#something wicked this way comes.....in the next chapter ;)

[osohchoso]

Blood and Chains

Chapter Six- Bleeding Hearts

Choso x F!reader

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Content: Multiple POV, trust issues, stalking, blood and violence, cursed techniques

You followed him in silence, the only sounds to be heard were the light drizzle of rain pitter-pattering on the sidewalk and the occasional car passing by. Each step you took with careful confidence, doing the best to minimize the sound of boots scuffing on the concrete. Slinking around in the shadows as you followed your boyfriend through the city streets. Losing track of how long has passed and just how far you have wandered from your apartment. 

When Choso reached an alley, he stopped and looked around, maybe he had a feeling someone was tailing him, but you were out of sight. He hesitated, staring off in your direction for a second that felt like it lasted a year, before finally disappearing around the corner. Should I turn back? You question yourself over and over, frozen in place as you watch the darkness of the alley swallow him whole. But it's too late, your curiosity and fears have already pushed you this far. Might as well see this through to the end, or the anxieties in your mind will never forgive you. Staying a constant nagging fear, living in the back of your head. The only way to extinguish the dark storm plaguing your thoughts is to follow through with your personal mission. So you push on, entering the alleyway Choso walked down. The alley was even darker than the city streets. Not a single light to illuminate the path, no longer able to see the outline of his pigtails as you made your way through what you hoped was the correct way. 

As you walk, you bump into something hard, hitting your hip on a sharp corner. Shit. His clunky shoes stopped in their tracks, he heard the clamoring of the large item you ran into. Pressing your palm to the side, feeling cold metal and something sticky and rotten smelling stuck to it. A dumpster, you ran straight into a dumpster. Standing in fear beside it, you could almost feel his piercing gaze scanning you, even in the dark. Heart beating wildly against your ribcage, holding your breath. This is bad, this is so bad. Closing your eyes tightly, you hope and pray to whatever higher being is out there, that he can't see you in the darkness.

His thick shoes take one step closer to you, but by some wicked twist of fate, you are saved. The lid of the dumpster shakes, and a raspy meow of a street cat echoes off the alley's brick walls. The click-clack of its untrimmed claws on the pavement grows quieter as it walks further away from you, toward the direction of Choso. He lets out a low chuckle, his clothing crinkling as he lowers himself to the ground.

“You scared me little one,” he whispers. The cat's loud purr fills the air. Even during your distrustful stalking, you can't help but smile. Finding it cute how your secretive boyfriend stopped to pet a stray cat on his late-night stroll. “Was it you following me all along?” He asks the cat. The cat responds with a loud meow, rubbing its head harder into Choso’s petting hand. 

“Go home,” his voice brings you back to reality. A shiver runs down your spine that you try to suppress. You're not sure if he's talking to you or the cat at this point. Surely, he has no idea that you're there hiding beside the dumpster? Muscles tense, not daring to move an inch. You half expected him to say something more, to call your name out and question you. It isn't until you hear his footsteps pick up again, that you realize you're in the clear. The clunk of his shoes grows quieter as he makes his way through the alleyway. You wait until you can barely hear him before you make another move.

The cat turns and makes his way toward you, purring as it rubs around your ankles. Bending slightly, you scratch him under his chin. Feeling the greasy fur and flea bites, typical of an alley cat.

“Thanks,” you whisper, “I promise to come bring you treats, you saved my skin.” You tell the cat, who lets out a content meow in response like he understood every word you just said before he jumps back up on top of the dumpster. 

This is so stupid. Hesitating before you follow him once again. Hearing Choso's words replay, go home. And you almost listened, almost turned your body toward the way you came and let your feet carry you back to the safety of your home. 

But you didn’t.

You push forward through the alley and spot Choso on the other side. Walking on a beaten-up sidewalk that leads to a neighborhood. This time you are even more careful, creating a bigger distance between him as you follow. However, it seems he is more relaxed now, not constantly checking over his shoulder to see if he's being followed. Walking quicker than before. You wonder if he knows he's on the bad side of town, if that's why he's picking up pace. You were always careful to avoid this street, not wanting to get caught up in the violence you've seen on the news. 

As you continue, you follow Choso through the neighborhood. Many of the houses look abandoned and worn down. Which confuses you, why is he here? What could be so important about this place that he had to abruptly leave you? You continue to follow, a few of the homes you pass do have lights on, signs of life inside. Though even the lived-in houses look just as bad as the abandoned ones. 

He finally stops, pausing in the front yard of a large house, lights on inside but the tattered curtains are drawn. Whose house is this? You crouch down behind an overgrown bush at the edge of the yard as you watch him stand there. Blood roaring in your ears as you jump to conclusions. He’s cheating, he's just like the other men. Hot tears prick your eyes as you wait to see the woman he left your home for. 

“Hey!” Choso’s head turns to the sound of the voice and you follow his line of sight. Instead of seeing a pretty woman, you see the cheerful pink-haired boy.

Yuji.

And now you have even more questions than before.

Yuji approaches his older brother, too far away for you to hear their conversation. You know Choso well enough by now that you can read his body language, his shoulders slightly slumped, his weight shifting back and forth between his feet. He's irritated. If it's directed at his brother or something else, you have no clue. You can hear the loud sigh leave Choso’s lips from your hiding place. The two boys then turn and enter the home, leaving the door wide open. As you watch them disappear into the house, guilt immediately floods you. Guilt for not trusting him, for thinking he would cheat. Still not sure what he's up to with Yuji, but you are now certain it's nothing concerning you. Maybe he really was on a last-minute call for his work.

You should have turned and left the second you saw them turn their backs, but you still had more questions. And maybe, if you stayed and observed just a bit longer, maybe there would be answers.

So you stayed, watching from the bush as you heard them run around inside the house. Incoherent shouting. The curtains hanging in the windows blowing as they run past. A splatter of blood decorates the downstairs window like a Jackson Pollock painting. Maybe your theory about Choso being an assassin wasn't so far off after all. Though it's hard to believe, golden retriever boy Yuji is also caught up in this line of work. Another thick splotch of blood hits the glass, causing you to flinch. I shouldn't be here. The danger of the situation really starts to sink in. 

Rising to your feet quickly, you give the house one last look. Not wanting to stick around and see the faces of the victims inside. Or to see the look on Choso’s face when he realizes you followed him all the way here. 

Too late for that.

Choso stands in the doorway, his eyes on you. Shouting your name as he begins to run out of the house in your direction. His voice loud enough to shake the earth you stand on, but not out of anger. Out of fear. From the corner of your eye you see a hunch-backed humanoid figure rushing toward you on long legs. It's moving at incredible speed, Yuji running behind it as he reaches forward. His fingers trying to grasp purchase on its wrinkly pale skin. Yet the creature remains faster as it barrels toward you. Yuji’s eyes wide with terror while the three eyes of the creature twinkle with blood lust. 

Everything happens in slow motion, your blood roaring in your ears as you stand still. A deer caught in headlights. Unable to do anything but watch. Watch as the terrifying monster runs at you, its arms shaped like curved blades. Watch as Yuji tries and fails to reach for it again and again. Watch as Choso cries out your name, sounding as fearful as you feel. You look down at your feet, trying to send a signal to move. Knees daring to buckle beneath you when all you want to do is run away.

A sharp press to your back, a pain like you've never felt. Still looking down, you can't seem to tear your eyes away as you watch a deep hole open up in your abdomen. The blade cut straight through to the other side, accompanied by unbearable pain. The once pale green skin of the creature now a deep crimson from your blood. Red drops pool on the flattened grass below your feet. The sounds of the world cut out, muffled and numb. Like your ears are underwater. You lift your gaze up and find Choso, his face paler than ever before and his face tattoo almost looks distorted and sharper, crossing over his eyes as he glares at the creature with unmatched anger. The last thing you see is him standing across the yard, his palms pressed together as his mouth moves. Your heavy eyelids flutter shut as the head of the creature explodes, painting your hair in warm blood. The blade arm exits your body and you feel Yuji catch you before you collapse to the ground. 

“Choso…I’m sorry” you manage to weakly get out before completely losing consciousness. 

˚　　　　✦　　　.　Choso's POV　 . ✦　　 . ★⋆.

~A few minutes before~

Choso looks down at the purple skin of the transfigured human as it stills on the ground, blood leaking from the fatal wound he gave it. The call was right. Mahito had been here. This poor family had enjoyed their last dinner together before the curse waltzed in and transformed them all. Choso sighs as he checks the time. He was thankful for Yuji meeting him here. The faster the brothers took care of the two curses, the faster he could get back to his girlfriend. He really wanted to send Yuji on his own and stay home with her, but the risk that Mahito could still be around scared him far too much to ditch him. Yuji runs down the stairs toward him, his shoes hitting each step loudly.

“Finished yours off?” Choso asks. Yuji nods, though there is a touch of sadness. No matter how many times he does it, having to end the transfigured humans always seems to break a piece of him.

“Yup. Was kinda a small one, so it wasn't much trouble.” He claims. Yuji bends down to pick up a family portrait that fell from the wall, his thumb smearing the blood across the glass to reveal the picture underneath. It shows three of them. Mother, father and a young girl. 

“Choso…” Yuji trails off, eyes wide. Choso takes a step closer as Yuji turns to him. “I think there is a third-” Yuji can't even finish his sentence before a tall pale green figure runs out the back door. Yuji instantly drops the frame, glass shattering as it hits the floor, and chases after it. Choso lets out an exaggerated sigh as he walks toward the front door. He’s confident Yuji will finish it off, but just in case, he wants to prepare for backup. Just one more and he can return home to you. 

You, who should be back safely at home, snuggled into your blankets as you await his return. You, whose beautiful eyes stare at him across the yard as you stand from behind a bush. Choso blinks. Once. Twice. Hoping you would disappear like a figment of his imagination. Three times, and you're still here. He can’t imagine why or even how you knew where he was. Did you follow him? Do you not trust him? He should be angry, but he's not. Not when he knows the weight of the situation you're now involved in. He’s absolutely terrified. 

From his peripherals, he sees Yuji chasing after the transfigured human, running straight toward you. His worst nightmare, this is why Choso swore off relationships. He didn’t want you hurt because of him and his dangerous lifestyle. He shouts your name, as loud as possible. Hoping that will activate your fight or flight, hoping you pick the latter and you can run faster than you did the day he found you in Shibuya. Yet you don't move, still as a statue.

He cries your name over and over, desperate for you to move as he quickens his pace toward you. Vocal cords straining as he tries to reach your thoughts hidden away in the unmoving husk of your body. Yuji is gaining on it but this transfigured human has longer legs, moving at a slightly faster speed. It's going to be close, unable to tell if Yuji will reach it first or if it will reach you first. Choso is rushing forward, but the wet sound of the blade stabbing through the left side of your stomach makes him pause. Time froze as he stared at you, the gaping wound and the creature's sharp arm stuck through it. This is worse than a nightmare, this is a living hell. 

No…no no no no no! This can't be happening, this isn't real! His breath is caught in his throat. Narrowing his eyes at your attacker, he sees red. He hasn't felt this angry in a long time. Clapping his palms together, fingers pointed at the head of the transfigured human, gathering all his strength. 

“Piercing Blood!” He releases the condensed beam of blood, shooting straight through the middle eye of the creature. It’s head explodes on impact, coating the back of your hair in thick, sticky blood. Yuji pulls the transfigured human away and catches you in his hands, gently lowering your body to the already red-stained grass. Choso hurries forward, falling to his knees before you.

“Choso…I’m sorry” He barely hears the words leave your dry cracked lips. 

“This can't be happening…this isn't happening” he mutters to himself, picking up one of your hands and holding it in his. “Yuji, tell me this isn't real,” he lifts his gaze to his brothers, tears already streaming down his cheek. Yuji frowns, dropping his gaze to the serious wound. 

“It is, Choso.” He can't lie to his brother, not when you're bleeding out right here in front of both of them. “I’ll call Shoko, she should be able to save her.” Yuji says, gently adjusting you so your head lays on Choso’s lap. Then standing, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and dialing Shoko, pacing in the yard a few feet from Choso.

Choso is holding your hand tightly, trying to get you to wake up and say something, anything. He doesn't understand why you are here, why you were apologizing. But he doesn't care. He just wants you back, alive and safe. Seeing your smile, hearing your laugh. He needs you back.

“Wake up, little flower.” He whispers, bending to place a soft kiss on your brow. “Please…please…wake up, stay with me. I ca-can’t lose you,” his voice cracking as he pleads for you. Tears rain on your cheeks as he watches your lifeless expression. 

Your hand grows cold in his blazing hot palm, fading further and further. No, no. Not again. Please not again. Choso looks over at Yuji who is still talking to Shoko. 

“We are losing her!” Choso cries out.

“Shoko is on her way” Yuji does his best to stay calm, not wanting to heighten Choso’s anxieties further. 

“There is no time, she is losing too much blood!” He’s yelling back at him, there is no calming him as he eyes the deep wound in your stomach. Blood oozing out. “She…she’s not going to make it.” Choso swallows hard.

“She will, Shoko is hurrying. She will be here soon I promise,” Yuji assures him, even though he isn't certain. He truly doesn't know if you are going to be fine. But Choso panicking more isn't helping anyone. “Hmm? Yeah, I'm still here.” Yuji continues pacing as he talks to Shoko, giving directions to their location. Choso looks down at you, watching each shallow and labored breath, seeing the last signs of life drain from your face.

There has to be something I can do. He tries to think of an idea, he knows you won't last another five minutes unless he can do something. He racks his brain trying to formulate a plan, willing to try anything if it means he won't have to watch you exhale your last breath in his arms.

Then, he forms an idea. Maybe a stupid one. Maybe one that won't work. Honestly, it might get you killed or worse. The risks are high, with maybe a 1% chance your body will respond positively. Choso doesn't care, he would take any risk if it meant he doesn't lose you today.

He glances over at Yuji, his back turned to the both of you. He doesn't bother asking his brother for his opinion on this plan because he already knows what Yuji would say. No.

But you need blood, now.

Choso grips one of your hands tightly with his, holding the other hand up, palm to the starry sky. Gathering his blood into a small sphere in the center of his palm. Taking a shaky breath before he begins.

He's never attempted using his blood manipulation for a blood transfusion before, and certainly never even considered doing this on a regular human. His blood is considered poisonous, and if this doesn't work he may be the reason you end up dying. Desperate for any chance at life, even a slim chance that the toxin won't instantly kill you, he takes the risk. If he can give you just enough until help arrives, just enough to replace what is necessary, you may survive. Afterward, Shoko can probably just give you something to counteract the negative effects. He doesn't think too much about the consequences of his cursed blood and won't allow him to think about what it might do to you.

He places his palm with the sphere of blood to the hole in your stomach. Letting his blood mix with your own. Flowing freely through your body, traveling to every limb and organ. Filling you with life, his life. He would give his whole life for you if he could, if he knew it would keep you breathing. Wouldn't even hesitate to sacrifice himself for you. He closes his eyes as he takes control, his blood pushing alongside yours. Mixing inside you like a cauldron creating a potion of endless love. His other hand, the one clutching yours like a lifeline, starts to feel a hint of warmth radiating from you again. A sign you have been granted at least a few more minutes of life, hopefully, that's enough until a real doctor can stabilize you. 

“Choso?” Yuji’s shocked voice cuts into his thoughts, causing him to flash open his eyes. Twisting his head to look over at his brother, whose eyes are wide with horror. Mouth agape as he witnesses the act.

“What have you done?” Yuji asks him.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Taglist: @lavenderdaydream97 @angel04-01

[joelsrose]

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

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.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

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.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

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.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

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.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

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.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

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.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

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.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

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.” 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.

TAG LIST!!

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[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR★彡 Part 1

Next Chapter.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: After a close game and a couple bad decisions, the media has pitted you and Paige against each other. When you finally meet off the court you’re not sure what to expect…

A/n: got many requests for some sort of rival player type-thing!!! I combined some ideas to please the masses :) there will be more parts obv. This chap is pretty long so sorry for that!!

___________________________________________________________

“This question here is for Paige again. Now, is there anything you have to say about the little altercation near the end of the third quarter with number 3 on USC? it was quite a tense moment!”

The blonde smirks to herself, her hand rubbing her forehead. “There ain’t much to say. I went for the ball and obviously she did too. I’m not tryna give anything up, I jus personally think I got it first but that doesn’t matter anymore.” She shrugs. “Thas it.”

There’s a pause for a moment, before she opens her mouth again. “I will say though, ion have much patience for players who can’t control their language.”

Her teammates share looks at this comment, and the reporters attempt to press further but Geno ensures Paige doesn’t talk for the rest of the press conference.

“(Name) how many times have you watched this fuckin video.” JuJu comes up from behind you, scaring the shit out of you and snapping you back to reality.

“I haven’t watched it that much.” You roll your eyes. “I just…never mind.”

“It’s time to move on, shit like this happens. Jus gotta keep on that grind.” She says, sitting down beside you. Despite being a freshman, Juju was naturally mature. You and her had become a popular junior/freshman duo both on and off the court. You pushed her harder and she kept you on your toes.

“I’m moved on.” You huff.

“No you’re not…look at yo hands gripping your phone.” She laughs and you roll your eyes.

The issue wasn’t the prolonged tussle for the ball when your team played UConn, it wasn’t Paige barely regarding you, or her shading the occasional curse you’d let slip during a game. These things all fuelled what really was bothering you. The way you responded.

TWO WEEKS EARLIER, POST UCONN GAME

“Where’s JuJu? Prolly eating or something she’s lowkey a big back.”

You laugh at your roommates response to the question. It had been a weird couple of days since USC faced UConn, usually there wasn’t a lot of buzz around women’s college games but this year was different. The media was all up on everyone, especially UConn since Paige returned in better health for her senior year. You decided to go live to have some fun and interact with your viewers, even though your mind was elsewhere.

“What were your thoughts on how you guys played Connecticut?” You read aloud from the chat. “Um, they’re great. I mean it was pretty close. Me and the girls did what we could and we’re gonna kill it next year, so.” You say, perfectly passive and normal. In your head you were furious at how close the game had been, but there was nothing you could do.

Near the end of the third quarter, you and Paige had a little tussle for possession of the ball. You could’ve sworn you’d gotten it before pale skinned hands darted out for the grab, almost stealing it from you before your instincts kicked in and managed your grip. You vividly remember the yells from teammates, coaches and the stands as you and Paige momentarily wrestled for the ball, her tongue sticking out between her lips and her eyes determined before number 3 on her team tore her away.

Grazing your hand against hers at the end of the game was humiliating, and she was undoubtedly looking forward to it; holding your fingers a moment too long before letting out the most agitating, self-fulfilled “good game” with a smile that would’ve warranted a punch to her teeth had you not been on camera.

You didn’t bother to smile back, but muttered a perfectly timed “bitch” just as her hand let go of yours. Nobody heard it except you and her, and the subtle change in expression from haughty to straight faced was a beautiful sight for sore eyes.

“They keep asking about the thing with Paige.” Your roomie reads, and you shove her. “Bro why’d you say that out loud…now I have to address it.” You whisper to her, annoyed. She wasn’t on the team, and didn’t think about things like that.

She shoots an apologetic look, and you decide to act like nothing happened. The damage is done though, because now all the comments are about Paige.

“You handled the press good after.”

“If I was you I would’ve taken it off the court ngl”

“You were wrong for that!”

“What happened with Paige???”

“The way she was looking at u after….mm”

“Did you see what she said on the panel?”

Scanning through the various questions you found it harder and harder to not think about it. Basketball is a contact sport, things like a fight for the ball weren’t rare. Sure it was a little aggressive, but nothing you weren’t ready for. Paige seemed ready herself, her hands gripping the already-in-your-grasp ball, her eyes shooting you the coldest look they could muster. You’d already seen edits of her all over social media, tousling with you for a moment before being dragged off by Aaliyah.

JuJu walks into your dorm and sits next to you, reading the comments as well. She slightly shakes her head at all the mentions of Paige, but greets the chat nevertheless.

Fuck it. It’s late night, you’ve been getting annoyed by all of this attention on Paige and you, and people weren’t gonna forget about it anytime soon. One comment won’t hurt.

“Did I see what Paige said on the panel?” You read out loud. JuJu shoots you a look. “Yeah…I did. ” You say, suspicious as possible. “Ion know…i jus don’t have much patience for that swiper no swiping shihhh…..stuff.” You mock Paige, then catch yourself before fully saying shit. Two digs at the blonde at UConn in one sentence, one for her statement and the other for her criticism on your swearing.

You, your roommate and JuJu all look at each other for what seems like an eternity before bursting into an explosion of laughter. You were just being petty, it didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.

It kinda was.

PRESENT TIME

You’ve always loved east-coast America. It has a different kind of feel, especially during spring. The weather was getting hotter and everyone is hyped for summer break, at least those without classes. You and some of your teammates were going on a little Big East road trip, and of course the east meant places like New York, Michigan, Boston, Rhode Island, Connecticut.

God, you weren’t ready for Connecticut. The media was really eating you and Paige’s (non-existent) beef up, and you wondered if it would translate into real life. What was worse was that you had a friend who went to UConn who you were seeing for sure.

“I am not coming to your school.” You said hastily over the phone.

“Chill.” Elaine, your friend responded. “Nobody wants you here anyways.”

“Shuttuppppp it’s not funny.” You whine, knowing she was joking but hoping there was no truth in the statement. You could handle the smoke of a mini rivalry, but confrontation was just awkward.

“Just be ready. The minute you’re in town let me know, we can go to my favourite bar.” She laughs.

“Got it.” You respond happily. You were gonna have a fun night out, things were gonna be chill. You’d maybe have a drink…maybe get hammered. It was gonna be good.

-

“You should go live.”

“No fucking way.” You shake your head. The bar was crowded, but nice. You understand why your friend wanted to take you.

“Are most of these people UConn kids?” You ask.

“Yeah.” Elaine responds, looking around. “This is like the Storrs hangout spot on a Friday night. Anyways, I’ve missed seeing your lives.”

“I know, I know.” You rub your head. “I literally can’t though. Like, I’m on a social media ban. Goddd, after that last live you don’t get how much shit I got.”

“I thought it was funny!” She says, and you smile. “Oh my god (Name), did you see her tweet after.”

“BYE.” you cover your face, laughing. A couple hours after the live, Paige had tweeted some sort of passive aggressive very targeted thing about how God has her back when people give her a hard time or something like that. You’d almost died when it showed on your TL.

“Have you seen all the edits comparing me n her.” You manage to get out between laughs. Sure, you didn’t have the spectacular reputation Paige did. The girl had started her college career stronger then literally everyone else, and she was top pick to begin with. Her return to the court was well anticipated, even by you.

Still despite that, you had a certain sparkle in game. You played flashy, but you could back it up. Your freshman year you were very much an underdog, a stark difference from Paige, but your sophomore year had been very different, and this year as a junior you were getting recognition that almost gave you whiplash. Your talent was undoubted.

“I think both of you guys are being extra careful on socials now.” Elaine says. “I mean Paige is pretty active, but when they go live the minute your name is brought up, which it always is, she like…mysteriously disappears from view. It’s actually funny.”

“Whatever.” You say, taking a swig of your drink. “As funny as it is, I’m tired of all this shit, it’s unnecessary. Let’s forget about her.”

Elaine lets out a cough, before covering her face. “Pfft. Um, yeah. Let’s forget about it.”

“What….what is it?” You say, raising an eyebrow. Your friends eyes are stuck behind you. When you turn on the barstool as conspicuously as possible, you feel your stomach physically lurch.

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“We have great luck.” Elaine muffles a laugh.

You spin back towards her, talking through bared teeth. “You brought me to Storrs’s most popular bar on a Friday night…Storrs…fuck. That’s their campus? Seriously??!”

“Don’t be mad.” She sheepishly smiles. “I don’t pay that much attention to them…I didn’t think it through.”

“Boo, you whore. Even I know they’re like, bar-fiends.” You grumble, putting your head down. “God, just put your head down, cover me, something. I’m not tryna do this right now.”

Covering your eyes and keeping your back to the group, you ask. “How many of them are here. Tell me exactly who.”

“Umm, I don’t know all of them.” She says.

“Bitch just tell me…I swear to god.” You sneer, casually attempting to turn, discreetly letting your eyes graze the masses before they meet a pair of blue ones.

Shit.

Her eyes hold yours for a moment too long. Her hair is down instead of her signature ponytail and braids. She’s dressed casually, and posed confidently. Her expression is one of surprise…then amusement…and then something you can’t quite recognize. When her friends start to follow her gaze, you finally turn away.

“Elaine, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Calm down, it’s fine. You always say you can handle the smoke, right?”

“Yeah when I’m in California I can…not when I’m in a UConn infested bar with Paige fucking Bueckers and her cult staring me down.”

“They’re really staring. Oh, KK just pointed at you.” Elaine says, looking at them obviously. You fix your posture and adjust your hair at this.

“Are they like…coming over?”

“Yep.” She murmurs under her breath, indicating they’re close.

“Umm, hey.” A voice says from behind you. It’s low, almost raspy. You remember it being way more strained and arrogant on the court. In the bar, it was almost attractive.

“Hey.” You say, as cool as possible. Turning to face Paige and her teammates usually wouldn’t have intimidated you, you could hold your ground and you were confident in yourself, but here? On their turf? With none of your own teammates? And a couple drinks in you? Your body was already tingling, and you were terrified you would say something to dig your hole deeper.

“Think I could get a picture?” Paige says. She sounds likes she’s severely forcing herself, arms crossed and drink already half empty despite just entering the bar. Azzi’s face breaks into an amused smirk beside her, and her other friends hang back with giggly expressions.

“A…picture?” You say, confused. The three of you stare at each other for an awkward moment before you break the silence. “Sorry…that was rude of me, my bad. I just wasn’t expecting that.” You laugh. “If you actually want a picture I can do that for you.”

“Thanks.” Paige smiles, but there’s no happiness behind it. When she poses by you, her hand just hovers above your waist. She can’t even bring herself to touch you. You give your best smile as Azzi takes the picture on Paige’s phone.

When she shows it to the two of you, you realize why Paige might’ve wanted that picture.

