhm, ‘n all f’r me, huh?” she knelt down, getting face to face with your cunt. “answer me.” she kissed at your inner thighs. all you could do was watch, trembling under her dominating touch.
you yelped, jumping in surprise as she bit your thigh harshly.
“i said answer.”
“y-yes! all for you, ‘s all for you,” you whimpered, whining as her mouth finally met with your drooling pussy. your resolve had slipped away, only thinking about that needy, touch-starved vulva of yours. “oh, ellie
” she grinned as she watching you come undone, your fingers slipping into her hair and tugging at it. she lapped and lapped at your clit, tongue running circles around the sensitive bud. she gave it a last kiss before she pulled away, smirking at your distress.
“preview, baby. all that was. go to your room, m’followin’ you.”
you were anxious to walk, taking just a moment before giddily rushing to your room. the masculine woman easily followed your direction, shutting the door hard behind her as she pulled you down to the bed with her. her hands were immediately on you as you lay atop her, caressing and running down your back, cupping your ass and squeezing.
“you’re so ready for me baby, aren’t you?” she asked with a small smirk playing at her lips. “you wanna grind that pretty pussy on mine, don’t you?”
“i-i’ve never done this before, i-i don’t know what to do,” you admitted, although she already knew your circumstance.
“makin’ me do all the work, you pretty lil pillow princess?” she teased, that same lazy grin on her face. she easily flipped you over, watching your eyes widen in surprise. “god, how are you so perfect
” she moaned softly to herself, her hands running down your sides, down your legs, and down your calves. she reached her jeans, unbuttoning them and tugging them down quickly. you gulped as you eyed her pubic mound, her dark hair trimmed finely.. she lifted your hips up, appreciating your vulva once more. she used her thumb to lift up your clitoral hood, bending down to meet the pearl with her tongue. “mm, god, i can’t get enough of you. pull your shirt up, wanna see those tits ‘ve been wantin’ to see.” you did as you were told, quickly pulling your nightshirt up and showing her your breasts. a groan left her throat as her hands reached out to touch them, tweaking and rolling your nipples between her fingers.
“please,” you whined, your head tilted back. “please, ellie
”
“oh, i know you’re so needy, huh? never done this before? never been touched so good by another girl b’fore, huh?” ellie teased once more, and all you could do was nod. it was all true. “say it, baby. tell me how much of a loser you are.”
with an embarrassed grimace, you obliged, “i-i’m a big loser. ‘ve never, ever gotten laid ‘n i wanna
 oh!” you gasped as you felt the sensation of her pussy meet yours. “ellie
” her hips ground against yours, your clits bumping and running across each other.
“you like this? my pussy all over yours?” she growled, rolling her hips to meet your cunt. “fuck, you’re so wet.” you moaned out, your hands trying to find a place to stay as they flailed. they gripped the sheets and you watched above as her pussy slid across yours. you both glistened with a thin layer of sweat, your bodies becoming hot with arousal. “you feel so fucking good.”
“yes,” you cried, “more.” and she gave you more, her hips rolling with fervor while you writhed in pleasure. “p-please— ellie!”
“yeah, scream my name you little slut,” she purred, her auburn hair sticking to her sweaty face. “let ‘em know— let the neighbors know you’re finally getting laid.”
you continued to moan her name, completely drunk on this feeling. she let out small little ‘just like that’s’ as your voice echoed off the walls of your room.
it was intense, your bodies moving together and so perfectly in sync. sweat dripped from her forehead onto your belly, slightly coating your skin. her hands gripped your chest as she ground against you, the position slightly awkward, but pleasing nonetheless as your heats mushed together in symphony. sloppy squelches filled your ears, almost drowned out by your moans and cries as she took you.
“i’m gonna,” you began, tears welling up in your pretty eyes, “i’m gonna cum, ellie!”
“yeah? right on my pussy? cum right on my pussy, baby,” she moaned, her hands reaching her cup her own breast. you moaned, following her command like a dog as your canal contracting around nothing, costing her slick folds in all your essence. your body convulsed as you came, and the sight forced a moan out of her throat. “yeah, that’s it, my good girl, fu—ck
 i’m cumming!” with her orgasm following in suit, she gripped your leg hard, riding out her orgasm as you tried to come down from your own. you whined from the overstimulation, feeling her arousal spread out on your flesh. she shushed you, her index finger on your lips as she calmed her breathing. she dropped your leg, plopping beside you with a grunt.
“t-that was good,” you said to her, your eyes lingering on her glistening face.
“mhm, now you get to brag to a—ll your nerdy, little virgin friends that you,” she jabbed a finger, “got laid.”
“you’re mean,” you huffed, a little pout on your face. she smirked, bringing a hand to the back of your neck and bringing you in to kiss.
“yeah?” she chuckled, “but you like it.”
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rafeandonlyrafe · 9 months ago
Text
in sickness and in health
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words: 1k
warnings: doctors office, physical appointment, needle warning!, fear of needles/medical stuff, established relationship, husband!rafe, soft!rafe pregnancy cw
“you ready to go?” rafe asks, swinging his car keys around his finger.
“uh, yeah
” you look down to your own hand, keys clenched in your first.
“you wanna drive?” rafe asks, frowning. you never drive your own car when he's available.
“um
 i just figured you wouldn't wanna go.” you shrug. “its just a physical.”
“it's still the doctors, and the doctors make you nervous.” 
rafe isn't wrong, you're not a fan of anything medical, but it's just your family doctors office, not the hospital or anything too scary.
“don't you have golf with top?” you scheduled your appointment for the same time he usually meets up with topper at the country club, thinking it would be a good time to pop in real quick.
“i canceled when you put your appointment on the calendar. do you not want me to come?” rafe frowns.
“no, i do! i just figured-” you shrug. “i don't know, you wouldn't want to.”
“what did our vows say baby?” rafe asks.
“huh?” 
“in sickness and in health. im coming.” rafe takes the car keys out of your hand, tossing them back into the bowl on your entrance table. “and im driving, of course.”
--
“thanks for coming with me rafey.” you squeeze his hand, eyes on the clock as the minutes tick by. you arrived early for your appointment, only to be told the doctor was running behind. “even though im not really sick.” you giggle at how seriously he takes his vows.
“i would never expect you to go alone, honey.” rafe simply says. “now, do you want me to go in the room with you or should i wait out here? i don't mind either way.”
“um
 actually can you come in with me?” you ask shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “i need to get my flu shot and you know how much i hate needles.”
“shit, a shot?” rafe leans forward to pick his water bottle up off the table, thrusting it into your hands. “here, hydrate. don't want you passing out.”
“thanks.” you take a sip of the water. rafe came with you once long before you were married to get blood drawn, and you think you traumatized him by passing out right after the needle left your arm.
“do you want me to get a snack from the vending machine, love?” rafe questions, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“no, but do you think we could go out to lunch after?” you pout out your bottom lip, although there really is no reason to as rafe quickly agrees.
--
“and you're alright with your husband being in here?” the doctor asks.
you nod enthusiastically. “yup! i asked him, since im gonna be getting the flu shot.”
your doctor nods, remembering from last year how much you hated the needle. “alright, i will just have you sit in here mr. cameron for a moment while we get a urine sample.”
you feel extra thankful for accepting the water from rafe in the waiting room as you're easily able to fill up the sample cup before placing it in the cupboard.
“alright, the labs will get to work on it right away.” your doctor nods. “will probably be done by the end of your appointment, if not soon after.” 
“awesome.” you nod, heading back into the exam room, smiling when you realize rafe was patiently waiting for you to return.
the doctor goes through your normal exam, asking you questions and checking your vitals, making notes to add to the system later.
“alright, it all looks good. why don't you hop up on the table and we can do your flu shot?”
“okay.” you swallow heavily, looking to rafe who stands with you, gripping your hand and allowing you to press your face into his chest.
“don't tell me when.” you say, muffled by rafes shirt. “just do it.”
you feel the poke and stiffen out, letting out a small sound that hurts rafes chest to hear, holding you tighter as the doctor withdrawals the needle and covers your arm with a bandage.
“all done! you did great. just lay down.” 
you lay back on the bed, eyes closing as you breath, thankfully not feeling the urge to pass out.
“im going to have a nurse bring you in some crackers and apple juice while i get your results back from the urine test.”
“thank you.” you manage to mumble as your doctor leaves.
you blink your eyes open to look up at rafe. “that sucked, but thanks for being here.” you smile, rafe bending down to press a quick kiss to your lips as the nurse comes in.
“i got ‘em.” rafe holds the two cups, allowing you to pick out a cracker and eat it before realizing how dry your mouth is. you manage to sit up, head still slightly dizzy, to take a sip of juice, the sugary drink instantly making you feel better.
you keep snacking until your doctor returns, a stack of papers in her hands.
“feeling good?” she questions, to which you quickly nod.
“yes, thank you.”
“so, just to quickly go over your results
” she frowns when she looks at the paper. 
“what's wrong?” rafe asks.
“i need to ask you to step out of the room, mr. cameron.” she says.
“no!” you squeal, before quickly composing yourself. “no, i want him here. especially if something is wrong.”
“your results look good except for an elevated hormone called hcg. it's a sign of pregnancy.”
“im
 im pregnant?”
“yes. the results indicate more than three weeks pregnant.”
you look up to rafe, watching him process the information as tears well in his eyes. he finally looks down at you as tears fall.
“baby
 we are gonna be parents.”
you let out a sob, not even realizing that you were already crying as well as rafe pulls you into a tight hug.
“ill give you guys a moment.” the doctor quickly steps out of the room.
“oh my god.” you press your hands against your stomach. “oh my god!”
“im
 im so happy.” rafe laughs, pressing a kiss against your lips.
“oh rafe, you're gonna be the best daddy ever.” you cup his cheek, pulling him back in for a more intense kiss.
sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie
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evie-sturns · 8 months ago
Text
sick - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: when you come down with a bad cold, the only person you want is your best friend matt.
contains: fluff, bestfriend!matt, comforting, a little bit of crying.
a/n: just a short one today due to the fact i'm literally bed bound sick.
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i roll over in my messed up sheets, my whole body practically on fire and my head throbbing. i let out a frustrated groan as i wait for matt to finally come over to my place,
i invited matt over around 20 minutes ago, meaning he should be here at any moment.
click
the door to my bedroom opens and i'm met with matts sorry face. "matt!" my voice croaks, which quickly turns into a fit of coughs.
"you look like hell" matt laughs slightly, "such a gentleman matthew." i scoff with an eye roll.
"are you feeling okay?" he asks, walking over to my side of the bed and picking up the piles of tissues on the floor.
"oh- matt you don't have to touch those tissues." i protest, "its all good." he smiles before chucking them in the bin thats in the corner of my room.
i go to get out of bed, then stumble over into matt. "careful there" he says, grabbing my arm.
"my hair is like matted i need to brush it." i sigh,
"lay back down, i'll get your brush." matt says, helping me back down into bed. i lay down against the plush of my sheets.
matt disappears into my bathroom and comes out a couple seconds later with my baby pink brush and a few hair ties.
he jumps into bed next to me and pulls me onto his lap as he sits up against the headboard.
i sit facing the front, i can feel matt's light breathes coming from behind me as one of his cold hands finds its way into my hair.
"do i just.. brush it?" matt asks, "obviously." i laugh,
matt runs the brush through my hair gently, "does that hurt?"
"no it's okay" i smiles, rubbing my nose with the palm of my hand.
matt bunches up my hair in the back and ties it into a loose low bun, "that feel better?" matt asks, i nod before laying back against matt's chest.
i feel my body shiver all though i'm boiling hot, my sinuses are completely blocked and my throat feels like it's being cut by 1000 razor blades.
"my stomach hurts." i sniff, wiping my eyes as i feel myself grow overwhelmed.
"i know it does, i'm sorry." matt whispers,
i feel a couple tears fall down my hot cheeks, which quickly turns into a small sob.
"oh no- sweetheart don't cry." matt rubs my arms, "i feel sick." i mumble,
"i know you do, you've got a bad cold haven't 'ya?" matt coo's, i nod with a small pout.
matt continues to hold me close, his warmth comforting against the cold temperature of my body. i lean into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
"do you want me to get you some water?" he suggests softly, his fingers gently tracing circles on my back.
"please," i manage to whisper, my voice barely audible through the congestion.
matt leaves the bed. i hear him moving around in the kitchen, the clinking of mugs and the sound of water spilling, followed by a small 'shit'.
he returns with a glass of water. he hands it to me carefully, his eyes full of concern.
"thank you," i say hoarsely, taking a sip. it feels like a balm to my sore throat, easing the rawness with each swallow.
matt sits back down beside me, pulling the covers up over both of us. he wraps his arms around me, holding me close as i drift in and out of a feverish sleep.
"i feel like death." i say with a cough, matt laughs slightly "you're gonna be okay, i promise."
"i don't want you to get sick matt-" i say, shooting up in bed.
matt grabs my arm and pulls me back down onto the matress, "you won't, i'm like 'fuckin superman or something, i don't get sick."
"oh your tough" i tease him, earning a small flick to my arm
"shush" matt scoffs, wrapping his arms around me, "you should just be grateful i haven't thrown up on you." i point out
"if you throw up on me i'm going home y/n" matt states, rubbing his eyes with a grin.
"then i'll try to keep my lunch down!" i say stupidly,
"thank you for your consideration" he laughs, i rest my head on his chest as i shut my eyes.
"go to sleep you idiot." matt sighs, i nod tiredly into his shirt.
matt presses a small kiss to the top of my head, and with another crunchy cough i feel myself slowly doze off to bed.
---------------------------
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m0llygunn · 2 years ago
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The Blackout (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)
Summary: A state wide power outage during the hottest days of the year leave you and eddie getting on each others nerves with only one way to work it out...
Warnings: 18+! smut, mature language, pet names (baby, sweetheart), oral (f receiving), p in v sex (no protection), creampie, sweaty sex, porn with plot, both eddie and reader are kind of mean to each other, no y/n. Author’s note: its summer and way too hot out so i wrote this idk wc: 3.3k
⚯ . âș ✩ âŠč ê™ł âș ‧ ⚯. âș ✩ âŠč . * ê™ł ✩ âŠč
“Its so fucking hot.” He groans.
“Eddie, if I can’t say I’m bored you can’t say you’re hot.” 
I didn’t say I was hot, I said it was hot.” Eddie snaps, heat driving him to agitation.
“Go for a fucking walk then, I don’t know what to tell you.” You snap back.
The power’s been out for three days, with the outage reaching across most of the state. 
Three whole fucking days during a record breakingly hot summer. 
With the power being out, that means no A/C, no TV, no phone, no radio, no nothing. They’re calling it ‘The Blackout’ by what you gathered from neighbours. It is truly a moment of history that you’re sharing with Eddie, and it’s been fucking miserable. 
“Jesus Christ.” Eddie groans, standing from the opposite end of the couch. “It’s just as fucking hot out there, why would you even think a walk would be a good idea?” 
“Stop being pissy.” You warn. 
He shoots you a glare before pulling his shirt off over his head. Why he even bothered putting a shirt on after his shower, escapes you. The only thing that has kept you both from completely withering away in the stifling, suffocating heat has been taking showers. The only downside of it is that the water heater obviously uses electricity so the water is uncomfortably cold. 
You watch as he crosses to the kitchen.
“Do you think the milk would still be good?” He asks, hand on the fridge door, looking in your direction.
“Why would I know?” You reply snarkily, still mad over him snapping at you. 
“Holy shit, it was just a question.” He groans. “Fuck— and you think I’m being pissy.” He mumbles under his breath as he quickly opens the fridge, grabbing the milk and shutting it just as fast to try and preserve some of the cold air inside. 
“I heard that.” You yell back.
“You were supposed to.” He retorts. You watch him as he sniffs the milk, nose scrunching in response.
“It’s bad?” You ask.
He doesn’t respond, he just starts dumping it down the sink, slamming the empty carton down onto the counter.
It’s been so hot you both haven’t had the energy to do anything besides argue. The first day you both thought it was semi-interesting seeing everything out of power and watching people gathering outside to excitedly chatter about it, but as the remaining cold air from the air conditioner turned hot, it wasn’t fun anymore. Then the bickering started. 