“You’re gonna really shock everyone when you post that.” You say, laughing. Paige’s face finally breaks to a more authentic smirk that sends shivers down your spine. It’s like the one she wore when you two were facing each other on the court. Proud, confident, ready for anything.

“Never let em’ know your next move.” She says, eyes piercing yours.

-

As the night goes on the bar gets more and more busy, you have to yell over the music for Elaine to hear you. You’re not exactly trying to talk to her though, because she’s mostly talking about Paige.

“You know she’s sort of a campus heart-throb right?”

“What??” You yell, although you’ve perfectly heard what she’s said.

“She’s. Hot. Maybe you should flirt with her a little.” Elaine says.

You just shake your head. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

Your luck is spectacular for the night, because there are no barstool seats left except one a little too close to Paige, who’s sitting alone and waiting for her drink. You silently curse, but are thankful her team isn’t there too. You sit by her as confidently as possible, avoiding her gaze.

She’s watching you indubitably, noting every move you make. Your posture as you sit, the Polaroid behind your clear phone case, the way your lips move when you ask the bartender for your favourite drink, these are all thinks she seemingly makes note of.

You can’t help but overhear her scoff at your drink choice, to which you finally turn and acknowledge her, raising your eyebrow.

“Out of everything you could’ve ordered you got that?” She says, haughty as ever.

“Not everyone is trying to get white-girl-wasted.” You respond curtly, eyeing her Dirty Shirley.

Paige scoffs. “You don’t talk as big as you do on your lives.”

Shrugging, you respond “Someone asked a question and I answered, simple as that.”

“Ion know bout that one.” She rolls her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you’re just feining for people to talk bout you.”

This bitch. You internally think, brows furrowed at her statement. “Wouldn’t have even been brought up if you hadn’t let your fatass ego get in the way of your media training during that press conference.” You sneer. “Now that is feining for people to talk..”

“Someone asked a question and I answered.” She smiles, sending a hot flash of anger throughout your body. “Simple as that.”

“You think you’re so smart.” You grumble out, turning your head from her. The sheer arrogance is radiating from her body, it’s annoying you to no end.

“I am.” She says, as if it’s common knowledge. “Plus, I’m not the one who started twisting words. That was you, remember?”

When your drink is finally set in front of you, you make a point to get up from the stool and grab it, sending Paige a steely look. “Good talk, Bueckers.”

“Aye, wait a sec.”

You’re already walking away, taking a big gulp of your drink when she slides off of her stool and catches up, walking beside you. You don’t miss how her eyes flick to your mouth when you wipe it clean, facing her begrudgingly.

“Why’re you even here?” She asks. “Visiting yo girlfriend?”

“Who, Elaine?” You laugh, Elaine being the straightest girl you know. “Why’re you so interested?”

“Wasn’t expecting to see some California girl in Storrs. You sure you weren’t plotting on seeing me?” Paige grins, taking a step towards you. She’s taller then you, and the way she tilts her head downwards when she speaks gives you an unrecognizable feeling that you’re planning to blame on the alcohol.

“I got up close and personal with you once, and it was enough.” You smile, holding her stare. She chews on the straw of her Shirley, her expression both amused and something else.

“Ion think so.” She mumbles.

“You don’t have to think.” You respond, looking her up and down for a moment. It feels like an eternity passes as you two challenge each other, the air gets thicker by the minute and you finally break away from her, walking as confidently as you can, far from where she can see you.

-

You don’t see Paige again after that, presumably because her and her friends went elsewhere. Laying in a hotel room next to your teammates, you can’t help but think about the blonde and how odd your interaction was. She had this way of looking at you like she knew exactly what you were thinking, even though you knew damn well she knew nothing except for how you were on the court. Still, despite how her voice made your skin itch and her mannerisms induced the need for violence, there was something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

As if reading your mind, your phone began to vibrate uncontrollably. You check your notifications to see a sea of messages and a couple more alien ones on Instagram.

paigebueckers started following you.

paigebueckers tagged you in their story.

jujubballin sent you a story.

jujubballin sent you a message.

kenzie_4bs sent you a story.

kenzie_4bs sent you a message.

You accept Paige’s request and view her story, which features the picture of you and Paige. You sitting and her standing, her hand just hovering above your waist, her face a curt close-mouthed smile and yours wide and genuine. It’s an interesting photo which she’s captioned “Cali meets Connecticut!”

You scoff at her version of being witty, and immediately cringe at the sheer amount of traction the post has gotten already, with at least 50 people in your inbox within the first 15 minutes of the post coming out. The messages range from “The crossover we needed!!” To “Ik you wanted to punch her white-ass” and frankly it was all too much for you. Social media, Connecticut, the messages, Paige.

She seemed to be the main article of stress in your life the past couple weeks and it seemed to smart to keep a distance from her from this point onward.

The girl really knows how to induce that shock factor.

[sibillascribbles08]

Big Ol' Rottmnt Fic Rec List

Hi, I've needed to do this for a while, so here's a big bundle of fic recs from me !

I've broken it down between one shots, chaptered fics, and series. I'll try to mention what the character focus is along with a brief summary and some personal thoughts. If you need more details I encourage you to check the fics summary and tags for yourself! I will only include an author's tumblr account if it's easy for me to find haha

One Shots

Mama's Boy - ashtreelane: Technically two chapters but it feels like a one shot. Casey Jr. angst, involving him finding out that maybe you can fix kraang infections and that he failed to save his mother. I love when people really pile the grief on Junior after all the fighting is over and the fic does it so well.

Forget-Me-Nots - GibbousLunation (AKA @klunkcat ): Hi, oh my god??? Leo and Mikey centric angst, in which saving Leo from the prison dimension has an insane ripple effect. Mikey dying? Nah he's going to start getting erased from every timeline and Leo slowly watches it happen (and refuses to do nothing about it). I utterly adore how this fic handles this concept. You see almost all of it from Leo's POV, noticing the little changes but writing them off as memory failures, because of how subtle some of it is.

Fight or Flight - pickledcarrotsandradish: Leo centric, post movie, Leo keeps waiting for his family to start lecturing him about all the dumb stuff he did during the invasion, and they aren't, so it's getting to him. A very neat narrative about how self loathing can warp our perception of how others see us. A++++

The Friend Zone Sounds Pretty Good, Actually - Cryptvokeeper: Eating this, eating this. You probably already know I love aroace Leo and this fic is an INCREDIBLE exploration of that. Even as just an ace person it hit SO many notes where I was just like "Oh god... I've been there buddy". And as a bonus the dynamic between Leo and Yuichi is v sweet. Love this a lot I've read it like five times.

Pink in The Night - unnamedmystery: Incredible April/Sunita fic. Like seriously this author wrote April's crush so well I think I was starting to fall in love with Sunita. Just incredibly cute all the way through, and great April writing, adore it.

《 until then, matriarch 》 - chiangyorange: HI OH MY GOD A nice chunky oneshot about Karai, about her being a leader, and it's phenomenal. It hits and hits and does not miss, really going in depth about her emotions involving her father turning into something wicked and having to destroy him, and how it ruins all of her good memories.

The Kindness of Collision - SpoonerizedSwiftness (AKA @splickedylit ): Hi I still remember the fic and the art suddenly showing up in the tag and then I was thinking about it for the next like five weeks aslkdjf A very interesting idea that when the turtles reach the age they were in the doomed timeline before things got reset, all the memories of their other life more or less hit them like a train. All of them have to comb through that information and it's a wonderful and emotional ride.

Chaptered Fics

Hamartia - Punable (in progress): Hi this is one of my all time favorite rise fics, mainly because in a way, it helped me come to terms with my chronic pain. It's Donnie centric and smack full of angst in all the best ways. Shorthand summary, an explosion in Donnie's lab almost takes him out (or kind of DOES take him out) and the recovery is not only long and agonizing, it may only go so far, and Donnie doesn't cope well with that.

Kick It Up a Notch - Brokenpitchpipe (completed): Hi this is my other all time fav rise fic. Donnie centric separated AU in which Donnie is raised by Draxum. My love for it stems a lot from the characterization of Donnie though, and even Draxum in this case. Not to mention that in a lot of cases it matches the vibes of the show. And in spite of all the humor, there's a few really gut wrenching moments. 10/10 will re-read.

Lightning in Our Fingertips Today - DaFlangsLairde (AKA @daflangstlairde-art) (completed): Leo and Donnie centric, mostly angst, with body swapping between the twins which results in Donnie finding out that Leo's ninpo hurts him. Love love love the character writing in this, and also how the swap is written.

Under Pressure - ParvumAutomaton (completed): Not sure this is a single character focused fic, but basically April goes cave diving and is out for a while, and the turtles get worried and go looking for her. This might be personal bias but as someone who gets really into caving stories, this fic hits the spot for so many reasons. A really great emotional ride, and if you wanna see April go through it then I super recommend it.

Nothing Haunts Us (like the things we don't say) - mad_and_thick_as_theives (completed): A lot of great fics by this author btw, but this one personally stood out to me. It starts of silly and light only to sweep in with the emotional weight. Turtles are all cursed with a truth spell, basically, but I think my favorite bit is who gets out of it first (and why). V sweet.

Creation of a Philospher's Stone - IgnisCanis (completed): Whoooo boy, if you want some Draxum centric character exploration this is a great one. It really fleshes him out as a morally grey character and also does a fantastic job at writing Mikey when he finds out.

The Ol Switcheroo - radishhqueen (AKA @radishhqueen) (completed): Haha not going to lie I have a few by this author (so I'll only tag them once) but MAN. Hands down my favorite take on future leo coming to the past, and maybe I'm biased because I like when those fics actually explore Junior's character in the process buuuuut I love it. Junior's already struggling to adapt himself to the present, and after getting caught up in a foot clan spell which summons his sensei to the present too it really doesn't get any easier.

Vigilantism for Fun and Profit - radishhqueen (completed): The Cassandra Jones fic ever. Zero contest. If you're uncertain about writing Cassandra because she had so little development in the show I encourage you to read this for inspiration (I know it inspired me a lot). It does such a great deep dive into her character post show and a bit of the movie too. Honestly anytime radishh has a Cassandra fic I am clicking.

Tried to Grow Up Good - Sroloc_Elbisivni (AKA @sroloc--elbisivni )(completed): The Casey Jr. fic ever. CRAZY in love with this post movie take on him. It's messy, it's fun, it's so so real and you get a good chunk of Casey Sr. in here too. Adore it.

Hold On (Or Three Times Donatello's Soft Shell Almost Killed Him, and One Time it Saved His Life) - dunk_on_em (AKA @spockazilla )(completed): If you ever want a bit of angst involving Donnie's shell this is my go to. Every chapter has an emotional swing, even the positive ones. And shows something most people might see as a disadvantage as a good thing, actually.

Atlas, My Brother - swampcryptid (AKA @the-name-is-rizzotherat)(in progress): Get your Raph angst, specifically involving him always shielding his siblings, this time via a curse. My guy is already going through it and I think it'll get worse if a solution isn't found.

I've Got You Under My Skin - Cass_Phoenix (in progress): More Raph angst, and some Donnie, a truly chilling exploration of the possible consequences to connecting with the kraang. This fic constantly has me on the edge of my seat, and constantly stressing for Raph.

What We Leave Behind (How We Start Anew) - iam57311 (AKA @iam-57311)(in progress): Any Baronjitsu fans here? An alternate take on canon in which Draxum and Splinter co-parent the kids since they're first born (made?) Hilariously while I love the Baronjitsu content in here, I think some of my favorite parts are actually with the sisters, Big Mama, and Draxum's sister who is so so cool I love her.

Proof of Redemption - iam57311 (complete): Another one of theirs! A short and sweet lil close to canon fic about Draxum steadily gaining the trust and affection of the Hamatos, with each chapter focused on a different character. I love how they're all paced out from each other, really hits how some are much slower than others to trust Draxum hehe.

No Crime* Only Brooches - OllieTheScribe (AKA @olliethescribe) (in progress): Well I have to get THE HypnoWarren fic in here. Such a fun take on these characters, I love love love the backstory they built up for Warren too, plus the dynamic between these two and the turtles after (eventually) become friends haha.

Minor Interference - bambiraptorx (AKA @bambiraptorx) (in progress): What can I say? This fic is delightful. Between the hilarity of the turtles going with Draxum just to mess with him, the lore additions for yokai and the Hidden City, HoH Donnie, and their slowly building dynamic, always eager for a new chapter with this one.

Series

A Butterfly with a Mechanical Wing - Amethyst_Goldenwind (AKA @amethystgoldenwind ): Donnie centric series about being a non-verbal autistic. I'm always fond of non-verbal/mute explorations of characters, and so far I really like how, because his family has grown up with it, all of it is very normal for them. The various forms of communication are delightful. Excited to see further entries.

Analogous Hues - alwerakoo (AKA @alwerakoo): It's a separated AU with similar titling themes as my own, needed to check it out. The titles are just about all they have in common though! This AU focuses a lot on the turtles (Raph and Leo with Splinter and Donnie and Mikey with Draxum). I love how this explores not only the dynamics of the two groups and how different they are, but also the dynamics between each of the siblings, also how some magic sibling connections can influence that. Not to mention the different home life in more ways than one. If you're into separated AUs that really dig into the turtles dynamics try this one out !

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter six

of rage and ruin series

chapter six

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 4.8k

summary: you burn, and joel burns with you.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), body horror, viewer discretion is advised, dub-con due to heat, heat/rut, unprotected p in v, cum play, scenting, oral, angst, rut!joel has a filthy mouth, gratuitous use of petnames

for bonus angst pls listen to this 🖤

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Something in Joel aches in a way it hasn’t for over fifteen goddamn years. Something that knew you were too soft, too weak, too goddamn good for him. He didn’t know you. Wouldn’t know you. Couldn’t know you.

But he didn’t need to. He didn’t have to ask to know you’d never felt a life bleed out under your fingertips, never felt flesh give way to a knife, never known the kickback of a gun, the twin reverberation as its bullet tore through a person. 

He hadn’t felt this clearheaded in years. No, he wouldn’t do you the disrespect of hiding behind the wolf. If he were to do this, to violate you like this, he’d have to live with it as the man. As Joel. 

As the real monster. 

It was the wolf’s nature, the wolf’s instinct. An undeniable pull. But the man?

He’d stomach this because he had to, but he’d brand it into the twinings of his soul. Another terrible thing, another debt racked up against him. 

He looks at where you lay against his chest and presses another kiss to the top of your head even though it hurts, oh, it hurts him to be soft. He flays himself for you because he must. 

Because it’s his fault you’re here, his fault you’re enduring this.

And because you’re his. 

He knows he’s wicked and damned for it, but you are his. His omega. It’s been you and him, slowly drowning by the cement blocks of the bond, ever since they shoved that cloth to your nose in the wreckage and saw the way your pupils dilated, the way your body recognized him as a potential mate. 

And he’s been fucked since the first time your sweet apple cider and oat scent permeated his cell. 

You’re his. Ain’t nothin’ in this godforsaken world can change that. Nothin’ but you, of course.

And he knows, he fucking knows, it’s about to be too late for you. Neither of you will come out of this whole. Neither of you will come out of this separate.

Joel’s been a monster for far longer than he’s been a beast, and he knows. You’re his penance. You’re the punishment. 

He’s doomed to bleed you over and over until you’re gone. 

He never wanted an omega. 

Not since Laura-of-the-Woods, Laura-of-the-dead-husband, Laura-of-the-unfailing-kindness when she should have shot them for doing exactly that to the only person she’d had left in this world who understood what they were. 

Not since she explained that her husband hadn’t lost his mind in the change and eaten her because, well, he’d almost tried. But instead, a wicked instinct, something stronger than hunger and violence, had sunk its teeth into the curve of her shoulder and made a place for himself. 

He’d marked her, claimed her, in that tense, fate-changing instance, his love for her beyond all reason heightened by his newfound nature. 

She’d turned omega, and he’d turned her his. 

And Joel had vowed to himself to never become the kind of beast that bound someone to the likes of him for all eternity. 

He thinks he understands it, though. The allure. This soft, precious thing in his lap, this needy, whimpering omega, begging for him. Like he’s the only one in the world that can help her. Help you. 

And he is. 

You’re not of the right mind to consider yourself, or him, for that matter. You’re burning, melting, aching. 

And he’s not touching you. 

Joel’s lucky. He can switch, Can hide, Can bury himself in his other mind. He can blame the wolf or blame the man and live knowing it was never really up to him one way or another. 

Not you, though. You don’t get to change. You don’t get to shed your skin and guilt and pain. You don’t get to sink your claws and teeth into soft flesh and then simply shift and shrug it into the shadows. 

You have no choice. You must live with your choice. You will wake from this haze and remember, be forced to reckon with the way you rub your needy cunt against his thick thigh, the wiry hair slicked down as you soak him. The way you whine and whimper, these feral, nonverbal pleas for his hands, his tongue, his cock. 

The way you keened as he broke and gave in, his entirely human fingers slipping into you without another torturous moment. Two at once, a groan falling from his lips at the way your warm body makes room for him. 

It’s almost too much and it’s still not enough. Your hips meet his knuckles, a violent union, but even that ache doesn’t come close to the way your body craves his. 

One of you is a human and one of you is a monster, one of you can still form words and one of you can only cry out. One of you is moving slow and steady, calm and calculated. One of you is sharp nails and tight grasps, teeth in flesh and fists in hair. 

And it’s not the fucking werewolf. 

You should have never wished for more. Should have never wanted to change, to be allowed to be the beast. 

You will be, in your own way. But you don’t know that yet. All you know now is hunger. 

His fingers work double-time, a calloused thumb coming to rub at your clit. He thinks maybe, maybe, if he takes the edge off, he can have one more semi-coherent conversation. 

You cling to him, still sprawled there in his lap. Your body is clenched, not just around his thick, pistoning fingers, but at the waist, your core rumpled, bowed upward to him. Hands grasp his bicep and forearm, fingers digging little dashes into his skin. They’ll fade quickly, but he’ll remember. He’ll remember the way you needed him, how his little omega wrapped her body to his and whined so prettily. How your eyes fluttered shut only to fly back open with a gasp when he hit a new sweet spot and coaxed more liquid pleasure from your dripping cunt. 

The first orgasm takes you over quickly and doesn’t last, doesn’t linger. It’s like the time you and your friends did a Polar Plunge for the local women’s shelter back in the Girl Scouts, when everything was still pigtails and Claire’s BOGO clip-on earrings and mismatched tiger stripes and leopard print. 

It’s also nothing like that at all. 

It’s a shockwave, a heated blanket, a sharp slap, a warm embrace. It’s the most intense orgasm you’ve had in your life, and it’s over in a flash. 

And there’s Joel, whose hand still drips with your slick, shaking you by the shoulders as he forces you to sit. 

“C’mon, darlin’,” he husks, eyes dark and sharp. “Answer me.”

“Wha?” You mumble stupidly, though you think you’re entitled to be a little stupid. He just reached up your pussy and pulled out your brain, after all. 

“I said, you ain’t a virgin, right?” He seems to be begging. Praying to no one for the answer he wants. 

Luckily, it’s the truth. “Nope,” you say. “Not in a long time.”

His shoulders slump on a sigh. “Look,” he says as two curled fingers lift your chin. 

It’s not a smart move on his part, because that move might have done you in anyway, had you been two strangers flirting in a bar. It’s worse now that you’re, for lack of a better word, intoxicated by his hormones. The oaky musk has never been more alluring, and you just want to… you just want to…

You’re moving before you realize, going to bury your face in his chest, snuffling closer to your goal when he catches you by the chin and pulls you back. 

“Wait,” he scolds, and something about his tone of voice grates against your spine. 

You hold still, brows furrowed, something akin to anger beginning to boil. Wait? Wait?! 

His thumb strokes your cheek, and it’s as if the anger was never there at all. 

The whiplash has you dazed even more than his scent. “What’s wrong with me?” You ask him, eyes wide. 

His chest clenches. “M’sorry, darlin’. I told ya. It’s the heat. You ain’t… you ain’t gonna feel like yourself for a while. It’s okay, though. I’m gonna take good care of ya.”

There’s something pinched in the corner of your brain. Something tugging at it as you absorb his words. “Am I gonna die?” You ask softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

Joel’s face pulls tight, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “ No,” he snarls. “I told you, this is different. You’re mine .”

Instead of the shiver that should have run down your spine, there’s a burst of heat. 

Vaguely, you wish you had asked more about the other omega. The one… the one he killed. But the thoughts are fleeting, and his hands are holding you in place as you let them drift away.

There’s no room in your head for anything but him now.

“Joel,” you whisper, and he hears what you can’t say. 

“Hurts again already?” he mutters.

But you’re not listening. You’re back to burying your face in his bare chest, nuzzling the hair there, and snuffling over to push your face into the crook of his arm.

This time, he doesn’t have the strength to stop you. He growls, his hand cupping the back of your head and rubbing softly as he presses you in. A strangled moan escapes him as you nuzzle your face in his underarm, scenting yourself. Rubbing his sweat into your skin, bathing you both in each other. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs, sliding his hand down to rub at your neck, traveling down your spine. “That’s a good girl.”

A shudder runs through you, a matching moan on your lips. You want him to say it again. Need to hear it. You whine, stretching and straining to wrap yourself around him like a starfish.

He catches you by the hips before you can grind your cunt against his cock. The thin cotton of your panties is sopping, his lip twitching. He lifts you, splaying you out on the mattress. You squirm a little, the feeling of the blanket he gave you against your crawling skin easing the itch. 

His mouth is on you before you’ve gotten your bearings, a single claw erupting to slice through your panties and make way for him. Hot palms push your thighs back as he feasts. He tries to control it, tries to stay human for you, but the wolf can no longer abide your request. 

He manages to stay the man— mostly. Not that you can tell, because all you can see is his morphing face, nothing visible beyond the bushy brows and ears. 

Your hand finds its way down and tugs on one pointy ear, dragging a groan from his elongated muzzle. His tongue, that wonderfully long, thick, sandpapery tongue, plunges into your cunt and devours the plentiful slick gathered there. 

The noises he makes are obscene. The room fills with sloppy, squishy slurps and heaving breaths. He snarls and moans, you gasp and whimper, each gripping onto the other with no chance of release. Both branding the other with bruising, aching fingerprints, though only his marks will linger.

Unlike the first, this orgasm grants you no relief. Instead, you ache. You begin to cry, pathetic sobs replacing the communal ecstasy. Tears burn your raw cheeks, and something inside Joel snaps.

As he pulls away, licking slick from his fingers, his face melts back. He wipes his glistening beard on the back of his hand.

“Alright, darlin’. No more teasin’. I’ll give you what you need.”

“Joel, alpha, please,” you cry. Your body is yarn on a loom, stretched taut, fibers straining. Your hand reaches for his, needing to weave him through to completion.

You don’t even notice that you’ve plunged four fingers up your cunt, hips bucking desperately, but it’s not enough. It’s not enough. Nothing is enough. Why is he denying you? Why is he doing this? Doesn’t he want you?

He snatches your wrist and wrenches it away, tongue clicking. “Naughty little omega,” he croons, “You can’t help yourself, huh? I’m bein’ so mean, tryin’ to get you ready, is that right?”

There’s some distant part of you that registers the way he’s setting up, that acknowledges his logic, but you just don’t fucking care. Fixing him with your most stubborn glare, you push your other hand to your leaking slit.

“If you’re not gonna help me,” you start, trying to sound as indignant as you feel. 

He brushes a thumb over your furrowed brow, gently guiding your hand away. His broad hand gathers both of your wrists above your head, his leg slinging over to pin you.

“Relax, sweet thing. I’m gonna give you what you need; I promise.” His free hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

Your mouth parts for him, mind blissfully blank as your legs spread, wrapping around his body. He presses his thumb in, rubbing it over your tongue, which chases it. You wrap your lips around it, every part of you welcoming him in. He groans as you suckle on it, reluctantly pulling it away, trailed by your soft whine and a string of spit.

“None of that, now. As nice as your pretty mouth is, we’ll have time for that later,” he murmurs, lips brushing your forehead.

You keen, beyond words. There’s nothing in your head now; it’s all been burned away in the fever. He pulls his hand back to reach between your thighs and gather some of the slick pooled there, stroking it over his length. 

“Hold still, darlin’,” he says firmly, lining the bulbous head of his cock up. When you feel it brush against your cunt, your hips cant up.

He lets go of your wrists to pin you by the hip.

“What did I say, huh? You’re gonna hurt yourself. F’you want my knot, baby, you gotta be a good girl and listen.”

There’s that tone to his voice again. The one that makes you feel like your muscles all fell asleep and now you’re filled with pins and needles. You settle, looking up at him with a pout.

“Yes, alpha.”

“Good girl,” he croons, a pleased little tug to the corner of his mouth. 

You squirm, preening as his satisfaction bubbles up inside you.

He leans in, holding himself over you with one hand, the other still wrapped around his cock. Even completely human, you’re taken by his sheer size. A hulking mass, and though only a fraction of his weight presses on you, you’re at his mercy. It should scare you. He should scare you. He knows that, but you don’t seem to. 

He rubs the tip through your folds, from your asshole to your clit. You’re shaking by the time he brings it back to your cunt and slowly, agonizingly slowly, begins to push inside.

He was right to try to stretch you first, to loosen you up with orgasms. You’ll pay the price of your impatience later, but now? 

It’s nothing but bliss.

He’s girthy and long, and you’re so snug around him that you feel every vein, every throb, every twitch.

You’re aware of the sting where your body fails to accommodate him, but it doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, because you flood around him, easing the way for him to overtake your limits and make a home for himself. Each inch has you seeing lights, closing your eyes against a kaleidoscope.

“No,” he grunts. “Keep your eyes on me.”

And you listen, of course. He’s glistening with the effort of holding himself back, muscles flexing. 

“Let me see you,” he says, gruff tone leaving no room for disobedience. 

You don’t move, though, staring up at him with your lips swollen and parted, eyes wide and rapt.

He shakes his head. “You that far gone, or my cock just got you speechless?” He snaps the strap of your sports bra. “If you wanna keep this, I suggest you take it off real quick.”

It’s over your head and lost somewhere on the floor before he’s finished speaking.

He groans, lunging forward to take a nipple into his mouth, suckling and flicking his tongue. As you lose yourself to the pleasure, he pushes the rest of the way inside.

Your hands fly up and grasp for him, burning themselves in the thick fur on his shoulders. The man is barely holding on, barely there as he buries himself, balls flush against your ass. 

“Sorry,” he slurs around his rapidly growing teeth. “Sorry, can’t—can’t stop it—”

You nod as his tongue unfurls to lick up your neck. “S’okay, I—” but whatever semblance of a clear thought you had breaks into a cry as he starts to move. 

You’re gone. You’ve been ground to dust and blown away. You’ve been left to sink slowly through a swamp. 

You’ve been chewed up and spit out, buried in compost, dissolved.

And so has he. 

As you move, clumsy at first, all bone and nail, as you begin to writhe and fall into a cresting cadence, there ceases to be a line of demarcation. 

There is wolf and flesh and violence. There is blood and hope and fear. 

He is not the man nor the wolf but something ubiquitous and all-encompassing. You absorb him into you, and so you are not a girl or an omega or a separate being. You are whole. You are held. 

You are found. 

And it’s not his cock that’s made you that way, just as it’s not your cunt that completes him.

No.

It’s teeth.

While his knot swells, your body splits for him, bleeds for him, lets him possess and fill and tear you apart. It’s okay. He’ll put you back together. You’re already patching him up, filling in the cracks. He’ll give you the same.

You wish you could say you were too lost. That you hadn’t begged him to do it. That he hadn’t begged the same.

But no, it was after. As he held you, a willing captive beneath him, as the fog of heat eased with each pulse of his cock, each load of his seed bloating you impossibly, that you blurted it out. 

Your mind was clear, and your instincts had never been stronger. You wanted it. Maybe you didn’t quite know what it was, or why, but it was the only thing you wanted. 

“Bite me,” you say, eyes wild.

He groans. “No, no, darlin’, I can’t. Don’t ask me that.” A beat. “Fuck. ”

He’s nearly the man again, his hazel eyes fixated on you, foreheads sticking together with sweat. He grinds, his knot securely locked inside your cunt, your overworked opening impossible to breach. His hips twitch at the same time as his lip.

“Alpha,” you whine.

“Stop,” he begs. “You don’t know what you’re askin’.”

His rejection hurts worse than the stretch. The image of him blurs with tears and he whimpers, wounded.

“Shh, darlin’, it’s alright,” he murmurs, stroking your head and cheek with tenderness in high contrast to the sharp claws so close to your delicate flesh. 

But you’re not scared. He’d never hurt you. You find that you know this, for certain, a deep knot in your gut. Well. In addition to the literal knot that certainly feels like it’s deep in your gut. 

“Alpha,” you whine, head tipping back. 

He groans. “Don’ do that, darlin’. I ain’t strong enough.”

He was wolf just moments ago. But he’s rolled back the change so that his teeth won’t rend your soft flesh to ribbons. 

No, it’s decidedly blunter teeth that shred you as he gives in, that sink so deep into the curve of your shoulder that you cry out, nails digging into his back. He holds on, growling, and you bring one hand up to card through his hair while he stays latched into your flesh. 

His eyes flutter shut, his face gone lax in a way you’ve never seen. It smooths out some of his wrinkles, the deep stress lines still there but a deeper peace taking over for just this one, beautiful moment. 

You squirm a little, writhing on his knot as it throbs and throbs and throbs in time with the wound on your shoulder. He draws away reluctantly, just enough to let the shift take back over so he can lap at the weeping mark with his rough tongue. 

As always, it soothes the burn, and you moan, trembling under his care. He nudges you with his snout, nuzzling against your cheek, and you wind your fingers through his fur just as you had his hair. 

His hips rock lazily, never drawing out but keeping the bulk of his knot rubbing against the deep parts of you normally unreachable, pushing something wild and untamable from you with each sick squelch. 

The wolf looks down at you with something intense that you don’t want to analyze. Not right now. Not when you feel “so good, alpha, so good.” So good, in fact, that you don’t even realize you’re babbling praises for his cock as he snuffles every bit of you he can reach, licking and nuzzling, bathing you in him. 

When his knot finally goes, you’re asleep. If he had feathers, he’d be ruffling his plumage in pride, but instead, he just shifts you so he can curl around you. Around his omega. His. 

More than either of you know. 

You float on the ocean, buoyed through a dreamless sleep. Later, you’ll tell him you think his cum is a sedative in the way his slobber is anesthetizing, and he’ll roll his big brown eyes and huff. Later, you’ll think about how his eyes change when he does, and you can’t choose a favorite. The wolf’s endless pools of bewitching brown or the soft green and gold flecks that herald the man. 

Either way, you’re adrift at sea when you wake to his very human fingers in your cunt. He wears the face of the man but the dark eyes of the wolf. At least, you think so, until he looks up and feasts on you with them, and you can see the darkness is just his pupils, blown large as he pushes his cum back inside you. 

“Y’took it so good, darlin’,” he murmurs. “Can’t let it go to waste now.” 

“Hmm?” You mumble sleepily, squirming as he frowns, using two fingers to scoop some off the blanket. He brings the fingers to your lips and you open obediently, floating in your haze as he feeds you your communion. 

You fall back asleep, fueling your sedative theory. He’ll roll his eyes later, but now? Now he hovers over you, cock rubbing against your hip impatiently, throbbing, aching, leaking. 

He fists it with the hand still sticky with spend, tugging mercilessly. His hips buck up into his hand as he grunts, biting his lip until it bleeds to keep from disturbing your dreams. With a harsh huff, his cum splatters across your body, but it doesn’t soothe the ache. He’s still hard as he spreads it across your breasts, rubbing it over your collarbone. 

There. He regards his art proudly, but it does nothing to quiet the way his heartbeat seems to have settled in his balls. He cups them, shifting them to settle on your thigh, nestled near the peak of your warmth, but it’s not enough. 

He nudges you, already thin patience fraying. 

You blink blearily at him, and look down at your chest. “Really?”

He blushes and scowls. “You smelled wrong,” he says, as if it’s something he can scold you over. 

It doesn’t matter, though. The combination of his scent and the way his cock is grinding against your pelvis has you squirming in place. He sits back on his haunches, lifting you up as you let out a surprised squeak. 

He sets you on his cock. There’s no preamble. He impales you on it and immediately begins rutting up as you scramble for purchase, grabbing his shoulders. He’s doing all the work, fucking himself with your tight, wet heat. 

Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the hottest thing anyone’s done. All you can do is hold on and thrill him with your breathy moans and gasps. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs, holding you to him. “I know what you need. Just take it, yeah?”

You nod against his shoulder. “Yes, alpha.”

He moans at your easy compliance, bouncing you roughly on his cock. “Gonna take my knot again, baby,” he grunts. “You’re gonna take it and you’re gonna take my whole fuckin’ load.”

You can’t even respond, each thrust knocking the breath from you. Instead, you occupy yourself by licking and nipping at the strained tendon of his neck. 

“Bite, little omega,” he says in that tone, the one you can’t seem to resist. 

So you do. It’s what you really wanted, anyway. To feel his flesh give way for you the way you are for him. Your teeth aren’t sharp, but still, they sink into him like a fist grasping a stone from a riverbed. 

He hisses as he breaks under your tongue, moaning as you lap up the blood beneath. His knot swells, and you refuse to loosen your grip, jaw set around the strong line of muscle, and he wants to tuck you into the wound and keep you there. 

The days are a blur. You’re not even sure it’s days. You sleep, you fuck, you don’t separate from one another. You do, eventually, stop biting him, but you’re a mess of claws and nails and teeth and fangs and so much cum. He stuffs you with it until it leaks out and does it again. 

Until you wake up and find him on the other side of the room. He’s all man, dozing with his bare back against the chilly tile wall. 

“Joel,” you rasp, mouth thick with sleep. 

He cracks an eye and closes it again. “Go back to sleep. You need it.” 

“Come keep me warm,” you mumble. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The chill in his voice counteracts any good the blanket was doing. “Why?” You ask, cringing at how small your voice sounds. 

He grunts dismissively. 

“Don’t do this,” you snap. “Don’t you dare shut down.”

“Don’t worry,” he sneered. “You’ll still have the other one.”

“Don’t fuckin’ run from this. You bit me. Not the wolf.”

“Don’t talk about shit you don’t understand.”

Don’t. Don’t don’t don’t. It’s all either if you can say. There’s no room for any allowances here, only the bitter space growing between. 

You crack first. You’re allowed, you think, since you’re flayed open and raw while he gets to be untouchable. 

“Joel,” you whisper. 

His head snaps up to look at you, arms still guarding his heart. Your face must say more than you’d like, because he heaves a heavy sigh. 

“I’m the only alpha here,” he says. “You wouldn’t choose an old bastard like me out there.”

“I wouldn’t choose any of this,” you say, but it’s the wrong thing. 

“Goddamnit, darlin’, don’t you think I know that?” He stalks over, gripping your shoulders and leering down at you with a scowl. “I’m not a good man. Far from it. But before this,” he gestures at you vaguely, “that was a line I ain’t never crossed. Never put a hand on someone like that who didn’t want it.”

“Bullshit,” you say, softer than a whisper. 

“What’d you say?” He says, shadows brushing over the lines of his face as he looms over you. 

“Bullshit,” you grit louder. “I know you r-raped your last omega. The one you killed.”

He pulls away from you with a hiss, like the fever that still lingered on the edges of you had scalded him. “You know that, huh?” He growls. “S’that what you think?”

“Cheryl told me. She said you didn’t make it ten minutes without going after him.”

“Yeah,” Joel agreed. “We fought. I ain’t proud of it, but I did not rape him. Jesus Christ. S’that what you’ve thought of me this whole time?”

Despite the rage brewing in his eyes, you can see the hurt, too. More like you can feel it, and a whimper slips from your lips before you can stop it, cheeks burning as you realize your mistake. 

“I-I thought… I’m s-“

He cuts you off, cupping your cheek in one great, human paw. His thumb brushes over the dry skin there, unable to resist the pull to comfort you. That whimper damn near did him in and he can’t believe the power you have over him already. 

“Just… drop it,” he mutters, and pulls you in against his chest so you can bury your face and apologies there. His hand cups your head, a gentle stroking of his thumb on the back of your neck sending spidery shivers skittering, goosebumps bursting in their wake. 

“S’okay. I gotcha, darlin’,” he murmurs mindlessly, kissing the top of your head. 

He doesn’t need to say it, though. 

You know. 

next chapter

tysm for being patient during my hiatus. ily and i hope this lives up to your expectations i'm v nervous be niceys to me pls

[femmeroll]

✦•·················• 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐳 •·················•✦

abby anderson x fem reader | wicked au | part ii

i hope you guys enjoy the second part!! i’ve been listening to the soundtrack on repeat for days :) this chapter contains smut, so have fun fellow sluts for abby <3

it’s been a few weeks since that night. the night where you came home from the ozdust and kissed abby on the cheek. like it was no big deal.

it’s a big deal to abby, though. a huge deal.

during her ozian literature class, she daydreams about kissing you for real instead of reading her chapters.

she can’t get through eating her lunch with you in the dining hall without staring at your lips at you eat. the way your glossed lips wrap around your fork makes abby red in the face.

it’s a lot for abby to handle. you, her overly friendly, sweet, beautiful roommate will not get the fuck out of her head. it’s exhausting.

one late night, abby finds you in the dorm. on the floor. flash cards spread all over the place. you look stressed, eyebrows pinched, lips in a pout.

“hey, abs. sorry about the mess, i’m almost done.”

“no, it’s alright. what are you studying for?”

you groan. cute.

“psychology of the wicked. i’ve been studying since you left for the gym like, three hours ago.”

you’re so stressed. the class is tiring, the content is overbearing, and you’ve staring at your stupid notecards for what feels like years.

“hey, you’re okay. you study too hard. why don’t you take a break?”

something about seeing you so stressed out and upset triggers something in abby. a need to help. a need to make you feel better. to feel good.

you look up at her from the floor, eyes sad, pout still present.

“i do need a break…” you sigh. “maybe we could watch a movie? i have a DVD player.”

abby smiles. you’re just so cute, it’s literally eating her alive.

you pick out some cheesy movie about the wizard and his life, one abby has seen a million times. she doesn’t care how lame it is, or how she knows every detail about it. she gets to watch it with you.

“the wizard is so cool. i’d love to meet him someday. ask him questions and stuff.”

“yeah? if anyone deserves that chance, it’s you. you’re gonna be a great sorcerer one day.”

you blush. abby makes you blush often. when she gives you a big toothy grin, you blush. when she comes back from the gym, her muscles even more defined then usual, you blush. when you sit next to her and your knees touch, you blush.

“you will be too, abs. you impress me so much, you have no idea.”

it’s now abby’s turn to blush. but she already knows how much you affect her.

“abby. could i ask you a question? it’s a bit embarrassifying.”

abby raises an eyebrow. “yeah?”

“did you get uncomfortable when i kissed you on the cheek a couple weeks ago? i didn’t mean to upset you, if it did.”

abby’s mouth falls open.

“you…you never make me uncomfortable. you just flustered me.”

“i made you flustered?”

abby gazes at her lap. “yeah,” she replies shortly.

you don’t respond. you just…stare at her.

“you’re a really pretty girl, y/n. i’m sure you fluster people all the time.”

“oh.”

abby plays with her fingers, eyes never leaving her lap. “sorry, that’s probably weird. just forget i said-”

you cut her off with a kiss. and dear oz, abby could die right there and now. you’re kissing her. you’re kissing her.

this kiss is gentle, and a bit hesitant. you don’t know how she’ll react, not entirely sure if she really into it.

what you didn’t expect was for her to grab your hips and pull you into her lap. she’s kissing you back so desperately, so hungrily. like you’ll disappear if your lips are apart from hers for more than a second.

you whine when she starts kissing down your jaw, gripping her biceps to ground yourself. you’ve never felt like this in your life. what is this feeling? you don’t know, but it’s sudden, new, and very welcomed.

her hands trail under your skirt, feeling your soft skin under her calloused palms. “can i take your top off?”

you go a bit red, but nod. you want abby to see you. you want to do whatever she asks. right now, you have complete tunnel vision.

abby pulls your shirt off, groaning at the sight of you clad in your cute, lacy bra.

“you’re so fucking pretty, baby. can’t even stand it.”

she kisses down your neck, sucking a hickey into your chest. she feels like she’s gonna explode. she can’t believe she gets to do this. to have you like this.

your hips subconsciously buck into hers, getting incredibly needy and very flustered.

and abby loves it. she’s making you feel good, and that’s all she could ever want. she starts toying with your panties under your skirt, silently asking if she can take them off.

“yes, abs. please take them off” you whine. you need her.

she pulls them down with a smirk, relishing in the fact that you’re just so cute. even like this, you’re still so soft, so pure. it makes her heart swell and her clit throb.

abby gentle lays you on your back, positioning herself between your legs. you skirt flips up, exposing your bottom half to her.

“abby…please touch me. i need it.”

abby fucking growls. you need her. and she needs you.

her thumb meets your clit, rubbing gentle circles. you grab onto her back with a whimper, hips twitching at the feeling.

“fuck…you’re so wet, sweetie. so wet and ready for me, huh?”

you nod mindlessly. you don’t even know what she’s saying. all you can focus on is her fingers on you.

“you want me inside, yeah? you gotta say it, use your words” abby teases. “i’ll give you what you need, just gotta say it, sweet girl. c’mon.”

“yes, abby. inside. please” you whine.

abby’s brain is melting. she slowly pushes one of her thick fingers inside you, moaning at how you feel around her. wishing she had a dick so she could feel you clenching around her for real.

“so tight…holy shit. sucking me in, baby.”

it’s just one finger, but she’s filling your cunt so good. it’s like your pussy was hand crafted to take her, she’s the missing puzzle piece that needs to fit inside.

it’s almost embarrassing how sensitive you are. how badly you want to cum on her hand. you try to hold it, but you feel so full and abby is so pretty and everything is just so right.

“can i cum? please abs, can i?” you whimper, squirming under her touch.

abby moans herself, practically drooling at how effortlessly sexy you are.

“yes baby, please cum for me.”

her pace never falters, and she helps you ride out your orgasm until your legs start subtlety shaking. she slowly pulls out, rubbing gentle circles into your hip to ease the uncomfortable feeling.

after a few moments, abby finally breaks the silence.

“i hope this isn’t a one-time-thing. i really like you, like a lot, y/n.”

you nuzzle into abby’s chest, tracing her sides. “i really like you more, abs.”

abby kisses the top of your head as you drift into sleep.

whatever the opposite of loathing is, that’s what she’s feeling.

maybe, love?

i fear i wrote the end of this drunk, hopefully it doesn’t show! thank you all for the love <3 i have been changed for good! 🤍

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

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[Chapter 17] Getting to Know Each Other

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (f. and m. receiving), Praising

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Megumi stays at his grandparents’ home more often. Not because Toji wants him to, but because his grandparents insist on spending more time with his grandson since Toji is planning to move somewhere that’s even further away. They seize every opportunity with Megumi since the baby boy is growing up so fast. It works well in the sense that your relationship with Toji is developing and you need some time together alone.

Time alone to get to know each other in every possible way. Especially after a date, since you don’t have to part ways– Toji joins you into your apartment where you get to talk a little bit more, to get to know each other better. Yet the last thing you do when you lock the door is talk.

Your hands go up his chest and meet behind his neck to pull him into a kiss. He kisses you back eagerly, happy to finally have a moment alone with you. His hands land on your waist while his tongue swipes your bottom lip and enters your mouth. Your tongue presses against his while his hands go under your shirt, cold fingertips on your skin. Yet it feels like you’re burning up.

You begin to get undressed, helping each other each step of the way until you’re completely bare. Toji gets you on your bed, and gets on top of you, kissing all over your body. Loving every part of your body. Toji reaches your cunt and he kisses your folds before his tongue runs through your folds, earning a whimper from you. His tongue then focuses on your clit, and you sound so cute as you lowly moan while he flicks your clit. You sound so cute.

“Toji…” You moan as Toji begins to suck on your clit. Two fingers run through your folds, getting them wet with your slick. Toji wants to desperately comment on how wet you are, but he doesn’t want to detach himself. He loves the taste of you on his tongue, he’s never tasted something so good before.

Toji pushes his thick fingers in, filling you up. You bite down your lip as you feel his fingers move in and out of you, they’re so much thicker than your own and it drives you wild. The soft moans that leave your mouth are like music to his ears, especially since he knows that he’s making you feel good.

“It feels so good.” You moan, your back arching as Toji’s fingers curve to press against your sweet spot. It drives you insane. Your hands grip the bed sheets, feeling like you’re in heaven while Toji’s mouth works its magic. He moans against your cunt, the vibrations that his mouth sends making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He lets you know that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

When you moved here you weren’t really planning to get eaten out by your hot neighbor, but oh, right now you’re happy that’s changed. Toji treats your body as if it were his own, making you feel euphoric with every touch. You praise him, breathily telling him, “Oh you’re such a good boy.”

It serves as encouragement for him, it’s the greatest melody that his ears have come across. He adores the way his name sounds as it rolls off your tongue. It seems as if it’s the only word that you know as you repeat it over and over again. And you say it even more as your orgasm begins to approach. 

Your body tenses up, your thighs squeezing his head as your orgasm slowly begins to take over you. And just as you’re about to reach that sweet sweet high, Toji takes his fingers out and rises from between your legs with a wicked smirk on his lips. 

“I hate you.” You groan, and a chuckle leaves his lips. Toji’s lips go up to meet yours, his tongue swiftly entering your mouth but leaving as fast as it entered. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you give it a few strokes before his hand lands on top of yours and he guides it.

“Good job, baby.” He praises you, your eyes locking. His eyes are filled with lust, and that arousal flushes through you. 

“Fuck me.” You sound embarrassed to even say it just by how lowly you speak. Toji doesn’t like that– You should proudly say it. His free hand goes up to your face to squeeze your cheeks.

“Say it like you need it. Like you need it to breathe.” He orders, and you wait for him to let your face go so you can do as he tells you to.

“I need it, Toji. I need you so bad. Please, please, please.” You plead, and it feeds his ego. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds. He teases your entrance before finally pushing himself inside of you, and a gasp leaves your lips before you bite your tongue. 

Toji gives you a moment to adjust before he begins to move. He starts off with soft and slow thrusts but slowly picks up speed as you get adjusted. He’s vocal about how good he feels, he wants to let you know one way or the other that your pussy feels so good when wrapped around him.  And if that’s not enough, he tells you through gritted teeth, “So tight…”

You fear being too loud, slapping your hand over your mouth to make yourself shut up while Toji picks up speed. One hand feathers up your body, up to your breasts. He squeezes your tit before his thumb and index finger begin to play with your nipple.

“You feel so fucking good.” He tells you. He tears the hand that covers your mouth away, and presses his lips against yours. When he pulls away he says, “I want to hear you, baby.”

“The neighbors–” You remind him but he cuts you off as one of his hands moves down to play with your clit.

“I’m your neighbor.” He completely forgets about your other neighbor, but that’s alright. It’s a free show for them, at least that’s what Toji thinks. You might think completely differently, but Toji doesn’t care.

You listen to him, letting your moans roam free. You shut your eyes as you let pleasure overtake you. It doesn’t take too long for your orgasm to build up, and approach to take over you, especially after he stripped you from your last one. You moan his name over and over again, fueling his ego.

Your cunt squeezes around him, making it hard for him to contain himself. You bite down your lip as your legs spasm, your orgasm getting the better of you. And of course he praises you for it. He praises you for everything you do. “You’re such a good girl. Fuck–”

Toji’s thrusts begin to get sloppy as he nears his release. He pulls his cock out and you adjust yourself, your mouth wrapping around his cock, your hands twisting at the base of his shaft. Until Toji lets out a loud groan, his cum filling your mouth. He pulls his cock out when every drop is in your mouth, and you swallow what’s in your mouth.

You take a moment to clean yourselves up before you lay back down on your bed, your head resting on his bare chest. He hugs you, and you take in his scent. You’re both sweaty but he still smells so good.

You take a moment. You listen to his breathing– His heartbeat. It brings a smile to your lips. You’re growing to love him, and the thought would’ve scared you a couple months ago, but the more you get to know Toji, the more you appreciate every moment with him. He presses a kiss on the top of your head before he asks, “Can I sleep over?”

“Why are you even asking that? You have no option but to sleepover. In fact, I’m kidnapping you and you can never leave.” You joke, making him chuckle. His hand caresses your arm, and you feel so warm and safe in his arms. The fact that he threw a blanket over the both of you also helps.

“What about Megumi? He’s coming back soon, you know.” He reminds you.

“I’ll kidnap him too.” You respond, and he can’t really argue with that. He’d like that. Having to spend the rest of his life with you sounds like a dream actually. He isn’t sure how Megumi would react though, but Toji doubts he’ll mind too much. Until the four-year-old grows up, of course. “I have a question.”

His eyebrows perk up. He sits up in the bed, wondering how serious it is. You sit up as well, and you suddenly feel too nervous to ask the question. He says, “Shoot.”

“So… um…” You begin. It shouldn’t be hard to ask. “Are we officially dating? I mean, we haven’t–”

“I thought we were officially dating after the first date. I wouldn’t be pestering you as much if we weren’t.” He answers, making you chuckle. Relief wasn’t over you, and he lays back down. You lay back on his chest. He can’t help but joke, “Did you not think we were dating? Oh– Were you cheating on me? How many other guys are you talking to?”

“Hmm… About four other guys.” You both laugh, and he hugs you again. Making you hug him back. A moment of comforting silence passes before you speak up,

“I’m so happy with you.”

He hums, his brows raising before a smile comes to his lips.

“I’m so happy with you too.”

[celestie0]

MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)

ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️

@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au

[image pulled from her masterlist]

let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)

characterization of gojo satoru.

gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.

forbidden romance.

UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333

reader’s voice.

i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers

escapism.

everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.

writing.

the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.

—

if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!

OK BYE

[pbaz7]

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 6

AN: Alright here’s the next chapter. I think I’ll be able to post everyday if not every other day for a while. Please drop live reactions and let me know what you think so I can keep the momentum going.

TW: Suggestive language, explicit

Word Count: 3.5k

After the events of that unfortunate night two weeks ago Azzi had spent much of her time with Paige making the blonde feel better, constantly reminding her how generous and amazing she is.

Now, Azzi was stretched out across Paige’s lap, her head nestled comfortably as Paige’s fingers absentmindedly combed through her damp hair. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the TV in the background and the muffled laughter of their teammates down the hall. The post-game rush was still fresh in their veins after one of the toughest matches of the season, and they were both basking in the warm afterglow of victory.

Paige glanced down, catching Azzi’s relaxed expression, her lashes fluttering slightly as she stared at nothing in particular. For a moment, Paige allowed herself to soak in the sight, a small smile tugging at her lips. Azzi, noticing the change in Paige’s rhythm, tilted her head slightly, catching Paige’s gaze with a soft, almost lazy smile.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Azzi’s smile widened, a playful glint lighting up her eyes. “Nothing,” she said in a tone that was anything but innocent.

Paige scoffed, her fingers pausing in Azzi’s hair. “You’ve got that look again.”

Azzi blinked up at her, feigning confusion. “What look?”

“The one that says you’re about to do something, or say something, that’ll make me regret letting you lie here,” Paige teased, though the fondness in her voice betrayed her.

Azzi chuckled, shifting slightly on Paige’s lap. “Me? I’m just enjoying the view.”

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the blush creeping up her neck. “You’re so full of it.”

Azzi grinned and stretched her arms lazily above her head, her shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of toned skin and her piercing. Paige’s eyes darted briefly to the exposed skin before quickly looking away, her cheeks burning. Azzi noticed, of course, and her grin turned positively wicked.

“Caught you staring,” Azzi teased, her voice a low murmur.

“I wasn’t staring,” Paige shot back, her tone defensive but lacking any real bite.

Azzi hummed thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving Paige’s face. “You know, I think you like having me here,” she said, her voice soft and teasing.