You continue watching him as he opens the fridge again, this time grabbing a beer, and quickly closing the fridge like last time. 
He cracks the can and you can tell from the scowl on his face as he takes a sip that it’s warm. 
“It’s warm?” You ask, purely just to annoy him. You have to admit, his pissy mood is helping with your boredom, he’s serving as quite the entertainment. 
You watch as he slams the can down on the counter.
“Are you being annoying on purpose?” He asks, brows pinched, eyes narrowed in on you.
“Are you being annoying on purpose?” You mock, pitching your voice up into a nasally tone. 
“Fucking stop it.” He scolds, brows pinching even more harshly. 
“Fucking stop it.” You mock quietly, turning in your seat on the couch to face away from Eddie.
You hear what sounds like him gulping the beer before heavy stomps heading straight for you.
“You’re pissing me off on purpose?” He asks. 
Out of your periphery you can see him standing beside you, arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m not doing anything.” 
“You are.”
The corners of your lips tug up and as much as you try to stop it, you can’t.
“Do you think this is funny?” Eddie asks bewilderedly, not even the slightest bit amused by you. 
“I don’t think anything about this is funny, Eddie.” You reply, your smile maturing into a smirk.
Eddie huffs, moving to sit back down beside you on the couch, making sure to sit as far away from you as possible. He exhales a deep sigh and you can tell he’s pissed by the way his jaw repeatedly clenches. 
You slowly shift so your feet are up on the couch. Eddie's eyes are set forward, ignoring you on purpose.
Inch by inch you stretch your legs out until your toes are poking him in the side. He doesn’t react so you wiggle your toes, digging them in harder. 
Without even sparing you a look, he grabs both of your feet pulling them on his lap, holding them tightly so they can’t move. 
“Eddie, let go.” You whine as you try to escape the grips he has around your ankles. He ignores you.
You have two choices. You could lay here quietly or you could make things exponentially worse. 
Exponentially worse sounds more entertaining.
You huff a breath and notice the way Eddie’s jaw clenches right after. You sigh, and he does it again. 
You breathe comically loud and you swear you see his eye twitch.
One more sigh and you’re sure he’ll break his little silent treatment, so you let out a soft breathy sigh.
Nothing. Not even a jaw clench this time. You’re positive he’s just trying his best to ignore you now but you know two little words that have driven him up the wall for the last three days. 
“Eddie, I’m bored.” You whine, and sure enough he breaks. His head turns in your direction, eyes burning into you. 
You think he’s gonna say something but instead he pulls you by the feet, grabbing your arm so you’re practically sitting in his lap.
“You’re bored?” He coos, taunting you. He pulls at your limbs, getting you to straddle his hips, your hands landing on his bare chest. 
“Don’t.” You warn, despite your increased heart rate at getting the exact response you were looking for. 
“Aw but my baby’s bored, doesn’t she just want a little attention?” He continues his taunting, looking at you with a faux concern. 
“You’re all sweaty.” You say, feeling his sticky skin under your fingertips.
“Baby, it’s cause you got me all worked up now. Pissing me off on purpose just for a quick laugh, right?” He says, pulling you closer to him with his hands on your hips. “What wrong, sweetheart? Where’s that smile from earlier? Seems to have disappeared now that you got what you wanted.” He teases.
“Wasn’t trying to piss you off.” You huff. 
“Baby, you got what you wanted didn’t you? No use in lying.” He proceeds with his taunt. 
“M’not lying.” You whisper, watching your fingers as you skate them down his sweat slicked chest. When he sternly says your name you look up at him.
“Baby, there’s no way you just said all that stuff without purposefully saying it to annoy me.” He says, cutting out all the coos, teasing, and taunting.
“Oh, so you think I’m annoying?” You say, raising your brows at him. 
“Oh my god.” Eddie groans, throwing his head back against the couch in defeat. 
You watch him as his brows pinch and his eyes squeeze shut to try and calm himself. You're about to speak again to scold him, but his hips shift below yours, his hard length pressed between your thighs.  
“Oh my god.” You gasp. “You’re hard?” 
His eyes shoot open, glaring at you for pointing it out so flagrantly. You didn’t think he was getting this worked up. Truthfully you were just doing this for a quick laugh, not a quick fuck. 
“What did you think I was doing?” He asks, hands squeezing your hips, eyes still burning into you. Evidently you both were on separate pages but feeling his length still pressing into you, you're quickly switching over to the same wavelength as Eddie, but not without a little more entertainment. 
“Accusing me of being annoying and a liar.” You shrill, tilting your head at him. 
“Oh my god, you need to stop talking.” He says, hands pulling you by the cheeks towards his face. He presses his lips to yours and only then you process what he just said.
“Don’t tell me to stop talking.” You say, pulling away from the kiss. 
“Shhh.” He hushes, pulling you back in, his lips pressing back to yours
“Don’t tell me to shush.” You say, pulling back once more. 
Eddie groans, head falling forward to rest against your chest.
After a few deep breaths he pulls away. When he looks at you again, you can tell he’s still annoyed but he’s trying to relax his features.
“Do you want to fuck or not?” He asks, purposefully softening his voice. 
“Ever the romantic.” You scoff.
“Baby.” He says, starting to reduce to a whine.
You find both amusement and pity in him, opting to grind your hips against his. His hands fall to your sides again, guiding you against him. 
“So is that a yes?” He asks, mouth falling open as you pass over his length. 
“You told me to stop talking.” You reply, smile tugging on your lips. You spread your thighs further, dropping your weight onto his crotch and he gasps, chasing it with a deep exhale.
“Talk, don’t talk, I don’t care, just keep doing that.” He grunts, lifting his hips enough to meet yours. 
“Don’t be fucking rude.” You say, lifting your hips from his. When you watch his face, his annoyance falls into desperation and defeat as he attempts to chase after you with his hips before deflating into the couch with a ïżœïżœhumph’.
"Fuck, please, baby.” He groans, pinching your skin between his fingers with his harsh grip on your thighs. 
“Say you’re sorry.” You demand, hips still lifted from him. 
“I’m sorry baby, let me show you how sorry I am.” He whines, bringing his face to sit against your chest, pressing kisses into your skin wherever he can reach. 
“Fine.” You reply, smiling to yourself as you place both palms flat on his chest to guide yourself as you resume your grinding. 
He lets you continue the glide of your hips against him for a moment before his hands rise to your waist, lifting you up and peeling himself from the couch. 
He flips you, sitting you back against the couch while sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you. 
“C’mon baby, let’s get these off.” He says lowly, fingers tangling in the lace of your panties under your oversized shirt. You lift your hips and he quickly pulls them off, throwing them beside him. 
He grabs your hips again, pulling you to the edge of the couch, immediately connecting his mouth to your cunt. 
You whimper as his tongue licks up your slit, swirling around your clit. He’s quick to introduce his fingers, plunging two inside of you, bringing them in and out at a pace he knows you like. 
“Look at you, all quiet and happy now.” Eddie laughs. You look down at him between your legs and his eyes are focused on you, pupils blown wide and sparkling in amusement as his skin glistens in a sheer sweat. 
You don’t respond to him, you just watch with a slack jaw as his mouth works against you, fingers massaging that sweet spot inside, drawing all sorts of whimpers and moans from your lungs. 
Your pleasure keeps building and building, tension becoming a hot blur inside of you until Eddie’s mouth stops completely. A whined cry escapes your lips as the crescendo of your high is pulled from you. 
“How do you have me showing you that I’m sorry? You’re the one who was purposefully pissing me off.” Eddie questions, brows furrowed. It’s not a sly tease or a playful trick of the moment, it’s a genuine realization that’s just come to him. 
“Eddie.” You whine. 
“No, seriously. You’re the one who started this, why am I sorry?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You groan. 
“No.” He retorts, brows pinched. You sink your weight into the couch, exhaling through your nose before looking back at Eddie. 
“Eddie, I was so close to coming.” You whine, bringing your hands to his face to push his sweaty bangs back, trying to will him to continue.
“Say sorry then.” He says firmly, ignoring your hands on his face.
“Eddie.” You whine again. He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly and you sigh harshly bring your arms to your chest, folding them in a pout. “Do you want me to give you a blow job, is that what this is about?” He blinks at you slowly before opening his mouth. 
“I want you to say sorry.” He pushes, refusing to be distracted by your offer. 
“Sorry.” You mumble, annoyed that he’s really making you apologize mid fuck. 
“What was that, couldn’t quite hear you.” He says, smile ghosting over his lips as he turns his ear to you, cupping it with his hand.
“I said sorry.” You snap. His smile turns into a dimpled grin as his eyes bleed pure amusement. 
“Get down here.” He laughs, pulling you down the couch further, wrapping his arms around your back and maneuvering you to the floor.
“Eddie!” You shriek as your body hits the floor, his hands guiding you downwards. You’re greeted with a coolness against your back that feels refreshing against your boiling hot skin. 
“It’s cooler down here.” He says, lowering his face to kiss at your shirt clad chest before his hands grab at the hem. You sit up enough for him to raise the shirt over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving you bare on the floor in front of him. 
He sits up, unbuckling his pants, tugging them down.
“Gonna fuck you right here on the floor, baby.” He mumbles, fumbling distractedly with his pants that stick to his sweaty skin. It takes him a while, but when they're finally off, boxers removed with them, he wastes no time running his fist up and down his length before bringing it to your core. 
“Ready, baby?” 
“I was ready about 5 minutes ago before you started fighting with your pant—” You sneer before Eddie pushes into you, interrupting your snarky comment by punching all the air from your lungs. 
“Baby, you really gotta quit that attitude, it’s too fucking hot in here for that.” He grunts, punctuating every other word with thrusts into you.
The stretch of him filling you up and the force behind each jut of his hips leaves your head spinning. 
“Eddie.” You moan, feeling your lost pleasure resurface quickly, tension already building in your lower belly.
Your heavy breathing gets buried under the echoes of sticky skin slapping together with each of Eddie's pistoling movements. His plunging thrusts working his cock deep inside of you, the adrenaline of your non-stop arguing working as fuel for him fervently fucking you. 
Reaching your arms up to him, you bring your hands to his back, grasping for purchase against his sweaty skin, resorting to using your nails to keep you tethered to him as he fucks you into the carpeted floor. 
“You like that, baby? Just wanted me to fuck you, huh? Getting me all pissed off so I can give it to you nice and hard.” He grunts, one of his hands releasing the tight squeeze on your thighs to graze over your chest, the heat of his hand searing your skin, leaving you tingling under the trail of his touch.
“Mhmm” You moan, agreeing mindlessly, lost in pleasure. You look up at Eddie, his brows furrowed in pleasure, mouth dropped agape, hair stuck to his face and you feel a burst of adoration for him. 
“Eddie.” You whine, using your grip on him to pull him down. “Kiss.” You add, and he lowers to you immediately. His lips meet yours, both of you working your lips together in a salty kiss tainted by the mixing sweat of your upper lips. He continues thrusting into you, the new position as he licks into your mouth offering an added friction to your clit with each plunge making you gasp and moan into his mouth. 
“Fuck.” He groans. “Feels so good, baby.” His kisses stop but he doesn’t let his lips leave you entirely, breathing his words into your mouth. 
The sweltering hot knot in your belly grows impossibly tight, each thrust of his hips reaching deeper inside of you while his hot breath funnels directly into your mouth leaving you absolutely dizzy.
“G-gonna cum, Eddie.” You stutter, lower belly tensing so harshly your breathing only comes in harsh pants.
“Cum for me, baby. Need to feel you cum.” He groans.
You let go, body vibrating, and in the heat of the house it feels like everything inside of you is boiling over in an orgasmic haze. Your skin prickles, as Eddie’s thrusting grows more erratic.
You grip harshly against his skin, fingers slipping and nails digging in harder with every final thrust bringing you through your searing high. 
“Fuck. Fuck, squeezing me so hard, baby.” He whimpers, hips meeting yours as he pushes deeply inside of you, balls tensing and cock twitching as he fills you up with the warm milkiness of his cum. He thrusts in and out of you, hips stuttering as he rides through his high before collapsing on top of you. 
His chest pushes against yours with every gasp of air as he catches his breath and you slowly but surely come back to reality. Reality— which is an absolutely sweltering hot, sweaty man on top of you. 
“You’re so sweaty.” You whisper, feeling the stickiness of his face press against your cheek, his hair sticking all over his face and your face. He laughs, the hot air of his breath fanning over the dripping sweat on your neck. 
“You too.” He says, pushing himself up with his arms to look at you. With drips of sweat beading down his temples, bangs sticking in all different directions, every hint of annoyance is gone from his eyes, leaving behind a hazy contentment mixed with adoration. 
“I think you gave me carpet burn.” You say, smiling despite the stinging burn on your back that you only notice now as he shifts on top of you, relieving you of his weight. 
“I think you drew blood.” He laughs, mirroring your smile. He sits up on his knees, pulling out from you with a mirrored gasp between the two of you. 
On his knees, he twists his upper body showing you the angry red lines you drew on his back with your nails. You gasp and he turns back around, looking at you with a knowing smile. 
“Here, sit up, baby.” He says, holding his arms out for you. You take them and he tugs you up, peering behind you at your back.
“Yup, s’all red.” He laughs. 
“Shower?” You say, pulling yourself closer to him. He pulls you up from the floor, slippery grip making you slide from him until he boosts you up, reclaiming a firm grip on your ass. 
“Fuck yeah, we need a shower.” He breathes as he walks you to the bathroom, kicking the door open. 
You and Eddie spent the next few hours sitting in the tub finding salvation from the muggy heat in the freezing cold water that runs from the tap. It was an uncomfortable fit in the small tub but with your knees pressed to your chest, your back to his front, and one of his calves hanging over the ledge, you both sat together, chattering quietly until you both were pruny and ready to get out. 
By the late evening, you were on better terms, arguing reduced to nothing but a playful teasing lilt.
Just as you both started to get ready for bed, the lights turned back on along with the beautiful melody of the air conditioner vibrating from the window. 
The room cooled down drastically, leaving you both happy and allowing for you to cuddle in bed, completely sweat free.
As soon as your heads hit your pillows, with your bodies relaxing into each other as you nodded off to sleep, everything that transpired in the heated power outage reduced to a moment of the past that you two will grow to laugh at over time. 
You did gather one thing though, getting Eddie riled up before sex is extremely entertaining. 
⚯ . âș ✩ âŠč ê™ł âș ‧ ⚯. âș ✩ âŠč . * ê™ł ✩ âŠč
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roosterforme · 5 months ago
Text
Aim for the Sky Part 18 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When grandparents come to visit, Rose gets spoiled silly, and you and Bradley get an opportunity to spend some time alone. You have doubts about your body, but being around your husband makes you feel as good as you hoped it would.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, messing around, DILF Roo
Length: 5200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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You were exhausted, and your breasts hurt. There was so much to do, and Rose wanted to eat constantly. Taking a twenty minute shower felt like a luxury, but your husband insisted on it when you started to cry in the kitchen. 
"Do you want some ginger ale?" he asked, tucking Rose into the baby carrier so she would hopefully fall asleep.
"Yeah," you replied, not really sure why you were crying. Bradley patted your butt and told you to go get in the shower, promising to bring the drink in for you.
While the water warmed up, you got undressed and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your body was like a deflated balloon, and you couldn't stop thinking about how weird you looked. Absolutely nothing was as tight as it used to be, and even your face looked unamused and annoyed. And every time you thought about how much you hated the way your body looked now, you got upset with yourself, because you had a beautiful daughter.
"You didn't get in the shower?"
You had you pull yourself out of your daze to meet Bradley's eyes in the mirror. He was holding a plastic cup, and Rose appeared to have finally fallen asleep. "Oh. I will." 
You were almost embarrassed to have him in the bathroom with you as you scrutinized your new bits of cellulite and stretch marks, but he simply wrapped his free arm around you from behind and whispered, "Take your time. I'm going to put Rose in her crib, and then we can watch a movie or snuggle."
Unshed tears burned at your eyes and your throat as he kissed your bare shoulder. He had to go back to work tomorrow. Your parents were arriving tomorrow night. There were so many things happening all at once, and you were overwhelmed even though you barely had to lift a finger with him taking care of so much.