Paige’s heart skipped a beat, but she refused to let Azzi see how easily she was getting under her skin. “And I think you like pushing your luck.”

Azzi’s laughter was light and melodic. She propped herself up on her elbows, her face now level with Paige’s, their noses almost brushing. “Only with you,” she said, her tone suddenly softer, more serious.

Paige felt her breath catch. There was a weight to Azzi’s words, a sincerity that made her heart race. The air between them grew thicker, the playful banter giving way to something deeper.

“You’re impossible,” Paige murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“And yet,” Azzi said, her gaze flickering to Paige’s lips before meeting her eyes again, “you haven’t kicked me off your lap.”

The two of them exchange a much too familiar banter.

Paige opened her mouth to respond, but Azzi leaned in, cutting her off with a lingering kiss to her cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth. Paige froze, her breath hitching as Azzi’s lips lingered just a second too long, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

Azzi pulled back slowly, her eyes dark and filled with mischief. “You know,” she said, her voice dropping to a sultry tone, “there’s nothing stopping me now.”

Paige’s pulse quickened. “Stopping you from what?” she asked, her voice coming out more breathless than she intended.

Azzi’s lips curved into a secretive smile. “You’ll see,” she said cryptically, her tone filled with promise.

Before Paige could press her further, Azzi shifted off her lap, standing gracefully. “I should go get ready,” she said casually, smoothing out her shirt.

Paige blinked, still trying to process what had just happened. “Since when do we get ready separately?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

Azzi turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips. “Since now,” she replied, her tone light but her eyes smoldering. She shot Paige a wink before sauntering toward the door, her hips swaying just enough to draw Paige’s gaze.

Paige watched her, unable to tear her eyes away. Just as Azzi reached the door, she turned back, her smirk deepening. “Don’t take too long, though. Can’t miss celebrating that big win.”

With that, she slipped out of the room, leaving Paige alone with her racing thoughts and a heart pounding in her chest.

Paige let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. Azzi was a force of nature, and Paige was caught right in the eye of the storm.

…

The energy inside Ted’s was almost overwhelming. A thick wall of heat and sound wrapped around Paige as she stepped in with Aubrey, KK, and Ice, the pulse of the music thrumming through her chest. The room was packed, filled to capacity with students still riding the high of the team’s massive win earlier in the evening. Everyone was here for one reason—to celebrate. But Paige had only one thing on her mind.

Her eyes immediately started their search. It didn’t take long to find her. Across the room, Azzi stood near the bar, leaning against the counter with an easy confidence that drew the attention of more than a few onlookers. She was laughing at something one of their teammates said, her curls framing her face, her eyes shining in the dim light. She looked effortlessly stunning.

Paige froze for a second, breath hitching. Azzi had outdone herself tonight. A sleek, tight black crop top clung to her, highlighting every dip and curve of her toned body. The fabric stopped just short of her bellybutton, revealing her abs and that damn belly button piercing that Paige couldn’t tear her eyes away from. Her shorts barely skimmed the tops of her thighs, showing off long legs that seemed to go on forever. Paige swallowed hard, willing herself to breathe. The sight alone was enough to make her head spin.

Ice noticing Paige’s reaction chuckles, “she knows exactly what she’s doing,” she muttered under her breath as she elbowed Paige lightly.

“Shut up,” Paige said, trying—and failing—to tear her eyes away from Azzi.

Azzi’s gaze lifted at that moment, as if drawn by some unseen force. When her eyes locked on Paige, her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile, one that sent a jolt straight through Paige’s chest. It wasn’t a casual smile; it was deliberate, teasing, and confident. It said I see you, and I know exactly what you’re thinking, yes this is for you. Paige’s mouth went dry.

They made their way over to the rest of the team, but Paige hardly registered the conversations happening around her. Her focus was singular. Azzi hadn’t looked away once, her gaze smoldering and unrelenting. Paige felt the weight of it with every step, her pulse quickening in anticipation.

The celebration kicked into high gear as the night progressed. Drinks flowed freely, laughter echoed, and the music’s tempo ramped up, pulling nearly everyone to the dance floor. Paige and Azzi moved in and out of the crowd, their paths crossing more frequently with each passing minute. Every time Azzi brushed past Paige, she’d let her fingers graze her arm or trail along her lower back, each touch more lingering than the last. It wasn’t long before Paige found herself gravitating toward Azzi with an intensity she could no longer ignore.

“Enjoying yourself?” Azzi’s voice was low and smooth as she leaned in, her breath warm against Paige’s ear.

Paige tilted her head slightly, her lips dangerously close to Azzi’s. “I was… until you decided to make it impossible to think straight.”

Azzi chuckled, a soft, sultry sound that sent shivers down Paige’s spine. “Good,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to let her eyes roam over Paige’s face, lingering on her lips.

Paige bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the urge to close the gap between them. Instead, she grabbed Azzi’s hand and tugged her toward the dance floor, wordlessly daring her to keep up. Azzi followed willingly, a playful gleam in her eye.

The music shifted and the crowd pressed closer. Paige turned to face Azzi, their bodies just inches apart. Azzi’s hands found Paige’s hips, drawing her in as they began to move together, their rhythms perfectly in sync. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension, every brush of their skin igniting a spark that threatened to burn out of control.

Paige’s hands slid up Azzi’s sides, her fingers grazing the exposed skin beneath her top. Azzi’s breath hitched, her eyes darkening as she leaned in, their foreheads nearly touching. The pounding bass of the music seemed to sync with the rhythm of their hearts, drowning out everything else

“You really know how to drive me crazy,” Paige said, her voice barely audible above the music, but every word was charged with desire.

Azzi smirked, her grip on Paige’s hips tightening as she pulled them flush together.. “You’re not exactly making it easy for me either,” she murmured, her voice teasing but laced with something deeper.

They swayed together, their movements growing more synchronized, more intimate. Paige let her thigh slide between Azzi’s legs, a boldness overtaking her as she felt Azzi’s breath hitch again. The closeness was electric, their bodies speaking in a silent, unrelenting rhythm. Paige’s hands slipped down to Azzi’s lower back, pulling her closer still, her touch lingering as if she couldn’t bear to let go.

Azzi’s lips brushed Paige’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine. She whispered, her tone playful yet seductive. “Were you planning to keep this side of you hidden forever?”

Paige chuckled, her face flushing despite the dim light. “Hm, only from you,” she teased, her voice husky. “But I guess that ship has sailed.”

Azzi’s laughter was low and warm, vibrating against Paige’s skin. She let her hands trail slowly up Paige’s arms, settling them around her neck as she leaned in again. “Guess you’ll have to make up for lost time, then.”

Their foreheads touched again, their breath mingling. Paige tilted her head, her lips a whisper away from Azzi’s, but she hesitated, savoring the tension between them. The room seemed to shrink around them, the crowd fading into a blur of lights and sound as they moved together.

The music shifted to a slower, sultrier beat, and Azzi took the lead, her hips rolling in time with the rhythm. Paige followed instinctively, matching her movements, their connection deepening with every pulse of the music. Paige’s fingers traced light, teasing patterns against Azzi’s back, earning a soft gasp from the younger girl.

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” Azzi murmured, her voice low with desire. “I like it.”

Paige leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of Azzi’s ear. “Only for you,” she whispered, her words dripping with intent.

Azzi pulled back just enough to lock eyes with Paige, her gaze soft but fiercely determined. “Tell me,” she said, her voice a velvet hum that sent a rush of heat through Paige. “What’s stopping us right now?”

Paige’s heart pounded, her resolve hanging by a thread. The world outside their bubble felt distant and insignificant. Nothing was stopping them. The thought sent a wave of longing through her, and she felt herself leaning further into Azzi, her walls crumbling.

Azzi’s thumb brushed against Paige’s jaw, a gentle yet deliberate touch. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, every word heavy with promise.

Paige didn’t need to be asked twice. She nodded, her breath catching as Azzi took her hand and began leading her through the sea of bodies, their heights allowing them to weave effortlessly toward the exit. Paige followed, her pulse quickening with every step. The noise and chaos of the bar faded into the background, her entire world narrowing to the girl holding her hand.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, the contrast was almost jarring. The street was quieter, the hum of distant laughter and conversation drifting lazily through the night. But Paige barely noticed. Her focus was entirely on Azzi, on the way her curls framed her face in the dim light, on the way her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath.

Azzi turned to face her, the intensity in her gaze sending a fresh wave of heat through Paige. For a moment, neither of them spoke. They just stood there, the weight of the past few weeks crashing down on them, the tension that had built between them threatening to overflow.

Without a word, Azzi stepped closer, her hands finding their way to Paige’s waist once more. Slowly, she leaned in, her lips brushing against the corner of Paige’s mouth in a teasing, lingering kiss. It was a promise, a taste of what was to come, and it left Paige wanting more.

“Let’s go,” Azzi murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige didn’t hesitate, letting Azzi lead her down the street, their steps quick and purposeful. The world around them faded into a blur as they walked, their destination unspoken but understood. They had waited long enough. Tonight, there would be no more holding back.

…

As Paige and Azzi step into Azzi's suite, the atmosphere shifts instantly. The tension between them is palpable, an electric undercurrent charging the air. They both know that, for the first time, there are no barriers—no distractions, no Jess, and no need for restraint. It's just the two of them, fully aware of what they want and finally free to act on it.

Azzi’s eyes gleam with anticipation as she locks the door behind them, leaning back against it for a moment to admire Paige. Paige, whose cheeks are flushed, gives a lopsided grin, the corner of her lips quirking up in a way that makes Azzi’s pulse quicken.

“Finally,” Azzi murmurs, her voice low and teasing.

“Finally,” Paige echoes, her voice soft but heavy with intent.

They’re hardly able to keep their hands to themselves as they make their way through the suite to Azzi’s room. Azzi’s hand brushes against Paige’s lower back, and Paige glances over her shoulder, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Careful, Azzi,” Paige says, her voice a playful warning. “I might start thinking you have ulterior motives.”

Azzi smirks, stepping closer, her breath warm against Paige’s ear. “Ulterior motives? Me? Never.”

Paige chuckles, but the sound is cut short when Azzi adds, her voice dropping an octave, “Unless you want me to.”

The words send a shiver down Paige’s spine, and she spins around, walking backward now, her gaze never leaving Azzi’s. “You’re full of it, Azzi.”

“And you love it,” Azzi shoots back, her tone confident.

Paige arches a brow, her smirk widening. “Maybe I do.”

Their banter continues as they reach Azzi’s bedroom, their words laced with growing sexual tension. Paige playfully tugs on the hem of Azzi’s crop top, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s stomach, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the younger girl.

“You’re quiet now,” Paige teases. “Cat got your tongue?”

Azzi leans in, her lips hovering just a breath away from Paige’s. “Not yet,” she whispers. “But you could.”

Once inside the bedroom, they slow down, the weight of the moment settling over them. Paige takes a step back, her playful demeanor softening. She looks at Azzi, really looks at her, taking in the way her dark hair frames her face, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, and the way her brown eyes seem to pierce through every layer of Paige’s guarded heart.

“Azzi,” Paige says, her voice quieter now. “Are you ok? Is this really what you want?”

Azzi doesn’t hesitate. She steps forward, her hands finding Paige’s. “It’s all I’ve wanted for months,” she says, her voice filled with conviction. “You’re all I’ve wanted.”

The sincerity in Azzi’s words makes Paige’s heart skip a beat. She nods slowly, a soft smile spreading across her lips. Then, without another word, she closes the distance between them, her lips capturing Azzi’s in a kiss that’s been months in the making.

The moment their lips meet, it’s as if a current of electricity shoots through them. The kiss starts slow, tender, both of them savoring the feeling, the taste, the sheer rightness of it. But the months of pent-up tension quickly take over, and the kiss deepens, growing more passionate with every passing second.

Azzi’s hands move up to cup Paige’s face, her fingers tangling in her hair, while Paige’s arms wrap around Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer. They stumble slightly, laughing against each other’s lips, but neither pulls away.

“God, you’re amazing,” Paige mutters against Azzi’s mouth before capturing her lips again.

Azzi lets out a soft whimper, and the sound drives Paige wild. She tilts Azzi’s head back, her lips trailing down to her jaw, then her neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses and marks in her wake.

They stumble toward the bed, their hands exploring, their kisses growing hungrier. Azzi tugs at Paige’s shirt, pulling it over her head in one swift motion. Paige laughs, a throaty, breathless sound, as she lets the shirt fall to the floor.

“You’re in a hurry,” Paige teases, her voice husky.

Azzi grins, her eyes dark with desire. “Can you blame me?”

Paige shakes her head, leaning in to capture Azzi’s lips again. This time, her tongue slides into Azzi’s mouth, drawing a soft sigh from the younger girl. Azzi melts into the kiss, her body pressing against Paige’s as they continue to explore each other.

Paige’s hand finds its way to Azzi’s neck, her fingers wrapping lightly around it, much like the last time. The effect is immediate. Azzi’s eyes flutter shut, a shiver running through her as she leans into Paige’s touch.

“You like that?” Paige whispers, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear.

Azzi nods, her breath hitching. “You know I do.”

Paige smirks, applying a bit more pressure, testing the waters to see just exactly what Azzi likes. “I’ve always wanted to see you lose control.”

Azzi’s eyes snap open, a challenge sparking in them. “Then make me lose control,” she says, her voice daring.

Paige’s smirk deepens, and she leans in, her lips brushing against Azzi’s as she whispers, “Don’t tempt me.”

Azzi lets out a breathless laugh, her hands trailing down Paige’s back before playing with the waistband of her sweats. “Who said I wasn’t?”

The two of them continue their heated exchange, their words becoming more daring, their touches more intimate. Paige’s lips trail down Azzi’s neck, her hands exploring every inch of her skin, drawing soft gasps and moans from the younger girl.

Azzi, not one to be outdone, pushes Paige back, climbing on top of her with a teasing grin. “I’m not the only one losing control here,” she says, her voice low.

“Taking charge, huh?” Paige teases.

“Someone’s got to,” Azzi quips, leaning down to press a kiss to Paige’s neck. “Besides, I think you like it.”

Paige’s breath hitches as Azzi’s lips trail lower, sucking on spots that’ll be sure to leave marks on the pale girl's skin. Her hands exploring every part of Paige that she’s always imagined. Paige reaches up, her fingers tangling in Azzi’s hair. “Keep going,” she whispers.

Azzi leans down, her lips brushing against Paige’s once more. “Good,” she whispers. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

After the way that made her feel Paige flips them over again not liking that she was losing in the slight battle of power. In this haste Azzi manages to snatch her own shirt off and Paige can’t help but stop to admire the girl under her. “Everything about you is perfect,” Paige whispers, causing Azzi’s heart to skip a beat.

Before Azzi can respond, Paige is kissing her tenderly again, trying to show the younger girl just how much this means to her. After some time Azzi finds herself searching for Paige’s hand to guide her exactly where she wants her.

As Paige’s hand reaches the button on Azzi’s shorts she makes sure to look up at Azzi, blue eyes filled with admiration, desire, and something softer underneath it all. “Is this ok,” she whispers.

Azzi eyes locked with Paige’s takes a heavy breath, the gentleness of Paige in this moment causing her entire body to react in ways she didn’t know possible, nods her head slowly,

With this Paige unbuttons Azzi’s shorts before slipping her hand in, the curly haired girl underneath her lifting her back off the bed in desire as she’s able to finally let her control slip away, just how Paige had wished for.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

say you’re mine (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x pornstar/camgirl!reader

summary: with the decision between seb and danny looming over you, you try to distract yourself from your feelings, but something happens that makes your walls fall apart

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! fingering, protected p in v, panic attack, safeword use

notes: omg look! rose FINALLY posted a new pornstar chapter! only two left after this one

prev part next part

The last thing you wanted was for it to become weird between the three of you. Well, weirder than it already was. The awkward air still floated around you occasionally, but your heart still melted in your chest whenever you were with either man.

Sebastian kept to his word, making sure to keep things friendly, but occasionally becoming a little too comfortable around you. An arm would find its way over your shoulders or his head would duck down to your ear as he whispered something to you. His close proximity was addictive, and it made you wonder if he knew the effect he had on you when he gave you a wicked grin.

Yet that all washed away when you were with Daniel. Still playing the doting almost-boyfriend role, he managed to make you forget about the blonde haired German when you were with him. He was all sweet words and affectionate touches. You enjoyed your time with him in his home, bundled up in his clothes, wrapped in his arms.

As much as you wished you could stay like this forever, you knew it was wrong. Someone would end up hurt, heartbroken, all because you couldn’t make a decision between the two.

It all came crashing down soon enough. You had asked Daniel if he wanted to film something. After filming a video for you and nothing for him you figured it was only fair. He was quick to insist that you didn’t have to, that he was more than happy to just keep things the way they were, afraid that filming something would make things awkward between the two of you again, or worse, drive you back into Sebastian’s arms.

He wanted this to go well, to be as perfect as it could be. He opted to film it at his house, hoping it would make you more comfortable being somewhere you were familiar with. He spent the morning making sure everything looked good while he waited for you to come over. He cleaned up the spare room you’d be filming in, he made you some food to eat beforehand, and stocked up on snacks he’d noticed you enjoyed for once you had finished filming.

He felt his heart hammer in his chest when he opened the door for you. He let out a soft hello when you flashed him the smile he longed to be the recipient of, and led you inside.

You ate the meal he’d made you like every other meal you’ve shared together, with bright smiles, bumping shoulders, and a light banter back and forth between the both of you. You helped him clean up once you’d finished eating, then made your way up to the room to film.

“So, uh, I figured we could do this a little differently? I’d like to try to be… softer?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. You see Seb in your mind, telling you almost the exact same thing.

“I like the way you are.” You tell Daniel. You reach for his hand and hold it in yours. “You don’t have to be soft with me Danny.” You tell him.

He knows you’re right, he knows that you can handle him, but when you look up at him with wide eyes, your voice sounding soft as a mouse, he’s still hesitant.

“Are you sure?” He asks you.

You nod. “I’m sure.” Then you lean up to kiss him. You kiss him hoping it’ll block Sebastian from your mind, and possibly ease Daniel’s nerves.

He gives you an unconvincing smile, then turns away to finish setting up his camera. You take a seat on the soft plush bed. You let your eyes travel around the room. It must’ve been a guest room or something. The walls were pretty bare, save for a few paintings scattered around. The dresser had a candle on it, as well as a small succulent. The drawers you’re sure were empty.

You remember the conversation you had with Daniel the first time you were at his house. He so badly wanted to fill his home with life, to have people that he loved and cared for with him. That could be me. You think to yourself. You could easily see yourself staying here with Danny, sharing a life together, turning his home into a shared space for the two of you.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when Daniel turns back to you. He gently asks if you’re alright, the glazed look in your eyes worrying him.

“I’m fine.” You smile at him. “Come here.” You take his hand and softly pull him down so that he’s seated next to you. You cup his face and press your lips to his.

The kiss starts off soft and slow, Daniel clearly hesitant in his actions. You take his hands and guide them to your hips. He holds you, his grip becoming tighter when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth.

He’s surprised that you’re so eager to take control, but he doesn’t let you get too far before he gently pushes you down and slots himself between your legs.

Your dress ends up hiked up at your hips, both of you far too eager to pull away from each other to undress yourselves. His fingers tease you over your panties as his lips travel down your neck.

“Getting excited, are we?” You can feel him smirking against your skin as he presses against the growing wet spot on your panties.

“Please Danny.” You whine tilting your hips up.

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely sweetheart.” He pulls your underwear to the side, sliding two fingers in between your folds. “Making such a mess already?” He pulls his head away from your neck to look down at you.

You moan as he pushes his middle finger inside you, followed by his ring finger. He tries to hold his own moans in as he feels you clench around his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so wet bunny.” He curls his fingers up, brushing against the little spongy spot in you.

You arch your back, and reach down to grab his wrist. “I need more Danny. I need you.” You whine.

He nods, pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean. It’s indecent, the way he softly moans at your taste as his eyes flutter closed.

He’s pulled away from his you-induced trance when he feels you tugging at his jeans. He chuckles as he watched you struggle with the button and zipper, practically tearing them and his boxers off of him.

“Alright, alright, just lay back sweetheart.” He leans over to the edge of the bed and shuffles around in a drawer. He holds a condom in his hand when he’s kneeling back over you. You’re quick to grab it, tearing it open with your teeth and rolling it onto him.

“Fuck me.” He groans.

“I’m trying to.” You grin up at him.

He gives you a similar smile, then dives down to kiss you.

This is the Danny you want. The one who’s confident, who isn’t afraid to be a little silly sometimes, who has a heart bigger than anyone else you know.

The first push inside you sends you both reeling. You gasp at the stretch, while Daniel groans at how tight you feel around him. He slowly works his way inside you, getting deeper and deeper with every soft thrust. He stills when he’s fully sheathed in you, giving you a second to adjust.

“Are you okay sweetheart?” He asks, attempting to keep his hips still against yours.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I need words.”

“I’m good Danny. You can move.” You tell him.

He slowly inches his way out of you then pushes back in, creating a rhythm.

“Faster Danny! Please!” You moan out.

He nods, this time pulling his hips away then slamming them back against you.

The moan you let out is loud, so loud you thank god Daniel doesn’t have neighbors close by.

The room his filled with his grunts and your moans and whimpers. You feel your orgasm quickly approaching. Your hands tangle in Daniel’s hair as you pull him down to kiss you.

He’s panting when you pull away, a crease between his brows, as he fucks into you.

“Danny, I’m close.” You tell him.

“Say my name.” He grunts.

“What?” You ask, surprised by his request.

“Say my name, tell me who you belong to.” His eyes are shut, he’s solely focused on his thrusts into you, that he can’t see the discomfort that settles on your face.

Suddenly it all feels like too much. His thrusts are too hard, it feels like he’s pounding against your cervix.

Your head fills with thoughts of Sebastian. Of the nights you spent together, the meals you shared, the quiet moments in his arms. You can see him in your head almost kissing you again.

Then you see Daniel. You see the life you could have together. The happiness he brings you and the peace he’d give you. You see him in the swimming pool, laughing as he’s drenched from the water.

You can feel your chest becoming tighter, your breathing becoming almost difficult.

“Say you’re mine.” His words sound too much like a command.

“Red!” You practically shout, pushing against his chest.

It’s almost like a flick of a switch, just how quickly Daniel pulls away from you, a soft, worried look in his eyes.

You pull your dress back over your legs, heaving as you try to calm down.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” He reaches out.

You flinch away from his touch.

“I’m sorry, I just- I need to go.” You quickly get uo and rush out of the room.

Daniel follows you, tugging his boxers and jeans back up.

“Y/n, wait, please, we can talk about whatever happened-”

“I’m sorry Daniel. I just- I can’t be here right now, I have to go.” You tell him before you rush out his front door.

You practically run to your car, and speed off down the road. You must be breaking traffic laws, with just how fast you make it back to your home.

You finally take a deep breath once you’re parked. You turn the car off as a shudder runs through you. You lean down and rest your head against the steering wheel, letting out a sob you were surprised you were able to hold in for so long.

[babsharrison]

Safe Haven - John Wick

(Prologue)

Pairing | John Wick x Original Fem! Character

Summary | In search of a breath in his tumultuous life, John Wick finds himself in a charming bookstore where he meets a sweet and welcoming woman. As they grow closer, John questions whether she can love him despite the dark secrets he carries. While battling the shadows of his past, he must protect the love that is blossoming and discover if hope and redemption are truly possible.

A/N | Hi luvs, I'm going to post the prologue of this fic I'm writing, but I'm in doubt about whether to continue this series or if it's good enough to keep going. Any feedback would help me a lot!

John Wick walked down the quiet streets, the soft glow of streetlights reflecting on the damp pavement. The air was cool, carrying the scent of rain and earth. He wasn’t running, wasn’t being chased. For once, the silence of the night wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, though his guard was never fully down. He needed a moment to breathe, away from the endless chaos.

Passing by a small bookstore, his steps slowed. The window display was simple—old books stacked in rows, with a single potted plant resting in the corner. It wasn’t the kind of place that drew much attention, but for some reason, John felt drawn to it.

He opened the door, the bell jingling lightly above him. Inside, the store smelled of leather, paper, and something sweet—like freshly brewed tea. The place was cozy, a contrast to the hard, cold streets outside. A soft voice drifted from the back of the shop.

“I’ll be right with you!”

John stayed still, scanning the shelves as his fingers brushed against the spines of books, some worn and aged, others new. His eyes caught a glimpse of a small table in the corner, where a tea set sat beside a worn book, pages marked with a ribbon.

“Sorry for the wait!”

A woman appeared from behind a stack of books. She was holding a mug in one hand, her other hand adjusting the frames of her glasses. Her smile was warm, her eyes kind—completely unaware of who stood before her.

John offered a slight nod, still not speaking. She didn’t seem fazed by his silence, instead setting down the mug and stepping closer.

“Not many people come in this late. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

John opened his mouth to respond, but found himself hesitating. He didn’t need anything. At least, not in the way she thought. “No,” he finally said, his voice low. “Just… looking.”

She gave a gentle laugh. “I get it. Sometimes it’s nice to get lost in a book, or in the quiet.” She leaned against the counter, her gaze soft as she studied him. “You seem like someone who appreciates quiet.”

John’s jaw tightened for a second, not out of discomfort, but because her words struck deeper than she realized. “Yeah,” he muttered.

“Well, if you need a recommendation, I’m here,” she said with a small shrug, her tone light. “Otherwise, feel free to wander.”

John gave a small nod of thanks and continued walking through the aisles. Something about the bookstore—about her—was soothing. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel the weight of his past bearing down on him.

He wasn’t John Wick, the assassin. Not here. Not with her.

Next chapter!

[beardedjoel]

smother - part iii: compliance

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: the deeper you fall into his trap, the further you start to lose a sense of what you really want. 10.4k words chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, coercion, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55), ddlg (no infantilization of reader) daddy!dom joel is coming out to play this chapter, fingering, handjob, joel's corruption kink confirmed here, joel is both mean (hurts reader briefly) and sweet once again, if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling! a/n: oh we're SO back with some smut this chapter! this story has me pushing my own limits on creativity and stuff and that has really been rewarding so far, i love it and i love dark!joel. anyhoooo please enjoy my lovelies 🤍 reminder i have no taglist anymore! follow @beardedjoel-updates and turn on notifs for when i post there!

It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay…

Joel’s words echo in your ear from where they were whispered moments ago as he pressed himself into you from behind, urging you up the stairs towards his bedroom. One hand gripped firmly on your upper arm, the other on the small of your back, fingers exploring along your bare skin. You turn back once more with worried, widened eyes as you reach the top of the steps and he presses against you again, nearly pushing you. 

“I got ya, sugar” he says quietly, stopping for a moment to nuzzle into your neck before pushing you along. The new pet name he’s trying out makes you blink a few times, half liking the sweet implication. His deep breath in and out tickles your skin and you suddenly feel itchy from his facial hair scratching there. Panic claws its way up from your stomach, suddenly unsure of everything, like you’re just snapping out of the stupor you were in from Joel’s lips. 

Joel had made you feel good downstairs just moments ago, giving you that first, unforgettable kiss. It was so much more hungry and wet and passionate than you’d ever envisioned a kiss being, and it made you feel even more anxious that you truly were out of your depth here. 

You’ve managed in your fog to pad your way to Joel’s bedroom with him close behind you, his heat seeping into your skin, his body close enough to morph right into yours. He spins you immediately to face him and starts to kiss you again the moment you’re inside his bedroom. After just a moment of surprise, you fall right back into it, his tongue dancing a perfect rhythm against yours and you whimper and moan quietly. You find your body wanting to be closer closer closer to him so you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers grazing right against the curls at the base of his neck. 

Joel pulls back to smile down at you, a wicked thing as his eyes glint before he dives back in. He’s devouring you, hands all over your body as if he doesn’t know which spot to get enough of next. He’s suddenly lifting you up, large palms spread underneath your thighs as he hoists you up against him, carrying you so that you don’t have a chance to stop him from bringing you to his bed. 

That same bed you’d seen him just hours earlier, the moment that had started this fucked up chain of events you’d fallen into.

“There we go, jus’ relax,” Joel coos as he lays you down flat, your head right against the mattress. He climbs on top of you, trapping you completely before his lips smash into yours again. He’s taking now, giving you no room to push back or speak as his tongue laps into your mouth over and over, hearty groans escaping him. Sounds that a famished man makes eating his favorite meal. It makes you shudder, the way you’ve started to feel like his meal, like something he could just enjoy and toss away the scraps he leaves afterwards. 

“Christ, so fuckin’ innocent, sugar. I’ll teach you so many things to do w’that tongue,” he comments slyly after you hesitantly try to use your tongue in the same way as he was. Joel’s lips drag down your chin to your neck and start to suck on various spots, a little soft at first to test you but more hurried and rough the longer he goes. His body grinds against yours a bit and you lay back, feeling breathless. Your body burns and burns as he marks you and moves against you, your thighs aching all the way to the apex. 

You squirm a little bit, a foreign discomfort completely taking over, and Joel pulls back to look down at you. He strokes the side of your head from your forehead all the way back, looking at you with warmer eyes. 

“Gonna be okay, I’ll show ya how good you can feel…” he murmurs as his fingers start to trace along your bottom lip. “Now I’m gonna peek at a little more of ya,” he announces before sliding down your tense body, straddling your legs before hooking his fingers in your sweatpants. They’re down and shoved off your legs before you can even process it, leaving you in just a pair of plain white panties. His eyes roam up every inch of your body, white heat flickering low in your belly at the way Joel looks at you. 

“Now that’s a sight…” He smirks, sliding his hands up your thighs to rest on your hips, treating each spot he touches with a new reverence. You’ve started to tremble a little, the chilly air biting at you along with this vulnerable feeling, being so exposed. 

“Y-you like the way I look?” you ask tentatively, having to clear your throat from lack of use. Your sudden urge for validation from him strikes you hard and you silently curse yourself. 

Joel smiles at the unexpected question from you and gives you a singular nod. “‘Course I do. You’re real beautiful, sweetheart. ‘Specially like this.” His eyes land between your legs as he says the last words, licking his lips out of habit. He slinks up next to you, laying close to you and wrapping an arm around you, enveloping you in everything Joel.

“Now don’t ya feel safe here like this? Got me right here holdin’ you, gonna make it all okay.”

You just nod, swallowing the anxious lump in your throat. “I’m… just scared…” you admit, willing your cheeks to stop burning hot with all the emotions swirling around inside of you. Desire, embarrassment, discomfort, doubt - all mixing up to create a disastrous thundering of your heart inside of your chest. 

“Baby, nothin’ to be scared of…” Joel coos, kissing your shoulder and peppering them across the top of your chest as he leans over your body. 

“You’re not gonna hurt me?” you wonder aloud. You’d heard stories through the grapevine of other girls - fearful stories of pain or blood that had nearly revolted you at the time, made you almost glad there were no men paying that type of attention to you just yet. You’d always hoped they were just exaggerated tales, and you suppose you’re finally about to find out for yourself. 

“I’ll be honest, sweet girl. This might hurt a little bit. Just ‘cause it’s your first time.” His lips suckle at the swell of your breast and you squirm a little, back arching into it as your breath hitches. You try to focus back on his words as his lips move an inch and do the same motion, a gentle sucking so close to your nipple now that you nearly puff your chest in his direction, hoping his mouth will land there next. 

“But it’s such a special kind of love a man can show ya on your first time, darlin’. Get to have all of you…” he muses, his warped excitement becoming more palpable by the second, filling the room and stifling the air. “I’ll be gentle,” he adds on as he sees another spark of fear on your face. 

“You’ll be gentle…” you repeat quietly, squeezing your eyes shut in some type of silent prayer. You feel the needle-like prickle of tears behind your eyes again, begging yourself to do anything but cry right now. You dig your nails deep into your palms, squeezing your fists tight to keep the pain there instead of burning deep in your stomach where it’s settled. 

How can you be this close to all of it and still so unsure? Would you ever be sure? Or is this how everyone feels during their first time?

Joel finally pops one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking harder while his hand plays with your free nipple, rolling it between his fingers. You cry out at the unexpected sensation and wriggle your body, only to be held down a little harder by Joel. 

“Mm-mm,” he hums, “No squirmin’ away.” His mouth quickly finds a home on your breasts again as you try to still your body, not wanting to make him upset. You’d seen how he behaved when he was upset with you, and it was not something you found yourself wanting to repeat. 

”Pretty little nipples, sweetheart,” Joel says, talking at your chest while he flicks his tongue on the hard bud, unrelenting in his tasting of your sweet, supple skin. “Look at ‘em all day if I could. Half a mind to have you walk ‘round w’your tits out all the time.” He chuckles dryly before he sucks again, a little harder and you bite back the gasp that sticks in your throat at the jolt of pleasure it sends rocking through your body. “You’d do that f’me, wouldn’t you? Jus’ to get a little of ‘ol Joel’s attention?”

His words make you itchy, almost, in a strange, foreign way, one that’s hard to explain even to yourself. Like you want to crawl out of your skin, yet want to hear his words over and over, hear more of the things he sees in you, would want from you. You’d never found yourself to be someone with much to offer anyone, really, and hearing Joel already find so much to dote on is inflicting you with the most unexpected addiction you could have imagined.

You feel Joel’s fingers squeeze your chin suddenly, your eyes flicking open to glance down at him. “Answer me when I’m speakin’ to you,” Joel says softly despite the commanding tone of his words. 

“I - yes,” you answer, tripping over the single word as you push it out in a hurry. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs in response, leaning up to peck a kiss on the spot on your chin he’d been gripping. “Now you’re gonna let me make you feel good, ain’t ya? Let me treat you like a princess, show you what all the other men shoulda done but were too dumb. Chance with a pretty girl like you,” he rambles with a little scoff. “All meant f’me, anyways.” His conclusion seems to satisfy him as he grins, taking in your body with a hot gaze, lingering at the base of your stomach where his hands are itching to go. He doesn’t wait for your answer this time, sliding his hand right down, skillfully touching your soft skin the entire way.

Joel’s fingers start to trace the band of your panties, that satisfied grin still plastered on his face as he watches your reactions - your little sharp inhales and small twitches of your face as you feel him exploring your body. His eyes can’t help but drift down to watch your chest heave, pert tits on display and abused, hard nipples poking out into the air. He has a tempting thought to spend his entire night with his face buried right there, but he has more pressing matters to get to, he reminds himself as he feels his cock twitch inside his jeans. 

He suddenly sighs as he pads the outside of your underwear, his face nearly pained looking in his ecstasy. “You’re soaked f’me, sugar,” Joel says, breathless. You feel yourself flush hot, your cheeks burning, thinking this has to be something to be embarrassed about, something that shows your lack of experience and your fear.

“‘S not a bad thing,” Joel tells you quickly, seeming to read your mind yet again. He doesn’t stop, his fingers teasing the fabric that starts to seep onto his digits. “Means you like all this, means your body is tellin’ us you’re ready.”

“Oh,” you say flatly, feeling dumb for not having much better to say. “I- uh, are you going to do it now, then?”

Joel chuckles, a genuine sound ringing through the quiet room, like he’s amused. “Christ,” he breathes out, swirling his fingers along the fabric, making your hips jump as he brushes your bundle of nerves. “You’re too cute, so perfect f’me. I get to teach you everythin’.”

Your brain can barely register his words, too focused on that little spasm that had just rocked its way through your body when Joel’s fingers touched along that sensitive spot. You blink, biting your lip as his fingers tease everywhere but there, silently urging him to brush there again.

Joel huffs another laugh watching your contorted, concentrated face. “Already fucked out, can’t think about nothin’ but these fingers, huh?” he teases you, amusement lacing his voice. His fingers make a tight circle over your clothed clit and you inhale sharply through your teeth, stifling a little noise from deep in your chest. “That what you wanted? Jus’ desperate f’me to touch your clit, sugar?”

You shake your head, completely overwhelmed by the absurdity of this feeling. “I don’t - I don’t…” you murmur, trying to convince yourself for what feels like the final time that you don’t want any of this. That you don’t feel an amoral, wicked pull towards this man that you shouldn’t - this man who has treated you like prey, is far too old to be interested in you, who by all accounts should be sending you fighting and running. A man you know likely has debased plans for you that you can barely even conjure up in your own mind, but plans that you are slowly realizing you want to be a part of, are curious about. 

His care, his touch, his infatuation. They could all be yours, if you’d let him.

“Think you do… look at you, innocent little thing. Wrestlin’ w’yourself. Nothin’ wrong happening here, honey.”

You look to his dark eyes, seeking guidance, reassurance. “I-it’s not? I feel so…” You can’t put any of it into words for him, how intense the feeling is, how badly your body is craving something that you don’t know anything about yet. How dirty you feel for wanting it with him.

He shakes his head slowly to try and convince you. “Mm-mm. I feel it too, sugar. ‘S jus’ attraction, desire. Makes you burn all hot in here, don’t it?” he asks, cupping your aching, wet cunt through your panties. You gasp at the fullness of his hand against your throbbing folds while you nod fervently, taking in a deep breath to steady yourself as his fingers curl and then drag up your clothed slit. Your head arches back a little and you let out a tiny mewling sound through closed lips. Your mind muddles instantly, eyes rolling back as he repeats the motion, this time letting his fingers trail off to the edge of your panties, teasing the hem there.

“Thas’ it, let yourself enjoy it, princess. Let daddy take care of you.”

He’s barely controlling himself now, his breath heavy against your neck as he starts to move with more urgency, teeth scraping against your delicate skin. Your brow furrows quickly at the new reference to himself but his teeth sink into your flesh with a soft nip, pulling your mind back to the present. 

“You’re gonna like this,” he murmurs quietly into your skin as his fingers fiddle one final time at your waistband before wiggling under, diving deep and sliding his fingers right into your wet slit. 

“Oh… m-my, g-“ you whimper as quietly as you can when he slips them back and forth a few times, brushing your clit on each one, gathering up a lewd amount of slickness on his fingers. He spreads your wet folds delicately, feeling his way around almost respectfully, desperate breaths puffing out of his nose.

“Poor baby… soakin’ yourself this whole time… never even knowin’ how good you could feel, how much y’need a cock in here,” Joel says, sounding truly devastated for you. His brazen language makes your head spin and your cheeks flourish with warmth. And then it finally happens - his fingers swirl over your clit again. 

You cry out loud this time, unable to hold it back when his circling tightens and he puts more pressure down on the aching little bud. The heat from between your legs starts to spread to your lower belly, pulling taut and warm as it settles there.

“Oh…” you murmur, back arching when Joel adds a second finger to the motion. Your legs shake a little as they lay flat on the bed, knees starting to bend of their own volition to help your hips start to wriggle closer to his touch. You stutter out another moan when his fingers press harder, the feeling shooting what feels like sparks through your entire bloodstream, straight to your head. You’re foggy, thoughts clouded over as everything else starts to fade out. Your mind pinpoints on Joel’s touch, practically seeing just his fingers in your mind's eye and the sensation that’s quickly boiling in your core, tightening with each movement he makes. 

“Yeah, feelin’ so good ain’t you princess?” Joel coos with a grin, making his movements a little faster. “First one to touch this little clit, first one to see ya like this, writhin’ around like an animal in heat. God…” He marvels at your microexpressions, the contortions of your body, the way he can see you’re holding back, not wanting to seem too eager. 

“Let go, sweetheart. Be loud f’me. Be loud f’daddy,” Joel urges you, eyes practically bugging out of his head as he sees you start to sheen a little with sweat, your body hot and tingling next to him. He smirks as he slips a finger down, eliciting a desperate cry from you when it leaves your clit to tease your entrance. 

“D-daddy…” you start, meaning it as more of a question, wanting to understand what he’s getting at, but it trails off into a pathetic little cry when the tip of his index finger pushes into you unexpectedly.

Joel has died and gone to heaven, if his expression is any indication as he breathes out shakily, hardly in control of his actions at this point. “Thas’ right, thas’ right, princess. Call out f’me while I’m inside ya.”

“F-fuck,” you let slip out. “Y-you’re inside?” you ask him in slight disbelief that it’s really happening. You go completely breathless as he starts to play with your clit again, using his thumb to flick urgently there while he lets his finger settle inside of you. 

Joel wriggles his finger deeper, burying his index finger almost to the hilt as he nods, turning your head with his free hand to make sure you’re looking at him. 

“Naughty little thing, cursin’ cause daddy made you feel that good.” He smirks, letting you sweat it out for another moment before answering your question in a softer voice, almost sweet and caring. “‘M inside, sugar. Feels so fuckin’ good, too. Perfect, tight little hole all f’me.”

You’ve become a trembling mess, the fullness from Joel’s finger overwhelming you. The tingling warmth spreads to your belly from where he starts to move his finger, slowly at first.

“Yeah, there we go, takin’ me so well,” Joel mumbles as you relax around his finger, pressing in and out in sloppier motions. You gasp when his finger presses in to the hilt, then he repeats it over and over, filling you up. Your hips twitch and grind a little into him, into the feeling of his thumb flicking carefully at your clit.

“O-oh…” you whimper out, gushes of warmth coating Joel’s finger, running down onto his hand. He grunts an approving noise as he feels the way your body pours out slickness for him. This is pure heaven, he concludes to himself, nothing in the world could be sweeter than the feeling of taking this from you and getting so much in return.

“Christ, you are perfect,” he says near your ear. “This okay, princess?”

You just give him a nod, barely able to speak as your entire body starts to feel warmer and drawn tight, Joel’s finger on your clit moving at an achingly slow pace.

“Gonna feel somethin’ for just a second, mkay?” he says quietly, not bothering to clue you in any further before retreating his index finger and snuggling his middle finger right next to it, inserting them both into your weeping entrance.

Joel breathes a sigh, the air fanning across your bare chest. “Mmm, so tight, baby. Thas’ it, just focus right on me,” he says as your eyes open wide and look right into his. You feel the burn from his second finger, so thick and wide in comparison, your body adjusting to the new sensation.

“J-joel…” you whimper quietly when he starts to move them with more force, your brow furrowing with the strange mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“Y’need to relax, c’mon,” he urges, using his free hand to rub gentle circles on your shoulder. “Promise we’ll get you feelin’ real good, sweetheart. We gotta get you all stretched out to fit all ‘f me.” He rubs a soothing hand on your shoulder with his free one, shushing you when he sees the look of worry on your face. 

“Jus’ enjoy it.”

His words echo in your mind as you start to fully embrace all the sensations. You feel a burning heat in your core start to radiate, pulling tight, so tight it’s nearly maddening before your hips shift the tiniest bit and find your release, the tightness completely snapping from one moment to the next. 

“Oh my god… oh my god… oh…” you cry out, feeling yourself starting to shake, your entire body ravaged by oncoming waves and waves of pleasure. 

“Look at me when you come, princess,” Joel says sternly as he grasps your face, turning your head in his direction. You slowly creep your eyes open and see his dark pools full of a sense of smugness and wonder. “God, fuck, that’s good, keep comin’ f’me,” he breathes out, feeling your slick pouring out onto his hand as you come. 

You’ve never felt so amazing in your entire life, the only thought you can think is more more more as you moan loudly, any shame in doing so long gone when you feel this incredible. White heat envelops you, sending your vision speckled and your back arching off the bed completely, your hips spasming down to where Joel sloppily yet expertly fucks you with his fingers. You grip at the sheets with one hand, Joel’s shirt with the other, squeezing them both to try to hang on to reality. 

“Good girl, good little girl… god you’re pretty when you come,” Joel says, talking you through it. His fingers are merciless until the last second, when your hips drop to the bed with a sudden thud, your entire body limp, only your hips jumping with a need to get away from the overstimulation. 

“Oh, that was a big one, now, wasn’t it?” Joel asks softly, pulling his hand from between your legs and resting it on your thigh, his other still soothing on your cheek. Your eyes flutter and roll back as you catch your breath, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened. 

“Uh-huh…” you murmur dazedly, your hand still resting on Joel’s chest after letting go of his shirt. 

Joel peppers your face with soft, loving kisses, finally reaching your lips and kissing you deeper. You’re lost, somewhere in another dimension completely, kissing him back without any knowledge of doing so. The warmth of his lips starts to bring you back and you flutter your eyes open as he pulls back. 

“Y’did real good. How’d that feel, huh, sugar?” Joel inquires, looking down at you expectantly. 

“S-so… good… I can’t explain…”

“Mhm, I know what ya mean,” he replies sweetly, “Hard to explain, jus’ all that pleasure. Loved makin’ you feel that good, honey.” Joel leans in to kiss your cheek, using his hand to tilt you towards him and plants another kiss on your lips. You moan quietly, body overstimulated and exhausted, the now empty space between your legs aching and tingling for him.

You roll your head back onto the pillow, unable to respond. Joel places a hand over the one of yours that rests on his chest and rubs his thumb over the back. 

“Gonna make you feel like that all the time,” he says with an oddly devoted, sweet tone, leaning down and surprising you with another kiss. Your eyes open again and he’s looking at you with that look again. “So much more we could do,” he adds, shifting his smile into something more hungry again. 

“Wh-“ you start to ask, and Joel’s finger touches your lip gently. You can taste the remnants of yourself on it - such a strange, foreign flavor that makes you smack your lips a little. Joel’s amusement at your response shows quickly on his face as he traces his finger along your lips with a soft smile.

He starts to sit up and lean back on the bed, sending your hand dropping from his chest, a quick bounce on the mattress before it stills. His hands reach to his waist, fingers working at his belt. You stare, eyes transfixed on his every move as your heart starts to beat more quickly, anxiety flooding your system as you toil over what comes next. 

“Ain’t done with you yet, sweet girl,” he mumbles, belt now hanging loose and open while he palms himself outside of his jeans. Your mind races at the prospect of seeing what you saw from afar this morning just this much closer. Joel reads your deer in the headlights expression and smirks, head cocked as he looks down at you, sitting next to you on the bed, knees pushed into the mattress. 

You swallow hard, the apparent lump sliding down your throat and it makes your cheeks burn how openly nervous you are. Joel strokes a hand gently down the side of your head before pushing off the mattress and standing next to the edge of the bed. 

“Time f’you to see a real man, in all his glory,” Joel says, teasingly, like he knows something you don’t. And he does, you suppose, know a lot of things that you don’t in this regard.

He starts to peel off his jeans, letting them pool by his ankles, belt buckle clanging all the way down before he steps out of them. He has on a pair of dark boxer briefs, hard to tell if they’re black or navy in the fading evening light of his bedroom. All you can focus on is the apparent bulge there, knowing what’s underneath, that shockingly large part of him he’d stroked earlier because of you.

He wastes little time pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his hulking, muscular form, soft yet hard, toned and strong but fleshy and dusted with salt and pepper curls of hair, leading right down to the waistband of his briefs.

Your eyes flick from between his thighs to his face, searching his eyes for any kind of assurance, any kind of assistance in how to act, what to do next. He just remains as cocky as ever, hand grazing the outside of the tented fabric as he stares down at you with hooded eyes.

“You wanna see it, babygirl? Wanna touch daddy’s cock?” He rubs himself a little faster, a tiny growl suppressed in his chest while he awaits your answer. “Know you do, know you’re such a curious girl.”

You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth and nod, swallowing hard again. “Y-yes, I want to see,” you finally say, meek and shaky, shrinking in on yourself like you’re preparing for a bomb to go off, afraid of what you’re about to witness. In what feels like a flash, his briefs are down on the ground, Joel’s cock springing free almost violently as it slaps against him. You stare for a moment, taking in the way it juts out from his body - rock hard, shiny pink head dripping and veins running along the length of him. You feel speechless, unsure if there’s something you’re supposed to say when a man shows you his penis.

“C’mon a little closer, princess, you can look, s’okay,” Joel says, calm and quiet. “Crawl over here.”

You hesitate a moment and push yourself up on the bed to get on your hands and knees. While it’s not a far distance, just a few paces and you’re to the side of the bed where Joel stands, he revels in the sight of you doing it, his lip caught between his teeth as he gently plays with himself. 

“Pretty girl,” Joel murmurs when you reach him, putting his hand along the back of your head and stroking once before holding on to keep you in a position to stare directly at his cock. It’s threateningly large right in your face like this, and you feel yourself shudder a bit as you watch Joel’s free hand gently touching all along the length. 

“Now, I want y’to touch it, can you do that, sweetheart?”

You hand hovers, your teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek as you peer at his member with a lack of confidence. 

“C’mon now,” Joel says, grabbing your wrist, moving your stalled, floating hand to his cock, settling your fingers on the head. Your stomach turns with the strangeness of all of this - the way you had given in to him and now felt like it was impossible to go back. Joel is gently nudging your hand, trying to urge you to move, and it brings you back to the present moment where you blink hard and focus on him again. 

“Sh-should I do this…?” you ask quietly, letting your fingers graze the head in a swirling motion, unintentionally picking up the beads of precum leaking out and you nearly pull back. Joel chuckles at your brief reaction to the liquid, then nods. 

“That’s good, real nice,” he says softly. “Touch it all over now, no need to be shy with me, okay?”

You press your lips together, unable to even look him in the eye due to your strange combination of being flustered and mortified. You can only find yourself staying focused on what you’re doing with your hands, making sure it’s right for him.

“What did I say about answerin’ me when I’m speaking to you?” Joel says a moment later, tugging on your hair to lift your gaze up to his. You wince, wishing he’d be a little more gentle with your scalp, and he sees your expression and only tightens his grip.

“I-I’m s-sorry. Um…” you take a deep breath, trying to calm your quaking hands. “Like this?” you ask him, using your fingertips to glide down the length of his cock, all the way to the base where a patch of thick curls sits. That seems to please him, a kinder smile on his face now when he nods in approval.

“Lean forward and spit right on there f’me,” he says, looking down at you and gesturing between his thighs. “Need to get it nice and wet f’daddy to feel good, okay?”

Your mouth hangs open in a stunted silence, your body unable to move without his assistance right now as he drags your hand along his dry cock. He grunts in exasperation before tugging back on your haIr again, forcing your face into a contorted wince.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, you know that, right? Y’jus’ need a firm hand, baby, helpin’ you figure all this stuff out. So why don’t ya go on ahead and do as I say, sweetheart, hm? It’d make me real happy.” His words are silken, laced with his country accent and that hidden malice he carries within him, every step, every word showing it to you, drawing you in further.

You bow your head a little as he loosens his grip, letting you decide for yourself now. “I-I’m sorry, you’re right, I- uh, d-do need your help,” you whine obediently, feeling your scalp starting to throb a tiny bit. 

Joel scratches at your head for a moment, watching you lean down closer to his cock. “Good girl, there ya go.” You can hear him smirking as you tentatively spit on his cock, watching the saliva settled on the top before dripping around the side. “Don’t be afraid, want ya to drool on it, baby, don’t worry ‘bout gettin’ messy.” He nudges your head forward and you breathe out a shaky breath before trying to desperately gather up any amount of saliva your drying mouth will offer you. You open your mouth, letting your tongue hang down before forcing yourself to spit watching more dribble onto the center of his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel grits through his teeth, feeling the sudden warm wetness of your saliva on him. “Thas’ it - f-fuck, now wrap your hand ‘round it,” he commands urgently, immediately negating any need for the words by wrapping his own hand more firmly around yours, sending your fingers curling around his length. 

“Look at that, sugar, barely even fit that little hand around me,” he says with an arrogant grin, starting to move your hand in strokes, gathering up all the slickness you’d just provided. The sound starts to reverberate through the room, that same noise you’d heard outside his door earlier.

You’re starting to feel like merely a passenger as he jerks on himself quicker using your hand, sitting in front of him almost completely naked, the real version of what he was picturing this morning as he pleasured himself. Joel smiles even more at the fantasy coming to life right before his eyes, your little panties the only thing he has left to remove before he’s seen all of you. And by god, does he want to see all of you. See what he has no doubt looks just as perfect as it felt around his fingers while he buried them inside of you.