Bradley's breath was warm on your skin as you shivered, naked in the middle of the room. "I love you, Baby Girl. Get in the shower. You'll feel better."
Somehow, he was right. The steamy water pounded against your skin while you sipped your cold ginger ale, and even the sound echoing off the glass and tile was oddly satisfying. You took a few deep breaths with your eyes closed and didn't move for a couple minutes before you reached for the soap.
You didn't even try to put your own clothing on when you finally walked back into your bedroom. Nothing fit, and you didn't want to have to deal with looking at yourself like that in the mirror again, so you pulled on Bradley's old, stretched out gym shorts and one of his shirts. You felt freshly scrubbed and in a much better mood as you walked down the hallway and poked your head inside Rosie's nursery. She was sprawled out on her back in one of her fuzzy sleepers, and you smiled at Tramp curled up in a circle on the rug. He lifted his head to look at you as you turned toward the living room where you could hear the TV on with the volume low.
"Hi," you whispered, and Bradley lifted the blanket so you could join him on the couch. "You got her down okay?"
He wrapped his muscular arm around you. "I did. Eventually. She started crying the first time I set her down, and then Tramp licked her through the crib which made her cry more. This parenting shit is exhausting."
For the first time in a week, you realized just how tired he looked. Bradley made everything seem so easy right now, and you didn't know how you'd manage while he was at work tomorrow. But he looked like he needed a good night's sleep tonight. 
"Want to watch an episode of Real Housewives?" you asked.
He shrugged and tried not to smile. "Only if you want to." It was shamelessly his favorite show, so you queued up an episode and curled up facing his chest. "Aren't you going to watch it, too?" he chuckled, nodding past you to the TV.
You responded by raking your fingers through his hair, and a second later he was yawning. "I'll watch it in a minute," you lied, and he melted into the scalp massage you gave him. Each soft grunt you elicited from him was followed by him closing his eyes for a few seconds, and as soon as you kissed the scars on his cheek, he was sound asleep. Then your fingers went slack in his hair as you yawned.
The two of you got a solid five hours on the couch before Rose started crying for food.
-------------------------------
"How's the baby? Can I see a picture?"
Bradley sighed quietly to himself and turned to see Javy pulling on a pair of compression shorts next to him. 
"She's great. Gets a little better at sleeping every night," he replied, scrolling through his photo gallery to show him a picture of Rose in her crib. Everyone and their mother seemed to stop him on his way to the locker room, and it was getting to the point where he was going to be late to the tarmac if everyone didn't shut up.
"Damn! She's adorable," Javy said with a laugh. "Kind of makes me want one."
"That's called 'baby fever'," Bradley said, tucking his phone away so he could pull on his flight suit. "Apparently it's a real thing and highly contagious. Want me to put a stop to it for you?"
"Sure," Javy said smoothly, still laughing until Bradley told him the cost of the fancy daycare on base for a month. "Jesus," the other man gasped. "Never mind."
"Exactly," Bradley muttered, finally zipping up his flight suit when Jake strolled in. 
"How's my goddaughter, Rose Bradshaw?" he asked, loud enough that anyone in a three mile radius would have heard.
"Wait, you made Hangman the godfather?" asked Mickey from the other side of the lockers. "Damn. That's pretty wild."
Bradley took a deep breath and said, "I need to get out on the tarmac to talk to Maverick." 
There was something kind of awful about coming back to work after a week off with just you and the baby, and he realized he was in a shitty mood as he took the long way outside to avoid everyone else. He missed Rose, and he missed making lunch for you. He was getting pretty good at smashing up the nasty avocado stuff and globbing it onto a perfectly toasted slice of overpriced bread. He really felt like he should still be there with you just in case you needed something. 
"There you are," Maverick said, pushing his aviators higher on his nose as Bradley hustled through the hangar. "How's little Rose?"
He wanted to tell his godfather that it was bullshit that he had to be at work when he had an adorable nine day old daughter he could be playing with, but he bit his tongue. "She's great. Thanks for the stuffed animals. The goose and the rooster were a nice touch."
Maverick waved him off. "You don't need to thank me for anything. Let's have a conversation as we walk to the tower." Bradley kept up the same pace with him as he said, "I'm going to need you to stay until six today. I'll give you a shot performing a dog fighting exercise with some of the new arrivals, but you'll need to stay and write up your post lesson notes."
Bradley licked his lips. On one hand, he'd been grabbing onto every little crumb that was offered when it came to teaching on base. If he could spend more time working out of North Island and less time on an aircraft carrier, he would be able to avoid some of the long deployments that made having a wife and child at home feel so impossible. On the other hand, he was supposed to pick your parents up from the airport at six. He didn't want to send you and Rose out in rush hour to get them even though he knew nothing could beat the comfort and safety of the red Bronco.
Hopefully he could get to the airport quickly enough that your parents wouldn't even notice he was running late. He cleared his throat nervously. "Sounds good, Mav. I'll stay until six."
-----------------------------
By dinnertime, you were in tears. Rose was already crying again. You just finished feeding her. You were trying to figure out how to use the breast pump, but now it was in pieces on the kitchen island. You couldn't even manage to put ten minutes together to make it work properly. Your body looked scary, you forgot to eat lunch, your entire face was breaking out, and now Rose was wailing.
If you couldn't even make it through one day alone with her, how the fuck were you supposed to even be a mom?
"I'm coming," you called out, almost tripping over Tramp on your way back to the nursery. Your breasts were aching, and as soon as she latched on, you couldn't tell if they felt better or worse. You couldn't tell anything. You hadn't slept for more than five consecutive hours in over a week, because Rose was always hungry.
"Please take a nap after this," you whispered. "I need a nap, too." Truthfully, you wanted your parents here just as much as you wanted Bradley. Rose spit up on the kitchen floor earlier, and you kept forgetting to clean it up between her feeding frenzies. You could probably get your dad to do that. And you needed more panty liners from the story which your mom could probably handle. And you needed your husband to make you avocado toast before you withered away into oblivion. 
"We're here!" Bradley called out through the house as you finished changing a wet diaper. You quickly yanked your dirty tank top back over your head, and as soon as you walked out into the living room, you started crying.
And so did your parents as they crowded around you, kissing your cheeks and looking at the baby in your arms.
"It was one thing seeing her over facetime," your mom sobbed, "but she's even more precious in person."
"Hi, Rose. I'm your grandpa," you dad whispered as the baby yawned. "I think she kind of looks like me."
You laughed as you cried, relief flooding through your body as your mom scooped Rose up into her arms, and then Bradley was at your side, kissing your forehead. 
"Did my pretty girls have a good day?" he asked, stroking your cheek with his thumb and smiling at you as if you looked like a fairy princess rather than an unfed, exhausted rat. 
He smelled a bit like jet fuel, and for some reason he was still wearing his flight suit even though he knew you couldn't have sex with him. "It was just really hard," you whispered, looking up at him like you needed him to understand without you having to explain it to him.
Bradley glanced around at the pump parts in the kitchen and the spit up on the floor. He held you a little tighter as he nodded. "It was really hard for me, too. I just wanted to be here to try to make your day easier." Now you were crying in earnest as your mom and dad continued to make a fuss over the baby, but Bradley was already walking you backwards toward the hallway. "I'm sure the grandparents can hold down the fort while we take a little break?"
"Absolutely," your mom replied, kissing Rose's feet while your dad held her. "Take your time."
As soon as you were in the quiet solace of your bedroom, Bradley bent to remove his boots, and then he unzipped his flight suit and left it in a heap on the floor. "I think I'd feel better if we got in bed for a few minutes." You nodded in agreement, climbing into the unmade bed, and a second later, you were wrapped up in his arms under the covers. He sighed as you curled up against his chest. "Yeah. This is what I needed."
It was like night and day for you. As soon as you were with him, everything felt better. More manageable. Like you could handle all of it. Bradley pressed his lips to your temple as you whispered, "I've been waiting for this moment all day."
"God, I fucking love you, Baby Girl."
You laughed in response, but you weren't joking. "I'm so serious, Roo. I was overwhelmed, and I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. And Rose is just hungry all day and all night, and I can barely keep up."
His big hand slid up and down your arm, soothing away your stress as he murmured, "Well, you make it look easy, Sweetheart. Best mom in the world. As soon as I get my fill of you, I'll make you dinner."
You let his words sink in as you got your breathing under control. Then you finally lifted your head from his chest and kissed him. "I think I'll be okay."
Bradley sat up with you in his lap. "Let's eat something, and then we can feed Rose and get right back in bed. I'll bet I can get your dad to walk Tramp."
The two of you had only been in your bedroom for about twenty minutes, but when you walked back out into the kitchen, it was like a miracle had occurred. There was no mess on the floor. The breast pump appeared as though it had been set up correctly. Your dad was walking back inside with Tramp, already having completed a walk, and your mom was rocking Rose in her arms in the kitchen with four plates of dinner lined up on the counter.
"I hope sandwiches are okay," she said when she spotted you and Bradley. "Just something simple tonight. Tomorrow I'll make spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread."
You took Rose from her and handed the baby to Bradley before throwing your arms around your mom's neck. "Thank you," you whispered, voice shaking with an emotion that wasn't unpleasant. "All of this is really overwhelming."
"We're here to help make it easier. Eat your sandwich."
--------------------------
Having your parents stay for the week seemed to make all the difference in the world. They knew how to handle seemingly everything. When you winced after feeding Rose, your mom mentioned getting some ointment. She made a shopping list and ran to the store, and she even brought back the correct type of coffee. And your dad didn't seem to mind sitting in the nursery in the middle of the night, burping and rocking Rose after you finished feeding her so you could go right back to bed.
In fact, every single thing they did, they did with a smile on their face. They were absolutely loving this. And every so often, Bradley felt a pang of sadness associated with something he would never get to experience.
He was thankful for his in-laws, but he would give anything right now to get to experience his own mom and dad having a visit with Rose. It hurt too much to think about it for more than a few seconds here and there, so he forced himself not to. But you always seemed to have a way of honoring them even when he couldn't come up with one himself, and he was so thankful that you did. When he walked in from work on Wednesday, you were sitting at the kitchen island, pumping your breast milk and typing on your computer.
"Hey, Sweetheart. Where's the Nugget?" Bradley asked as you tipped your head to the side to let him kiss your neck.
"She's outside with my mom," you replied easily. "And my dad is taking a nap upstairs since he was up so much last night."
He hummed as he saw your mom walk across the back patio with Rose in her arms and Tramp following behind them. "What are you working on?"
You sounded calm and relaxed as you said, "Finally getting the hang of the pump. The ointment my mom got is helping so much, and I'm trying to store some of my milk in the fridge to make things easier. Oh, and I'm sending baby pictures to Brenda and the other cousins." 
You turned and kissed him over your shoulder as he looked at your computer screen. There was an adorable collage of photos of Rose as well as a family tree graphic that you made. It had everyone's name on it, including Nick and Carole Bradshaw, with the branches all leading to Rose's name in the middle.
"That's really pretty," he whispered, getting choked up.
"I thought so, too," you said, reaching for his hand. "Maybe we can get a copy printed and hang it by the piano?"
"Yeah. We should do that," he grunted, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. "I'll be back after I say hi to Rosie."
When he walked outside, your mom was telling a very elaborate rendition of the Three Little Pigs to his daughter while she yawned like she was going to fall asleep. "Want me to put her in the nursery so you can take a break?" he asked quietly.
"I've got her," she replied, nodding back toward the house. "Why don't you take your wife out for a few hours? She's been pumping all day, so I can just give this little one a bottle if she gets hungry after her nap."
"Oh," Bradley grunted. It was Wednesday. This used to be Hard Deck night for the two of you. Nobody would expect it, and it might even be fun. "Yeah. Okay." He kissed the top of Rose's head and went back inside, taking you by the hand as you sent the photos and the family tree off in an email.
"What are you doing?" you asked as he led you toward the bedroom. "You want to snuggle?"
"Yes. Always. But right now, we're going out for a few hours."
"Where?"
Bradley smirked. "It's Wednesday."
You gave him a confused look that melted away immediately. "The Hard Deck?"
"Of course."
-----------------------------
The idea of getting out of the house took over your brain and made you feel lighter than air, but the prospect of having to wear real clothes was upsetting to say the least. You knew your jeans wouldn't fit, and just thinking about the tight waistband against your belly made you cringe. You watched Bradley change into the tropical print shirt you got him for Christmas, the one that matched Rosie's, and he looked impossibly handsome.
"I'll be ready to leave when you are," he promised, kissing your cheek as he tucked his wallet into his jeans pocket. "Just let me know, okay?"
Then he rushed from the room, leaving you alone with an entire wardrobe of clothing that made you want to scream. After looking at nearly everything you owned, you settled on black leggings that were a little too big on you before you got pregnant and your oversized red sweater. You carefully got dressed, scared to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, but you needed to put on some makeup.
The finished product wasn't too bad. You looked tired, but so did Bradley. Your outfit mostly hid your weird shape, and you were absolutely craving a beer right now. After this week, you were going to owe your parents big time, but when you went out to the living room, they appeared to be absolutely thriving.
Your dad had a rattle and a crinkle toy in his hands, and Rose was reaching for them while your mom held her. Every time the baby moved an inch, they cheered. You had to stifle your laughter as Bradley came in through the front door with a small bundle of flowers.
"Where did you get those?" you asked him as you leaned down to give Rose a kiss on her cheek.
"From the neighbor's shrub." When you gave him a concerned look, he added, "I asked first! I wanted you to have flowers for date night. I'm pretty sure it's important to keep the magic alive after you have a kid."
The Hard Deck and flowers from a shrub seemed kind of ridiculous for a date, but he was always so sincere. "Thanks, Roo. This is perfect."
He smiled as you put the flowers in the kitchen, and your mom said, "Get a move on, you two. We have everything under control."
You and Bradley were speed walking out to the blue Bronco when you said, "It's like I'm in high school again. I have to get permission from my parents to go out for the night."
Bradley's laughter put an enormous smile on your face as he buckled you in the front seat. He ran his thumb along your cheek and whispered, "You look beautiful," before closing the door. His words left your heart racing, because you knew he meant them. When he backed out of the driveway, he said, "We should stop for pizza on the way there."
It felt like a date early on in your relationship. Sitting in a booth together, constantly holding hands, legs intertwined under the table. Neither of you could stop smiling or laughing, and Bradley still had no shame when it came to inhaling slice after slice of pizza. The best part was when he pulled a bottle of the hot sauce you made in Mexico out of his pocket and set it on the table.
"Oh my goodness!" you gasped, carefully covering your slice in it so you didn't actually waste any. "You win husband of the year, once again."
"I wonder if Rose will like hot sauce," he mused before folding up a slice and eating it in three bites. 
"She better," you replied, moaning in delight. "If she knows what's good for her."
Bradley devoured the last slice when you pushed it toward him. "Let's go fuck up the Hard Deck, Sweetheart."
--------------------------------
"Mom and Dad are here!"
Bradley groaned when Natasha announced his arrival to everyone in the bar, but you just laughed and snuggled against his side when he slung his arm over your shoulders. Within seconds, the two of you were stopped in your tracks as the usual crowd and a few others came over to offer congratulations and say hello. And a few minutes after that, both of you were holding two drinks.
"Where's my goddaughter?" Jake called over the music, and Bradley pursed his lips.
"She's our designated driver," he replied. "She's waiting in the Bronco."
The aviators laughed as you shook your head and said, "My parents are visiting for the week. They insisted we go out and have a good time."
"So you came to the Hard Deck?" Reuben asked, leaning in to give you a hug. "Rooster, take your wife and the mother of your child somewhere nicer next time."
You were laughing as hard as everyone else now, as Bradley groaned and looked at the ceiling. "I used to like it here," he said as Nat pulled both of you in for a bear hug.
And that was when the two of you were saved from being the center of attention by an even more exciting arrival.
"He's back!"
Bradley turned in time to see Bob walking in, holding Maria's hand. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his glasses were a little crooked, and Bradley could tell instantly why they were just getting to the bar now even if the aircraft carrier docked this afternoon. At least they hadn't broken up over the deployment. 
Maria shook her hand free and made a beeline toward you. "Oh my god, I can't believe you're here! When can I come see the baby?"