“Take ‘em off,” Joel says as the thought pops into his head, staring down between your legs, his eyes practically glimmering.

“D-do I have to…?” you stammer out, suddenly wishing you could put back on every piece of clothing that’s now scattered between here and the kitchen downstairs.

“Now c’mon darlin’,” Joel snips, frowning a little. His hand continues to jerk yours along a little more aggressively as his breathing picks up. “Jus’ want to see your pretty body, baby girl, thas’ all. It’ll help me feel extra good right here,” he says, squeezing your hand as it moves along his cock.

You reach down and start pulling on the waistband of your panties, a little awkwardly as Joel holds your other hand hostage. You shimmy them down and sit closer to the edge of the bed, where Joel suddenly wraps his arm around your back and pulls you to the edge, leaving your legs dangling off on either side of his knees.

Joel’s hand grips at the side of your face, cupping your cheek less than delicately as he pants out, your hand moving quicker and quicker along his cock. You feel a rush of heat in your body similar to when Joel had been touching you earlier. That arousal cropping up low and deep in your belly, that feeling you want to ignore when it comes to Joel. But looking at him - sheening with sweat, his enticingly soft yet muscular belly right in your face, his face turning a shade more red with effort as he puffs out his quick breaths has you nearly squirming where you sit. It’s intimate, it’s sexual, you realize, something he’s giving to you just as much as you are him. 

“Fuck,” he spits out, tugging your hand off his cock and pushing you down with a swift shove to your chest. You fall back to the bed, nearly emotionally wounded when you notice his eyes still raking all over your body. 

“Lemme jus’ look at ya, fuck, put your legs up, show me that pretty cunt,” he demands, his hand flying back to his cock to continue stroking it as you prop your legs up on the bed, giving him the view he’s asking for. He groans loudly, deep and guttural as his eyes are glued to your glistening sex, a new slickness dripping out from the way he’s looking at you. You’ve never felt sexy before, desired, and even though the circumstances are never what you’d envisioned, you’re completely enamored with the feeling of it. Already craving more of it.

“Can’t wait to sink my cock into that tight little pussy,” he murmurs to himself, but you feel your entire body tensing at his words, taken by surprise that it might be happening right now.

Joel’s mouth curls in that devious but handsome way to the side as he sees your change in demeanor. “Shh, shh, not yet, sweetheart. Wanna keep you pure jus’ a little bit longer f’me,” he breathes out with a wink in your direction. 

Less controlled smacks of his fist against his skin fill the air of the room. You’re practically holding your breath, watching everything unfold as his cock throbs and twitches in his hold. He just watches your innocent, fascinated expressions move over your face and continues smirking down at you. 

“One thing at a time for my princess. Take you piece by piece, won’t I?” He seems so pleased to be the decider here, to say what you get, and don’t get. How he controls how he uses your body. It makes his cock throb achingly in his hand, just the thought of it alone. His to use. His to show all the pleasure. His to keep. 

He watches your lips, waiting for them to move, to answer his question. “Y-yes…” you whisper meekly. Joel groans at your compliance and his eyes flutter for a moment. He’s so close now. You understand that same feeling that had come over you for the first time not very long ago. 

“Yeah, princess, daddy’s gonna come all over you now. Tell me, say it. Say you want daddy to come all over you.” He breathes heavily, little groaning whimpers as he goes harder, his cock angry and red from the way he’s tugging on it. “Say it,” Joel booms out, and you start at the intensity of his voice, curling in on yourself for a moment. 

“I- I want daddy to come o-on me… a-all over me,” you say, hoping it’s loud enough for him to hear, that you won’t have to repeat it again. The name slides awkwardly off your tongue, wishing to understand it, make sense of why it made your core tingle for just a moment when you said the words. 

“God, bet you do, yes, fuck, daddy’s gonna come now, paint that perfect body with it,” Joel punches out before his hips stutter forward, his hand giving a few jerks as he starts to come hard, the white stickiness splattering onto you - your stomach, your breasts, even where your legs lay open for him to look at as his own personal little show. He heaves as the final bits spill out and he leans his head back, sighing. 

“God damn, so good, baby girl. You did amazing,” he coos, climbing onto the bed next to you. He sits while you lay motionless, nearly stunned from what you’d witnessed, the constant reminder of it in the form of his warm liquid dripping along your body. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says more softly, picking up your discarded panties and carefully swiping his mess off of you with them, curling his body close to yours. 

“That’s better,” he announces, holding the white cotton up to inspect the way his cum stains them now with a wry smirk. He sets them aside on his nightstand before his hands slip underneath your back and your legs to cradle you, pulling you into his lap. He sits back on the bed, nestling the both of you against the headboard as he settles you across his thighs. “This okay?” he asks, stroking your back. 

“Mhm.” You nod quietly and thread an arm around his torso, intertwined under where his arm reaches up to meet you. The movement comes naturally, more than you’d care to admit, wanting to feel loved and cared for right now. You hate the tears that sting your eyes again, like you’re not strong enough to handle something like this, something that adults do. 

“S-sorry,” you say, swiping your eyes quickly and trying to avoid any tears falling. 

“Shh, don’t be sorry. Y’did such a good job, y’know that? Normal to get emotional if it’s your first time.”

You chew on your lip and then look up at Joel, his features already strangely comforting and familiar. The speckled, tan skin that you want to touch more of, his dark lashes that fall over his eyes when he looks down at you like this.

“B-but it wasn’t… my first time…”

“Sure it was. First time doin’ somethin’ like that. It’s a lot for a sweet girl like you. But you’ll feel good again, just like tonight, I promise ya that.”

You nod, slightly more encouraged by Joel’s words as you relax a little more into his embrace. “That… release… it’s an orgasm, right?” You nearly choke on the words, shame flooding you for even having to ask. 

Joel blows out a teasing breath through his nostrils. “God damn, nobody out there teachin’ you anythin’, were they?” He ruffles the back of your head playfully. “Yes, darlin’ that was an orgasm, what both of us experienced.”

You crack a small smile at his teasing and brush your fingers along where they’re resting along his back. “People acted like it was… bad to teach about. My parents, people that looked after me, all of them.” You pause, feeling your face warm with the embarrassment of sharing so much “S-sorry I’m so clueless…”

“No, honey, not clueless. You’re learnin’, and I wanna be the one to teach you everythin’. It…” he inhales deeply, and you see that hunger in his eyes when you glance his way. “It excites me.”

“It does?”

“It’s so sexy, takin’ care of you and lettin’ you learn w’me. You like bein’ sexy, don’t you?” Joel teases, bringing a hand to your chin, tilting it just slightly. Your lips look the most inviting they have as they curve into the most delicate smile, one finally full of lust and confidence. 

“I do…” you murmur in response, averting your eyes as you flush yet again. Your body feels warm, bare and pressed against Joel’s naked flesh, his words instantly having an effect on you. 

“An’ you should,” Joel says, leaning forward to press his lips to your neck, smattering kisses down the length of it. “Already got me wrapped around your little finger.”

His lips tickle you as his facial hair brushes along you in his fast movements, and you nearly giggle, holding back at the last moment, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing your laugh just yet. You sigh contentedly and lean back into him, fighting a sudden yawn.

“You all tired out?” Joel asks quietly, lips pressed close to your ear. You shiver at the vibrations of his rich timbre and inadvertently snuggle a little closer as goosebumps creep along your skin. Joel rubs your back in response, pulling you in tighter.

You nod, mumbling out a yes and Joel responds by gently rolling you over onto the bed, laying your head on the pillow. He’s curled up to you in an instant, arm thrown over your chest all the way to your arm on the other side, letting his fingers rub there.

“You get some rest, it’s been a big day, huh?”

“It has…” you mumble in reply, hesitantly resting your hand on his arm that covers your chest. It starts to feel like some semblance of normal, cuddling with Joel. You’d never experienced something like this, this closeness. 

“G’night,” he mumbles into your skin, kissing it one more time before you notice him going more slack, starting to settle into that dazed, half sleepy state. You look over at him, blinking slowly with a deep tiredness, just watching his face in this calm, non-threatening state. He looks handsome like this, a little vulnerable and sweet, someone you could pretend is holding you right now just so you feel taken care of and cared for. You wish you could read him, trace the weathered lines on his face and find out just who he really is, which version of the many different Joel’s he’s shown you he truly is.

You fall asleep trying to figure it out.

Your eyes flutter open, finding the room still dark. You imagine it has only been a few hours since you fell asleep, but you woke with your stomach aching, hunger tearing through you. You realize the only thing you’ve eaten is the bread and cheese Joel fed you, and it makes your stomach growl again.

Joel has mostly rolled off of you, just an errant hand laid across your upper arm as he sleeps, body sprawled out on the bed. You lay as still as can be for a few moments, checking just how deep he’s sleeping before you slip out of bed, on the prowl for a midnight snack. You don’t think Joel would mind, would he? He’d fed you earlier, promised that part of what he’d do to help you here is to share his provisions with you, keep you full. You spot a knit blanket on the back of a wooden chair in the corner of the bedroom and throw it around your shoulders, shivering as you snuggle your naked body underneath it and relish in the warmth.

It’s dark in the kitchen, but you don’t dare flick on the light, happy to scavenge by way of the small glow from the open refrigerator. You end up tearing off some more of the bread, careful to not take too much from Joel’s provisions. Your eyes drift around the room as you chew happily, taking it in now that you’re here alone, gaze free to roam without any questions from Joel. You stop when you land on your backpack, slumped near the door, and your boots, tucked right where you’d left them when you’d arrived. How was that only yesterday? It feels like an entire lifetime has passed since then. Like you’re a different person than when you’d first entered the threshold of that door, shaking and terrified, barely hanging on. Now… you still weren’t sure where you landed, but you were certainly changed.

Your threadbare coat hangs where Joel must have decided to leave it when you’d taken your shower. All of your things calling out to you, screaming red, like a test that he’d left for you. To test your loyalty, to see your obedience. Everything you’d need to disappear from this cabin, all in one little space. Your heart starts to race, your mouth dry as the bread seems to go sour on your tongue. 

You could leave right now, if you wanted. Take your chances. Let fate decide if you’d starve on your own or lead you to a new community - those people in Jackson - who might take care of you. You could learn. You were capable of survival, you knew you were. You could learn to hunt and fish and start fires on your own, to live off the land and not be scared of the hidden horrors of the world. Yes, you could leave right now, escape the uncertainty of Joel’s moods and promises, and learn.

You bite your lip anxiously, eyes in a trance as you stare at your backpack, with it holding the memories of those two weeks on your own where you fought and scraped by and nearly froze to death. You blink and turn your head back towards the fridge. Maybe you aren’t cut out for life on the road. Maybe you’re too soft for it. And maybe some more of that sheep’s cheese doesn’t sound so bad right now.

You open the fridge back up, peering inside to look for that little wrapped package you’d seen Joel pull from earlier. You nearly jump out of your skin when Joel’s voice cuts into the silent room - you’d been too absorbed in your own thoughts to even hear the creak of the old floorboards announcing his movements upstairs.

“The hell’re you doin?” his voice booms out in that controlled, stern tone that makes you want to listen. You whip your head around from where you’re crouched at the fridge, rummaging through it and see Joel stepping off the bottom of the staircase and into the main room. He hasn’t bothered to put anything on, like he was in a rush to see if you were down here, if you’d snuck off in the night. His naked body moves powerfully, muscles on display, and yet all you can focus on is what’s between his legs - his soft cock swinging almost tauntingly as he approaches you with such an angry aura. 

“I - I was hungry… starving. I thought I’d -“ you start, teeth clicking together in a fearful grimace as he cuts you off. 

“Yeah? Sure you’re not tryna run off again? Ransack my fridge and leave?” He’s already questioning you heatedly, reaching where you stand and slamming the fridge shut behind you and pressing you close to the door. 

You scramble in your mind to find the words to make him understand, shrinking in, afraid of what he’s capable of doing to you. “Wh - no, no I was… look at me, I have nothing on, I wouldn’t be running out like this, right?” You gesture down to your body, only draped in the small knit blanket. 

“Poor excuse, darlin’,” he sneers, looking down at you. The moonlight spilling in through the kitchen window casts menacing shadows across his rugged face. He narrows his eyes as he waits for you to further dig yourself out of this hole. 

“I - I swear it, I haven’t eaten much, remember? J-just that bread and cheese, and I woke up hungry.” You plead and see him soften just enough to want to let up a little bit, but his face hardens again at the last second. You realize he’s scared, the hint of it behind his wild eyes showing for just a moment. He’d really run down here thinking he’d find you gone for good and that had scared him, an emotion you wouldn’t have expected from Joel. He has weaknesses and fears after all. 

He steps a little closer and you can feel his cock, now half hard pressing between your legs. You fight the urge to wince, afraid he’s about to press it further.

“Hard to believe w’the way you were runnin’ off earlier. Not desperate to get away from me anymore now that I fucked that little pussy so good w’my fingers? Didn’t jus’ get what you want from me and wanna split?” You can tell he doesn’t even fully believe what he’s saying, he just wants to taunt you, remind you that he’s more powerful, that he holds all of the cards. He grips your cheeks, squishing them together and holding your head steady, inspecting you for another moment, as if he can get the truth out of you just by reading your face. His head leans forward and he holds you in place as he sucks on your neck, pulling your skin between his lips harder and harder. He lets go and keeps himself nuzzled tight to your neck as he speaks.

“Y’don’t do anythin’ like this again without wakin’ me up.” He squeezes your cheeks a little harder before releasing it, keeping his face buried against your neck. “‘S my job to take care of you, remember? Don’t wanna catch you like this again, yeah?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, breathing a sigh of relief. One that’s short lived when Joel pulls another patch of skin into his mouth, using his teeth this time - you feel the slight nibble as he scrapes his teeth on your soft skin and you whimper quietly when it starts to hurt. 

“J-joel…” you whine, shifting uncomfortably, the heat of his body so close making you squirm and break out in a sweat.

“No,” he cuts you off, wrapping a hand around your arm and another around your waist, holding you in place. “If you’re here,” he says, stopping to flick his tongue along his recent mark, “You’re gonna refer to me as a few special names goin’ forward, okay? Teach you a little respect towards me.”

“I- I respect you,” you blurt out desperately, your eyes wide and searching the room for anything that might help you get out of this. Joel’s hold is absolute, as you’ve learned several times now. You’re suddenly unsure once again, his frightening behavior reminding you just who you’re living with now. You don’t dare to call him a monster, even in your thoughts, because that would be admitting what you’ve been desperately avoiding. You’re attracted to a monster, inexplicably fixated by him, lured in with his sweet offerings and chance at a new life. Worst of all, you’ve already given yourself over to him, let him drag you further into his clutches.

“You’ve been s-so kind and helpful, you fed me, everything…” you add on in a soft lilt, hoping he takes mercy on you.

He stays silent for a moment, his lips hovering above your skin, only his hot breath fanning across it. “Then show it,” he says in a deep rumble. “You’re gonna call me daddy, sweetheart. ‘Cause I’m here to take care of you. And a good girl always listens to her daddy, doesn’t she?”

He sucks again. Harder this time, the burn and sting shooting out from where he abuses your delicate skin. 

“She does…” you choke out.

“That’s right. I’m gonna be your everything, sweetheart. Your daddy, your sir, your master. And when you address me, you’ll address me as such, yeah? Show that you’re mine… show me respect.”

“M-mhm…” you whimper, swallowing with your lips pressed tightly together, the pain of him sucking on your neck after each little speech becoming more and more unbearable. It hurts, but something about the way he’s speaking, the concept of his domination over you, the way you can tell it comes from some completely twisted place of care, sends a warm skittering down your spine. Maybe you’re just as sick as he is if any part of you enjoys this, even the small, deeply hidden bit that seems to be growing with each encounter you have with Joel.

“And when I’m done w’you here tonight,” he murmurs, bringing up a hand to trace his fingers gently along your quickly bruising skin, “You won’t be able to see yourself in the mirror without knowin’ who you belong to. Show everyone who dares lay eyes on my girl that I’ve got you, that I’m the one keepin’ you safe and fed and fucked.”

“Yes… you are…” you whimper out complicitly into a soft cry when he bites your neck again, his hot mouth attaching like his life depends on it. 

“So you’re gonna be a good girl, yeah? Behave and listen to daddy’s rules?” He speaks breathlessly, his cock fully hard as he feels the power coursing through his veins, the evidence of it pressing firmly against your thighs. He feels you nod against where he rests his lips, but it’s not enough. 

“Say it, princess. Say ‘I’m a good girl, and I’ll behave and listen to daddy’s rules.’”

You gasp as his teeth sink into your flesh, as hard as they’ve gone yet, feeling nearly like they may have drawn blood. “I- I-“ you breathe out, clutching at his arm, digging your nails in. It only spurs him on, his lips dragging back just to suck the spot relentlessly. It brings tears to your eyes immediately, your mind only focused on the pain now. 

“Say. It.” Joel’s voice cuts through and your eyes flash open after a few tears roll down your cheeks. 

“I’m a good girl…” you whimper, voice cutting out into another cry as he assaults another spot on your neck.

“And?”

“I’m a good girl a-and I’ll behave and l-listen to daddy’s rules…” Your breath whooshes out as he stops, relief flooding your body when he places a light kiss on one of the sore, bruised spots. A few tears roll down your cheeks, spilling over from the plethora of them along your lower lids.

“Mmm, good girl,” he says more gently, pulling back to look over your face. He frowns, and it nearly startles you to see him have a look that isn’t that one of sick satisfaction that he’s worn so often. 

“When you’re daddy’s girl, you’re gonna be so well taken care of, I promise ya. I know you’re scared, and it ain’t easy when I’m bein’ so firm w’you. Just want you to understand…” he pauses, dragging a finger along your cheek, swiping a tear and glancing down at it glistening on his finger. His body is still close, pressed right against yours. 

“That I’m doin’ it for your own good. So you know I mean it all. I won’t hurt ya unless you disobey me, yeah? If you’re not a good girl, you’re gonna have some punishments. Do you understand?”

You nod hesitantly, your brows furrowed and trying to process all of the information he’s throwing at you. 

“Y’need some sleep, look at you,” he says with a shake of his head, taking in your disheveled state, swaying where you stand as a few more tears roll down your cheeks. He feels a pang spearing his heart at your weary, dejected stance, body trembling openly at his proximity. He knows he did this to you, made you this broken little bird he could grasp in his hands and crush with his words alone, but he did it for your own good. He tells himself this sentence for what feels like the millionth time, absolving his guilt in a single second. You need him, deserve the unrelenting care he’ll pour out once you fully give yourself over to him. Anytime now… with your cracks showing more and more, your desperation to please him not as well hidden as you might think.

 “You’ll feel better in the mornin’, hm?” Joel says when you don’t answer him.

You shrug slightly, keeping your shoulders rolled up, feeling defensive as Joel rests his fingers on your arm more gently now. “We’ll talk more then,” he says decidedly, making the decision for the both of you as he sidles up next to you and puts an arm around you, his hand resting on the small of your back.

You begin to walk nearly catatonically back towards the stairs with Joel’s guidance. His hands slide to your hips and squeeze as you move up the stairs in a daze, exhaustion overtaking you. You swear you’re tired down to your very cells, every piece of your being sapped and scraped thin right now. 

“Thank you,” you murmur in a whisper when Joel helps you shrug the blanket off of your shoulders, laying it tidily back on the chair where you’d found it. 

“You’re welcome,” he responds, kissing the top of your head. You’re moved to the bed, body soft and yielding for him to place you where he wishes, finding you a place wrapped right in his arms just as you were earlier.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, lips flitting against your hair and cheek when he senses your tension. “Jus’ be good, don’t do that again, okay? Don’t wanna have to chain you to the bed while we sleep, would we?”

Your mouth sags open, chest pulling tight at his threat, the way it had rolled off his tongue like it was nothing, no humor or jesting behind it. When he’d said the word punishment he’d meant it in the most serious sense. Things like chaining you up, biting your neck until it was bruised, bleeding, and throbbing, and the likely long list of things he had lined up that you couldn’t even envision if you tried.

“N-no, you’ll never need to do that, I w-won’t…” you reply after composing yourself for a brief moment.

“Never say never,” Joel whispers with a conceited smirk. “You may find yourself askin’ me to do it someday, princess. Beggin’ me…”

You let out a breathy scoff of a laugh, mostly out of discomfort, but Joel hardly notices, busy tucking you into the crook of his neck as he puts an arm behind your head.

“You’ll see someday, babygirl, you’ll see… now let’s get some sleep.”

You stare into the dark of the room, head rising and falling with the movements of Joel’s chest while he falls back asleep. You hate that he smells good right now, that the hair of his chest feels so gorgeous and manly under your fingertips. You hate that you feel comfortable right now, safe, despite everything he’s done to you. You hate everything about all of it, but you don’t hate… him. It makes you sick, your stomach turning as you fight the urge to cry yet again. 

You start to think back to your backpack and boots, waiting for you by the door. Their enticing siren call is louder than ever, beckoning you away from here. 

You could learn to survive out there. You know you could. 

You peek up at Joel’s face again, willing yourself to read him, the same thoughts swirling through your head from earlier tonight. You slowly reach your hand up and touch the lines on his face with your fingertips - around his eyes, his forehead, his cheeks. Ever so gently you move along his face, and Joel’s mouth twitches as he sleeps, morphing into a soft smile. 

There he is. That is Joel. That has to be him. That soft smile, a sweet man who wants to care about you. That wants a companion, someone to spend his life with, not someone to hurt. 

You sigh and close your eyes, dropping your hand and shifting your body to mold even closer to his, finding comfort in his large, imposing form rather than fear right now.

Yes, you think as your eyes flutter and you drift off, you could learn. Maybe it would just be an entirely different set of lessons.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 2 - Love's in hiding

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 4.3K

TWs: Angst, body image issues, thigh riding.

A/N: Thanks all for the lovely comments on the last part. I'm planning on posting every other day so that I can make the Christmas part line up with Christmas... but we'll see!

“We need to make you look so good there’s no way he can say no.”

Maria is a woman on a mission. She’s standing with her hands on her hips, eyeliner pencil between her teeth, looking like she’s planning a military operation. When she’d heard from Tegan what had happened she’d been annoyed and her protective instincts had kicked in, suggesting not going to Graceland and even not going back to karate until Elvis left again. But that wasn’t what Tegan wanted, not really. So she switched to second best, which is making Elvis sorry he’d said he just wanted to be friends. This had led her to turn up bright and early at Tegan’s flat to make her shower, shave, bluff, pluck… and anything else that she could think of. Nails are painted and whilst they wait for them to dry she tries in vain to get her friend to wear anything on her face other than a little mascara. 

Tegan shakes her head. “I’m terrible with make-up. I’ll just get it everywhere and eat all my lipstick off.”

Maria sighs but eventually decides to let it go, knowing she’ll have a battle on her hands anyway when it comes to choosing a swimsuit. And when the other woman comes out wearing a frumpy-looking one piece she knows she was right. 

“You can’t go in that. Why don’t you wear a bikini?”

“Lisa said swimsuit.”

“I think you’re taking that a bit literally. I’m sure she just meant swimming costume generally. She definitely didn’t mean that ugly thing.”

Tegan grumbles, looking down at her swimming costume. She doesn’t think it looks that bad, but she’ll have to let Maria win on something. She already conceded the make-up thing, she’ll probably make the clothes her hill to die on. She goes back into her room and changes into a pink two piece, which does look better, though it’s a bit bright. She’s not sure what possessed her to buy it in the first place, really. 

“Oh that looks good. What about that?”

Tegan screws her face up. “I dunno, Mar. It’s a bit… garish.”

“You’re a bit garish,” Maria jokes, gesturing at Tegan’s extensive tattoos. 

“Hmmmm. I don’t have to go in the pool, you know. I can’t swim. Maybe I’ll just conveniently forget my swimming stuff.”

Maria shakes her head. “No. He’s going to know what he’s missing out on.” She gets up and bodily pushes Tegan back into her room again. “Why don’t you try the black one on?”

The black one seems like the best option, even though Tegan can’t quite get her head around the idea of stripping off to what she considers her underwear in public. She’s never been big on bikinis on the beach either. After some debate she decides on a long floral summer dress, and spends the next half an hour curling her hair. 

“I don’t know why I’m doing this. I have to put it up anyway.”

“No you don’t. You look good with your hair down.”

“But it’s hot. And you want me to go in the pool.”

“Why don’t you arrive with your hair down and then put it up if you want to get in the pool?” 

Tegan groans. “Okay. Fine. But it’s your fault if I get there looking like a sweaty mess.”

Maria just decides to take that, resisting the temptation to talk about the air conditioning in the car. Some things just aren’t worth it. 

When she’s finally ready Tegan makes herself a gin and tonic and waits for an hour before leaving, chatting with her friend and drumming her fingers on the table impatiently. Maria had suggested it was better to make Elvis wait and she’d agreed, but she's nervous and she doesn't want all this extra time to think in. Graceland seems like such a fabled place, almost the stuff of dreams, that she can't quite believe she's going there. 

Maria gives her a big hug goodbye and some encouraging words before she sets off. She offers again to go with her, but Tegan thinks she should go on her own, since she was the only one who was strictly speaking invited. She doesn’t love talking to strangers, but at least Lisa will be there. And Elvis. He did say he wanted to spend more time with her, even if it was as friends. 

***

Elvis spends most of the day pacing about the house and trying to find things to keep his hands busy. And then when guests start to arrive, he insists on answering the door himself, every time wondering if it will be Tegan. On more than one occasion Sonny tries to tell him that he can just look and see who it is on the CCTV, but he’s not listening. The house is getting full and she still hasn’t arrived. Why did he let Lisa invite her? Or, more to the point, why did he say he wanted to see her as a friend? He doesn’t want to see her as a friend, that’s bullshit and he knows it. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he stands in the living room, watching people mingle. A friend is all she can be. He’s been down this road before and it ended terribly. He can’t put himself through that again. 

When the doorbell goes at around 4pm, Elvis strides over to the door as usual and flings it open. He’s so used to it not being Tegan, that when he looks and it is her he almost doesn’t recognise her. That, and the fact that she looks completely different out of her karate gear. Her dark brown hair is streaked with grey and frames her face in a sea of loose curls, and her eyes somehow look especially green. His eyes dart over her face and then trail down her body, and he can’t help noticing how good her breasts look in the long summer dress she’s wearing. He clears his throat and quickly looks back up again, but not before he sees her painted toenails. Cute feet, he thinks. He’d noticed them during class, but she didn’t usually paint her nails. 

“Well hi here.”

Tegan smiles. It’s hard not to smile at him. “Hi yourself. Can I come in?”

Elvis gestures dramatically with one arm, making her laugh a little. She steps inside the house and lets him lead her around, his hand on her elbow. He immediately starts introducing her to people, a sea of names she has no hope of remembering. Then he takes her outside, where there are sun loungers and even more people. She looks around, feeling a little overwhelmed at the sheer number of strangers, as he sits down on a lounger, striking up conversation with a couple of guys near him. She stands there awkwardly for a minute, before realising he’s expecting her to find somewhere else to sit. 

She wanders to the nearest free one, looking around for Lisa and sitting down when she fails to see her. People nearby introduce themselves and make a little idle chit chat, and then go back to talking to one another. She feels like everyone knows each other, and she’s the odd one out. Lying back on the lounger with her sunglasses on, she wonders why on earth she didn’t bring Maria, who absolutely thrives in this sort of situation. That’s why they were such good friends. Tegan doesn’t think of herself as an introvert, exactly. But she feels awkward in situations like this, and Maria definitely doesn’t. She just didn't expect quite this many people. Sighing softly, she thinks about how she's misinterpreted him again somehow. Will she ever learn?

Elvis isn’t that interested in this conversation with Sonny and Joe but he felt like he had to do something to stop Tegan sitting with him. Although now that’s all he wants, stealing little glances at her lying on her lounger, basking in the sun. He might’ve thought of her as a little cute before, but in that dress her body is becoming a bit of a distraction. He needs to take his mind off it. 

“Hey Charlie, let’s start a pool game!” He calls over to his old friend. 

Charlie’s enthusiasm for following Elvis’ instructions hasn’t dimmed over time, much to his wife’s irritation. He immediately shouts “yes boss!” strips down to his trunks and grabs the nearest inflatable ball. Elvis continues with the instructions, telling people to get into teams and explaining the rules which he’s mostly just made up on the spot. The noise and general jostling of her lounger make Tegan open her eyes again and sit up, trying to work out what’s going on. One of the women nearby turns to her. 

“You wanna join? They’re playing some kind of ball game in the pool.”

She doesn’t. She doesn’t want to strip off in front of people and she also doesn’t really like swimming pool games, since she can’t swim. But then she thinks of Maria’s voice in her head, telling her she has to show Elvis what he’s missing out on. And how long it took for the two of them to agree on a bikini. She should probably try and show willing, and at least this seems easier than making small talk about other people’s small children. 

“Yeah, why not.”

There are so many people chaotically stumbling around, taking their clothes off, shouting and some even pushing each other into the pool that Tegan feels like she gets in fairly unnoticed. Elvis notices though. He has to make an effort to keep his mouth from falling open. She has the most tattoos of any woman he’s ever seen, and as she turns to fold her dress up and place it on the lounger, he notices she has the best ass he’s seen in a long time too. He watches her get into the pool slowly and carefully, standing at the shallower end. This is actually not less distracting than her being on the lounger at all. This is a lot more distracting. The only solution is to cause as much chaos as possible. 

“Alright, let’s go!” He shouts, and then absolute pandemonium breaks loose. 

There are people diving for the ball left, right and centre, people being tackled, pushed under the water and all the while they’re shouting for some kind of judgement from Elvis as if he’s an impartial referee. But he just keeps changing the rules. Tegan looks in disbelief as it all unfolds around her. A lot of the guys are the same sort of age as Elvis and not all of them look in as good health as he does, so it’s somewhat alarming to see them behaving in such an unhinged way over a beach ball. He continues to make arbitrary decisions on scores and yells at the top of his lungs whenever one side seems to be clearly winning against the other. Tegan has a strong urge to put her fingers in her ears. She had imagined a much more sedate affair when she’d heard the words Saturday afternoon barbeque. She knew that Elvis and his friends had a reputation of being loud and even a bit obnoxious when they were younger, pulling pranks and playing games, but she hadn’t thought they’d still be doing it in their sixties. When everyone starts to slow down due to obvious tiredness Elvis suggests a five minute break and Tegan breathes a sigh of relief.

“Why don’t you get in here, E?” Someone calls. 

“Nah. I’m good.”

Sonny shakes his head, deciding he’s had enough of being told what to do for one day and getting out of the pool. 

“You’re going in. Up to you whether you take your shirt off first.”

Tegan watches as the pair of them scrap, laughing and slipping around on the edge of the pool before Sonny jumps back in and pulls Elvis, fully-clothed, in with him. 

“Sonofabitch,” Elvis laughs, whipping his head round to get his wet hair out of his eyes. 

Tegan can’t help smiling to herself seeing him so wet. It seems like justice since he’d been one of the primary instigators of making so much noise. 

“That’s what you get for not joining in,” she mutters. 

Elvis spins around, finding her right behind him. “Oh. Is that so, Queenie? Ya don’t look too wet yerself.”

Before she can say anything in response he starts splashing her. She squeals and jumps up to sit on the side of the pool, wiping her face with both hands. Grateful she didn’t take Maria’s advice and put a full face of make-up on. 

“You’re going to ruin my hair,” she tells him as he stands between her legs, a hand on either side of her hips on the side of the pool. “It took ages, you know.”

“It still looks good,” he tells her, unable to help himself gazing into her eyes. 

“Well I’m sure it looks better than yours right now,” she replies, a teasing smile on her face. 

“What d’ya mean?” He demands, fake outrage in his voice as he pushes it back from his face and tries to style it into the way he used to wear it in the 50s. “Ya don’t like this?” He curls his lip into a sneer and she cracks up immediately. He looks like one of those impersonators she sees at the seaside when she goes home. A middle-aged man pretending to be something he’s not. 

“I love it,” she replies, still sniggering. 

His eyes trail over her body almost against his will and hers linger on the way his wet shirt is clinging to his torso. He breathes out a little sigh. She looks so damn good in this bikini, he thinks. He has to move before he does something he regrets.

“Right, that’s enough rest for you reprobates. Back ta the game!”

Tegan lets go of the breath she didn’t realise she was holding, and slides back down into the pool for another round of fight to the death over a beach ball. She looks over at him a few times, now playing as well as deciding all the rules, and feels a tingling start between her legs. He looks good all wet, she thinks. She breathes out hard and narrowly avoids being hit in the face by the ball, dodging to the side and then getting out of the pool. That’s enough watersports for one day. 

She pulls on her cover up and lies back down in the sun, wondering again what’s going on with Elvis. He had looked so close to kissing her, but then changed his mind and went back to the game. She just can’t figure him out, and eventually she gives up trying, unable to work it out with just pure logic. Instead she wonders when this so-called barbeque will actually start. She tries asking a few people but only gets vague responses. She’s getting really hungry, but it seems like everyone else is just content to drink and play pool games, and she still can’t find Lisa, though she’s afraid to venture too far into the house. Elvis is still avoiding her, so she starts to wonder exactly what she’s doing here at all. She decides maybe it’s time to leave. 

“Elvis.” She stands next to his lounger, her bag on her arm. 

“Yes, honey.”

“I’m gonna go. I um… yeah I think I should go.”

She sees his face start to screw up in confusion and then decides she can’t manage this conversation and turns on her heel, quickly striding through the outdoor area and into the house. 

Lisa sees her walking through the house with her bag on her shoulder, heading for the door, and runs to where her dad is still sitting, dumbfounded. “If you don’t go after her, I will. And there’s no telling what I’ll say.”

Elvis sighs and gets up, picking his way through the people and their possessions, all strewn about the place. 

“Tegan! Tegan! Wait!”

She’s right at the front door, and she knows she could just open it and leave. But there’s that pull again, that magnetism. It’s like she’s powerless to resist him. She turns around, reluctantly, and finds him much closer than she’d imagined. He puts a hand on either side of her shoulders, against the door, almost pinning her there. He’s panting a little from moving so quickly and she can feel his breath on her face.

“Don’t go, Queenie.”

His wet hair flops down into his face and his blue eyes stare deeply into hers. She feels like a tiny insect under a microscope, trapped beneath his gaze.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Elvis. I can’t take these mixed signals anymore and I… I just want to go home. Everything here is so… loud.”

As if to prove her point, there’s a loud bang from outside and then a cheer. 

Elvis carries on looking at her in that intense way, really wanting her to stay now.

“Okay, they are a little loud,” he concedes. “Sorry, honey. And I… I’m sorry ‘bout the other thing, too. But I don’t want ya t‘leave.”

His eyes flick down to her lips and then back to her eyes. He can’t help himself. The way her cover-up is sticking to her wet bikini top, making it see-through, is driving him crazy and all he wants to do is kiss her. And then run his fingertips all over her body.

He’s so close she can feel the heat radiating off him. There’s something in his eyes that makes her think he’s going to kiss her, and then when she looks back at him he does, soft lips pressing gently against hers. He pulls back, and before he can ask if that was okay, she’s tugging his head back down to crash their mouths together this time. Elvis Presley is kissing her in the doorway of Graceland. And he’s just as good a kisser as the girls’ annuals and gossip magazines when she was a teenager suggested he might be. His tongue explores her mouth patiently and gently whilst hers presses urgently deeper and deeper, her hand on the back of his neck pulling him in closer. She wants all of him. She wants this kiss to just go on forever. 

When they eventually pull apart, they stare at one another breathlessly for a minute and then both giggle, like teenagers. 

“C’mon. Yer not gonna leave now, are ya?” Elvis asks.

She smiles. “No, I guess not. Although I’m going to have to have some of this promised barbeque food soon, I’m starving.”

“Thought ya seemed a little hungry,” he teases, taking her hand and pulling her back outside. 

***

Elvis instructs someone or other to fire up the barbeque and manages to tear himself away from talking to everyone else to spend some time with Tegan. After actually being fed and drinking more than a few cocktails, Tegan and Lisa get to talking and by the time she looks around the party has really thinned out. She sees Elvis laying back on a lounger, surveying the mess and listening to the dying sounds of the party inside. She gets up and wanders towards him and he spreads his legs, patting the space between them. 

“C’mere.”

Despite the kissing and the cocktails, Tegan is still not about to sit right up against someone unless they specifically ask, so she settles somewhere near the bottom of the lounger. Elvis shakes his head and clicks his tongue, grabbing her hips and pulling her towards him so that she’s right between his legs, her back against his chest. It’s one of his old moves that he barely thinks twice about, although he really hasn’t tried it for a long time. It works though, she relaxes against him, smiling at the feeling of him wrapped around her, his arms around her waist. 

He kisses her temple. He’s missed touching a woman like this, but he can feel it all coming back to him like riding a bike. “Y’look so good, Tegan,” he murmurs in her ear. 

She giggles. “It’s Teh-gaan,” she teases. 

He squeezes her more tightly and exaggerates the Welsh pronunciation in her ear, his breath tickling her. “Teeeeehhhh-gaaaaan.”

She keeps giggling, trying to wriggle away from his tickling lips. “Stop it! Ha!”

He kisses underneath her ear and thinks of something. “Is it Welsh? What does it mean?”

She nods. “It means darling. Or, loved one. Or, literally, toy.”

Elvis’ eyes light up and he nuzzles her neck. “Little Tegan,” he murmurs. 

“Tegan bach,” she replies. 

“What?”

“That’s “little darling” in Welsh.”

“Say it again.”

She turns her head to look at him. “Tegan bach. You have to make a noise like a cat hissing. Chhhhhh.”

They both snigger, and Tegan thinks that this is her favourite way to be with him. When his face is all scrunched up with amusement and his eyes are shining. When he’s looking at her like she’s the only girl in the world.

“Tegan bach,” he tries, and it’s not a bad attempt. 

“Yeah. That’ll do.”

She lies back down again and he nuzzles into her neck again too. There’s something very comforting about it for both of them, and part of both of them wants to stay in this position forever. But that’s not practical. 

“I should go home,” she says, after a while. 

Elvis sighs. If he were much younger he’d definitely have asked her to stay. But she’s probably right about going home. 

“Can I drive you?”

“Yes please. I’ve had too many margaritas to do it myself.”

They walk towards the front door together, Tegan gathering her things on the way. Elvis tells Sonny what he plans to do, and that he’ll call when he gets there so someone can pick him up and take him back to Graceland. Luckily Sonny had decided not to drink, having the feeling he might be needed for some foolish task or other. He doesn’t like Elvis doing this kind of thing, although he’s bothered a lot less by fans than he used to be, it still seems like an unnecessary risk. On the other hand, he hasn’t shown this much interest in a woman for a long time. So Sonny just nods and says he’ll wait for the call. 

There aren’t many dedicated gate fans nowadays, and certainly not at this time of night, so no-one sees Elvis driving a woman out of Graceland in her car. As soon as they’re clear of the gates he pulls Tegan closer to him, his arm around her shoulders for most of the journey. She’s not sure that’s exactly safe, but she likes the way it feels so she doesn’t say anything. 

She lets him into her apartment so that he can use the phone, and once he’s got hold of Sonny he sits down in her armchair. 

“He’ll be fifteen or so. Why don’tcha c’mere?”

Once again, Tegan isn’t sure exactly what he means, and she thinks it’s a bit forward to just sit on his lap, so she walks towards him until she’s stood between his spread thighs. He shakes his head a little and with what she considers to be a surprising show of strength, picks her up with his hands on her waist and plonks her down so she’s sat straddling his thigh. She rests her hands lightly on his shoulders, trying to steady herself as she feels her heart beating out of her chest. 

“Can’t take my eyes off ya,” he tells her, his hands running all over her body. 

She blushes, then leans forward and captures his lips in another kiss. Smiling against her, his big hands run up her thigh, her back. 

“Can ya take this off?” He mumbles against her lips, pulling lightly at the sleeve of the cover-up. 

She nods and pulls it up and over her head, sitting there in just her bikini now. He can tell how much she likes kissing so he pulls her into another passionate one, feeling as she responds, her hands on the back of his neck, tongue exploring his mouth. She starts to rock her hips just a little, enjoying the feeling of rubbing herself against him. She loves the way his hands hold her, with just the right amount of pressure. One makes its way to her hip and starts to help manoeuvre her, dragging her against him. She breathes a little harder and presses her body against his, leaning her head on his shoulder. His fingers grip her hips as his other hand moves there too, rolling her pussy against his leg. He tries to listen for her reaction, but she’s so quiet he can’t tell if she’s getting anywhere. 

“Is it good, honey?”

Tegan breathes out a little sigh. “Yeah.”

He kisses her neck as he carries on moving her, bouncing his leg a little at the same time, listening as her breathing gets faster and louder and she lets out a tiny moan. 

“Relax, baby. Yer all tense.” 

He can feel her body, taut like a bow, like she’s straining for something. She is. It’s good, but it’s not getting her anywhere, and she can feel herself getting frustrated. Just then, there’s a bang at the door. Sonny. She jumps up and reaches for her cover-up, pulling it back over her head. 

“You better go.”

Elvis is stunned at how quickly she moved. And he can’t remember the last time he left a woman unsatisfied. 

“I uh… Sonny can wait y’know. If ya wanna finish.”

Tegan laughs. “Sonny’ll be waiting until the sun comes up at this rate.”

She sees Elvis’ reaction and immediately realises what she’s said, putting her hand over her face. “I didn’t mean… it’s not your fault. It’s me. I’m like this.”

Elvis shakes his head, getting up and putting his arms around her. God, he really wants to stay. If only he could. “Not your fault at all honey, I rushed it. I’ll take my time, next time.”

Tegan looks at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, next time, is it?”

“Mmmm.” He pulls her into another kiss and she feels dizzy. 

There’s another bang at the door. 

“You better go.”

“Mmmhmmm.” Elvis puts his lips to her ear again and murmurs, “think of me while ya finish, hm?”

Tegan grins, letting him kiss her goodbye and then watching as he walks down the stairs to the door. 

It wouldn’t be the first time, she thinks to herself.

***

Part 3

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 7 all chapters

I knew the pleasure of vexing and soothing him by turns; it was one I chiefly delighted in.

–Jane on Mr. Rochester, Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

-It's no real mystery, why you dig out your beloved old copy of Jane Eyre. From the early 1900s, it had seen better days when you’d scored it in the local used book store, many years ago. You’d been a teenager then—and those days were long behind you. It seems you never outgrew your liking of a dark and broody anti-hero.

It’s safer to read about it though, than pursue the real thing.

Lately every time Mr. Wick comes into the shop you feel slightly agitated, as though you don’t quite fit into your own skin. You remember the sensation of his fingertips on yours, like a burn.

Mr. Wick sees you reading your tattered novel on your break, but doesn’t comment. You’ve seen him with old classics in hand and reckon he must be something of an aficionado.  

You put it away in your shoulder bag in the back after the break.

The next day, it’s gone.

You know you left it in your bag. Where the fuck could it have gone? Why would someone fucking steal it?

A couple of weeks later, it reappears on the counter by the register you favor.

You hardly recognize it at first, for it has received an encompassing makeover. It has new leather covers with gorgeous embossed gold lettering, and marbled end papers, and the tattered thread of the binding repaired. There are gilded arabesques on the spine and delicately drawn climbing flowers on the cover. You wouldn’t have even thought it the same book, if not for the intricately printed title page unique to your edition, with an old pencil mark in the corner you recognize.

Such a restoration would have cost a fortune.

You knew, because you’d looked into it.  

Further compounding the mystery, there is a beautiful jacquard embroidered ribbon bookmark inside. It’s on the page where Rochester has sat Jane down in the arbor, and is telling her that she has rejuvenated him from his unhappy existence without actually admitting anything, asking in the most roundabout way possible if it would be so very bad to take a second wife who would make him a new man, while his first is still living, the big idiot.

“Is the wandering and sinful, but now re-seeking and repentant, man justified in daring the world’s opinion, in order to attach to him for ever this gentle, gracious, genial stranger, thereby securing his own peace of mind and regeneration of life?”

Jane tells him, of course, that a man shouldn’t base his redemption on another person, but within himself. You are not sure you would have had the strength to speak so frankly to a man you secretly loved.

Well, maybe you would.

You are utterly mystified by the whole thing, to say the least.

But later, you are browsing the local book store, and the owner is reading Anna Karenina in what looks like freshly bound leather. The style looks familiar.

“Did you have that restored?” you ask, feeling like Nancy Drew hot on the trail of a fresh lead.

“Yeah, that new guy in town, John Wick did it for me. He says he’s just a hobbyist, but he does amazing work. Usually you have to send off to Florence for quality like this, seriously. It’s a dying art.”

Darren lets you look at the book, and you are impressed by the craftsmanship.

The spine decoration matches yours. There is a plate in the back that proclaims: Bound by John Wick.

The sneak.

You are touched to the tips of your toes, your heart filled with butterflies. Was the bookmark purposely left on that page, or just a random placement?

You hardly dare hope, and tell yourself it’s an invention of your own fancy. The gift of the book is magnificent enough. No need to further muddle things with secret communications that aren’t really there.

The next day you approach Mr. Wick’s table with hands on your hips, affecting annoyance. “You stole my book.”

He actually has the grace to look sheepish about it, casting those lovely dark eyes downwards.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks. I really love it.” It’s the understatement of the century.

He looks up through his hair, the surprised sparkle in his eyes taking your breath away. Suddenly, he looks ten years younger.  

“Yeah?”

The corners of your mouth twitch. This man speaks like he’s paying five cents per word, you swear. “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me you bind books?”

He just shrugs, and you cannot help but laugh.

“I’ve never owned anything so fine. Thank you, truly.”

 He nods again, and you sense that you’re maybe making him uncomfortable with your gratitude. You suspect it’s not why he did it at all.

“Will you show me sometime? How you do it?”

There is a flash of something dark in his eyes before he turns his attention back down to his own book. It feels like dismissal, but you have no idea what he’s hiding underneath it all.

Still waters run deep.

“Anytime you want,” he offers as you turn to go.  

You smile at him over your shoulder as you go back to your station, a secret lightness fluttering in your heart. On your break you flip through your refurbished book once more, taking even more pleasure in it knowing that John poured over every detail of it. You don’t know much about bookbinding or leather work, but you suspect he freehanded the little flowers on the front, and that moves you to your toes.

You flip to one of your favorite scenes because you find it so funny, when Jane puts out the fire that nearly burned Rochester up in his sleep, because undoubtedly he’d drank too much earlier to easily rouse, the lovesick scoundrel. Afterwards he doesn’t want her to leave but can’t outright keep her in his room without behaving an absolute blackguard.

“Strange energy was in his voice, strange fire in his look.”

You cannot help but glance up at your tall dark bookworm in the corner, an aching warmth spreading in your heart for the sight of his furrowed brow, his concentration (you think) focused on the tome in his hands.

You know you are a ridiculous thing.

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, light suggestive themes, use of "princess", "she" pronoun used, a few more characters appear, Sukuna and reader are both hot for each other, a hot mess if you squint lol A/N: what does it say about me that my dreams are now occupied by this fic three chapters in? anywaaaaays, hope I did the guest appearances justice with their personalities (｡- .•) I try to remind myself this is a modern au and I can't just allow Sukuna to be too "King of Curses" like lol. index part two | part four

part three word count : 2,711

Sukuna had always thought that love wouldn’t be something he easily fell into. he was torn between the idea that no one would be right for him – or that he would never be right for anyone. last summer felt like it had proved the latter to be true, even though he knew why things ended up the way they did.

but now, you kept coming back. back to that bar every day, back to his thoughts constantly. he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the feelings he got whenever you were around. excitement, intrigue, and most of all, awe. you took his playful insults and dished them back tenfold – something he was growing used to enjoying.

and yet you were still flustered around him. and that made him even more thrilled. whenever he’d get your cheeks to flush, or your gaze averted from him, he counted it as a win, just because he got to see your expression change. and when it did, he could tell that slowly, but surely, you were falling as fast as he was.

despite your best efforts, you were. the idea that after work you could meet Sukuna at the bar made the day go by much faster. you were even finding yourself primping in the mirror before leaving. and god forbid, your dreams at night… filthy. and filled with him.

you had denied yourself long enough right? he was interested in you, wasn’t entirely crazy, and was very very attractive. maybe it was time to finally kick your vengeance act into gear – Sukuna was the perfect candidate.

imagine your surprise when you stepped out of work, expecting the usual walk around the corner to the bar, only to find Sukuna leaning casually against his motorcycle, waiting for you. the sight sent a shiver down your spine. he held the strap of his helmet loosely with two fingers, slung over his shoulder like he had all the time in the world. when his crimson eyes met yours, that wicked grin of his spread across his face.

“well, this is unexpected,” you said as you approached, arms crossed in mock suspicion. “escaping our bar again?”

“you said our bar,” Sukuna pointed out, clearly relishing the words as he repeated them, his grin widening. “I like the sound of that. has a nice ring to it.”

you rolled your eyes. “don’t get used to it.”

“too late,” he shot back smoothly, his gaze fixed on you with a glint of mischief. “but I had a better idea today. you up for a little adventure?”

you raised a brow, glancing at his bike. “this isn’t one of those adventures where I mysteriously disappear and end up on the evening news, is it?”

Sukuna chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent warmth curling in your chest. “damn, you caught on to step six of my evil master plan,” he said, smirking.

“step six? what happened to steps one through five?” you asked, playing along despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh, those are just the warm-up,” Sukuna replied, leaning closer, his voice dipping just enough to send a thrill through you. “but don’t worry, princess. you’ll enjoy this.”

you hesitated for just a moment before nodding. “fine. but if this so-called adventure involves anything sketchy, I’m out.”

Sukuna’s grin only widened as he handed you the spare helmet, the same one you’d worn the night before. “relax, you’re in good hands. now, hop on.”

you clung to him a little tighter on the ride than you wanted to admit, the warmth of his back and the cool wind rushing past making for a strange, intoxicating contrast.

when the bike finally slowed, you glanced up, expecting some scenic overlook or hole-in-the-wall restaurant. instead, Sukuna pulled into the lot of a sleek, modern building. neon lights illuminated the name of the business: Cursed Ink.

“a tattoo shop?” you asked, sliding off the bike as he steadied it on the kickstand.

“my tattoo shop,” Sukuna corrected, pride lacing his tone as he pulled off his helmet.

you followed him inside, the smell of antiseptic and faint hints of ink filling the air. “wow,” you murmured, your eyes drifting to a wall of framed photographs showcasing some of the shop’s best work. “this is… impressive.”

“told you I’m full of surprises,” Sukuna said, watching you with an expression that was almost unreadable. he gestured toward one of the tattoo stations, where a black chair sat beneath a lamp. “that’s my spot.”

your gaze followed his hand, taking in the neatly arranged inks, the well-worn sketchpad sitting off to the side. “so, what? you brought me here to show off?”

“maybe,” he said with a shrug, but his grin hinted at more. “or maybe I figured you’d like to see a different side of me. you’re always so quick to think you’ve got me figured out.”

you turned to him, crossing your arms. “and what side is this, exactly?”

“the real one,” he said simply. “you’ve seen me at the bar, running my mouth and messing with you. but this? this is what I do. it’s what I’m good at.”

there was something uncharacteristically earnest in his tone, and it caught you off guard. you glanced around again, your gaze lingering on the bold, intricate designs hanging on the walls. “did you do these?”

“most of them,” Sukuna said, his voice tinged with cockiness. “the others are from the team. they’re good, but…” he trailed off, his smirk returning. “let’s be honest. I’m better.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “of course you’d say that.”

“wanna see for yourself?” he challenged, stepping closer, his crimson eyes gleaming.

your pulse quickened as you caught the implication in his words. “what are you suggesting?”

“I’m saying,” Sukuna said, leaning against the counter, “if you’re feeling brave, I could give you a little something. something that’ll remind you of tonight.”

you hesitated, glancing at the tattoo chair, then back at Sukuna. the way his crimson eyes gleamed with challenge sent a rush of heat to your cheeks. “yeah, no,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I’m not letting you put a needle anywhere near me.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “scared, princess?”