"Any time," you replied. "I'll be home for weeks."
She kissed your cheek before giving Bradley a quick hug, too. "I'll bring Cam with me one night. And you should come to brunch this weekend or next weekend. You can bring Rose!"
Bradley cringed a bit at the idea of his tiny daughter being around a bunch of loud, germy strangers in a restaurant. "Or... she can just stay at home with me while you enjoy yourselves," he told you and Maria.
"Sure, Roo," you replied, stroking your fingers along his cheek. "Yeah, I'll make sure I get to brunch one of these weekends."
Bradley watched you converse with Maria, and then the two of you talked to a very overwhelmed looking Bob who also asked about the baby. And Bradley swore you only sipped at your beers, but you were starting to look a little tipsy.
"You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked, trying not to laugh as you danced around completely off the beat of the music playing on the jukebox.
"Yeah," you told him, smiling over your shoulder. You were so fucking adorable, it was unbelievable. "But my boobs are starting to get uncomfy. I'm going to need some relief soon." You turned to face him as you ran your hands along your chest, and even with that sweater on, his imagination took over.
His cock was already reporting for duty as he rasped, "You want me to take you home so Rose can nurse and make you feel better?"
You kind of shrugged in response as you took a step closer to him, still touching yourself. "Well, I've been drinking alcohol, so if we go home, I'll have to pump instead and then dump it down the drain."
"Fuck," Bradley groaned as you reached for his hand and brought it up to your chest in the middle of the Hard Deck. "I don't think you should be wasting that."
You smiled and asked, "Back seat of the Bronco then?" 
When he just nodded at you like an idiot, you hooked your index finger through one of his belt loops and dragged him around, erection and all, to say goodbye to everyone. His jeans were not his friend at the moment. Not with the prospect of your tits leaking milk filling his mind. Once you had him outside, your lips were all over his.
"You make everything so much better, Bradley," you whispered against his mouth as your fingers tangled in his hair. "Literally everything."
"I love you so much. Fuck," he moaned as you cupped him through his jeans. Someone else was exiting the bar now, but he didn't have the wherewithal to tell you to stop. He didn't want you to stop. "Come on, Baby Girl," he said, ushering you to the promised solitude of the backseat.
--------------------------
You were so horny. You couldn't even fathom what was going on with your hormones that you were mostly in tears on Monday and desperate for an orgasm tonight. Straddling Bradley's lap in the back of the Bronco was nothing new for you, but you were a little concerned about the way your body looked. 
"Holy fucking hell, you're so hot," he groaned, inching your sweater up and pulling it over your head. He was looking at you like you were a million dollar lottery prize with your stretched out belly and your nursing bra. He ran his hands up your hips to your waist, and he looked you in the eye as he said, "You're stunning."
Okay. Well, he could have anything he wanted. You unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor as you ground yourself against his erection. He hissed in response before bringing his hands up to your tits and giving them a little squeeze. You were already leaking milk, and Bradley was whimpering softly as he dragged his nose along the curve of one breast and then the other before tasting you.
"Roo," you gasped. His lips and mustache were needy and rough, and you couldn't stop yourself from rubbing your pussy against him. He looked up at you as he sucked on your nipple, and you played with his hair as you asked, "Do you like this?" He nodded before teasing you with his tongue and sucking more of your breast into his mouth. "I'm so horny," you moaned.
He released you. "I want to fuck the absolute shit out of you right now. Do you have any idea?" He started kissing your other nipple as he guided your hips so you were flush against the fly of his jeans. "I want you to get yourself off, Baby Girl," he rasped. "I know you can do it."
You had no shame, head tossed back, whining his name as he wrapped his perfect lips around your other nipple and helped himself. You could feel the outline of the head of his cock through his jeans. He was hard. So hard. And he felt good against your clit. You had to be soaking through your cotton underwear and leggings, but he kept guiding your hips closer and closer.
"Do it," he coaxed softly, running his mustache along your nipple.
You were about to tell him that your body felt so different, you weren't even sure if you'd be able to get off or if it would even feel good. But the words froze in your throat as Bradley parted his lips to taste you again, and you felt yourself gush into his mouth.
"Oh my god," you whispered, maybe a little embarrassed that you had no control over your own body. His eyes went wide as he lapped up your breast milk, and you arched your back as you came on his cock through his jeans, grabbing his hair and the Bronco ceiling for control. You were shaking all over, keening loudly, convinced someone in the parking lot must have heard you by now. You didn't even care. This orgasm was insanely good, and it kept going as you panted and squirmed.
Your breasts were damp to the night air, and you knew it had to be some combination of your milk and Bradley's saliva cooling on your skin as you shivered against his body. His arms were wrapped around you as you rocked slowly before finally coming to a stop.
"Feel good?" he asked between little kisses to your chest.
"Incredible," you moaned. "Holy shit, Roo."
"Yeah," he agreed breathlessly. "Me too."
You noticed he wasn't as hard now, and you took his chin in your palm, guiding his gaze to meet yours. "Did you cum?"
"In my jeans," he confirmed with a nod. "I can't handle how fucking perfect you are." You felt powerful as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. "You literally made me cum in my pants, Sweetheart."
You gave him a soft kiss. "And you didn't even break the center console."
--------------------------------
BG is definitely struggling a little bit with her postpartum body. Roo is struggling in a different way. There's a lot on the horizon, including angst, but if there's something you'd love to read about this family, let me know! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 19
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sugary-daydreams3 · 29 days ago
Text
Quiet inbetween [Sukuna x Reader]
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Summary: Collections of quiet, cozy, intimate moments you share with Sukuna, who thinks you two won't last a year. Someone who used to live a wild, fast-paced, loud lifestyle couldn't possibly be fit for a long-term relationship. But he doesn't know that you're the one he needed this whole time.
Word Count: 3.7K words
Rating: Mostly fluff with a little spice (sexual content) at the end, but no full explicit content. Mostly T with a little M.
A/N: Happy holidays y'all. This might be my last fic posted in the year so I hope you guys transition into the new year safely. Goodness, do I love writing my A.U. version of Sukuna. So fun and flirty that he makes me blush sometimes and I control what he says. But I guess that's a good thing, right. Sadly my next fic is dealing with a not so fun topic, haha. (It's Gojo-centric, so you might know where I'm going with this) Anyways, stay safe out there and I'll see you again in 2025. Enough yapping from me, enjoy!
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Normal, quiet moments tend to bring discomfort within Sukuna. Dating trouble as a teen limited his time to sit and enjoy the small pleasures of life. He was all about the grand, overwhelming, taboo pleasures that one wouldn’t dare chase but rather daydream about. Or worse, make simulation games about and live out their guilty pleasures vicariously through fictional characters. But with taboo pleasures come consequences which landed him in jail for some time.  
Within the year after his release, he met you which slowly inspired him to alter his fast, vicious lifestyle. You introduced him to things he never would have found himself participating in. Things he used to tease his twin brother for being a sheep for society for. A mom-and-pop coffee shop was one of them.  
“How do you drink this shit?” Sukuna sticks out his tongue. Tanned liquid trapped in your mouth almost spills. Air blows from your nose, signifying your amusement at Sukuna’s first experience with coffee.  
Swallowing down the first sip of your coffee, your eyes admire Sukuna’s childlike distaste for your go-to morning beverage. “Because I order mine with cream, sugar, and caramel. You’re pretty much drinking burnt black water.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”   
You give him a “really?” look. “I said you should start out with the caramel Frappuccino but you said, and I quote.” You notch your voice down several pitches lower. “The hell I look like drinking that sissy shit.”  
“You could have recommended me any other drink but this. This was a terrible first impression.”  
“I can order you another one to make up for it.”  
Sukuna pouts. “I’ll pass. I fear I’ll be disappointed again.”  
“Sukuna, you just drink straight black coffee, you can’t write the whole thing off just because you had one variation of it. That’s like saying “I hate potatoes” because you ate unsalted, lukewarm fries.” Sukuna scrunches his face.  
“That’s not the same.”  
“Yes, it is. It’s a perfect comparison.”  
“It’s two completely different scenarios. You really thought you schooled me with that, huh.”  
“Shut up. I’m ordering you a new drink.”  
Waiting for his redemption cup, Sukuna stares at you typing away on your laptop computer. Your hair curtains over part of your face, tempting Sukuna to reach over and fix it. Yet the messy hair curtain highlights your beauty so effortlessly, he couldn’t stop adoring your natural radiance.  
The strong smell of roast occasionally makes its mark. Ranges of chatter mingle with the loud cycle of brewing and baking. Quirky, cheesy posters hang all over, providing a drowning sense of positivity and relatability. Generic chill music slithers through the atmosphere, failing to chill Sukuna’s social anxiety. Thankfully, his new drink just came to save the moment.  
Taking a drink from the flat white laced with sugar and cream, he sits back to allow his brain to register. His eyebrows raise with a small smack of his mouth, giving you some hope that coffee redeemed itself on the oh so great Sukuna’s tastebuds.   
“Well?” You ask impatiently.  
“Not bad. Could use more sugar but it’s drinkable.” Sukuna reviews. A pleased smile killed your worry. “I’m glad you gave it a second chance. I hope we can have more coffee dates like this.”  
Sukuna narrows his eyes. “This is a date?”   
Your eyes roll. “No this is a job interview.”  
“I’m not one for customer service but if I get to look at you all day long and the pay is good then sign me up.” You hate that something as corny as that made you blush.  
“Hush Sukuna, of course this is a date. This is like our twelfth time seeing each other, I like to think all of the time we spent together so far wasn't a waste of time.”  
“Ooh someone’s no-nonsense.” Sukuna smirks, large arms crossed.  
You sigh, “I’m just over the hookups and the flings. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t just one-and-done me.”  
“Eh, all of the one-night conquests and strictly sex ordeals were starting to get stale. You got a nice face with a body to match. You’re on no bullshit and are fun for the most part. You haven't bored me yet so I don’t mind continuing this.”  
“Yet?”  
“I tend to get bored with my women so I wouldn't hold hope of this lasting past a year. Just letting you know so the heartbreak will hurt a little less.”  
You smirk, amused by his lack of filter. “Well, a year will be record breaking compared to my recent relationships these last few years. So bring it.”  
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Your polished nails navigate the grassy fields of dusty pink, natural hair oil inked on your fingertips. Your poor thighs are weighed down under his dumbbells for arms. Your other hand caress Sukuna’s right bicep, fixating on the jet black tattoos contrasting with his pale skin. He rubs your left knee as he rests against your stomach.  
Sukuna releases a deep sigh, letting go of the temporary stresses of life. He’ll rather die than admit it but this is what he mostly looks forward to when he goes about his day. It took him a while to get used to you being positioned behind him, often side eyeing the first few times you two were like this.   
Call it trust issues. Slam the non-medical diagnosis of PTSD resulted from a rough upbringing and life as a criminal. Or if we’re really getting psychological, throw out the fancy “internalized misanthropy” word. Re-fucking-gardless, he’s always been highly aware and on guard whenever people are in close proximity to him, ever since he was a kid.  
Now, the more he allows himself to turn his brain off in your lap the easier you hear him lightly snoring within several minutes. You giggle as his resting figure emits loud snores thirty minutes in of scalp scratching and head caressing.   
“Sweet dreams.” You reach down to peck warmth on his forehead.  
Your wishes go unnoticed as child-like ease warps itself across face tattoos and a sharp jawline. A surprisingly dynamic clash.  
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Your laughter saturates the kitchen space accompanied by music from the vintage radio. Flour dressed your behemoth all over, making it the sight of the century. Sukuna frowns as he attempts to smooth the pizza dough with the rolling pin. Tears edge your eyes; the catastrophe he was causing was funnier than any standup comedy.  
“Hush. You're breaking my focus.” Sukuna was struggling to knead the dough enough to be a thin foundation. It usually ends up shaping to be a deep dish or just a regular sized pizza. This was his third effort to mold the pizza, with two “epic failures” baking in the oven.  
When your laughter demoted to light chuckles, you rub his arm for support. “You know I can help you shape the dough. It took me fifteen tries before making an objectively decent pizza.” Sukuna shakes his head.  
“That’s because you were the one making it. It’s gonna be perfect this time.” Sukuna smooths out the dough and smirks at his “perfectly” thin pizza. You roll your eyes and walk over to gather the cheese and other toppings.  
The pizza rises within the oven, gluing the toppings within the cheese. Sukuna watches it carefully from the kitchen island, like his life depended on whether this Thursday night dinner was great or not.   
A marathon of T.V. commercial ramblings was bugging background noise as you tidied up. The other two pizzas sat on the cooling rack, being forgotten tasty mistakes. Flour ages his hair many decades, snowing down his chest with every tiny movement. He turns to see an unlikely troublemaker look down at him, a small hill of flour ready to be thrown from your palm. Sukuna narrows his eyes with a challenging look.  
“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling.”  
“Game on.” You threw it, igniting a two-man war.  
The remaining time for the perfect pizza to cook filled with flour fights, spotting majority of the kitchen with white powder. The cooking timer goes off as you two lay across the table exchanging flour and zeal between prolonged smooches.
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This epic fantasy was seducing your imagination during the mundane hours of the late evening. You sense Sukuna spying on you and your book from the corner of your eye. However, the clever arrangement of words trailing above your bookmark helps you ignore him.  
“How do you read these things? That shit looks bigger than The Bible.” Sukuna pokes at the spine of your novel, trailing over the gold-engrained lettering.  
“I don’t judge stories based on length. If it’s engaging enough then I wouldn’t mind reading three hundred-plus pages of something.”  
“Where do you find the time to invest in a story that long?” Sukuna wasn’t even teasing at this point; he was genuinely curious.  
“People watch 10 seasons worth of television or animes with more than 100 episodes.”  
“Watching TV and reading are different no matter how much you try to make them feel the same. I can simply turn on the T.V. and watch 100 episodes of something without exerting much energy. You have to sit up, read so many words, and decipher hundreds of pages worth of story. It’s not the same.”  
“True, I’ll give you that. I just find it funny that people draw the line at consuming a story through reading only because you have to put a little more effort in it.” You bounced back.  
Sukuna rubbed his chin. “I remember being into poetry and haikus a lot as a teenager. But I started getting involved in other shit so I lost interest along the way.”   
You snap to him, no longer being a silent witness to a passionate kissing scene. “You like poetry?”  
“I suppose. I always liked how poets managed to craft thoughts so elegantly. Perfectly describing the complicated or unsaid.”  
“You know the local bookstore down the street has a whole section of poetry books. What’s your favorite poets? I could buy you some of their latest work.” Your comforter became a temporary bookmark with your book lying face down.  
“Hmm, I don’t really have a favorite poet. I used to buy a bunch of random poetry or haiku books and kept the ones that stuck with me. There is one writer that I really like though...”  
You wait in anticipation as you witness him in thought. Simple things like racking his brain makes him a cutie. Sukuna snaps his fingers.  
“Ahh, Yosa Takahama is his name. His work is usually written in Japanese but some translators re-publish them in their mother’s tongue. His work is hard to find around here though. I don’t even know how I managed to snag one of his books in the first place.”  
Despite the challenge, you were determined to get it for him. “I’ll figure out a way to get you one. That way we could be reading buddies.”  
“You don’t have to do all of that, doll. You’ll rip your hair out trying to find those books. I’m fine watching you ignore me in favor of a book that can knock your teeth out.” You chuckle.  
During the rest of the night, you noticed the boredom on Sukuna’s face as he mindlessly consumes television. The least you can do is try to hunt down this haiku book for him. Dating him for some time, he confessed to losing touch with so many hobbies he grew up with over the last few years. You wanted to bring that inner child back to life, killed by proving to the world how tough he was.  
Getting him to read something that actually interests him can be another way to embrace the innocent pleasures in life. You can tell he misses that wild delinquency some days, but you hope he doesn’t miss it enough to end this relationship over. If you can find it, hopefully it can be a building block that rebuilds his new path after leaving the old behind. Anything to help you be closer to him.  
6 weeks later 
Sukuna emerges from the bathroom. The odors of the food he cooked from his restaurant today were replaced with standard soap and his natural scent. Like every other night, you sat with your book, seemingly ignoring Sukuna’s lingering stare.  
After dressing himself, he sinks on the mattress and attempts to lay against his pillow. His thick neck isn't met with the soft cushion but instead a hard surface in the middle area. He stares at his pillow, offended for it not providing comfort, so he lifts it up. A white hardcover book reveals.  
“What’s this?” He asked, not turning to you yet. You shift from the words to your boyfriend’s confusion. “I don’t know where that came from. Maybe the book fairy paid you a visit.” You played dumb.  
“You’re so corny.” He holds up the book.  
“A corny girl you’ve been dating for almost a year now.”  
“Quiet. I’m trying to see what this is.” Sukuna didn’t even examine the title, the pages of the book flutter until he lands on a random page. He reads aloud.  
“Vindictive winter / A white, mighty rabbit looks / betrayed by the king / ...wait.” Sukuna looks at you and you copy his shocked expression.  
“This is Yosa Takahama’s stuff. How did you even get this? This must have cost you a fortune.”  
“It was costly and took me weeks to find a readable copy but the look on your face right now makes it worth it. I wanted you to read with me instead of being a T.V. zombie. Even if that means reading mind fuckery haikus.” You chuckle.  
Sukuna grabs your waist from the side and unleashes many wet pecks around your cheek, neck, and upper chest. You giggle as you brush his hair and hug him back.  
“I appreciate it.”  
“No big deal.” You replicate his cool cat version of “You’re welcome.” that he usually throws at you. Sukuna smirks at the playful imitation.  
The rest of the evening is spent with you two lost in your own worlds of literature. Your brains mixed imagination, broadened perspectives, and emotional intelligence from honeyed words inked against the white.
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“I’m too big for this tub. You barely have any room to stretch your legs.” Sukuna commented.  
He adjusted his position behind you, the bubbles shifting from his large body. Your feet rested on the tip of the tub to keep from smushing against the porcelain. You turn to him, offering a reassuring smile. He snickers at your ridiculous face mask, particularly the cucumbers concealing your eyes.  
“No, you’re not. You say that every time you get in with me. You’re fine Kuna, really.”  
Sukuna rests his arms around the top edges of the tub, leaning back to make himself comfortable in his slightly cramped soak. The warm water, Epsom salt, and meditation music playing from your phone kneads away the hidden tension that plagues his body from the everyday.  
“Before I met you, I haven't taken a bath in almost fifteen years.” He confesses.  
“That sounds so disgusting out of context.” You cringe. Sukuna chuckles.   
“You know what I mean.”  
“I can’t imagine going that long without a bath. Baths are way better than showers.” You admitted.  
“Showers are for a quick wash. Baths are more for relaxation.”  
“I shower for fifteen minutes minimum, thirty-five minutes max. I spend about three minutes just letting the hot water hit my body and think about whatever. There’s no way I can just shower for ten minutes or less.”  
“Is that why you’re so smoking.” Sukuna flirted. You shake your head, “That was so corny, Kuna. C’mon you can flirt better than that.”  
“You’re right. I just wanted to see your reaction.”   
You two enjoy each other’s company. The heat protects you from winter and the sheet of bubbles float around and pop within. Sukuna arms lay over yours, rubbing over your wrist. Sukuna focuses on your face and develops a sense of mischief.  
“Babydoll.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Turn around for me.”  
You quirk a brow but obeyed by slowly turning his way. In a swift motion, Sukuna moves forward and bites off the cucumber sitting on your right eye. Your right vision sees Sukuna munching on your edible eye mask.  
“Really, Kuna? You couldn’t resist temptation to eat that?” You scolded. You take off the other cucumber, abandoning your hopes to keep your eyelids nice and fresh. Sukuna steals the other cucumber from your hand and flings it in his mouth.  
“You’re impossible to relax with sometimes.”  
“Thanks for the snack.” Sukuna mumbles through chewing.  
You sigh then lay against his chest and close your eyes. If he was going to interrupt your beauty routine the least he can do is be your pillow.
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Sukuna big toe hugs your own after caressing your right foot. Both of your feet poke out from the thick blanket, suffering from the gentle lashes of the nippy air condition. You rest your head on his squishy but firm chest, goosebumps forming from his rough hands brushing your skin.   
“We should light the fireplace.” You suggested.  
Sukuna let out a lazy sigh, “What you really mean is that I should light it.”  
“Yeah, you should.”  
“I could but I fear I’ll turn into a popsicle.”  
You giggle. “Hey, at least you’ll taste good.”  
Sukuna smirks, “I already taste good. You should know out of anyone.”  
You playfully shrug. “Eh, you’re alright. No fine dining though.”  
“Oh really?”  
“Yep.”  
“How about you taste this then.”  
Sukuna leans down and traps your lips in the moment. His lips were smaller than yours yet they managed to govern the heat stirring between each lingering kiss. The frigid air in the room is forgotten in your minds as you and Sukuna make out under the grey blanket. After a couple minutes of sensual touching and lip pulls, Sukuna goes for your neck.  
“Well?” Sukuna lands soft bites inches under your chin.  
“I was just kidding earlier but that was...”  
“Better than fine dining?”  
“I don’t know what’s better than fine dining but, yeah, better than that.”  
Sukuna chuckles, “Glad to remind you.”  
Sukuna “accidentally” lands a hard bite just above your collarbone, caging a pleasured groan within closed lips. Sukuna kisses the forming red patch, “Sorry baby, got a little greedy there.”  
“I hope I give you a brain freeze.” You joked, trying to take your mind off the aching spot.  
Sukuna hooks his finger around the side of your silk underwear, his other hand slowly appreciates your ass. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”
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Your body slowly rocks on top of him, the yellow and orange from the fireplace illuminate your dips and curves. The aftershocks of your second orgasm calm down, giving you the signal to stop riding him. One hand caresses the trimmed hairs sprinkled across Sukuna’s chest. The other traces the small gold chain decorating his pecs. Sukuna squeezes the body fat from your hips then pats your left butt cheek.  
You hop off and lay down on the blanket you set down for your second round. Sukuna pulls off the condom and gets up to throw it away. The contained fire warms your naked body from a distance, defending you from the army of white cold. You hum while the fire entertains you until Sukuna comes back. He’s wearing the boxers he had on earlier with the embroidered knife patterns. Where he got those kinds of boxers you may never know.  
Sukuna drops the pillow he stole from the couch then sits down on the blanket. He pulls you towards him and you two lie down together. You perform his signature trait, pushing his hair back, enabling his wild look. Sukuna traces your spine, quietly admiring both how strong and weak one’s bone structure could be.  
“I never thought I would enjoy silly things like sitting in front of a fireplace during winter.”  
“It’s silly?”  
“Not really. I guess I just associated this with Christmas activities. Christmas always seemed too cheesy to me so I associated things like this as silly holiday stuff.”  
“Yeah, I get it. Sex in front of the fireplace, just silly wholesome Christmas activities.” You joked. You instantly felt Sukuna’s laughter rumble throughout his chest. After calming down he gives your arm a light pinch.  
“You know what I mean.”  
“I’m just happy you allowed me to bring some mellow in your life. I remember when I met you, you were always in some crazy illegal trouble. It seemed like I could barely keep up with you and your fast-paced lifestyle.”  
“Yeah, it was fun for a while, I’ll admit. Even getting caught had some sort of thrill. Now that I’m pushing thirty, I just feel over it.”  
You chuckle, “Not a spring chicken as you used to be.”  
“Yeah. I suppose every hot shot has their limit.”  
“Well, I’m proud that you’re beginning to settle down. I know your brother is too.” You rub his cheek.  
“I was surprised when he offered to help me set up my fight clubhouse. He’s usually against violence and shit.”  
“Maybe he thought that it would be a nice distraction from your life with crime. Even if it meant supporting you doing something he also doesn’t like. Like a lesser of two evils kind of thing.”  
“I never knew someone so predictable yet unpredictable at the same time more than him.” Sukuna said. You giggle then sprawl your hands across Sukuna’s abdomen, trailing over the ridges in a playful matter. Sukuna tender gaze studies your features as he softly pulls little cushions of your skin.  
“Thank you for sticking with me.”  
You look up to see the wild orange shadowing his strong features. His usual too cool-for-school attitude was replaced with a loving nature only reserved for you. A nature molded by small, seemingly insignificant moments sparked by a mutual agreement of casual dating. You plant a few kisses against his jawline then lay back on his chest.  
Before your eyes close for the night, you slur a few words that gets a smile out of Sukuna. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”  
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heli-writes · 10 months ago
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A dragon's heart, part 6.
Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader
Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.
Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of dead animals, gutting and skinning of animals, mentions of chopping (animal) meat
[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Series Masterlist
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Y/n managed to stay up the entire night. She almost dozed off at dawn but a particularly loud crack next to their campsite startled her. Turns out it was just a small animal but it was enough to get her heart pumping that she stayed up for the rest of the night.
Katsuki wakes up later than usual. Y/n waited for him to stir until she got up and started to heat some water.
Katsuki sits up and rubs his face. His back aches and his leg still feels like it got, well stabbed. He watches y/n prepare some tea. When she walks over to him with two cups, he notices the dark circle under her eyes.
“You look like shit.“, he tells her. Y/n looks up with tired eyes and just hands him his cup. “Did you sleep last night?“, he asks with furrowed eyes. Y/n takes a sip from her tea.
Katsuki sighs. It's starting to annoy him that she doesn't understand him. Maybe he should teach her his language soon. At least a little bit.
“We need to get food for today.“, he tells her. Y/n states into her cup. She really feels the sleepless night. Katsuki watches her and starts to feel concerned. Y/n definitely needs to lie down.
They sit in silence for a while. Eventually, y/n gets up and gets the medicine bag. Katsuki finishes his tea as y/n gets ready to take a look at his wound.
Carefully, she unwraps the bandages on his leg and inspects the wound. The skin around the stitches is red and irritated but not infected. That's good, y/n thinks. She cleans her hand with some alcohol and smears some more rash cream into the wound. Then, she uses fresh bandages to wrap his leg up again.
When she looks up, she is met with Katsuki's ruby-red eyes. He's been watching her treat his wound intently. Her fingertips felt soft against his skin. She works a lot more carefully than the healers from his tribe. Of course, he can handle a more rough handling but it feels nice the way y/n does it.
“You need to take a nap.“, he tells her sternly. He starts to get up to make space for her on the bedroll. Alerted, y/n looks up and raises her hands. “No! You need to stay down or you will rip your stitches!“, she exclaims.
Katsuki swats her hands away and stands up on wobbly legs. Y/n quickly gets up and stabilizes him. Again, Katsuki swats at her and points at her and then at the bedroll. “Lay down!“, he commands.
Y/n watches Katsuki limp towards his dragon. He pats the lizard's neck and grumbles something into its ear. The heavy lizard rises up and starts flopping its wings. The rush of air almost makes Katsuki fall onto his butt if it weren't for y/n rushing over to him. Together, they watch the dragon disappear in the sky.
Nervously, y/n starts bombarding him with questions. “Where is he going? Will he come back? Why did you send him away?“, she rambles. Katsuki silences her with a swing of his hand. “You.“, he points at her. “Bedroll.“, he continues pointing at the bedroll. Then, he grabs her arms and pulls her towards it.
Reluctantly, y/n follows. Katsuki flops down next to the bedroll and points at the bedroll. Uncertainly, y/n sits down on the cushion. Katsuki gives her an angry look. “Down!“, he orders and puts a hand on her head pushing it down. At first, y/n resists but eventually, she caves. There's no point in arguing with Katsuki. He pulls his cape over her.
She looks up at him with wide eyes. “Don't look at me like that.“, Katsuki mumbles and ruffles her hair. “Sleep!“, he tells her. “Sleep?“, y/n repeats carefully. Her pronunciation is a bit off, but it's a good try, Katsuki thinks. He nods. “Yes, sleep!“, he repeats and mimics sleeping with his hands and eyes. He makes a snoring sound. With closed eyes, he hears y/n giggle. He opens his eyes again and gives her a lopsided grin. Y/n looks up at him with warm but tired eyes.
“Sleep.“, y/n mumbles in his language as she turns away from him pulling his cape over her shoulders.
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Y/n wakes up a few hours later not feeling a lot better than before. She misses her foldable matress and her warm tent. Sleeping on the ground in the open air is not giving her the most restfull kind of sleep. She stretches and her joints make an unhealthy crackling sound.
Katsuki is sitting next to her. Y/n isn't sure if he moved or if he sat beside her the entire time. Part of her hopes he didn't. She really doesn't want to redo all the stitches just because Katsuki can't sit still.
"Mornin' princess.", Katsuki says and gives her a small grin. Y/n sits up. The air is cool around her and she instinctively rubs her arms. Katsuki reaches out to her and touches the side of her arm as if he were checking her temperature. Instinctively, y/n leans into his touch. Katsuki's so warm.
The loud flopping of wings rips both of them out of their thoughts. The dragon lands next to them and drops a dead deer in front of them.
„Appetizing.“, y/n comments dryly. Katsuki snickers. He may not understand exactly what she said, but he gets the sentiment in her voice and face. Chuckling, he ruffles through her hair and limps over to the deer. Upon inspection, he's sure that his dragon tracked down the flock Katsuki was hunting.
Katsuki takes his hunting knife and starts gutting and skinning the animal. He watches y/n's mimic while doing so. Y/n is surprisingly unfazed by the sight and eventually starts to build a fire. Katsuki cuts the animal into almost even parts. Smaller ones for him and y/n, the largest portion for his dragon.
„Y/n!“, he calls out to her and waves her towards him. Y/n follows suit and walks over to Katsuki who is standing with about Ÿ of a deer next to the dragon. He chops off a huge part of the leg and holds it out to her.
„What am I supposed to do with this?“, y/n asks and crooks her head. Katsuki takes an equally large piece of meat and holds it out to the dragon which immediately grabs it out of Katsuki's hand with its snout. Katsuki then points at y/n and at the dragon.
„Me? I don't know...“, y/n says reluctantly. She had seen enough of the dragon's teeth when she gave him the tea a while back. „Don't be a pussy.“, Katsuki says challenging but with a crooked grin on his face. He snaps his finger and points at the dragon that watches y/n already expectantly.
Y/n hesitates for a moment, then steps a bit forward holding the meat towards the dragon with a wide-stretched arm. The dragon snaps at the meat and y/n can hear the bones in it crunching. Somehow it makes her really proud she was courageous enough to do it. She squeaks and almost jumps into Katsuki's arms who lets out a booming laugh.
„You little shit!“, he laughs and ruffles her hair again. Y/n looks up at him and gives him a big grin. Katsuki's aware of the impression of his dragon. Most people are instinctively scared by the beast and that rightfully so. He's never seen one of the other women his men brought home to get even close to their tribe's dragons. They usually stay in their mate's tents. It's rare they ever leave their accommodation and if they do, they're an eery sight. At least in Katsuki's opinion.
He's ripped out of his thoughts when he sees y/n reaching out to the dragon with an outstretched hand. „Hey!“, Katsuki warns and grabs her hands. At that moment, the dragon snaps at her. If it weren't for Katsuki, y/n's hand would be dragon food right now. „It's not a pet. They're proud beings. You can't just touch them without their permission.“, Katsuki tries to explain. Y/n looks a bit embarrassed. The dragon watches y/n with a wary expression in its eyes.
Y/n bows her head low in front of the dragon and mumbles an apology. Katsuki isn't sure whether he finds that impressive or hilarious. It's clear that it's an action of respect. It's also a stupid idea to lower your head in front of a dragon. It can get you beheaded. The dragon lets out a puff and turns his head away in disinterest. Seems like it has forgiven y/n for her foolish action.
„C'mon, time to fry this meat.“, Katsuki says and pulls her with him.
They roast the meat over the open fire and eat their meal in silence. Afterward, Katsuki and y/n sit by the fire for a while. Y/n takes the sewing kit from the medicine bag and starts mending Katsuki's ripped pants. Katsuki pokes the ember in the fire and watches y/n with a side-eye. He notices how y/n works quick and precise, just as she did when she stitched up his wound. He wonders if she is a seamstress. However, her clothes do not look like those of a seamstress. It's not the latest fashion in the kingdom. Actually, Katsuki isn't too sure what kind of fashion she's wearing. Not that he keeps up with the kingdom's latest trends anyway. Nevertheless, he's never seen a woman in the villages he passed through in clothes like these. He starts to wonder if y/n is even a citizen of the kingdom.