“scared?” you repeated with a scoff. “of you? hardly. but I’m not about to let you permanently mark me just because you feel like showing off.”

he chuckled, the sound low and rich as he leaned back against the counter, arms crossed in mock defeat. he planned to mark you one day alright, just not with ink. “your loss. you could’ve had something to remember me by.”

“oh, trust me,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes. “I think you’re already impossible to forget.”

his smirk widened at that, his gaze lingering on you just a little longer than necessary. “good,” he said simply, pushing off the counter and motioning for you to follow. “guess I’ll just have to show you around instead.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and trailed behind him as he led you through the shop.

the place had more personality than you’d expected—walls lined with artwork, some of which you learned were Sukuna’s own designs.

“alright,” you admitted after he finished showing off a dragon piece that stretched across an entire back. “I’ll give you this—you’re good. like, really good.”

“finally, some recognition,” Sukuna teased, his grin smug. “I was starting to think you didn’t appreciate my talents.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you replied, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

suddenly, the bell at the front door chimed, signaling someone had entered the shop. you glanced at Sukuna, raising an eyebrow as his mouth tugged into an irritated frown.

“sounds like the rest of the clowns decided to show up,” he muttered, his tone dripping with exasperation.

“Suku! saw your bike out front!” called a cheerful male voice, loud enough to echo through the shop. Sukuna’s eyes rolled so hard you were surprised they didn’t get stuck.

“should I be worried about your friends?” you teased, but the grim look on Sukuna’s face made you half-wonder if it was a legitimate concern.

“they’re not friends,” Sukuna corrected, his irritation palpable. “they’re my partners. Suguru and Uraume. and along with them is Suguru’s best friend—who also happens to be the most annoying brat I’ve ever met—Satoru.”

right on cue, three figures appeared from around the corner. the first, Suguru Geto, was tall and composed, with long, sleek black hair tied back. next to him, Uraume stood with an air of quiet confidence. their sharp gaze darted between you and Sukuna, as if assessing the situation before speaking.

trailing behind was Satoru Gojo, whose striking white hair and smug grin made him an instant attention-grabber. he wore round sunglasses despite it being nighttime, and his energy was as loud and brash as his voice.

“well, well,” Satoru began, striding forward with his hands in his pockets. “what’s this? Sukuna actually entertaining a guest? didn’t know you had it in you, buddy.”

“shut the fuck up, Gojo,” Sukuna snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Suguru gave you a polite nod, his tone smooth as he said, “don’t mind him. Satoru’s personality is… an acquired taste.”

“hey asshole! I heard that!” Satoru chimed, leaning forward to get a closer look at you. “so, who’s this? did you finally manage to find someone who doesn’t hate your guts, Sukuna?”

your lips twitched at the jab, but you stayed quiet, letting Sukuna handle the chaos.

“that's none of your business,” Sukuna growled, stepping slightly in front of you as if to shield you from whatever nonsense was about to follow.

Uraume’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before they turned to Sukuna, their voice calm and neutral. “you didn’t tell us you had company tonight.”

“I don’t need to tell you everything, do I?” Sukuna shot back.

“you never do,” Uraume said, the faintest hint of a smirk gracing their lips.

Suguru chuckled under his breath before addressing you directly. “forgive the intrusion. I’m Suguru. and the loud one is Satoru.”

“I’m right here!” Satoru protested, waving dramatically.

“and this is Uraume,” Suguru continued, ignoring the interruption.

you nodded at each of them, feeling the weight of their scrutiny but refusing to let it show. “nice to meet you. I guess.”

Satoru grinned, leaning toward Sukuna with a mock whisper. “she’s feisty.”

“say one more thing, and I’ll kick you out myself,” Sukuna threatened, his patience clearly wearing thin.

the group laughed—well, mostly Satoru and Suguru—while Uraume merely shook their head, as if used to the chaos.

Suguru leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed, his gaze flickering between you and Sukuna. “didn’t peg you as the type to bring someone here, Sukuna. let me guess, you’ve been bragging about how you’re the best artist in the city?”

Sukuna smirked, his annoyance ebbing slightly. “don’t need to brag. everyone already knows.”

“yeah, yeah,” Satoru cut in, waving a hand dismissively before plopping himself onto one of the tattoo chairs. “but damn, what’s the deal? you’ve been dodging our calls, and now we find you playing tour guide?” he turned to you, grinning like a cheshire cat. “what kind of blackmail material do you have on him?”

you couldn’t help but snort at the absurdity. “I think he just likes tormenting me in person.”

Satoru laughed loudly, slapping the arm of the chair. “oh shit, she’s funny. I like her.”

Sukuna shot him a glare that could’ve withered a plant. “you’re testing my patience, Gojo.”

Uraume stepped forward, their tone as cool as ever. “should we expect you to actually focus on work tomorrow, or are you going to be… otherwise occupied?”

“I don’t report to you,” Sukuna snapped, his crimson eyes narrowing.

Suguru raised his hands in mock surrender, the picture of calm. “alright, alright, we’ll stop prying. but next time, maybe let us know when you’re busy, so we don’t interrupt your – ahem – quality time.”

Sukuna groaned, clearly regretting every life choice that led to this moment. “you’re all insufferable. I swear, one day—”

“yeah, yeah,” Satoru interrupted with a grin, spinning lazily in the chair. “one day you’ll kill us all. heard it a million fucking times. anyway,” he turned back to you, “you must be special if you’ve got the king of grump spending his evenings with you.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the shift in attention towards you again. before you could respond, Sukuna stepped in, his voice sharp. “she’s not here for your entertainment, Gojo. don’t you have some other poor soul to annoy?”

“not tonight,” Satoru replied cheerily, leaning back as if he owned the place.

Suguru gave you an apologetic glance, his expression softening. “he means well. most of the time.”

Uraume, meanwhile, was silent but observant, their gaze never straying far from you or Sukuna. you got the sense they were assessing something, but what, you couldn’t tell. their gaze made you feel… uneasy. like you were a specimen under a microscope.

“I think that’s enough,” Sukuna said suddenly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’ve seen me. I’m alive. now get lost.”

“aw, don’t be like that, Suku,” Satoru teased, standing and stretching dramatically. “we were just starting to have fun.”

“I’m serious,” Sukuna growled, his patience officially gone.

Suguru chuckled under his breath but relented, motioning for Satoru and Uraume to follow. “alright, we’ll leave you to it. but don’t think this means we’re done with you.”

Uraume cast Sukuna a long look before turning to you. “it was… interesting to meet you.”

“likewise,” you replied, though you weren’t entirely sure what to make of them. did they hate you already? did you have something on your face?

with that, the trio finally made their exit, the bell chiming once again as the door swung shut behind them.

the silence that followed was almost jarring. you turned to Sukuna, raising an eyebrow. “so… that’s your crew?”

“unfortunately,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “don’t let them scare you off. they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

you smirked, leaning against the counter. “I don’t know. I kind of liked them.”

Sukuna groaned. “don’t encourage them. especially Gojo. that idiot doesn’t need more fuel for his damn ego.”

despite his grumbling, you could tell there was a begrudging fondness buried – deep – beneath the surface. it was strange, seeing Sukuna interact with people who clearly knew him so well, even if they drove him up the wall.

“alright, enough about them,” he said, his tone softening as he turned back to you. “where were we before the circus rolled in?”

you laughed softly. “something about me not letting you give me a tattoo?”

his lips curled into a smirk, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “right. you’re still a coward for that, by the way.”

“keep dreaming,” you shot back, but the warmth in his gaze made it hard to keep the smile off your face.

Sukuna leaned closer, his smirk sharp as ever, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “you know, you can’t avoid it forever. one day, you’ll let me leave my mark on you.”

“don’t count on it,” you replied, trying to sound defiant despite the way your heartbeat quickened.

“hmm,” he hummed, leaning back casually. “we’ll see.”

the tension hung in the air, thick and electric, before Sukuna finally grabbed his helmet and tossed it your way. you barely caught it, giving him a questioning look.

“come on,” he said, already heading for the door. “let’s get out of here, it’s getting late.”

you rolled your eyes but followed, the sound of the shop’s lights clicking off behind you.

as you climbed onto the back of his bike, your arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, the motion feeling almost second nature by now. it was startling how natural it felt—being this close to him, fitting into this unpredictable rhythm he’d drawn you into. a thought crept into your mind, frustratingly persistent: would you feel disappointed if he didn’t show up tomorrow?

the answer lingered in your chest, heavier than you expected.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig@aldebrana@ravester@marie-is-in-the-dark@makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya @clp-84 @chosokamoluvr . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[benispunk]

Who's That Girl?

Chapter 9: Looking After You

What happens when a guy bothers Y/N in a bar? Logan comes to the rescue. But there's no real meaning behind this...right?

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W.

A/N: hey hey hey!! so sorry for not posting on Sunday!!! but I come with great news ! the wicked witch of the west is dead!- oops nope, wrong fandom, anyway, you're getting a new chapter right now...and TWO other ones this week!!!! why??? because a special chapter is coming for Christmas!!! and like...I'm kinda bad with schedules so I have to post all these chapters before the Christmas one...alright, enjoy this one!!!!🎀

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist /Previous Part / Next Part

If you had told little Y/N that this would be her life, she would probably be thrilled. 

Not just because of her deep fear of loneliness and/or the divorce of her parents haunting her every thoughts during her teenage years, no. But because of how much fun she was having. 

Not that they were going out every single day and throwing parties whenever they wanted, far from that. 

They just made her life happier. Fuller.

She definitely hadn’t been through the same traumatic events as them in her life, but she did feel out of place sometimes— as if she was too late most of the time. As a kid, and then teenager, people would always say that she was the responsible one. You know how they call you the mom friend. That’s probably what happens when you’re the one in charge of yourself when your parents are too busy making their life a living nightmare.

The thing is, she felt like an adult as a teenager, and now that she was deep into her adulthood, she felt like something was missing. Looking back at the past and noticing that some boxes haven’t been crossed and will never be. It always left her feeling frustrated and regretful.

Living with Wade and Logan, though…that was something.

And everything started falling into place.

It wasn’t any single, big thing that brought them close. Instead, it was a hundred tiny, everyday moments that started to add up, grounding her more than she’d realized.

There were late-night talks after a long day at school, worn out and ready to crash, only to find Wade stretched out on the couch, waving her over to join him for one of his favorite TV shows. They would sit there, munching on popcorn he’d burned at least twice before getting it right, laughing until their sides hurt at his running commentary. Logan would often wander in from his room, rolling his eyes but eventually plopping down with them, claiming he was “just passing through” but never actually leaving.

Each of them brought something different to her life. Wade was all chaotic energy, someone who could make a night out of anything, even if it was just a spontaneous grocery run that somehow turned into them wandering the aisles, making each other laugh as they competed to find the most bizarre snack.

Logan might be quieter, but when he did join in, he gave as good as he got. He’d take one look at Wade’s latest snack “invention,” mutter a deadpan, “You know that’s disgusting, right?” and somehow, that would start a full-blown debate. Wade would challenge him, daring him to try it, and after an exaggerated sigh, Logan would take a reluctant bite. Every time, Y/N would watch the shift, catching the way his mock-serious front softened as he leaned into the banter. Wade, of course, would just grin, teasing until Logan broke into a laugh or tossed a pillow at him.

And then there were the mornings. She’d wake up to the sound of clinking dishes and find Logan already making coffee, often still in sweatpants and looking like he hadn’t quite left his dreams behind. They would share a quiet nod or a quick “Morning” before she poured her cup and joined him at the table, where she could count on him to ask, “Got anything big planned today?” She loved those simple chats, the way he genuinely listened.

All three of them together, though— that was something else. Their dinners turned into improvisations, with Wade trying to “improve” a recipe while Logan, arms crossed and with a skeptical brow, dared him to do his worst. Y/N would end up laughing until her stomach hurt as Logan finally gave in, joining Wade’s kitchen experiments with his own twist, each trying to one-up the other in some unspoken contest. The apartment filled with their laughter, the kind of warmth and chaos that made it feel alive.

It had been a few months now that she had moved in, and as she— or they— settled into a new routine together, everything started to feel right. 

———

The bar buzzed with life as Logan and Y/N settled at a small table near the stage, waiting for Wade’s gig to begin. Logan, his usual stoic self, sat with his arms crossed, eyes scanning the crowd with a casual alertness, while Y/N tapped her foot, soaking in the atmosphere. 

“I like this place,” Y/N said, glancing around with a smile. "Kinda cozy."

Logan shrugged, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. "Yeah, it’s alright. Wade actually picked a decent spot this time."

She chuckled. "Did you come to his gigs a lot before I moved in?"

"Whenever I was able to." Logan’s mouth twitched in a half-smile. "I come here so there's at least one person clapping."

Y/N laughed, nudging him with her elbow. "You’ve got backup tonight, don’t worry."

Logan’s lip quirked, and he leaned back, looking faintly amused. "Guess we’ll see."

Just then, the lights dimmed slightly as Wade sauntered onto the stage, his confidence as loud as the applause he imagined he was getting. He held the mic up dramatically. "How’s everyone doing tonight?" The crowd responded with scattered claps and a few cheers—except for Y/N, who stood up, clapping and whistling loud enough to draw curious glances.

"Wooo! Wade!" she cheered, grinning at him.

Wade’s eyes lit up, and he pointed at her with an exaggerated look of delight. "Finally! I have a real fan!"

Y/N laughed, catching Logan’s eye as she sat back down. "Told you I’d back you up."

Logan shook his head, but the smirk on his face gave him away. Wade launched into his routine, cracking jokes and jabs, his charisma filling the room. Throughout the set, Logan and Y/N exchanged knowing looks whenever Wade would refer to stuff they knew he did, or didn’t. And before they knew it, his set wrapped up. He joined them, looking more than pleased with himself, dropping into his seat, his grin wide as he took a long drink.

"Not bad, huh?" he said, reclining in his chair with a dramatic sigh.

Y/N gave him an exaggerated round of applause. "You were amazing, Wade!"

Wade mock-bowed. "Ah, stop, you’re making me blush." He shot a glance at Logan. "Even Logan cracked a smile, so you know I crushed it."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Don’t push it."

Y/N laughed, excusing herself to go to the restroom. She navigated through the crowd, but just as she neared the hallway, a man stepped into her path, blocking her way. He was slightly taller than her, with a casual smirk, one that didn’t put her at ease at all.

"Hey," he said smoothly. "I saw you cheering pretty loud for the comedian up there. What’s your name?"

Y/N offered a polite but firm smile, stepping slightly to the side. "Just here for the show," she replied, aiming to make her way around him.

But he matched her move, his smirk growing. "Don’t be like that. Why don’t you give me your number? We could grab a drink sometime."

"Thanks, but I’m not interested," Y/N said, her tone polite but clear. She tried to step around him again, but this time he reached out, catching her arm in a firm grip. The slight edge in his eyes made her pulse quicken.

"Come on," he pressed, leaning closer. "Just your number."

A chill ran down her spine, and she tensed, glancing down at his hand. "Let go of my arm," she said quietly, but her voice wavered slightly.

Just then, Logan’s voice cut through the crowd, cold and unmistakably firm. "Let her go."

The man glanced up, and his expression shifted when he saw Logan, who had closed the distance between them in silence. Logan’s gaze was intense, and his stance made everyone around them feel warned.

The man loosened his grip and stepped back. "Alright, alright," he muttered, fading quickly into the crowd.

Logan waited until the man was gone, his gaze softening only slightly as he turned to Y/N. "You okay?"

Y/N exhaled, relief washing over her as she nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.  He just appeared out of nowhere and I kind of got…confused. Don’t know how to explain it. Thank you for stepping in.” she said, her eyes meeting his.

Logan shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but a hint of protectiveness lingered in his gaze. “It’s okay. You don’t have to thank me.”

She told him she’ll be back to the table quickly as she went inside the bathroom. Meanwhile, he walked back to the table in silence. When he arrived, Wade was waiting with his usual smirk, though there was a slight curiosity in his gaze.

"Everything alright?" Wade asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at Logan.

Logan gave a brief, dismissive nod, though his posture was a bit more tense than usual. "Yeah, all good."

But Wade leaned back in his seat, one eyebrow raised. "Oh, really?" he said, drawing out the words. "What exactly happened over there, huh?"

Logan shot him a warning look. “It was nothing.”

"Nothing?" Wade repeated, clearly enjoying himself. "Then how come you jumped up faster than I’ve ever seen you move?" He tilted his head, grinning. "And you were sitting with your back to the hallway— how did you even see that guy bothering her? Were you, I don’t know… watching her?"

Logan’s jaw tightened, a faint flush creeping up his neck. "I just happened to look over, Wade."

Wade chuckled, not letting it go so easily. "Sure, just happened to look over, behind you, all the way across the bar, like a perfectly normal thing. You know, most people don’t have superhero reflexes, but hey, I guess that’s just you, huh? The author really had to give you a sixth sense, and here I thought this was a no-powers AU fic. I’m jealous now!"

Logan just rolled his eyes again, knowing that he would never hear the end of it. 

Y/N returned to the table just then, completely oblivious to the exchange between them. She smiled at Wade and Logan, though her gaze lingered on Logan, a subtle thank you in her eyes. "Did I miss something?"

"Nothing at all," Wade said smoothly, but the mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed him. He shot a knowing look at Logan. "Just Logan saving the day."

If looks could kill, then maybe the author really did give powers to her characters, or else Wade would be dead from the amount of rage radiating from Logan’s eyes.

Y/N looked a bit surprised, her smile softening as she turned to Logan. "Well, he did save me from a pretty annoying guy." She gave Logan a warm look. "Guess I have a personal bodyguard now."

Logan shrugged, trying to hide a smile. "I wouldn’t get used to it."

"Oh, I think she should," Wade interjected, grinning. "Logan’s got a radar for trouble when it comes to you."

Logan glared at him, but Y/N only laughed, the tension easing as Wade continued to pile on the teasing.

———

The night air was cool and refreshing as they left the bar, but a palpable tension had settled between Logan and Wade. Y/N walked ahead, her steps light and relaxed, still buzzing from the performance and unaware of the tension simmering just behind her. Logan kept his gaze forward, his expression unreadable, hoping Wade might let things slide.

But, of course, he actually had no hope.

Wade slowed his pace, eventually falling into step beside Logan. He cast a sideways glance, lips twitching with a barely concealed grin. "So, Logan…" he began, his tone laced with unmistakable mischief. « What really happened back there?"

Logan exhaled, already bracing himself. "Don’t start, Wade."

"Oh, I’m definitely starting," Wade replied, the teasing edge in his voice unmistakable. He leaned in, keeping his voice low so only Logan could hear. "You jumped up faster than I’ve ever seen you move. Gotta admit, I never thought you would act like that for someone."

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he felt his face grow warmer, an embarrassment creeping up his neck that he hoped wasn’t visible. He didn’t know why but he needed to justify his actions. He had known Wade for years and he knew that whether he was answering or not his questions he just wouldn’t let it go. So, Logan trying to justify something? Well, that was definitely suspicious.  "I was just helping her out."

Wade’s grin widened, his eyes practically gleaming. "Interesting… but I just can’t help to come back to this important detail. That guy wasn’t exactly in your line of sight. And yet, somehow, you just ‘happened’ to notice her in trouble." Wade gave him a mockingly thoughtful look. "So, what is it? Are you keeping an eye on her like the protective fierce man that you are or…were you checking her out—"

"Drop it, Wade." Logan shot him a withering glare, his discomfort flaring into frustration.

"Sure, sure…" Wade said, holding up his hands in surrender. But his smirk was relentless, delighting in Logan’s reaction. "I’m just saying, maybe there’s more to this knight-in-shining-armor routine than you’re letting on."

Logan ground his teeth, forcing himself to look away from Wade’s insufferable grin. 

Why does he always have to push? he thought.

He could feel the heat rising up his neck, his reaction only fueling Wade’s suspicion, and for once, he wished he could just slip away and leave Wade’s relentless teasing behind.

For Wade, this was gold. He hadn’t seen Logan look this flustered in… well, maybe ever. And the way Logan had bolted from his seat to protect Y/N?! Oh oh, that was not something he was about to let go. In fact, he’d been waiting for something like this, knowing that behind Logan’s guarded demeanor was something he’d been working hard to bury. Wade had noticed, even if Logan hadn’t admitted it yet.

Just as Logan was about to retort, Y/N slowed her pace, looking back at them with a casual smile, blissfully unaware of the silent battle happening behind her. "Oops, sorry! Walked too fast." she said with a laugh. She gave Wade a playful shove on the shoulder. "You were really incredible up there. I want invites to all your gigs from now on."

Wade turned to her, beaming as if he hadn’t just been relentlessly teasing Logan. "Finally, some appreciation! And I’ll keep a special place just for you, beautiful." He winked at her before throwing a quick glance at Logan. "See, at least someone here recognizes real talent."

Logan glared, the weight of Wade’s unspoken insinuations only fueling his simmering frustration. 

Great. Now he’s playing innocent. 

But he bit back any response, knowing it would only feed Wade’s amusement.

Completely oblivious to the silent exchange, Y/N continued to laugh, shaking her head. "You’re a menace on stage, Wade," she said, grinning. She glanced over at Logan with this wide beautiful smile, and for a moment, he— what the fuck was happening to him. 

He just happened to look out for Y/n in a crowded place. That didn’t mean anything right? That shouldn’t mean anything. Friends look out for each other. And they were roommates. Final point. Nothing else. Nada. 

And yes he did jump quite fast into action and he would have killed the man if he had hurt her but that didn’t mean anything. That’s just the way he is. He would do that to anyone. Well, maybe not everyone. Maybe Wade. Some of his students— okay, all his students. And Y/N, yes. Because they’re friends. 

Friends. 

Wade, however, was far from finished. He gave Logan a light nudge as Y/N walked a few paces ahead again, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "What are you thinking about in that big head of yours" he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.

Logan’s frustration simmered, though he did his best to keep his expression neutral. This is what he wants, Logan reminded himself, to get a reaction out of me. But the way Wade’s grin lingered made his composure waver, and Logan could feel the tension building. His mind replayed the moment he’d seen Y/N’s tense expression from across the room, how a fierce protectiveness had overtaken him without a second thought.

He would have killed that man.

Wade leaned closer, his grin widening as he observed Logan’s clenched jaw. "You know, I’ve seen you keep your cool with a lot worse. But the moment she looked like she needed help, there you were. Funny how you seem to care about her more than you let on."

Logan’s voice was quiet. "I was just looking out for her."

"If you say so," Wade smirked, finally retreating but clearly savoring the effect he’d had on Logan.

Y/N turned around, giving both men a warm smile. "You two coming? Or are you planning a secret meeting back there?"

Logan forced a neutral expression, though his mind was still racing with Wade’s comments. "Right behind you," he replied, ignoring the knowing smirk that hadn’t left Wade’s face.

———

The usual playful banter was subdued as they made their way back to the apartment. Logan walked in silence, his mind replaying the night’s events. He hadn’t planned to feel so protective, and he certainly hadn’t planned on Wade dissecting every second of it. He won’t let this go, Logan thought, mentally bracing himself for whatever was coming.

Y/N stifled a yawn as they entered, stretching her arms over her head with a contented sigh. "Alright, I’m heading to bed," she said, smiling. She turned to Wade, her face warm with genuine appreciation. "Seriously, you were amazing tonight, Wade. You have a real gift."

Wade’s face lit up in an exaggerated grin, and he gave a theatrical bow. "Why, thank you, my lady! Always glad to perform for my number one fan."

Y/N laughed, amused by his antics, and then looked over at Logan. "Night, Logan. See you tomorrow."

Logan’s expression softened, his tensed demeanor slipping for a moment. "Night, Y/N."

The words came out gentler than he intended, but he held her gaze for a split second longer than usual. Y/N gave a small wave and retreated to her room, the door clicking shut behind her.

The moment she disappeared, Logan turned to see Wade standing there, arms crossed and smirking as though he’d just uncovered the world’s greatest secret. The mischief in Wade’s eyes was practically shining.

"Go to bed, Bub," Logan muttered, hoping he could somehow slip away unscathed. He made a move to walk past him, but Wade wasn’t about to let that happen.

"Oh no no no," Wade said, stepping into his path, his laughter barely contained. "After all that? After that heroic display tonight?" He crossed his arms, savoring every moment. "You honestly think I’m letting you off easy? ‘Don’t start, Wade’— well, you better believe I’m not stopping.”

Logan groaned inwardly, "Fuck off" he muttered, his frustration evident, though he knew it would only amuse Wade further.

Wade’s grin widened, his eyebrows raised in mock innocence. He shook his head, leaning in as if sharing a great conspiracy. "Come on, Peanut! The whole ‘just looking out for a friend’ thing doesn’t fool me. I mean, Y/N’s completely oblivious, but me? I see what’s going on. You, my friend, are more obvious than you think."

Logan rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the accusation as he shifted uncomfortably. Just ignore him, he told himself, though he knew that was nearly impossible. Wade wasn’t going to let him escape that easily.

Wade’s smirk only grew, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That protective glare you gave that guy? That’s not how you look out for just any friend. Admit it, Logan—you care about her."

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he forced himself to look away, knowing any reaction would just fuel Wade’s fire. Logan was trying really hard to resist the urge to wipe that smirk off Wade’s face.

"Shut the fuck up, now, will you?" Logan knew there was no way this was going to work. It was his own end of the world. Probably one of his worst nightmares.

Wade clapped him on the shoulder, feigning seriousness as he leaned in, his voice a loud whisper. "Sweet dreams, lover boy."

Logan groaned, flipping him off as he brushed past, Wade’s laughter echoing down the hallway. He could still hear the lingering amusement in Wade’s voice as he headed toward his room, knowing his friend wouldn’t be letting this go anytime soon. 

Later, he laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, Wade’s words still replaying in his mind. Maybe Wade’s right, he admitted to himself, feeling the slightest twinge of something he couldn’t quite name.

They were only roommates.

XXX