His conclusions actually aren't far off. As a wandering folk, y/n's people were not subjects of the Todoroki royals. They wander from kingdom to kingdom. Y/n spent most of her life in the Todoroki kingdom because simply it's the most safe. The harsh leadership of King Enji keeps crime levels on the low.
When y/n is done stitching up the pants, she wanders to the lake and washes the splutters of blood out of the fabric as much as she can. After hanging the pants up and a tree branch, she settles back down next to Katsuki. She feels tired again.
Suddenly, Katsuki puts an arm around her and pulls her closer without looking at her. Y/n shivers. Suddenly she notices how cold it has gotten. She leans her head against his shoulder and Katsuki leans his head against hers. Y/n has to admit she likes the proximity. She's been alone for so long, it's just nice to have someone so close. She also has to admit that she trusts Katsuki. From all the stories she had heard, she expected Katsuki to take her after her wounds started to heal.
Right now, she can't imagine Katsuki doing something violating like that. He's no gentleman by all means but he accepts boundaries. That's something she can live with. Plus, it's not like she's a lady. She can feel herself grow more tired with each passing second. She scooches closer to Katsuki. Almost, she didn't notice how Katsuki started running his hand up and down her arm or how he nuzzled his face into her hair.
Even if Katsuki would never admit it, he likes the proximity too. Y/n's warm and soft and her hair smells good. Living in a world of men, the smell of a woman is something Katsuki learned to miss. When he notices how y/n's head starts falling off his shoulder, he pulls her into his lap. Y/n stirs for a moment, then settles into his chest. Katsuki ignores the pain in his leg as y/n's weight presses onto the wound.
Katsuki will have to return soon. Tomorrow, he will try to shoot that stag one last time. Feeling y/n's soft breathing on his skin, Katsuki already decided what to do with her. He's taking her home with him. He's not sure what to do with her then. He kind of doesn't want one of his men to take her on as their mate but he's also not sure whether he wants to make this kind of commitment after just a couple of days or not. And then there's also his mother.
He wonders what y/n will think about this. So far, she hasn't shown any real attempts to part with him. Does she really have nobody to return to? It seems like it. But is she alright with joining his tribe? Maybe even staying with him? At least for a little while?
Y/n nuzzles her face into Katsuki's collarbone and lets out a deep sigh. Katsuki pulls the bedroll over to them. He lifts himself and y/n onto it and pulls his cape over both of them. He leans back and lets y/n snooze on top of him. He holds her by the waist and keeps stroking over her back.
Katsuki watches up at the nightsky contemplating the same questions over again until his eyes feel too heavy to keep them open.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tag list: @graviewaviee @cosmicbreathe @tsukikoxo @nnubee @witchbishsblog @elajede @bsallergy @frxcless @berryvioo @eyesforbkg @shamelesjaroflaffytaffy @pastelbaby1111 @iamlizardgod @plvt0fvtvre @hello-peanutdoodle-blog @guccirosegold @kookiemyfeelsposts @sweetblueworm @54fangirl @sakurarr1122 @rv19 @leeliyah @king-dynamight @confused-smol-fan @xmaudx @waterstarz @pinkwhiskerglitter @adeline96 @zoom1374 @fingui @giuli-in-earth @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @futuristicallykawaiiturtle @tragedyofabrokensoul @dynakats @rebel-loves-anime @cloudxluv @itsssyagurll @sunshineandwitchery @cloudxluv @hollykanuki @atouchofmidnight @nutellaenjoyer @musicbecky @miacitocco @cassouandco @penguinlovestowrite @sleepykittycx @bakugouswh0r3 @xxjesshuxx @helenamaximoff @ssssssws-world @k1tk4tkatsuki @gh0stgirl333 @anon-mouse223 @bexxs @i-am-ms-rebel-heart @wannabeisekai @spragaraga @faemagic88 @kolakoke @faetoraa @cax-per @willy-the-witch @stardream14 @jiyuu-da @mintytalesblog @sparklyoperaroadpie @musicbecky @maria-patricia @mistermemister @katsukismrs @l0kisbitch @bakukiriswife
[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]
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tiredcreatur3 · 2 years ago
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middle aged toji fucking his son’s girlfriend cuz he’s a fucking scumbag of a father and obviously, who wouldn’t wanna fuck a tight lil pussy like that, even the more when you’ve been so so obviously teasing him ever since megumi introduced you to each other.
-
toji’s son, your boyfriend was already asleep on the couch after he decided that he should maybe start visiting his father more often now that he moved away after college and toji lived alone in such a big house.
you couldn’t sleep so you decided to go and get a glass of water in the kitchen, just wearing your boyfriend’s shirt and nothing else because you’ve already visited few times and felt safe enough to do so, panties sticking out as the shirt barely reached the bottom of your ass.
you almost gasped out loud but definitely jumped up a little once you heard your boyfriend’s dad’s deep voice, blushing a little bit as he stood right behind you to get something from the upper cupboard above you.
“ ‘gumi’s asleep?” he asked quietly and you let out a soft ‘yes sir’, taking a sip of your water.
you had to admit that he turned you on, made your panties drenched and tummy all tight. he towered above you, wide shoulders practically hiding you completely and oh, his gaze really did something to you. he was a really attractive guy but from what megumi told you, he was quite the piece of shit yet you couldn’t help but admire him any time you saw him.
obviously, you noticed how he’s been staring at you ever since you and his son become a couple. never touched you, never said anything. just hungry tired eyes staring you up and down whenever you two visited. and maybe, just maybe you enjoyed that and teased him and all, leaving your panties there few times and acting so so surprised when you’d never get them back. or acting like the sweetest little girl ever around him which oh, that was his weak spot.
and honestly, you don’t know how toji’s cock found its way into your cute little mouth few minutes later after a short small talk at 2 am in the morning, kneeling down like the good girl he knew you were, sucking his big fat cock as he rested back against the kitchen counter, his poor dick finally getting some attention, head lolling back few times as oh, you had such a little mouth that he was afraid to even fuck it but god, you knew how to work it so goddamn well.
he stared down at you with those soft hungry eyes of his, always seeming like he hasn’t slept in days, hair quite messy from probably rolling around in bed, sweatpants pooling at his ankles, tank top slightly rolled up as you sucked, bobbing your head and keeping eye contact with the older.
you whined a little bit, slurping at his cock as you used your hands as well, nodding your head after he shushed you, knowing that in the room next to the kitchen was your boyfriend soundly asleep.
he soon pulled you away and lifted you up on the counter no problem, not even realizing how light you were but god, it did something to him definitely. along with your soft hips and tummy, tits resting prettily under your shirt, nipples hard and prominent through the fabric. such a pretty little thing.
you immediately pulled your legs apart, he didn’t even have to say nothing, making him almost wanna chuckle, how dirty a sweet face like yours could be. he hooked two of his fingers under your underwear and pulled it aside, revealing your puffy wet clit, which was so hard not to notice and not to play with, the older rubbing at the little nub with his thumb as you sighed shakily which cause the male to use his other hand to shut you up.
“be a good girl and don’t wake your boyfriend up, yeah?” he rasped out to you in a low voice and you nodded your head, wanting to listen to him and be a good little girl, staying dead silent even though you were shaking, toji’s fingers all sticky and wet with your juices after stuffing that tight cunnie of yours with two of ‘em.
and oh, you couldn’t wait any longer, you just really really needed it, that tight coil in your lower tummy so so annoying, staring at the male the whole time as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your entrance, knowing he was after a vasectomy so there was nothing to worry about.
you inched your hips slowly closer to him, practically melting and falling apart on his cock once he began to fuck you, leaving you practically stunned and dumb founded, starry fucked out eyes watching the older male as he rolled his hips into your wet slimy mess of a cunt.
“that’s a good girl, shit..” he whispered out, abs flexing whenever he pulled out almost all the way and could feel how tight you were around him.
your mouth was still covered which you were glad for, shaky little pants leaving you still, your boyfriend’s father basically destroying you on his dick, making you forget everything and anything you’ve ever known except for pleasure.
he knew you’ve been innocently teasing him, testing the waters, how much he could handle and withstand and oh, he wanted you to learn a lesson not to do that or this would happen.
his other hand caressed your body, resting on your to your thigh and eventually going back to stroking your clit, so so puffy and red like the rest of your messy cunt as he fucked you nice and deep.
maybe even few more times, bending you over against the counter, practically lifting you off the ground whenever he’d hold your hips, watching how hard it’d be for you to keep your mouth shut.
maybe, just maybe, even fucking you for the third time, letting you hug him and hold onto him like a tick as he’d rut his hips into your soapy cunt already filled with two of his loads and you yourself having came a bunch already.
and then letting you waddle back to your boyfriend’s arms, legs all wobbly and cunt full of his seed, all messy and trembly after fucking you nice and good to warn you what happens when you tease him for too long before going out for a quick cig.
not like it was of any help because this was definitely worth the teasing in your opinion.
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kaisfruit · 1 year ago
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Hello love! I love your posts so much and I was wondering if I could request a Cole smut one shot? I mean, I saw your head canons and you said you could go on for longer, girl please do!??
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Starved | Cole x Fem!Reader
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A/N; I DONT KNOW U TWO, BUT U TWO ANONS MWAH !!! I LOVE U GUYS! i wanted to go so in depth w cole cuz i am unbelievably attrracted to that man i aint afraid to admit it. also, neither of yall specified BUT! im going w fem!reader since u both came from the fem!reader hcs <3
warnings; nsfw under the cut <3, cunnilingus, size kink, pussy drunk cole, unprotected p in v (pls wrap it b4 u tap it yall), probably some typos/grammar mistakes cuz i am way too scared to ask anyone to read this beforehand, and uhh i think that's it!
word count; 4.4k (i may have gotten a bit carried away im sorry yall)
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Dinner was a favorite time amongst the ninja. It was time to unwind, to have fun, and enjoy each other's company. You had been chatting idly to Lloyd, who sat to your right, for a majority of the time. He was a bit quieter compared to some of the others (full shade to Jay, Kai, Cole, and Nya) and it seemed as if the mundane practice of just a normal conversation was a great relaxer for the green ninja, so he was definitely one of your preferred dinner companions. That didn’t mean there wasn’t chaos going on around you guys. Jay, who was to your left, seemed to be in a full shouting argument with Kai who sat directly across from the blue ninja. The topic of their angry musings was unknown to you, but Lloyd kept making commentary on it every now and again which you would happily add onto.
Across from you sat Cole, then to his left was Nya, and the head of the table was occupied by Zane while opposite him on the other end sat Pixal. Zane seemed content to exist in the company of all of you, only chiming in when he felt like it was needed, but he and Nya were definitely whispering jokes to each other every now again between bites of their food. Pixal, you noticed, was actually jokingly joining in on Kai and Jay’s argument. She would add in one point that was completely absurd and it would cause the other two to blow up again. That robot could be devious when she really wanted to be.
Then there was Cole. You were surprised that he wasn’t also a part of the argument, but you suppose the topic of
maybe devil worship? You weren’t sure, but still, whatever it was didn’t seem to interest the earth ninja. To be fair, you knew the other was prone to getting entranced into whatever he was eating at the moment and Zane had done wonderfully with tonight’s dinner (as he always did) so it was understandable really. 
“And, yeah, I don’t know. I just don’t really understand why I’ve always got to be doing something.” Lloyd finished his story up and you nodded along, having listened intently the entire time. 
“I don’t know either man,” you shrugged as you took a sip of your water, “your shit is always getting rocked one way or another.” That caused a slight snort of amusement to exit the green ninja. “I mean, I would’ve already changed my government name and gone into hiding if I were in your shoes.”
Lloyd let out a sigh. “That’s the dream. I don’t know if I could do all of that. Couldn’t leave you guys behind at all. That’d suck big time. Ninjago should just get its shit together so we can have some slice of life anime lives.” You nodded enthusiastically at that idea.
“Ooo yeah. And then we could have like fun drama like
what outfit am I going to wear tomorrow or oh no my hair is so bad!” 
“Yes! You’re getting it.” Lloyd grinned. “I think I should get a cat.” His mind wandered constantly, so you were only slightly jarred by the sudden conversation change. “I’ve heard that their purrs do some sort of healing and I could for sure use some of that.”
“I think we’d all like having a cat around.” You added on. “They’re sort of independent, so it would be a good pet for our lifestyle.”
Lloyd was about to respond to you, y’know how conversations work, when all of a sudden Jay slammed his palms onto the table as the “argument” had escalated. It caused the table to shake and before you could stop it your water glass had fallen down and drenched your shirt. You let out a loud gasp which quickly caught the attention of everyone.
“Oh my God, [name], I’m so sorry!” Jay began profusely apologizing, scrambling about the table to find some napkins. Kai was howling with laughter just happy to not be the one who fucked something up. Lloyd was a bit in shock, Zane and Nya had both gotten up to grab some towels from the kitchen with Pixal not far behind, and Cole seemed to be frozen. You were too caught up in the water seeping through your clothes to notice, but the ninja sat opposite you seemed to have his eyes locked onto you, his body tense.
“Jay, it’s fine.” You quickly reassured as you stood up, Cole’s eyes following the movement carefully, “I’ll just go get changed. It’s no big deal.” You tried giving the blue ninja a comforting smile, but you could tell the guilt was already eating him alive and it’d be hard to get him out of that state for a while. You’d try again later, you decided.
Letting those who had left to the kitchen know where you were going, you made your way to your room with your arms held awkwardly in the air so that the weird feeling of the wet fabric wouldn’t be sticking to your skin too bad. Before you could forget, you made a quick stop by the bathroom in order to grab a towel from the cabinet.
Finally having made it to your room, you were quick to tug your shirt off and throw it somewhere on the floor. A sigh of relief left your lips as you began to dry off your top half with the previously acquired towel. With a frown, you removed your bra as well since the water had made it to that garment too and once you were sure your skin felt dry you dropped the towel onto your bed and you made your way to your closet.
You were bent over getting into your dresser looking for a new bra when you heard a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” You called over your shoulder, still digging around in the dresser. 
“Uhhh Cole! Is it okay if I come in?”
“I’m sort of changing right now!”
“I won’t look!”
You huffed out a laugh at that. It was sort of indecent to let him in when you were like that, but he did promise not to look. But what if he did? That thought caused your cheeks to heat up a bit. To be completely honest, you were almost entirely head over heels for the earth ninja. The only reason you didn’t choose to spend every dinner chatting to him is because you knew part of you would slip up and embarrass yourself in one way or another. Not to say he didn’t do his fair share of embarrassing himself, but you found that endearing. He’d probably think you were weird and off putting if you were to just slip up randomly. 
“Fiiinneeee!” You agreed against your better judgment. “No peeking!”
You could hear a chuckle rumble from the man as the faint sound of the door clicking open hit your ears. Chancing a glance behind you, you smiled fondly at the sight of Cole with his hands over his eyes as he shut the door behind him. He stood completely still after that too scared to make his way to a place to sit with him completely blind like that.
“Soooo, what’s up?” You finally asked, trying to not get irritated at the fact that you couldn’t seem to find another bra in your dresser.
“I just wanted to check in on you.” Cole answered, his voice strained. “I’ll gladly beat Jay up for you. Swear.” That had you giggling.
“You’d beat Jay up over anything.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re just looking for an excuse to.”
“Nuh uh.”
“You can take a seat, y’know.” You changed the topic, about damn near close to giving up and just going braless (you wouldn’t actually. It sounded comfortable, but you didn’t want to expose yourself like that.)
Cole cleared his throat slightly. “No way! I’d totally bump into like a shelf or something!! All of your shit would be broken and then I’d have to beat myself up after beating up Jay!”
Another laugh escaped you at that. Was all of it made funnier by the fact that it was Cole? Maybe. Afterwards, you went silent as your mind began racing. This could be your chance? Would he think it’s weird?
“Hey, I,” you bit your lip in a pause, “I don’t mind if you open your eyes
” You finally spoke, getting ready to just laugh it off like it was just a joke. What a prankster you are!
Cole seemed to go oddly silent after you said that and you were sweating bullets. The tension that filled the room was suffocating. Quickly, you snapped up with your back still to Cole. That action was followed by the sound of footsteps almost as if the other ninja had begun walking closer.
You were about ready to apologize profusely when Cole’s low voice broke the silence, “can I ask you something, [name]?”
“Anything
” You murmured, still facing the other way.
“Can Iïżœïżœâ€ There was a pause, an eerily similar pause to the one you had earlier. He was hesitant as he seemed to be fighting some inner battle.
Without thinking, you quickly turned around not caring about your current topless situation and you pulled Cole down in order to plant a fierce kiss to his lips. You were about to apologize for your impulsivity and how you should’ve asked first and not assumed, but Cole’s hands came to rest on your waist and he let out a low groan as he melted into the kiss.
You weren’t small by any means, but it was making your knees weak at the feeling of his hands just absolutely dwarfing your waist. Those hands pulled you closer to where your chest was pressed against him and the feeling of the bulge in his pants against your hips caused you to gasp which he took advantage of and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You let out a small whine at the action, but quickly reciprocated even if you let him have control of the kiss.
Eventually, the need for air arose and you reluctantly parted with him, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. His eyes searched yours, as if something in your gaze held the answer to every question he had ever asked, as his hands slowly wandered to the area beneath your ass. After a bit of panting between the two of you, the kiss quickly resumed and he lifted you up easily causing your stomach to do flips. You wrapped both of your legs around his back and took appreciation in the new angle as it was much easier than having him lean down as much as he was.
The kiss broke as his lips began trailing downward. A shiver ran down your spine at the sensation of his lips on your neck and your breath hitched as he lightly nipped and sucked at the skin there.
“You’re gorgeous
” He breathed against your neck.
Between your harsh intakes of breath, you eventually got out, “Cole, I need you.” Which caused another low groan to escape him.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about hearing that come from your lips.” Cole had begun walking over to your bed and gently sat you down atop it as he crawled on top of you. He had barely even done anything, but you already felt like your brain was turning into mush. The sight of his body hovering over yours is something you’ve only ever dreamed about and you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together. That movement caught his attention, but he had to pace himself. Make sure everything was alright with you. You were operating at hyperspeed, however, and began reaching to the hem of his shirt. That didn’t go unnoticed by him either and he was quick to yank the material up and over his head. He flung the shirt onto the floor of your room as you laid there, stunned, at the sight of his body.
Cole was, well you knew he was big, but he was beefy. Clearly, he was muscular, but he had some chubbiness going for him as well and, God, you don’t know if you’ve ever needed anyone more. He was perfect. You started to sit up so that you could absolutely just feel him up, but he didn’t let you get up. Instead, he ran his hands down your stomach towards your shorts. You looked at him confused and he just leaned in close, his breath fanning across your ear.
“I want to make this about you.” His hands had successfully unbuttoned and zipped down your shorts. “Call me selfish, but I need to make you feel good. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t treat you like the finest piece of cake in the damn bakery?” To many, that’d be a cause for laughter, but knowing Cole, that meant everything. He slowly pulled away from your ear and you couldn’t help but look at him with the purest look of adoration after that. Even in a situation as intimate as this, he still managed to get the butterflies in your stomach to go haywire.
Cole slowly slid your shorts down your legs and off of your body. They probably ended up somewhere near where his shirt did. His eyes were transfixed at the wet spot that had formed on your underwear and he found himself subconsciously licking his lips. You, on the other hand, were staring at him with anticipation wondering what his next move would be. Gingerly, his hands came to rest on your waist and you shivered. His thumbs hooked into the last garment you had on, but he paused to look up at you. His eyes were searching yours once more.
“Is this okay?” He finally asked, his voice soft. Your enthusiastic nod put him into action and he quickly slid your panties off of your legs.
Cole could’ve sworn he was fucking salivating at the sight of your core fully exposed to him. He placed his hands underneath your knees and used that position to spread your legs open for ease of access. Knowing he still had his pants on, you were curious to what his current plan was until your eyes widened as you watched his head lower to rest between your thighs. Your face was flushed red and you could feel yourself trembling slightly. What he was about to do was just so
intimate? It felt more like a once the relationship has officially started activity, but it seems he wasn’t even kidding when he said he’d treat you like cake. Was he trying to ruin you for anyone else? (As if you’d want anyone else.)
The breath was knocked out of you as he took one small lick of you. You could’ve sworn you heard a noise escape him as well, but you weren’t given time to even think as he instantly dove back in. He had started eating you out like a man starved. His tongue moved along your pussy masterfully, making careful movements along your clit which caused punctuated whines to escape your mouth. You couldn’t help but reach a hand down to rest on the back of his head which he seemed to enjoy. Cole then made his tongue flatten out in order to lap up as much of your juices as possible. As if this wasn’t enough to get his fill, his tongue finally plunged into your hole and a gasp left your lips that slowly morphed into a low moan. This man was eating you up and you’re pretty sure your mind was completely gone by this point. What was your name? Who cares? Cole was giving you pleasure you had never experienced before and that’s literally all that mattered at this point. If your head wasn’t so far up in the clouds, you probably would’ve noticed that Cole was grinding up against the bed as he ate you out. 
Your grip tightened in Cole’s hair and a moan left his lips which seemed to vibrate along your cunt. 
“C-Cole–” His name was but a mere whimper along your lips and it only encouraged him to move his mouth against you faster. You felt the knot in your stomach twist up as your peak approached. You were practically grinding up against his tongue which Cole enjoyed immensely. He could not get enough and it rewarded him as you practically exploded all over his tongue. He was licking up as much of your climax as he could as you were still shaking in post-orgasmic bliss. Your vision felt blurry at the continued stimulation that carried you down from your high and you were faintly aware of the moans and whimpers making their way out of your throat.
Honestly, you had expected him to stop, but even one orgasm wasn’t enough to satisfy him. Cole was still lost in the taste of your pussy. You felt a bit of pain flare up at the overstimulation and you were trying to gently pull at his hair.
“Cole,” you whimpered, “h
hurts.” That fell on deaf ears as he just continued on. You thought he hadn’t heard you, but a shit eating look was sent your way and you knew he was trying to work you up. 
“Just one more.” He growled along your folds as he moved up to suck on your clit which caused a jolt to travel through your body. It seems as if he had enough of your trembles as his arms came up to rest on your thighs. The position still keeping your legs spread, but his strength kept your lower half still as he continued his ‘feast’. Your moans and whines had definitely picked up in pace at this moment as the pain began to border on pleasure.
Your second orgasm came much faster.
He licked it up just as enthusiastically as he did the first time. You think he probably would’ve tried to keep going for a third time if you didn’t forcefully pull him up this time. There was a sheen of your slick that shined around Cole’s mouth and you looked away slightly in embarrassment. Cole, meanwhile, was licking around his mouth trying to get whatever he had missed. 
Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you attempted to catch your breath after all of that. The shifting of Cole’s body was what finally caught your attention. The ninja was moving himself from above your body to your side and it looked as if he was moving to lay down next to you. All signs of lethargy left your body as you quickly sat up and rested a hand on his chest. Cole stared at you with a tilt of his head, the confusion bubbling within him evident.
“What about you?” You asked, still breathing a bit heavy.
“What about me?” Cole replied a bit dumbly.
“You know
” You muttered, a tad bit embarrassed, but you rested a hand over his painfully hard bulge in his pants. The feeling caused him to shiver and he looked down, realization dawning on him.
“Oh, it’s okay.” He said, picking your hand up and removing it from his crotch. “I said I just wanted to take care of you, right?”
“Yeah you did,” you started, “but I said I need you, didn’t I?” Cole nodded slowly, but a small frown was still on his face.
“Aren’t you tired?”
A sigh left your mouth. “A little, BUT.” You emphasized, noticing how he had opened his mouth to speak after you said that. “God damnit Cole. No way am I going to finally get you into my bed just to have you not dick me down. I don’t care how sensitive I am, I need you to fuck me.” You could barely believe what you had just said, but it got the job done. Albeit a bit slowly.
“...Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you
”
“I have never been more fucking sure in my life.”
Seeing as he wasn’t moving, you lunged over to him to begin slipping his basketball shorts down. Noticing your haste, Cole finally started taking initiative. If it’s what you wanted then he just had to give it. With a better method, Cole slipped off his shorts and boxers off together in one swift motion. And, boy, did he not disappoint. EVERY part of him was big, you had just found out. Saliva pooled up in your mouth at the sight of his cock as you couldn’t take your size off of it. If you weren’t so needy, you probably would’ve taken him into your mouth right then and there, but Cole already had a hand on your shoulder forcing you to lay back down as he positioned himself right above you again.
Your pussy was definitely still slick from the mix of your own arousal and Cole’s saliva and he ran a finger between your folds before shoving it into you. His tongue hadn’t been as thick as his finger, but it still wasn’t much to adjust to. The second finger proved to be more filling and your breath was once again escaping in huffs. 
It took a bit until Cole had either thought you ready or just gotten impatient, but he pulled his fingers out of you and lined his dick up with your entrance. A pause. You were about ready to complain until the breath was taken swiftly from your lungs as he slowly pushed in. As he slid in further and further, the more your breaths turned into short moans. It felt as if he filled absolutely every part of you and it was addicting. The stretch hurt, but it was so deliciously overpowered by the pleasure of him finally being inside you. Though, Cole still didn’t even attempt to move until you gave him the go ahead.
From there, he started at a slow but deep pace. It was a sensual experience. Above you, Cole was letting out little huffs and groans at the feeling of your walls around his member. He could explode right then and there if he wanted to. But, he continued at this pace of almost completely removing himself from your hole before pushing balls deep back in. It was excruciating.
“F..fa
faster.” You panted at him. And who would he be if he denied you this request?
The sound of skin slapping skin echoed around the room as Cole slowly began picking up the pace. His hips were pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace, and you think you finally understood the phrasing of “being fucked stupid.”
Every push in had you moaning loudly. It was either moans or a broken moan of Cole’s name which made him go in a bit harder every time you did that. His head hung low until it was resting in the crook of your neck. The groans and low moans that were leaving the man only turned you on more and you about screamed his name when he bit into your neck. There were no thoughts of anyone here at the monastery hearing you two, as far as you cared, you and Cole were the only people in Ninjago at this point. All of your senses seemed to be completely filled by the man anyways.
The feeling of his licking, sucking, and biting along your neck combined with his rough abuse of your pussy brought you close to your third climax of the night which might be a record for you.
“C-Cole, I’m-I’m close.” You whined, your voice barely audible over the sound of him fucking you.
“God, me too.” He moaned against your neck. Cole was determined to not let go until you had, so he reached a hand down to start playing with your clit as he continued fucking into you. That absolutely sent you over the edge and you screamed as you came all over Cole’s cock. He continued thrusting into you throughout your orgasm which only made it feel that much better. His hips began stuttering in their movements and he was quick to pull himself out of the vice grip your pussy had on him. Cole wrapped a hand around his cock and jerked himself off the rest of the way until his cum started landing on your stomach. He let out tiny grunts as he fucked into his hand a bit before letting go.
You made sure he was looking at you when you scooped up some of his release and licked it off your fingers. He really had to save that image for the next time he masterbated.
Before he even allowed himself to lay down next to you, Cole carefully got up and reached for the towel you had used earlier to dry yourself off and used it to wipe his release off of your stomach, a small ‘sorry’ leaving his mouth as he did so. He was cute. 
Finally, his body dropped harshly at your side and you giggled tiredly at him. Cole rolled over to look at you and you held your arms open, a silent question for him to come cuddle you. 
His strong arms wrapped around your body and you rested your head on his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat. Cole found where your covers started and threw them over the both of you which only made you snuggle in even closer to him.
You two sat there in silence for so long, just catching your breaths, that you nearly fell asleep.
“Hey, [name].” You startled at the sound of his voice. A non-committal ‘hm?’ is what you hummed in response and he just rested his nose on the top of your head in your hair. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”
A content sigh left your lips and you sleepily looked up, causing him to remove his head from its place. “Of course, Cole.” One of your hands slipped out from under the covers and cradled one of his cheeks. You leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on the other cheek. 
“Now, let’s get some sleep. We can talk about the details later.” You said through a yawn and he just smiled at you fondly. You both returned to your previous positions and slowly drifted off, and for once, neither of you felt fear or dread for what was to come in the future.
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angelicblondie · 5 months ago
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this is a diff anon, but i would loveee a step-cest luke fic. luke spoiling his new pretty little step sister jus to watch her parade around her little pink outfits when they come back from the mall. starting off innocently w just buying her relatively modest clothing, books, or makeup/skincare until she uses him to buy other things like micro miniskirts n victoria’s secret panties n shit. and obvs luke needs a reward for buying all her shit n carrying her bags and half-sipped drink for five hours at the mall, and what better way than a little fashion show until luke gets handsy ? (love ur luke characterization girl, plus im so obsessed w ur tumblr theme oml)
aww tysm angel đŸ€đŸ„č that means sooo much <333 i love this idea so so much oml.
warnings ~ stepcest, manhandling/groping (MDNI)
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luke liked to think of himself as a good guy. he helped his elder neighbors with their groceries, he helped his mom cook dinner all the time, he even volunteered at homeless shelters every now and then. he had constantly been praised for being a stand up man.
but there was nothing good about how he acted when it came to you.
initially he wasn't fond of the idea of his moms new boyfriend coming into their life, especially with his daughter who was a few years his junior - he quite like it just being his mom and him, he liked being the man of the house. so when you and your dad came in to the picture, it took a bit of warming up.
of course he was ever the gentleman, helping the two of you move in when things got serious between your folks, and conversing politely when your dad. luke admittedly wanted to stay away from you at first - he was worried your parents would want the two of you to act like siblings, and he wasn't looking for a little sister. luckily though, that problem was rectified the first night you moved into his and his mom house.
it was late at night, and luke had gotten up to go to the bathroom. he tugged on the door in the hallway and frowned when it wouldn't open. he huffed in annoyance. great. he couldn't even use the bathroom in his own house now. he heard the sound of running water before the door eventually opened, and he had to look down slightly to take in your appearance.
there was a slight blush on your cheeks, and you were wearing the tiniest pajamas luke had seen. "sorry," you rush out. "i just had to brush my teeth, its yours now." you felt quite flustered by lukes appearance, given he was only wearing basketball shorts and his torso was bare - you had never really been exposed to anyone like that.
luke remembered chuckling. "its fine, kid, g'night."
you mumbled back the words with a sweet smile, and turned around to go back to your room. luke eyes followed your retreating figure, his eyes dropping down to the fullness of your perky ass as you walked away. he swallowed, looking down at his pants. he had a boner - shocker.
from then on he had developed what could only be described as a crush - he was always watching you, always wanting to please and spoil you, always wanting to look good for you - he was obsessed. of course your parents were thrilled, simply writing it off as the two of you bonding and strengthening your new family. luke let them believe this, whilst in his heart, he knew the truth.
luke wanted to win you over, so he did the one thing he thought of - spoiling you rotten. it started off with him buying you a new book you had been blabbering about at dinner one night, and when you had asked the reason for the supposedly impromptu gift, he has causally resounded that he wanted you to feel welcome in his home. you had been beyond grateful, pushing up on your toes to wrap you arms around his neck, body flush against his. he winced, knowing his cock was hardening by the second.
god, he was pathetic.
he then began to give you just about anything she wanted - it was hard to say no to you, not when your eyes got all wide and excited, smile so hopeful - he would have to be a monster to reject that.
you had begged luke to take you to the mall all morning, and whilst luke led you to believe he didn't want to go, of course he did. he could never pass up on any extra time with you, especially alone. by the time you had explored the mall, luke had multiple of your shopping bags hanging off his arms and your cold wet iced coffee in his hand as you walked free of the burden. he didn't mind it though, enjoying the view of your prancing around giddily to buy more and more things.
you had acted bashful when you saw something you like, pretending like you didn't long for it out of fear of wasting lukes money. like when walked by the isabel marant, you had spotted a pair of boots in the window that were divine, your eyes widened in awe, but you looked away after a moment, knowing the shoes must've been very expensive.
luke had noticed your gaze and nudged you, slowing down. "wanna go in?" he asked.
you bite your lip in contemplation but shake your head. "no, no, its ok, i was just looking."
he scoffs a bit, amusment dancing in his eyes, coming to a full stop. "none of that, kid. if you want something from in there just tell me, y'know i'll get it."
you insisted that it was fine, but luke wasn't having it. he dragged you in the store, forcing you to show him what you were looking at. he didnt even look at the price tag, immediately grabbing them and bringing them to the register.
and it was worth every dime spent to see how excited you got, pracially jumping on him once you got out of the store. he himself felt like he got something each time he had the satisfaction of swiping his card.
he usually was so well behaved, really. he only really touched you when you touched him first, he had gone out of his way to not make any overtly sexual comments. but today, he couldn't hold back his flirty comments or his wandering hands, because he had you all to himself.
"your ass would look great in those jeans."
"shit, if i was at a party and saw you in that-"
"that skirts short, so maybe just for home, kid."
it felt natural, and it wasn't like you didn't like it - no, you love it! you blushed bashfully each time, either thanking him sweetly, or hitting his lightly, fauxly scolding him for his raunchiness.
he couldn't help himself, he was nearing his last straw by the time you were at your second to last store. he was in the waiting room, scrolling through his phone when you shoved your curtain to the side, walking past him to stand in front of the mirror. he looked up at you and blinked, taking in your appearance.
immediate boner. like, immediate.
you had on a micro mini skirt, seriously, he wasn't sure you could even consider it a skirt, thats how tiny it was. it just barely covered the fat of your ass, and he was sure if you bent over even slightly you would be completely revealed.
"shit, you sure that isnt a headband or something?" he chuckled, his wors coming out nonchalnt but trust me, he was very chalant.
you rolled your eyes turning around to face him. "isn't it cute?" you had asked, swaying your hips jokingly.
he laughed, and thanked god for the pillows on the couch he was sitting on that was currently placed on his lap. "its adorable, lemme see up close."
he beckconed you closer, pretending to ciritcally look at the fabric. he hands were placed on your love handles, taking advanted of the oppurtunity to touch you. "very cute, kid. you gonna let me buy this for you?"
of course you said yes, and you walked out of the store along with different variations of the skirt, and luke couldn't have been happier.
by the time the two of you got home, lukes excitement had gone through the roof. he knew you would propose to do what you always do after a day of shopping - a little fashion show. so the two of you went upstairs to your room, and you closed the door of the closet, bringing all your bags in with you.
luke waited patiently for you to dress each time, and it was worth it when you came out, a big smile on your lips as you show off each new article of clothing, coming over to press big kisses on his cheek. he would place his hands right under you ass as you gave him a hug, holding firmly on the skin. it was impossible not to touch you, not when you looked like that.
so for the sake of the fashion show, lukes hands roamed your body in the name of "feeling the fabric" and "making sure everything fit right", which was of course was perfect excuse to feel up the curves and contours of you body.
once it reached the end, you came out of the closset in what luke could only describe as something from his dreams, and what could only be from the victorias secret store.
he thought it was wrong that something as sweet and innocent as you was in something so sexy, but boy did it get him going. you were wearing a read lacy matching set, and it complemented your body perfectly. it pushed up your tits ever so slightly, causing them to jiggle anytime you moved. the thong of the panties showed off your plump ass, and you turned around in the mirror, keeping your eyes on your body as you decide.
"what do you think? it feels a bit much, no?"
luke breathes out a laugh. "wow, kid, y'look great." he compliments, and you blush. "really? i feel silly," you admit, looking at yourself again in the mirror.
luke shakes his head, standing up and slowly walking up behind you. "nuh-uh. y'look really hot. like, really hot."
you blush harder, hiding you face in your hands. "luuuke," you whine shyly, and he just chuckled, grabbing your wrists. "what, shy all the sudden? after dragging me around all day and makin me pay for your shit?"
you pout a bit. "but you insisted!"
"i know, but still, i think i deserve some compensation, no?" he taunts a bit, as his hands come up to your waist.
his hands on your body made you feel hot. "what kind of compensation?" you ask, your voice growing quiet.
he sighs. "y'see kid, you got me a little worked up," he says, montioning down to his hard-on. your eyes widen as you follow his movement, lips parting in shock. "and really, it isnt my fault - i cant control it. if anything, its you fault. you've been showing off all day and i cant help it. but, if you really want to make it up to me, you'll help me relieve some of the pressure. how does that sound?"
of course you agree, wanting to do anything to please luke, so not long after your bent over, yours hands on the bed as luke stands behind you, his palms engulfing the globes on your backside, squeezing delicately yet firmly. "shiiiiiit. no idea how long i've been thinkin' bout this," he whispers against your ear, hands sliding to your waist. your breaths are shaky, and you feel the wettness pull in your brand new panties. "luke..." you whisper, hands wrapping around his wrists. "isn't this bad?"
luke pauses, and formulates his answer. sure, it wasnt morally good, or ethical, but it wasnt that bad. "no, its not. m'not your actual brother, and we're both adults. promise your not being bad," he whispers his response, his hands sliding up to lewdly fondle your tits.
your back is now against his chest as he continues to feel you up, and your head is laid back on his shoulder. he places the most delicate kisses on your exposed neck, never sucking (though all he wanted to do was mark up and bruise your perfect skin). you let out the quietest of whimpers, but too bad for you that your lips were right up against lukes ear.
luke tilts his head, hands travelling down your torso as his lips meet your ear. "feels good?" he asks, voice quiet and teasing.
you nod, hiding your face in his neck, hands deathgripping his wrists wherever he went.
he knew you had never been touched like this, it was obvious the way you seemed aflame by his simple touches and gropes. he knew that he couldnt just stick his dick in you, oh no, he had to play the long game.
he had to warm you up to the idea. you still seemed hesitant, worried about doing the wrong thing, worried about your parents finding out - becasuse you were a good girl. he knew it would take more than a little groping session to make you his, so he slowly pulled away, leaving you wanting more.
luke was playing the long game, and it wouldn't take long before he had you right where he wanted you.
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distantdarlings · 1 year ago
Text
BY THE FIREPLACE (PT. 4) // t. nott
RATING: R / 2.3K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader
+ SUMMARY - *Requested* In an attempt to forget about the events of the last few days, you try to relax yourself as best you can. You pull a book and some tea down to the common room but are shocked to see that Theo had the same idea.
+ WARNINGS - Language, sensuality (described in mind), nothing else really
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
affection - BETWEEN FRIENDS
*sorry for the short chapter
- - -
You awoke early the next morning. Much earlier than normal. The small clock sat on the desk beside your bed barely had its big hand brushing the four. There was little to no light outside. You pulled your hand to your face to rub some of the sleep out of your eyes.
The only sounds around you were the occasional soft snores from your roommates and a deep rumbling in your stomach. Shit. You must have fallen asleep last night without eating anything. You raised your arms above your head and coaxed a few cracks out of your spine before slipping out of bed. The green, fur-lined slippers lay right beside the head of your bed, waiting patiently for you to sleep your feet in.
You were no longer tired and didn’t feel like laying in bed until classes started, trying to urge yourself back to sleep. You figured you could catch up on some personal reading and have a mug of tea.
Beneath your bed, was a small wicker basket your mother had made for you on your eleventh birthday. It was intricately woven with two pastel ribbons secured on either handle. You loved it dearly and it had held many things as you grew up. At the moment, it held a large assortment of teas and a small kettle that you could hang over the fire in the common room. You knelt down and retrieved the items, deciding on a nice rose and lavender blend.
You gathered the things together, slipped the book you were currently reading into your arms, and made for the common room. At 4 o’clock in the morning, where the sun was not even up, you were expecting few students, if any, to be occupying the room. You were hoping for none.
The common room was always pleasantly splashed in moonlight around this time of the morning. Its cool rays showed through the water just outside the windows and bathed everything in the whiteness. Everything except for the warm fire in the middle of the room. You waltzed over to one of the plush couches, not seeing anyone else around—thank Merlin.
Wandlessly, you conjured some water, watching as it filled your small kettle. You hang it on the fireplace hanger and collapse into the couch, propping your book open. It had been over a day since you’d last read—some fiction about a knight’s journey dealing with the PTSD of his position—and you wondered if you even remembered what had happened the last few chapters. Your eyes found the small words on the page and let yourself fall into the story.
After a few minutes, the kettle began to whistle. You marked your place in the book and tossed it to the cushion beside you. You wanted to get the kettle off the flame before it started screaming and waking up the whole Slytherin house.
You wrapped your hands in your night robe and slipped the kettle away from the fire. With a whispered incantation, your favorite mug from under your bed appeared on the side table. You poured the steaming water into it and watched as the steam poured over the lip of the cup, its billowing moisture brushing against your bare legs.
Once you’d allowed the tea to steep and it had cooled, you became comfortable once again, leaning against the edge of the couch’s arm, sipping your tea every once in a while. It really was a good book. You’d almost found yourself forgetting about the ridiculous events of yesterday.
Until
.you sigh. Out of the corner of your eye, a pair of legs appear coming down the stairs to the male dormitory, then a chest, then a face. A particularly difficult pair of eyes met yours. You all but groaned and rolled your eyes. You could not believe it.
“Hey,” he said, a small chuckle coming out of his mouth. It was awkward and the silence that followed it was somehow worse.
“Uh, hey?” You knew he was just talking to you now because he felt just as weird as you did—at least, that’s what you assumed. Before, he never went out of his way to acknowledge you, now

No one spoke for at least a minute, the both of you just stared at one another, briefly found the other’s eyes, then quickly glanced away again.
“Well don’t let me interrupt you, I was just passing through,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of the plaid pajama pants he was wearing. Your eyes followed him as he began to walk towards one of the bookcases in the corner. He wore a black tank top that showed off his muscular arms beautifully. Your line of vision traced the thick vein that wrapped around his arm, curled down his wrist, and disappeared with his hands in his pants pocket. The pajama pants sat low on his waist and framed the sharp edge of his hip bones. You watched closely as he contemplated the options on the shelves before him.
His eyes caught something interesting. He raised up on his tip toes and lifted his arm to grab it. The tank top slid up his stomach, revealing the strong line of muscle that traveled from below his ribs and down to what lay beneath his waistband. The band of his undergarments traveled briefly over his hips. Fuck. He looked absolutely edible.
You shake that thought off and turn your head back to your book, forcing yourself to focus on the words before you. Surely, this was a normal feeling. It was just natural hormones forcing you to look for a mate. This was simply Mother Nature taking its course. Completely ordinary.
But Merlin, the way he had looked at you when he’d come down the stairs. His eyes, so dark and wanting, glancing over you in your too-big night robe and your ratty shorts. You felt like the most desirable thing in the world with the way he looked at you. Maybe you were just imagining it, but he looked as though he wanted to devour every inch of you.
Your fingers scraped over the book’s pages, letting the light scratch of the parchment control your thoughts. Intrusive ones that you indulged for just a moment before realizing what a weakness it was. Ones that gripped your hips and bit your chest and traced your thighs.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” His voice appeared behind you suddenly. You jumped at his abruptness.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine, Nott, take a seat wherever you’d like,” you sighed, trying once again to refocus yourself. But as he traveled over to the love seat at the far end of the rug probably no more than ten feet from you, you couldn’t help but glance up over the pages every so often.
You watched as he made himself comfortable, legs spread wide open with one ankle resting on the other knee, one hand against the arm of the chair propping his head up, the book balanced against his raised leg, and a strong arm coming up every once and a while to flip the page. As he launched himself further into the story, he began to fidget a bit. His thumb and forefinger pinching his bottom lip, the knot in his throat sliding up and down as he swallowed, his hips readjusting themselves, sliding them slowly against the cushion and—
You slammed your book shut. You couldn’t live like this. You were just going to force yourself back to bed. At the sudden sound, Theo’s eyes shot up in a worried glance.
“You okay?” he asked. You began to gather your things, tucking your now-cooled kettle under your arm. When he realized what you were doing, his book dropped to the cushion beside him and he stood abruptly. You stopped and the two of you watched each other, waiting for the other to speak. His eyes were slightly widened and he was breathing a bit heavier than usual. You watched as his chest rose and fell quickly. Neither one of you moved.
“You know I’m—” “I’m sorry if—”
You both began talking and stopped at the same time. Theo dropped his head and you glanced away, finding the stained glass windows particularly interesting.
“You go first,” he says. You sigh.
“I was just going to say that I’m going to go back to bed,” you explained, avoiding eye contact.
“Oh,” he says, sounding particularly dejected. Or maybe he didn’t. You couldn’t tell what you were and weren’t imagining the last few hours.
“What were you going to say?” you ask.
His eyes glanced around the room. His fists opened and closed, flexing the tendons that ran gracefully along his forearm.
“I was going to say I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the whole
,”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” you brush it off, “let’s not make it more than it is, okay?”
“No, yeah, I didn’t mean to,” he quickly says. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
His eyes find yours and for a second you feel your heart liquefying, melting and rushing down your ribs, sliding across your stomach and legs. Your eyes hold and it feels as though neither of you can look away. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears and echoing against your back.
His lips open and close multiple times and the heavy breathing is back. His chest rising and falling, rising and falling. His honeyed lips pulsing with each breath. His eyes slipping down the length of your body but your vision is too shaky to even notice it. And when did you guys get closer to each other? His hand now rested delicately on the back of the couch you stood in front of. There was but an arm’s length between the two of you. You could just reach out and touch him

“Yeah, uh
,” you interrupted, your eyes falling away from his. You broke the moment. “I’m fine. Thanks for checking in, Nott.” He chuckles.
“Do you even know my first name?” His eyes find yours once more. No, thank you. You finish gathering your things and begin to walk around the side of the couch.
“Um, I do but
you know, if we aren’t making this weird, I figure we just go back to the way we were. You not knowing I exist and me not caring that you do.” Yikes. Fucking harsh. You shake your head and start walking past him to the staircase.
His hand suddenly wraps around your arm, your skin stinging like he had electrocuted you. You jump and he pulls away quickly. He mumbles a quick apology. You brush it off swiftly. God, this was painful. You imagined your friends watching this play out and cringing so hard they passed out. Because you were on the verge of doing the same.
“Is that seriously what you think of me?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes filled with concern. You sigh again.
“I’m sorry, that was rude, I shouldn’t have said that,” you apologize. “But before
this whole situation, we didn’t talk to each other. We went about our days, blissfully ignorant to one other.”
His eyes hit the ground. He knew it was true. The both of you knew that if this hadn’t happened, nothing would have changed between your relationship—or lack thereof.
“If you want to
you know, be friendly,” you start. His eyes raise to yours. “Come to the library with me or have lunch with me.” You felt pretty sure he wouldn’t. He had a reputation to uphold.
He and all of his friends were ‘well-known’ around Hogwarts. They were all handsome, smart, and hailing from very old, wealthy Wizarding families. Everybody liked them or wanted to be them and you knew that well. All cliches aside, you were a Half-Blood and probably none of their concern if not the subject of their bigotry.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, I will do those things with you,” he shrugs. “Give me a time and place.”
You were flabbergasted. And you were sure your face was showing it painfully well. You didn’t know what to say without sounding like a fool.
You wanted to say yes. God, how you wanted to say yes
Should you? Is it even worth all of the trouble? You know if anyone sees the two of you chatting it up at lunch, rumors will fly and you’re not so sure you’re comfortable being at the center of those. Yeah, no. You’re definitely not. Say no.
“Um
alright,” you breathe, smiling nervously. “I usually eat lunch by the Black Lake and read. I’ll be there today.” Merlin, help.
“Okay,” he says, smiling. “Well, don’t be reading while we’re eating lunch together.” You laugh.
“I won’t, as long as your conversation can keep my interest.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure it can.” He sends a wink your way. Embarrassingly, a bit of heat blossoms in your stomach. This was ridiculous. You weren’t thirteen. You needed to get it together.
“We’ll see.” The two of you smile and begin to slowly separate. You didn’t really understand what was going on and you half-wondered if this was even worth it simply due to the amount of teasing you were going to get from your friends. But he seemed
nice. You wanted to see what lunch was all about today. It couldn’t hurt to have a new friend.
Part 5!
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